#they all are smart in a way but you get it

[luvyeni]

WHAT THEY SAY ๑. ( 제이크 )

[ req? yes / no ]

𝗦𝗖𝗘𝗡𝗘 ──────── you couldn’t believe it when jake said he learned how to please a girl by reading … but he was determined to prove you wrong.. guess what they say about nerds is true …

( 対 ) sim jaeyun + fem. reader wc. 2.5k genre smut · contains! unprotected sex , language , oral ( f ) mature content. / back to library

𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ i loved writing this…

jake sim; the cute quiet boy who sat in the back of the class away from everyone. the boy who turned in his work on time , sometimes weeks before if he could. he was smart; probably the smartest kid in the class; maybe the whole major… but who knew he was such a fucking sex god?

it all started with a pouty lipped you; your recent test sitting in front of you , marked with a red circle highlighting your failures — your many failures at that. “seriously yn , how did you manage to fuck up this badly?” you whispered to yourself. “it’s like you didn’t even try.”

but you did try; you tried your hardest, it’s just that this subject was one you weren’t that good at it. “i’m gonna fail.” you sighed. “are you okay?” someone stood in front of you. “you’re talking to yourself.” your eyes following the body , becoming face to face with the boy; sim jaeyun. he looked down at the paper , he’s never seen a number that low. “oh.”

you covered the paper in embarrassment. “i’m fine.” you said. “nothing wrong with having a conversation to yourself, it’s only a problem if i answer myself my mother says.” he pushed his glasses up on his face. “okay.” he went to walk away; but you had to push your pride to the side. “wait.” he stopped, waiting for you to continue. “do you think you can help me?” you asked. “i only ask because you’re so good at this subject — sure.” he interrupted you. “really?” you exclaimed. “what’s your phone number?” you handed him a piece of paper. “give it to me.” you smiled.

you both agreed to meet at your apartment at five; so you quickly went home to straighten up; setting out some snacks for you both while you studied. “what are you doing?” your roommate came out of the room; picking up a cookie. “hey don’t eat those , they’re for jake.” your roommate raised her eyebrows. “who the hell is that?”

“a kid in my class; he’s coming over to help me study.” you said. “is he cute?” you rolled your eyes. “ah so he fucking hot.” she smirked. “what’s your problem?” she chuckled. “what i’m just saying, you know what they say about nerds.” you turned to her. “no i don’t , and i never said he was a nerd.” she shrugged. “i’ve seen the homework you get… he’s a nerd.” she walked out the door. “i leave you with your nerd.” the front door closed , then opened again. “and to answer your question they say nerds are the best fuckers.” and with that she closed the door again.

you waited around for him and soon the clock hit 5 o’clock and there was a knock on the door. “did he wait until exactly 5?” you got off your bed , skipping to the door; opening it. “hi jake!” his eyes widened a bit before settling. “hi.” he said as you stood to the side. “come in.” you welcomed him in. “you can take your shoes off and follow me.” you made your way to your room. “we can study in here.”

he stopped at the threshold of your door, taking in your room. “you okay?” you asked; he coughed nervously pushing his glasses on his face. “ye-yeah i’m fine.” you smiled. “well come in then silly.” he walked into your room, looking around at all the posters on your wall; your desk was messy with papers and books. “here.” you sat down on the bed; he opted for the floor. “do you want something to drink? i have cookies.” you said. “um water is fine, thank you.” you nodded, getting off the bed. “i’ll be back.”

you left the room; leaving him alone in your space. jake never really tutored anyone, but he could see the desperation on your face; you clearly needed help and weren’t fucking around and waiting his time like most people have done in the past; not to mention he thought you were pretty cute. he’d notice you all the time when you’d walk into the class , sitting directly in the middle with your friends; but you didn’t play around when it came to work. sometimes you would doze off or daydream and he thought it was cute when you’d bring yourself back once you realize, looking around to see if people saw you; no one else but him did.

so maybe he had a little crush on you and that’s why he said yes; but he wasn’t expecting anything from you since the only reason you called him here was to study. “i bought you some cookies.” you sat the plate down in front of him. “and here’s your water.” you sat back down on the bed. “thank you for helping me.”

he nodded; “you seemed like you needed it.” he said, eyes widening at the realization of what he said. “i didn’t mean it like that, i swear.” you giggled. “i’m bad at this subject, i know.” you said. “the many papers sitting on the table marked in red should tell you.” you pointed. “but hopefully you’ll help me understand a bit more right?” you asked. “ye-yeah.” he pushed his glasses on his face again.

after eating his cookies; the two of you jumped into studying quickly getting into a flow of things. jake was actually a good tutor; and you were understanding things you never did with the professor. “you got it correct again.” jake smiled. “how am i good with you , but i suck when the professor teaches it?” you asked. “some people just need to be taught in different ways.” he said. “i teach myself these things before the teacher gets to it so i already know.” he said; and not in a cocky way either. “how?”

“i like to read.” he shrugged shyly. “well i like to read to but i could never teach myself this, you must read a shit ton.” he chuckled , fixing his glasses. “you could say that.” he said. “besides teaching yourself class work, do you read anything else?” you asked he nodded. “of course i don’t spend all day in my dorm doing work.” he said you giggled. “that would be ridiculous , but yes i do read the occasional fantasy book or horror novel.”

“harry potter; those books are just too long for my attention span.” you said. “really?” he said furrowing his eyebrows. “i wouldn’t know, i put the book down ten minutes in because i got hungry.” you stood up, walking over to your desk. “but i do have a few books.” you said , your back turned as you looked around — jake didn’t mean to; but his eyes couldn’t help but wonder a bit, taking in your figure. he gulped; your shiny legs on display. jake wasn’t a virgin by any means, sure he was probably inexperienced for a boy his age, but from what he read he knew a little bit and he knew the feeling in between his legs wasn’t going away. “here they are.”

you turned around; books in your hand. “these are my favorite.” he coughed nervously as you now took a seat on the floor next to him. “i’ve read them 100 times each.” he took in your scent at you rambled about the different books in front of him. “you smell nice.” his eyes widening realizing he said that outloud. “that was so weird i’m so sorry.” he quickly apologized; you giggled. “just a little but it’s cute.” you said , his cheeks red. “here.” you put your wrist to his nose. “it’s vanilla and lavender.”

l

he took a whiff of your scent; realizing it did nothing for the ache in his lower region, instead it made it worse. your scent clouding his senses. “it smells good.” he said. “thank you it was a gift.” you said. “my roommate is a god at finding the perfect scent for people.” he had to hold himself back from grabbing your wrist, bringing it back to his nose to get another scent. “should we get back to studying?”

you nodded; not moving back to the bed instead you reached up; your shirt lifting up a bit , he didn’t even revert his eyes, the sliver of your skin as you grab the book. “let’s do this.” you said, reminding him of why he was there in the first place; to help you understand the work.

“why did you agree to help me?” you asked randomly; face looking up from the book. “you hardly even talk in class and you sit all the way in the back.” he sat his pencil down, once again pushing the frames of his glasses up. “you looked really upset at the test, and i’ve seen you in class, you actually look like you care about it, you just needed a little bit of help.” he explained with a smile. “and look now you understand and will be prepared.”

“i don’t know how to pay you back; im so grateful.” you said. “you’re a god send.” his face was beat red from all the praise. “yo-you don’t have to pay me back, i wanted to help you.” he said , running his hands through his hair , creating a messy effect; biting down on his lip — he was cute , you always thought that; but now you see it close up, the way his his long slender fingers continuously run through his hair when he’s nervous; or how he chewed on his plump bottom lip when he was super focused on things; damn he was more than cute… he was fucking hot.

you thought back to what your roommate said and you couldn’t help but wonder; was he good at sex? like there was no way girls didn’t find him attractive just because he was smart right? he can be a nerd but also be good with girls. “do you have a girlfriend?” you blurted out, shocking both of you. “uh no , i don’t.” he said. “i didn’t mean to be nosy it’s just that you’re cute and i just can’t believe you don’t even have a girlfriend or at least a few girls lusting over you.”

“many girls assume things about me.” he said. “well it can’t be that bad , it’s not like you’re some sex freak playboy.” you giggle to yourself. “well no it’s not that.” he said. “it’s quite the opposite.” he said. “i’m not following.” you replied. “they think im a virgin.” he said.

“you’re not?” you said. “i’m unexperienced there’s a difference.” he said. “but how hard could it be? i could just look it up right?” he genuinely asked , you laughed. “you can’t just read an article on how to please a girl jake; not every girl is the same.” you tell him. “don’t tell me you’ve actually done that?” he shrugs. “jake you’re cute but that’s the dumbest thing ever; someone as smart as you should know that.”

“actually i think girls are all the same in that way , it’s just that guys don’t understand the female body like they should.” he said. “girls don’t want to be poked and prodded at , they aren’t a game system.” he sounded confident in what he was saying. “and how would you know that? that girls are all the same in that way?” you asked , not noticing the sudden shift in the room. “because–”

he didn’t know what came over him; but he was soon pressing his plump lips against yours, his hands that you stared at for way too long were now on your waist as he kissed you on the floor of the end of your bed. “bed.” he said between kissing you. “bed now.” this wasn’t the shy jake that was flustered by the smallest thing. “ok-okay.” you stood up , sitting on the bed — he stayed on the floor , standing on his knees. “can i?” he asked nervously; yeah he read about this, but this was his first time trying it on someone. “su-sure.”

he touched your knees, pulling them apart. “jake.” you sighed as he pushed his glasses up on his face , kissing your thighs , inhaling your scent. “yo-you smell nice.” he kissed your clothed cunt. “taste good too.” you moaned , he liked that — he wanted to hear it again , so he pulled down your shorts. “jake stop being so slow , it’s teasing.” he quickly removed your panties your wet cunt made his mouth water. “see, even you could learn from other people.”

he licked a stripe up your cunt; you moaned out. “jake fuck.” he licked your cunt over and over; holding your legs over his shoulders; face buried in between your legs tasting everything you had to offer. he was moaning ; sending a wave of pleasure through your body, you could already feel yourself about to cum this early; which was almost always impossible — with a person or yourself alone. “fuck jake , jake i’m about the cum.”

he ignored your pleas; instead he brought his thumb to your swollen clit , rubbing figure eights on your bud as his tongue entered your hole. “fuck jake!” you squealed. “jake i’m-im gonna cum!” he pressed down on your clit; your legs tensing up as you came. “ok-okay i get it.” you tugged at his hair as he continued to eat you out through your orgasm. “you were right.” you said through labored breathing. “you fucking read about doing that?”

his face was covered in your juices , glasses crooked on his nose; nodding. “i told you it wasn’t that hard.” he said standing up. “well what else have you read about?”

that’s how you found yourself pinned under the quite shy boy in class. his glasses were fogged up as he pushed his cock inside of you; slowly filling you up beyond your own imagination. “yo-fuck you-you feel really good.” he moved his hips like a pro , you would’ve thought he was lying about being inexperienced if it wasn’t for the occasional mistake he made, but that didn’t even bother you because he was still much better than anyone you’ve had sex with. “ca-can i go faster.”

“god please.” his mouth dropped open as you clenched around him; urging him to go faster. “fuck jake you’re so big!” he groaned , the way you praised the way his cock was filling you to the brim , he could feel all of you; your warm cunt suffocating him , he gasped.”keep going jake!” you moaned out loudly , glad your roommate did leave. “keep going i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna fucking cum.” he sped up even more , now pounding into you , cock hitting deep inside you. “yes fuck!” you squealed out. “i’m cumming!”

your orgasm triggered his; his cock twitching inside you; he quickly pulled out , cumming all over your stomach. “ngh ah!” he whimpered as he milked himself , making a mess all over your stomach. you have never felt as satisfied as you did before and it was because of him; the boy who read on how to please a girl. “are you sure you haven’t done that before.” he smiled , once again pushing those glasses up on his face.

guess what they say about nerds are true…

©️LUVYENI

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Movie Week

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Male Yandere x Fem Reader, 1.7k words

 Your dad doesn't like your boyfriend.

Hardly breaking news. The amount of boyfriends who are chummy with their future father-in-law is in decidedly short supply. Like, national crisis level shortage.

Still, you aren't sure why your dad has such a problem with him.

Your boyfriend is sweet. He's charming. He takes your dog out on walks and gets along with your ancient and sour tom cat. He picks you up from school and keeps his hands to himself whenever your pops is around.

He's smart, in his own way. Good with his hands, the top student in your school's auto shop class.

A catch really. Out of your league, if you want to be honest.

But your dad doesn't want to hear any of it.

"Home before ten, not a second later."

"Don't you dare leave the living room when he's here. Either you stay where I can see you, or he doesn't come over at all."

"You're only allowed to drive home from school with him. I don't want you in that deathtrap of his any longer than you need to be."

Your boyfriend takes it in his stride. The only sign that it bothers him is the slight strain in his voice.

"Yes, sir. I'll get her home on time."

"No, sir. We won't leave the living room."

"I drive under the speed limit all the time, sir."

A different man would have given up on you ages ago. It isn't pleasant, being subjected to scrutiny and barley veiled menace every time you want to take your girl out on a date.

Somehow, he manages.

"It's easy," he tells you after yet another uncomfortable dinner with your father, his arm around the back of your seat as he pulls out of your driveway.

"I just keep reminding myself that I'm going to marry you. He'll have to soften up once I have a ring on your finger."

You can't ignore the way your heart jumps when he says that.

"Don't joke about stuff like that."

He grins at you. "Not joking. Gonna make you my wife someday."

You twist your hands in your skirt and tell yourself he's just pulling your leg. You're too young to be thinking about marriage. You need to focus on picking out graduation gowns, not wedding dresses.

Still, it's a nice thing to think about. A silly little fantasy to keep your smile in place when you get home from your date and your dad insists on grilling you. Something to dream about before bed, when the sheets are cold and you want nothing more than to have your boyfriend between them.

He brings it up again on your next date.

"Gold or silver?"

"For what?"

You're at the gun range, your boyfriend polishing up his skills. The crack of gunfire only slightly muffled by your ear protection.

He's reloading his pistol, fingers quick and fast.

"For your engagement ring."

You freeze for a second, and then start giggling.

"Yeah, right. Are you going to ask me if I want cream or ivory tulle next?"

He shrugs, cocking his pistol with a practiced, easy pull.

"I say cream. Looks better with your skin tone."

He gets into a firing stance and aims at the cut out.

"My dad might not even say yes. Have you thought about that?"

He fires. One bullet after the other until the clip is empty. The veins and muscles on his forearms stand out; he's gripping the gun that tight.

When it clicks on an empty chamber, he sets it aside and pulls off his ear protection. The retrieval system whirs as his target gets pulled towards you.

"I've thought about it," he says quietly.

You're about to say something when you catch sight of his target. Bullet holes straight through its forehead, a stray or two lodged in its throat. You count them up in your head and compare it to the amount of bullets you saw him load.

He didn't miss a single shot.

He's good with guns, but you've never seen him this accurate before. What the hell is he focused on, to land every shot?

You look up to find him watching you.

"Your dad will say yes. I know he will."

Your dad doesn't say yes.

You aren't aware of it. All you know is that your boyfriend stops walking you to your front door after school, and that your dad is awfully quiet at dinner for a few weeks.

Your dad doesn't say yes the second time either.

It's a late Friday afternoon. You're at study group with your friends while your father and your boyfriend square off against each other. Sun slanting through the big bay windows and spilling in golden stripes across the carpet.

"You're too young."

"I love her!"

"You don't even know what love is!"

"I know enough. I want to be with her. Is that so wrong? We won't get married right away."

"Not. Happening."

Your father is as tight wound as a hair trigger. Your boyfriend not much better. For a second, your dad thinks the kid might actually be stupid enough to hit him.

Go on, give me a good reason to kick you to the curb, you little shit.

He doesn't. Just pulls in a deep breath and turns to leave, door slamming hard behind him.

Your father sits down with his anger still coiled tight in his chest. Anger, and fear too. There's something about your boyfriend that unnerves him. That hair raising feeling of nails on a chalkboard. Not logical at all, but too strong to just be gut instinct.

Kid looked like he wanted to kill me.

You father has to make a conscious effort to unclench his fists.

When you get home that day, he kisses your forehead and prays that you change your mind about the whole thing. Date someone a little less... strange.

No luck. He hears you on the phone with your boyfriend all evening.

Is the kid really going to let it go? Or is he going to keep asking?

Your dad doesn't get his answer. Two days later, his car goes off the road.

Brake lines wore out and finally snapped, the cops tell you.

It's raining hard when they give you the news, little droplets of water on their uniforms despite their oversized black umbrellas.

You're too cold and stunned to answer them.

It's only when your boyfriend comes over that you manage to speak, to think of a sentence or two beyond, "But I just saw him. How can he be dead if I just saw him five minutes ago?"

He pulls you onto his lap and let's you cry into his shirt, smoothing your hair away from your face.

"It's okay baby, I'm here. I've got you."

It's only after the funeral that he asks the question he's wanted an answer to for months. The funeral parlour is almost empty. Your dad's coffin long gone.

He keeps his arm curled around your waist as you bid the last of the mourners goodbye.

"You never gave me an answer."

You blink at him, thoughts mired in molasses.

"An answer to what?"

He smiles, head tilted in that boyishly charming way of his.

"The only question that matters. Gold or silver?"

Day 1 - Fear (1996)

Day 2 - Secret Obsession (2019)

Day 3 - Hush (2016)

Day 4 - The Perfect Guy (2015)

Day 5 - The Boy Next Door (2015)

Day 6 - The Invisible Man (2020)

Day 7 - Til Death Do Us Part (2017)

[thebestsetter]

Thinking about you and Rin (failing on) hiding your relationship.

You and Rin are two very discreet people. You don't really see the need for the media to meedle about your personal life. That's why you decided - together - that your relationship should not be shown to the public.

Anyway, he figured that, one way or another, people would find out about it. He just didn't think it would have nothing to do with his - growing - fame.

"'Day 14 of filming this cute couple on the train until I get a partner'" you read outloud, while his head was in your lap and your hands caressing his hair "Wait a sec... they kinda looks like us!"

"Impossible" Rin mumbled, burying his head deeper into your thighs

"But it does!" You said, and stopped the movements in his hair - which earned a desatisfied growl from him - "Look!"

His eyes hurt a little from the shift of light, but he eventually saw the video - and immediately straightened his back and sat on the bed "It's us."

"Told you so!" You also sat straight - after sticking your tongue out at him -, hands on his shoulder while he clicked on the profile that posted it "Wow. There are MANY videos of us."

"I'm gonna sue this bastard for using our image without our knowing consent."

"Rinnie, maybe there's no need to go that far!" You snatched the phone from his hands, to which he replied 'Hey!' "Listen, you have a lrovate account, right? That basically no one follows but me and your - I don't know - ten friends?"

"Nine, actually" he corrected "But yeah, I do. Why?"

"You should comment on the video using that account, so no one knows it's you and the person filming will leave us alone! Something like: 'Hey, I'm the guy from the video. Please stop using me and my girlfriend's image without permission'. That should work"

"...that's actually smart" Rin deadpanned, staring at you

"Duh, obviously it's smart. I AM smart." You smirked

"'right, I'm gonna do what you said" He said, shoving your smirking face aside

"Thanks, Rinnie! Hopefully they'll understand that we want privacy and just stop"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll make sure they will" he muttered lowly

"What did you say?" (You heard him the first time. You were just surprised.)

"Nothing. Good night, my love."

"...goodnight Rin"

Maybe you should've worried Rin was planning something from the last sentence - and by the strategic use of pet names - because MAYBE then you wouldn't wake up and find out that not only he wrote the comment from his PLAYER ACCOUNT - the one the team tags on posts and sponsorships use to talk about him -, but it was not as (let's say) peaceful as you had planned it to be.

Itoshi_Rin: Leave me and my girlfriend alone, fucker.

Okay. You SERIOUSLY needed to find him before his PR team. They were going to kill him.

The second you stepped out of your house and noticed the stares following you and even a reporter - who appeared out of NOWHERE - stopped to interview you, you realized.

You did want to find him before his PR team. But not because you wanted to save him.

You wanted to kill him first.

So, uhm... I'd like to consider this as a 1.2k commemoration post!!! Thank you all 🫶🫶🫶

[neigepomme]

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ cute guy next door / caleb x reader

synopsis; you're woken up by your new neighbor moving in loud as hell on a saturday morning, but upon seeing his face, maybe you aren't that mad anymore.

🍎 pomme's notes — pushing my mark lee caleb agenda and experimenting because i have not written a series in a while but i think caleb boy next door/uni crush? the greatest thing ever. LET ME HAVE HIM

⋆ 700 words / fluff / fem reader / uni au (no evol!) / 2nd person

it was saturday early morning when you were brutally woken up by loud steps coming from the apartment next door.

god, your head was ringing. you had two ethics finals yesterday, and you couldn't even rest because your manager needed you to come in for a late night shift. today was supposed to be a sleeping-in kind of day, waking up at 12 or something — but instead, here you were, forced to listen to the steps of several movers at 7am on a saturday.

rough weekend start.

draping yourself in a cozy hoodie, you head out to check out all this commotion and provide your new neighbor with some strongly worded opinions about making so much noise on a weekend. when you swing your door open, though, you're met with resistance and a groan.

great. you just hit your stupidly loud new neighbor in the face with your damn door.

“oh my god, are you okay?? i'm so sorry!”

hands outstretched in the direction of the tall brunette in front of you, he peers at you with quite possibly the most gorgeous eyes you've ever seen. he waves you off with a bright smile, his hand still rubbing his reddening nose.

“all good, don't worry. i wanted to say hi and apologize for the noise — i'm caleb, your new neighbor.”

and man, was caleb a hottie.

clad in a sleeveless tank top and black sweatpants, you had to hold yourself back from ogling the guy you desperately wanted to tell off this morning. sweat trickled down his muscled arms from carrying boxes into his new place, and what a delightful sight it was. in his hands was a small glass container, which he handed over to you, and before you can even ask what's in it, you're interrupted.

"braised chicken wings. as an apology for all the noise," he laughs (and what a cute laugh it was, you think), “my specialty. hopefully, you aren't allergic?”

“no, no allergies at all. thank you, caleb.”

his name rolled off your tongue so nicely. you really needed to get to know him soon. maybe he attended the same uni you did? leaning against your doorframe, you look into his eyes again, and you thought the "getting lost in one's eyes" pickup line was a gross exaggeration until you met him. it's as if a million sunsets took place within his irises, and the way they'd close a bit when he smiled? was this love at first sight? after introducing yourself to him, you ask the question (to which you pray the answer is yes).

“are you here to attend skyhaven university? this place is pretty close, that's why i chose it.”

caleb gives you a nod, his face lighting up when you mentioned it. 

“yeah, aerospace engineering major! i transferred from linkon uni. will i see you around?”

oh my god, he's cute, he knows how to cook, AND he's smart. yep, you were definitely going to get closer to him — even if it's just as friends. the sight of that face was going to help you not end it all when your philosophy professor assigned you a horrible team for your group projects.

“mhmm, i'm a humanities major. pretty sure the departments are pretty close by, so we'll definitely see each other around!”

while you two talked, the movers were getting close to finishing the job. they glanced at caleb and motioned for him to come check if anything was missing — your conversation had to be cut short. he turns to you before stepping away, and he ends up being the one asking the question lingering on the tip of your tongue.

“can i have your number, dear neighbor? since we'll be seeing each other a bunch in the next few months.”

and with your number on his phone, you return to your bed, a wide grin on your face, your day significantly better than how it started. caleb was about to be the highlight of your uni experience.

— secretly, caleb was also looking forward to seeing you around. a pretty girl as his neighbor instead of an old man, and you attended the same place? he'd have to 'run out of sugar' soon and knock on your door again.

🍎 pomme's final notes — think of this as an appetizer.. i need to figure out a plot soon but i needed to put this idea out in the world before i fell asleep and lost it LOL

[thetarotyapper]

how will your future partner/spouse show their affection towards you? (pick-a-card reading)

paid services 18+ paid services tarot community ko-fi

(how to pick a card? observe the given options and choose the one which you feel the most drawn to. scroll down to read your message!! remember, this is a general reading, so take what resonates! ps.- if you feel drawn to more than one card/image/pile, feel free to read the others too!! if the chosen pile doesn't relate to you, feel free to choose another. the choice is yours<3)

۶ৎ pile I ۶ৎ

10 of cups, knight of wands, the chariot, 4 of swords, the emperor, strength, 6 of swords, 2 of swords 

babe, the cards for your reading was LITERALLY falling out. like your person had no chill😭. their energy came off as very messy and dominating. it's almost like they lose their control over you. i'm not even kidding when i say that i'm literally feeling so hot right now. like your person's energy is STRONG. phew okay with that being said, let's get to your reading hehe. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by always being there for you and protecting you. they just give off such safe vibes, it's so heartwarming. “oh you need help with this? let go of it, babe. i got this”, typa vibes. you can always, and mark my words when i say this - ALWAYS depend on your person. they're not the type to get irritated with you. they're patient, kind and also very understanding. i see you feeling all soft and giddy with them lol, and i honestly don't blame you. they're the type of person who loves taking care of their partner and they'll go out of their way to make you feel satisfied. and seeing you happy makes them happy. i would be lying if i said i'm not giggling while writing your reading. THIS IS EVERY PERSON'S DREAM PARTNER. they'll be your backbone and they'll be with you through thick and thin. they might not be very verbal about their love for you but their actions will show it. they're a firm believer of ‘actions speak louder than words’. OH MY GOD i just imagined you trying to reach a box in a cabinet but it's too high and you're struggling to reach it and then BOOM your person is right behind you, getting the box for you with ease. they might be someone who is very tall and i see them having nice biceps. they might like the colour black or dark colours and they might have facial hair. i'm also seeing that you might be a little submissive towards them and you will try to act cutesy and ‘weak’ in front of them so that they can help you. you can do the things yourself, but you like it when they do it for you because then you'll get to see their muscles flex. ahem pile 1, you're smart🤭. 

acts of service is one of their love languages. i'm also seeing that they'll love providing you with guidance and they'll do so with great patience. i'm getting the energy here that they might be someone who is older than you or they're someone who is emotionally mature for their age. 

they're going to show their love for you by being very fiery and passionate. they literally can't keep their hands to themselves. AHH I JUST FELT SOMETHING WHISPER IN MY EAR. they might like to whisper sweet nothings to you and might even like to nibble at your ear a lot. lots of sloppy, heated and passionate kisses coming through😳. im seeing that they will love to take you out on a lot of dates and might like to go out and do fun activities because i'm getting a lot of movement energy here. they'll also love it when you voice out what you want. they want to meet your needs. they want to be your provider. they want to serve you. 

they'll also love cuddling with you and i see that they might like to be the big spoon. they'll love listening to you rant and it's one of their love languages. they love listening to you talk. they're going to show their affection towards you by acting as a ‘stress-free’ plushie for you where you can take out all your frustrations on them. and i also see them helping you understand your emotions and calming you down. if you're wrong, they'll make you realise that you're wrong in the most healthy and understanding way, instead of lashing out on you. they're not the type to get angry. in fact, they'll hardly get angry. they'll help you release control. they'll show their affection towards you by providing you with emotional support and by helping you face your challenges. your person might take some time to open up to you and show their affection towards you in the beginning, but that doesn't mean they don't love you. some people take their time opening up and they're one of them. but always know that regardless of what happens, they'll always have your back. they also might not be very verbal, but they won't hesitate to show you how much they love you. 

۶ৎ pile II ۶ৎ

8 of pentacles, the sun, 7 of cups, 2 of cups, 2 of swords, 2 of wands, the moon, the emperor

pile 2, your person is going to SPOIL you like crazy. like omg me when🏃‍♀️🚶‍♀️. like y'all are so lucky and you deserve it!! your person is a hard worker and they're literally doing their best so that they can spoil you. BYE THE WORD “babygirl” JUST CHANNELED THROUGH HEHEHE. seeing you happy is literally all they want in life and they're going to go out of their way to see you smile. “you want this gucci purse? okay, but make sure to take something else too. don't make me look poor”. LIKE UGHHH IM LITERALLY SCREAMING. sugar daddy/mommy who?👀 hahahaa. 

your person radiates this warmth, it's so hard to ignore. your person gives a lot of child-like energy and they're very sensitive towards you. like no one is gonna mess with their partner🤭🤭. if y'all ever get married, they will literally flaunt you and they'll love saying “my wife”/”my husband” like ajahajahjahajaja. they're such a cutie patootie im not gonna lie. like awww they are such a fool for you. they'll never make you feel like you're missing something. you'll get ANYTHING you want.

your person is so fulfilling, like ugh where have you been this whole time!!! they're going to have their eyes on you and ONLY you. they might be a little submissive or they aren't afraid to be vulnerable towards you. i see that they will like it when you praise them a lot. like if you call them a good boy/girl, they're literally gonna go crazy. I WAS TRYING TO KEEP THIS READING AS FRIENDLY AND SFW AS POSSIBLE BUT I JUST COULDN'T IGNORE THIS PART. they might be like a golden retriever typa person. 

i'm also seeing that they might be a little insecure because they might feel like they aren't good for you because you might have a lot of potential suitors and they feel like you'll pick those people over them. they're constantly worried about that. and that might also be one of the reasons why they always want to spoil you so much. they're scared of losing you. and not to mention, they would love to surprise you with gifts and every present they buy has a deep meaning behind it. they want to spend the rest of their life with you and they won't be afraid to show it. they're almost pathetic for you lol (we all love someone who is love-crazy over us 🤭🤭). 

your person is also someone who is very honest and real about their feelings for you. they're going to show their affection by being completely raw and natural with you. they won't beat around the bush. they're very straightforward. they will also help you face your fears and they want you to know that no matter how hard life gets, they'll always be there for you. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by putting in the effort towards the relationship. they're going to be so patient and loving towards you. they might also like to playfully tease you in public. your person does not have a said love language like pile 1. they're all over the place, but they're fulfilling. they'll never make you feel deprived of their love. you're literally going to be their first priority. the song “no.1 party anthem” by arctic monkeys just came to my mind - the look of love, the rush of blood…. oh pile 2, your person is such a sucker for you. you've got them wrapped around your fingertips. they want to build a future with you. but at the same time, they're scared of what the future holds for them. they're scared you'll find someone better, and it breaks their heart.  you'll need to build trust with your partner and you will need to show them that you're here to say forever. they might get a little possessive towards you but it's because of pure jealousy. they might also have abandonment issues, so you'll need to be very understanding towards them. suddenly i got the energy here that they might be controlling over who you talk to and what you wear, but this can be avoided if you clearly communicate with one another. this behaviour of theirs will make you feel a little strained sometimes but you'll also have to understand that there might have been a very deep rooted trauma as to why they're acting this way. i'm getting the energy here that their family life or their past relationships might not have been that great and that is why they act this way. if you do not like their behaviour, then please voice it out. 

۶ৎ pile III ۶ৎ

page of cups, 3 of wands, 4 of pentacles, 10 of wands, the chariot, the moon, 7 of pentacles, queen of swords, queen of wands 

for some reason, im seeing that y'all would go on cute art dates or dates where y'all would like to do cutesy stuff. lots of paintings and colours came to my mind. maybe pile 3, you could be an artist or maybe your person will be. or maybe you both have an interest in art - either as a profession or a hobby. 

i'm going to be honest, either you or your person have been through a lot. one of you (im mostly getting the energy of your future partner/spouse) would have taken a break from relationships and might have even given up on love. i'm seeing a lot of hurt and mistrust here. relationships might have felt like a job rather than an emotional connection. but here's the thing, when you guys meet each other, everything will change. i'm seeing cherry blossom trees. this relationship is going to be life changing and transformative. your ideas on love will entirely change when you meet one another. this relationship is going to be a new beginning. 

your person is going to show their affection towards you by making you a part of their life. they're going to involve you in each and everything and they're going to try out new things with you. i see you healing their inner child. they're going to be very expressive and emotional with you. i see this relationship moving forward very fast. your person is someone who is very creative so they're going to show their affection towards you in creative ways such as writing you love letters, poetry, painting or they might even cook your favourite meal. they might be an introvert and might be a little nerdy. 

this relationship is going to be very nurturing and im seeing a lot of growth here. your person will also help you come up with creative ideas for your work and they might also help you explore your interests and will support your ambition. they'll love to see you grow and they'll be so proud of you. they're going to be very protective over you because they have never felt this way for anyone. they might also love cuddling/hugging you a lot. your touch gives them this sense of safety. your person might be someone who is under-confident and i see them finding it hard to maintain eye contact with you. i see you helping them build their confidence and i see you supporting them throughout their journey. my dear pile 3, you're such a beautiful person. you're such an understanding person, the world deserves more people like you. i see you being so patient towards them and it honestly warms my heart. at first, they might be a little hesitant to open up to you because of their trust issues and it might take them some time. but your understanding and kind nature will help them to eventually open up. pile 3, i want to give my heartfelt thanks to you because your energy is so lovely, i feel so safe. thank you for being here, pile 3. i truly mean it. 

your person is very sensitive to your emotions so if something bothers you, it bothers them. i see them helping you with your responsibilities by taking on half of your burden and guiding you through your difficult times. they're going to help you stand your ground. i'm also seeing that sometimes they might feel overwhelmed with your love and they might try to push you away, but you understand them so i see you both working through it. your person wants to work things out with you and they want to move this relationship forward. they will be a little hesitant and closed off, but i see you both working through it. i'm also seeing that their actions will be calculated because they are scared of disappointing you or making you angry and honestly this is so sad. they have gone through a lot, pile 3. sometimes you might get tired and irritated with their emotions, but you need to understand where they are coming from. i agree it can be frustrating, but you need to realise that you're the only one they can be so vulnerable towards and that's why they are so open with you. you understand them. this relationship will progress slowly, but it is going to be a very emotionally fulfilling relationship. 

your person is not the type to show their affection in public because they don't like anyone in their business. they might show subtle and soft gestures in public. but when you both are alone, they're raw and honest. sometimes you might feel like they don't show you off or that they aren't very affectionate towards you and if it bothers you, please speak up. your person is afraid of making a move because sometimes they feel like they make you uncomfortable but you need to show them that you want them to be affectionate towards you. they prefer it when you're honest and direct with them and i'm seeing that they prefer it when you tell them what you want. communication is the main key in this relationship. 

i'm also seeing that sometimes your partner might feel bold and will be very flirtatious with you and this might catch you off guard. they are a shy baby, but underneath that surface is a whole new world that will be unlocked only as time passes by and when trust is built from both ends. they might struggle showing affection sometimes, but they'll try their best to make you feel wanted and loved.

hi loves!! i hope this reading finds you in good health and i hope you are doing well. take care of yourself and i will see you in my next reading. thank you for being here<3

(note: tarot & oracle cards provide guidance and possible insights into what could happen based on current energies, thoughts, feelings and actions. the cards can highlight potential paths or outcomes, but they do not predict the future in a fixed way. this is a general reading so take what resonates!)

જ⁀➴ all credit for the pictures & dividers goes to their rightful owners and creators.

[starsinthesky5]

yail blurb idea maybe???

joe and reader trying to do literally anything and joe keeps making those jokes

like they could be working out and all hes thinking and saying is abt taking her back to the bedroom ( and he does )

here's a little something something since i couldn't get the fic up today for YAIL's one year anniversary ;)

perpetually horny joe below!

───────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────

it happens all the time.

they’ll be working out together, both of them focused—her in the middle of a set, joe spotting her, watching the way she moves, the little scrunch of her nose as she powers through. her ponytail swings with every rep, sweat glistening on her skin, and she bites her lip, determined to finish strong. joe tells himself to focus—spot her, don’t stare at her ass, spot her—but it’s impossible when she looks that good.

and then it hits him. the way her body moves, the way she exhales in little, breathy huffs, the way sweat beads at her collarbone, slipping down between the curves he knows so well, and suddenly, he’s not thinking about working out at all.

"you know," he says, his voice low and rough as she racks her weights. we could take this back to the bedroom. work up a different kind of sweat,".

she shoots him a look as she reaches for her water. "you’re ridiculous,".

"am i?" he steps closer, fingers ghosting over her hip, his body heat making hers spike even more. "or are you just scared you won’t be able to keep up?".

the challenge in his voice sends a shiver down her spine. she rolls her eyes, shaking her head. "joe,".

he just smirks, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck, voice like sin against her skin. "c’mon, baby, let’s see who’s got more stamina,".

she exhales through her nose, tilting her head just slightly as his lips graze the sensitive skin under her ear. she can feel the heat radiating off of him, the way his breath fans against her damp skin, the way his fingers skim along the waistband of her shorts.

"we’re supposed to be working out," she points out, but her voice is already softer, breathier.

joe hums, not convinced. "we are working out," he murmurs, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear now. "i’m just suggesting we take it to a more…private setting,".

she scoffs, shoving at his chest, but he barely budges. "you have no self-control, joe. it's 10:30 a.m,".

he grins, reaching for her water bottle, unscrewing the cap and taking a slow sip before handing it back to her. "not when it comes to you,".

the way he says it—all raspy and quiet like it’s a simple fact—makes her stomach flip. but she holds her ground, tilting her head as she smirks up at him. "so, what? you can’t handle me doing a few reps without thinking about bending me over the weight bench?".

his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, and she knows she’s got him.

"jesus christ," he mutters under his breath, scrubbing a hand down his face.

she grins. "thought so,".

but she should know better than to challenge him, because in the next second, joe’s grabbing her wrist, pulling her flush against him, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"baby," he drawls, dragging his thumb over her pulse point. "don’t tempt me,".

her breath catches, heart hammering as she swallows.

he smirks. checkmate.

"now," he murmurs, fingers moving lower, gripping her hip. "are you gonna let me take you home? or do i have to throw you over my shoulder?".

her lips part, pulse racing. she hates how easily he gets to her. hates it, but loves it.

and, well—who is she to deny him?

"you’re paying for my post-workout smoothie," she finally mutters.

his grin is wolfish. "deal,".

--

or they’ll be out shopping—just running errands, nothing remotely suggestive about it—except joe still manages to find a way.

"you’d look real good in this," he muses, holding up some tiny little lace set he spotted while they were supposed to be picking up new sheets.

she lifts a brow, crossing her arms. "and what happened to being ‘smart with money’?".

"this is smart," he counters smoothly, holding the fabric between his fingers, eyes flicking between her and the delicate lace. "investment in our relationship. and we're like...mutli millionaires. this is hardly a dent in any of our pockets, even though i will be paying like usual,".

"you’re so full of shit," she laughed, eyeing the lacy red set.

"nah, baby." he leans in, voice dropping. "i just really wanna see you in it. and out of it,".

she smacks his arm, cheeks warming, but joe? oh, he just grins, because he knows exactly what he’s doing.

she rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but joe can see the tiny twitch at the corner of her lips. he steps closer, his free hand sliding around her waist, tugging her flush against him. "what?" he murmurs, all innocence, but his fingers are playing with the hem of her hoodie, slipping just beneath to brush against warm skin.

"we’re supposed to be buying sheets," she reminds him, though her voice is already softer, breathier.

"mm," joe hums, feigning thought. "and what if i want to get you something to wear on those sheets?".

her brows lift, unimpressed. "wear on the sheets?".

his lips twitch. "briefly,".

she snorts, pushing at his chest, but he doesn’t budge. doesn’t even wobble. just stays there, all tall and broad and warm, his hands staying, his breath spreading across her cheek.

"if i try it on," she says, tilting her chin up at him, "you’re not coming in the fitting room,".

his eyes flick down to her lips, then back up. "baby, i would never,".

she glares, knowing that's a damn lie, and he just grins.

she groans, snatching the lace set from his hands. "you are going to the register,".

he just smirks, watching her scurry off toward the fitting rooms, the little red number dangling from her fingers.

"gladly," he murmurs, already reaching for his wallet.

--

it happens at a friend’s house party—music playing, drinks flowing, bodies moving in easy conversation. she’s off chatting with some friends, her laughter ringing through the room, and joe? joe is leaning against the bar, nursing his drink, watching her with that look. the kind that makes her whole body tingle, like he’s already touching her from across the damn house.

he’s been patient. all night, he’s played it cool, nodded along to conversations, pretended like he wasn’t dying to have her closer. but now? now, with the way she keeps glancing at him, the way her dress clings to her like a second skin, the way she bites her lip around her straw—he’s about to lose it.

so when she finally makes her way back over to him, he doesn’t even give her a second to breathe before he leans in, lips brushing her ear, voice thick with heat.

"been thinkin’ about gettin’ you alone all night, baby,".

her breath catches, heat pooling in her stomach, but she refuses to give in so easily. she tilts her head, eyes flicking up at him, playful and knowing. "oh, yeah? that why you’re staring at me like that?".

his fingers find the small of her back, warm and insistent, slipping beneath the fabric of her top, skin to skin. his grip tightens, just slightly. "mhmm,".

she sips her drink, feigning nonchalance, though her pulse is hammering. "well, too bad," she teases. "i’m enjoying the party with our friends,".

joe just chuckles, quiet and knowing, his lips barely an inch from hers. "that’s cute, sweetheart," he murmurs, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against her spine, flashing her those irresistible bedroom eyes.

her breath catches, but she keeps her composure—barely. the way he’s looking at her, all heat and promise, like he already knows exactly how this night is going to end, sends a shiver down her spine.

"cute, huh?" she says, tilting her head, trying to keep her voice steady despite the way her body betrays her, leaning into his touch. "is that what you think?".

joe smirks slowly, fingers pressing just a little firmer against her back. "mm," he hums, dipping his head so his lips ghost along the shell of her ear. "think it’s cute you’re pretending you don’t wanna leave with me right now,".

her breath stutters. his voice is all gravel and honey, thick with something dark and knowing, and it’s doing dangerous things to her determination.

she could fight it—keep teasing, keep pretending like she’s not two seconds from giving in—but the way his fingertips trace absentminded circles against her lower back, the way his voice drips with something wicked and irresistible, the way he looks at her like he’s already imagining all the ways he’s going to ruin her—yeah, she’s toast.

so she exhales, lets her fingers trail down his arm before slipping into his hand, lacing their fingers together. "one drink," she tries, but it’s weak at best.

joe chuckles again, squeezing her hand, flashing her that smug, lopsided grin that tells her he already knows she’s full of shit.

"sure, sweetheart," he murmurs, pressing a sluggish, lingering kiss just below her ear, his lips barely brushing her skin. "one drink,".

but they both know damn well she won’t be finishing it.

--

but the worst one—the one that really gets her?

the card game.

the air is stale with competition, both of them sitting cross-legged on the couch, knees brushing, a mess of playing cards scattered between them. her brows are furrowed, lips pursed in deep concentration as she studies her hand, determined to win. joe watches her, amused—she’s so damn focused, so convinced she’s got the upper hand. and honestly? she might.

but joe’s got a different kind of victory in mind.

he leans forward, elbows on his knees, his smirk mischievous, "you know," he drawls, voice dropping to that honeyed rasp that makes her shiver, "there’s a different kinda game we could be playing right now,".

she doesn’t look up, too focused. "joe, hush and pick a card,".

"nah," he shakes his head, grin widening as he tosses his card onto the pile. "i think i’d rather play strip poker,".

her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "you are insufferable joseph lee burrow,".

"nah, baby," he counters smoothly, dragging his fingers along the curve of her thigh, slow, teasing, just enough to make her breath falter. "i just know how to have a little fun,".

she glares at him, but her body betrays her—the way her thighs clench slightly, the way her chest rises a little faster. joe notices everything.

"joe—,".

he leans in, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "bet i can make you fold real quick,".

his fingers trace higher, grazing the hem of her shorts, feather-light but willful. she swallows, heart hammering, heat pooling low in her stomach. she knows exactly what he’s doing—knows this is just another one of his games—but damn it, she’s already losing. "you're always horny," she mutters, but her voice wavers.

joe just smirks, slow and smug, eyes locked on hers as he pushes his luck, his palm spreading warm over her bare thigh. "mm, maybe," he murmurs, "but you love it,".

she exhales sharply, tossing her cards down. "you are the worst,".

joe chuckles, shifting closer, his lips grazing her jaw, his hands already slipping beneath her shirt, fingertips tracing along her ribs as he begins to move his hand to her back, inching towards her bra clasp. "nah, sweetheart," he breathes, his mouth finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, "pretty sure you love this,".

and she absolutely did. even if she put up a fight at first ;)

[somuchanxietysolittletime]

I know I already reblogged this. I know I am now reblogging this from a mutual who is JUST as fed up with the Democratic party as I am. And I know I am SO TIRED of their inaction too, but at the same time... like... it must be so demoralizing and frustrating to be a Democrat in office right now because MAGA LOVES it when they pitch a rightful fit.

Make no mistake, behind their whataboutisms and whinging about decorum, MAGA is run by a bunch of fucking trolls. They cater to fucking trolls. Their base is full of fucking trolls. These are some of the most immature, bratty, evil-hearted individuals on the planet and they want nothing more than to see Liberals and Leftists lose their shit over abuses of power and abject cruelty. It's why they are doing it.

If you ever see a moment where fascism is out in full light and wonder, 'How do they get away with this???' it's because they know it pisses you off, and they love it. It's a power game. They get control, and they get emotional satisfaction from watching the other side scream bloody murder.

This is one big performance piece.

Normally, if this was an online forum (Speaking from experience as a former professional moderator), this is where the adults in the room step in. We'd remind people to not feed the trolls, ban those involved, remind users of community guidelines, and tighten up our sweeps to make sure to catch stragglers.

But the Republicans have spent the past ten-ish years getting rid of the adults in the room. There are no moderators anymore. And any time someone tries to step into that role, like judges trying to reign in Trump's power, they are threatened by the very institutions they are trying to protect.

And Republicans would love nothing more than to be able to say Democrats have become a party of dissidents who must be expelled from Congress and lose what little power they still have in the government. It would make them SO happy to have even the smallest excuse to do so.

Make no mistake, I am in no way excusing their inaction. We can't fight fashion by color-coordinating it out of existence. Pink suits doesn't stop the fact that we're two steps from pink triangles again.

I also would like to point to the excellent video by Innuendo Studios called The Alt-Right Playbook: You Go High, We Go Low. In it he touches on a big failure of liberals: Their reliance on invisible rules that Republicans don't play by or even believe in. Essentially, liberals never play dirty. They govern like they sincerely believe that if they follow the playbook, eventually a referee will come in and call they game for them.

There is no referee. They were all shot by Trump in the middle of mainstreet and no one who matters, cares.

The problem is, Liberals should have been playing dirty ten years ago. Now they will have to work twice as smart and three times as hard, while trying to avoid giving fascist trolls an excuse to seize more power.

Can anybody give these old-ass Democrats protest lessons? They're acting like they're still living in pre-2015 politics when the GOP gave a shit and wasn't deranged.

A member gets up and starts shouting: All get up and shout with him.

Don't walk out: MAKE them carry you all out, not shutting up the entire time. I'm serious, go limp, be dead weight.

Putin's Puppet says a provable lie: Everyone chant "LIE" in unison for a solid minute instead of holding pitiful little signs in front of a man who can't read above a 3rd grade level.

Have someone who knows ASL sitting with you, interpreting everything in full view.

If you're gonna hold signs, make them BIG like you're actually trying to do something. Have them in multiple languages.

Make other signs that say clever or cutting things that will make him rage for days. "DOESN'T OLD TRUMP LOOK TIRED?" or "PUPPET PRESIDENT" or "EVERYONE IS FACT-CHECKING THIS SPEECH TRUMP DIDN'T WRITE" or "THE EMPEROR HAS NO CLOTHES" or his current tanking approval rating next to a laughing emoji.

Make a stink every day in congress, throw as many bills as you can on the floor even if they go nowhere, look like you're trying.

Have someone, idk maybe someone you actually want to boost for President in 3 gd years, be your voice of opposition in the media, loudly complaining and telling the facts, every single day. Let the people know you're there!

How hard is this? There's probably better suggestions than mine if they actually hired seasoned protestors or behaviorists/psychologists or even the biggest teenage troll they can find on a messageboard.

The Emperor Has No Clothes. So fucking act like it.

[lazysoulwriter]

warm kisses, cold mountains. - lando norris.

using this request to say that i'm writing for lando now! ♡ (sorry if I take too long bubs)

----

The cold air bites at your cheeks as you adjust the goggles resting on your forehead, your snowboard tucked under your arm. The Austrian Alps stretch endlessly behind you, a breathtaking backdrop to yet another Red Bull-sponsored training session. Snowboarding has been your life for as long as you can remember, and now, being one of the top athletes in the sport, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Well… except maybe for the man currently watching you with a grin from the sidelines.

Lando Norris, the McLaren driver who somehow became the love of your life, sits on a snow-covered bench, bundled up in layers, his nose and cheeks slightly pink from the cold. He’s been here all morning, watching you practice, cheering you on between his sips of hot chocolate.

When you reach him, shaking the fresh powder off your jacket, he immediately opens his arms for you. “Come here,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around his neck.

You don’t hesitate. Settling onto his lap, you feel the warmth of his body seep through the thick layers of your clothes. He tightens his arms around you, nuzzling his face against your shoulder.

“You look amazing out there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jaw. “I swear, I could watch you do this all day.”

You chuckle, running a gloved hand through his curls. “That’s literally what you’ve been doing.”

“Yeah, well…” He grins, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Still not enough.”

You sigh, letting your forehead rest against his. The contrast between his warm breath and the crisp mountain air makes you shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold.

“You should come with me on the next run,” you tease, tilting your head slightly. “I can teach you a thing or two.”

Lando lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I like my bones intact, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes. “Coward.”

“Smart,” he corrects, his lips curving into a smirk before he kisses you—slow, sweet, and lingering, the kind that makes you forget about the cold entirely.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours again, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your waist.

“I don’t get how you’re not freezing,” he mutters, pulling you even closer.

“Years of training in the snow,” you say with a small smile. “And maybe the fact that you’re a human heater helps.”

Lando hums, clearly content. “I like being useful.”

“You are.” You brush your lips against his cheek. “In more ways than one.”

He grins at that, squeezing your sides playfully. “Good. Because I plan on being your personal cheerleader forever.”

You shake your head with a laugh before standing up, grabbing your snowboard. “Alright, since you won’t come with me, at least wait here. I have one more run, and then we can go back to the cabin.”

Lando groans dramatically. “Fine. But only if there’s hot chocolate involved.”

You wink. “And extra marshmallows.”

His face lights up, and before you can turn away, he grabs your wrist, pulling you in for another kiss—this one a little deeper, a little more lingering.

“Now go,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second. “I’ll be here. Always.”

With one last smile, you strap your board on and push off, knowing that, no matter how many slopes you conquer, nothing will ever compare to the warmth of Lando’s love.

And later, when the two of you are back at the cabin, tangled up under thick blankets, his hands tracing lazy patterns on your skin as the fireplace crackles softly in the background—you realize that some kinds of warmth have nothing to do with the temperature outside.

----

[comatosebunny09]

not quite human [ 01 ] | sylus

— summary: the led in his temple whirls a soft yellow before returning to its usual, tranquil blue. “my name is sylus.” it doesn’t sound as silly coming from him. rolls off his tongue like the steady push and pull of waves against the shoreline. it’s comforting in a way. disarming. maybe you’re not as bad at naming things as you think.

— cw: reader implied to be femme, gendered terms, alcohol, profanity, sarcasm, innuendoes, allusions to robot sex, sylus is an android, futuristic au

— notes: heavily influenced by detroit: become human, @asirensrage, and my own horny, thirsty thoughts. tysm for reading. please enjoy!

Stiff.

You crave something stiff to ease the ache between your shoulders, the grind of your teeth, and the pounding in your temples as you step into the car garage’s elevator. 

You let your shoulders drop with an exhale as the doors slip shut after punching your desired floor into the holographic panel. The lift lightly jostles to begin its ascent. You close your eyes against the blaring, fluorescent lights overhead, leaning against the rail, your head colliding with the wall behind with a muted thunk. 

Days like these, you come closer and closer to dropping your resignation letter. You should feel fortunate—you have a job in a world where unemployment is on the rise. Doesn’t mean a desk job is as cushy as it seems. You have carpal tunnel and a splitting migraine as testament to your woes. Plus, you don’t drink enough water. Dumb ass.

The elevator reaches its destination, a tinny, mellifluous voice announcing your floor from the intercom overhead. As if you shoulder the world, you drag yourself from the lift, stalking through the quiet, sepia-toned hallway like something undead.

You picture the bottle of Don Julio waiting for you on your counter. Can practically taste it as you round the bend towards your apartment. But something brown and bulky catches your eye, obscuring your door and slowing your steps.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, squinting as you approach it. You step around the ominous box to scrutinize it further. It’s so huge that it barely grazes the top of your doorframe and is almost the width of it. 

You don’t recall ordering anything, especially something so massive. You scour the box’s surface for any indication of where it could’ve come from—a return address, a telltale logo, a note. Something. When your search doesn’t yield any answers, you sigh, stomping your feet and flailing your arms around like a child.

“I don’t have time for this,” you say through a glower, slipping off your bag. 

The box obstructs your apartment, so you have one of two choices: shove it out of the way into the midst of the hallway for someone else to deal with, or muscle it through your door and deal with it inside. The former seems like it’ll take more effort, given that there’s little to no wiggle room between the cut of your doorframe and the box for you to squeeze into. 

Resigned, you drop your bag and ruck up your sleeves. After unlocking your door with your biometrics, the soft spill of clean linen and lavender from inside motivating you, you prepare yourself to shove this ridiculously huge thing into your home.

Your intentions are good. But it’s so fucking heavy, it barely budges an inch. 

“What the fuck!” you grate, kicking the box as if it’ll solve all your problems. That proves to be a mistake, and you comically hop around, clutching your smarting foot.

You glare at the box when the pain subsides, caught in a stare down with an inanimate object like a cowboy in an old, filmy western. You’re no bitch. Sure, you really should exercise more—you’ve been paying for a gym membership for the past year that you haven’t touched. Maybe this wouldn't be such a task if you had a bit more muscle. But you refuse to be bested by a fucking box. A box that stands between you and a stiff one.

So, you shove, shimmy, and tilt it every way you can until you’ve managed to get it through your doorframe and into your home. I’m proud of myself, you think as you dust off your hands like you’ve done some real work. You only cried twice, had one existential crisis, one meltdown, and you didn’t have to call the fire department to help you this time. You’re making progress.

You slip past the enormous thing, nearly losing a nipple in the process. Kick off your heels, the motion-sensing lights triggering as you make a beeline for your minibar. You snatch up a whiskey glass and your decanter, watching the liquid gold slosh about like a man deprived of water in the desert. 

Panting, you down the contents of the glass in one go. It’s a good burn, a reward for all your efforts, and you sweep some sweat-slicked hair out of your face, leaning against your counter to catch your breath. It is here that you take time to appraise the box, wishing you could burn holes into the damn thing with your glare alone. 

Whoever sent this is trying to fuck with you, you just know it. You haven’t a clue what’s inside, and you’re not even sure if it’s yours. But you put in all this effort to shoulder it into your home. So, you snatch up a box cutter from your miscellaneous utility drawer, brandishing it as you approach the box like a maniac about to carve up someone’s face.

You cut away at the tape securing the edges, cackling like a madwoman. Jared Leto would be proud. You pull and snatch at the cardboard, the sound of the carnage, the only noise inhabiting your still apartment. When you’ve eviscerated the box, packing popcorn and plastic strips strewn everywhere like entrails, you’re met with a white, featureless pod inside. 

It’s half the size of the box it came in, the jaundiced gleam of your entryway light bouncing off its pristine surface. Suspicious, you hop back to squint at it. If it were a bomb, it surely would’ve gone off by now, what with you shaking the damn thing like a vending machine refusing to give you candy. What on earth could this be? And why the fuck do you have it?

Shrugging, you approach the pod, poking at it with a broom and a pot lid held to your face as a makeshift shield. The pod doesn’t respond to your prodding—no surprise there. You toss down your weapons, and with anxiety welling in your throat, you smooth your hands over the pod’s cool surface, searching for an entry point. 

You trigger something in your exploration, a light beep causing you to stiffen. You scramble back as the pod whirs to life, hissing with an exhalation of air, smoke pouring from its seams. 

Fuck, you think, squeezing your eyes shut, this might be the end. And to think, you’ve watched so many horror movies telling you why you shouldn’t touch ominous shit. Oh well. You’ve lived a good life. Although, you’re still low-key upset you didn’t get to try shrooms at least once. 

The smoking and hissing subside, and you cough in their wake, waving your hand to ward them off. You open an eye, the pod’s door fully raised, and as the fog clears, you’re met with the sight of…a man, curled up inside in the fetal position like a Pokémon. 

“Um?” 

You kneel before this being that looks too big to be stuffed into the pod like an action figure, and you study him. 

A riotous mop of white hair sits atop his head, though it’s coiffed in a way that works for him. His eyes are closed beneath manicured, silver brows, peacefully fringed by dark lashes. You next notice his nose, carved in a Roman god’s image. Full, rouge lips sit amid chiseled features, stretched over summery skin. Despite the alarm bells ringing in your head, you poke his cheek, surprised to feel your nail sinking into what feels like flesh. 

“Oh no. He’s hot.”

His physique shows through the tailored hug of his suit, like a man destined to work on a farm, tending to horses, or a fruit stand. Further scrutiny yields something that makes your lips purse. The telltale, blue armband glows on his bicep. You shoot up as if taking a hot poker in the ass.

“An android?” you query under your breath, thoroughly confused. “The fuck do I need one of these for?” 

Tapping your lip, you pace your living room, scrolling through the catalog of your mind for who could’ve possibly sent you a gift from CyberLife. And an expensive one, at that. You’ve seen this model before—a prototype advertised on every billboard and mode of public transport in the city, yet to be released to the masses. Only three of them have been created so far. How’d you manage to get your hands on one of them?

You snatch up your phone, urgently swiping through your contacts. You think maybe it’s your mother’s doing. She’s known for sending you spur-of-the-moment shit. But she can’t navigate her way around a phone without help, let alone figure out how to order you a top-of-the-line Ken doll.

Maybe it’s your father. But he’d rather chew glass than send you anything practical. Your friends, maybe? They could’ve scrounged some money together to buy you a gift. They have been bitching about you needing to get laid, and what better way to orchestrate that than by sending a fucking sex bot?

Before you can draw up the group chat, the whirring of machinery and fans makes you jolt, your phone clattering on the floor. Your attention snaps to the source of the sound, another plume of smoke pouring from the pod to obscure the sight of your new…friend. 

If you die from smoke inhalation, you’re going to haunt these halls and tip every painting in every apartment sideways just to fuck with people. 

When the new cloud of mist dissipates, you’re ramrod stiff and petrified in the face of this skyscraper of a man. 

He smells of sterile walls and clean oil, his face an impassive mask as he takes in his surroundings with striking, scarlet eyes. His model number glows a serene white on his right breast pocket, CyberLife’s triangular logo pulsing on the left. As if it weren’t already obvious he was a bot, a small, circular LED gleams blue on his temple to signify that he’s…on? Operational? Scaring you shitless?

When he’s done processing his surroundings, those sharp eyes land on you. And you would shit yourself if not for the facsimile of a smile twitching the corners of his mouth. It’s like it hurts him. Doesn’t at all look natural amid his insanely handsome features. 

“Um,” you start, waving a cautious hand, “hi?”

“Hello,” he says, the pleasant purr of his voice curdling low in your stomach. “I am a fourth-generation SLX900 Android. I can look after your house, cook, mind your children, and organize your appointments.”

You watch him with your mouth spilling open as he goes through his initialization spiel. He’s broad-shouldered and big, and you bite your lip against a laugh, imagining this hulk of a machine in your kitchen in a frilly, pink apron, scrubbing your dishes. 

“I speak 300 languages, and I am entirely at your disposal as a sexual partner—”

Heat blooms in your face. You wave your hands frantically, signifying that he skips past the intimate bits. You’re down atrocious, but you don’t think you’d ever fuck an android. Not that he doesn’t look breedable. Besides, how do they even—

“No need to feed or recharge me. I am equipped with a quantum battery that makes me autonomous for 173 years.” The android straightens, clasping his hands together behind his back. “Would you like to give me a name?”

The way he recites his lines with such cold, indifferent precision makes a thrill echo down your spine. You know that CyberLife designed these things to be as human-like as possible. You’ve worked with a few of them; their uncanny valley composure gives you the heebie jeebies. 

Despite the calm burr of his voice, there’s something about him—something spuming beneath the layers of circuitry and memory cards and wiring—that unsettles you.

So hung up in your ruminations, you forget that he asked you a question.

“Would you like to give me a name?” he parrots, tone as even as the first time. 

“Um, yeah, sure…”

You tap your chin in thought, studying the incandescent lights overhead as if they can yield you an answer. Names have never been your forte. If it were up to you, you’d call everything as you saw it—Hey, I’m gonna name you Plant. You? Plant 2. And you? Dickhead. 

You don’t know how the name comes to you, but you regurgitate it before you can give it much thought. “Sylus.”

The LED in his temple whirls a soft yellow before returning blue. That terrifying smile reemerges, splitting his face in twain like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas. You flinch, wishing he’d never smile like that again.

“My name is Sylus.” It doesn’t sound as silly coming from him. Rolls off his tongue like the steady push and pull of waves against the shoreline. It’s comforting in a way. Disarming.

He blinks after the grin slips from his mouth, traded for something less creepy. Scans over you as if committing your face to his internal storage. His lips slightly part, hovering over a question. Had you known any better, you’d have mistaken him for being pensive.

“And what might I call you, Miss?”

You give him your name, toying with your fingers like a shy teen. He repeats it like a gentle praise, rolling the syllables around in his mouth. The heat in your skin burns tenfold. Why does everything this guy says sound so fucking hot?

A few moments escape between the pair of you. You’re looking everywhere but at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious beneath his calculating gaze. The light whir of his internal fans competes with that of your pulsing heart. 

You laugh nervously, attempting to break the tension. “So, uh…what do I do with you? Do I, like, water you like a plant? Am I not supposed to feed you past midnight, or…”

He chuckles, the sound of it more human-like than anything he’s said thus far. “I can do whatever you need me to do. I am at your disposal.” 

Don’t know why, but your mind automatically goes to the gutter. Get it together, you hornball. Horny jail for you. Bonk! 

The tense silence stretches for a beat longer. Your newest guest surveys your living room with quiet judgment. “Why don’t I begin with straightening up your home? Would that be a good place to start?”

You blanch. Your living room looks like utter shit. Clothes sit on every surface like your dryer threw up—they’re clean, you swear. Errant bowls and drinking glasses litter your coffee table and kitchen island. A few cartons of Chinese takeout sit on your counter like decorations. You’re mortified. Sure, he’s a machine. But you would die if anyone saw you living like this, machine or not. 

“Heh…I swear, it’s not normally like this. I’ve been working, ya know? Don’t really have time to clean.”

Sylus smirks, a dimple cratering his synthetic cheek. That looks more genuine than that constipated shit he gave you earlier. “Well, that is where I come in, Miss. I won’t judge you for your questionable habits. It’s not in my programming.”

You watch the android step off, bending to turn on your robotic vacuum cleaner before getting to work. He moves around your home with efficient grace, a rehearsed ease as he tidies up as if that’s his sole purpose.

Something warm spills into your belly. You’ve never been one to stand idly by while people take care of you. Never been one to keep your hands clean, always itching to help in any way possible. Burning to feel useful. So, you start picking up your home with your shiny new android friend, working beside him in somewhat comfortable harmony.

Maybe he isn’t such a terrible surprise after all. That logic goes out the window when he picks up one of your thongs, twirling it around his slender figure with a smug shine to his eyes. 

You snatch it from him, telling him to leave the clothes to you, burning like a tea kettle. CyberLife thought of everything, didn’t they?

Crickets chirp beyond your window, chorusing with the steady rustle of the grass and leaves. The moon sits high in the inky sky, stars dotting the violet canvas like spilled milk. The city outside bustles with nightlife, androids and humans walking the streets side by side as if they’ve always coexisted in monotonous harmony.

[bonus-links]

IMMA BE THE FIRST TO ASK (I HOPE) CUZ IM LITERALLY CHOMPING AT THE BIT DIRECTORS COMMENTARY PLEASE

GANON??? THE EYES???? BANGER UPDATE 👹

the people have spoken and they want director's commentary (this isn't even all of them lol) OKAY HERE WE GO

the original draft of this scene was much shorter, and Loft actually didn't say anything at all in it. As I kept making the chapter it started to feel weird that he would just. Let Ganondorf say his piece without contributing anything. i like this version of the scene much better

listen. I love WW Ganondorf. He's my favorite Ganondorf. I was going to find a way to fit him into this chapter no matter what

in particular, I love that you get a sense from WW Ganondorf that he is, on some level, sympathetic to Link. Or if not sympathetic, understanding of his place in all this. He tells Link that his gods have abandoned him, that he has not particular quarrel with him, etc. But ultimately it doesn't matter. If this is who the gods have sent to stand in his way, so be it. Essentially, it's not my fault the gods are so callous as to send a child after me.

we're going w the canon that WW Ganondorf is the same as OOT, or at least remembers being him. Don't ask me how. Nintendo doesn't know either

big ol eyeball. which could mean nothing

How does Ganondorf recognize Loft? by that stupid hat. jokes aside he doesn't know Which Link Specifically Loft is, but he's smart enough to figure out that he's a hero of some sort.

Likewise, Loft is smart enough to figure it out as well. He's spent a lot of his chapter thinking about Ganondorf, and if you'll recall from Ch1, he knows from Zelda that Ganon once had a mortal form. I think, from Loft's perspective, he has a hunch that this Ganon figure is the mortal reincarnation of Demise, the way Zelda is the mortal reincarnation of Hylia. I wanna emphasize that's what HE thinks might be going on based on his experiences. He's not the knower of all things. He has a conspiracy board in his mind

the face of a guy who's like. I am not going to be lectured to about morality from the King of Evil. I was very excited to let Loft be snarky at long last. But he also, notably, doesn't push back against what Ganondorf is saying that hard. He doesn't even say that he's wrong, just implies that he's probably a hypocrite. In fact, a lot of this update is about what Loft DOESN'T say or acknowledge

Ganondorf's opening line is about how much he hates that statue of the hero of time, because it's "such grandeur for a mere child". I think he means that at face value, but he's also making another point— the hero of time was a child, but they're not going to depict him that way in his monument. It's honestly sort of ambiguous with the actual model because of ww's style, but it looks like adult proportions to me. The story Wake grew up with calls him a child, but his monument in the castle is of an adult. That was the idea behind this set of panels, the parts of the Hero of Time's story that aren't going to be put on the pedestal

speaking of that I realized making this update that I literally. forgot the pedestal. I just didn't draw it all this time. in my defense the castle in no clip looks like this. no statue or pedestal

except I recently found out by accident that he's literally. under the floor. what the fuck

ANYWAY. I really liked the symmetry of Ganondorf turing to stone at the end of the dream. He won't get any perfect monuments made to him. Also, looks like there's a suspicious lack of water in the underwater castle. which could mean nothing

I'm not gonna comment too much on other details, because i've got to keep some of my secrets. I do think that this update gives a lot away HAHA though that was kind of on purpose. We're entering year 3 of this comic and we're finally starting to get places lolol

WAIT I ALMOST FORGOT loft looks the same way he did when he last touched the triforce

and we've seen a border similar to this before haven't we

that's all i got for now, thanks everybody! im having a blast reading ur comments <3

[ohgodsalazarwhy]

I'd say a good 70% of my job is talking to victims of these scams. I tell them the same thing every single time, "You are not stupid, anyone of any age can and do fall for these scams. The scammers do this as a full time job and they know all the tricks of the trade. There is no shame in falling for it. Tell me what you've learned from this experience."

I can assure you they already feel ashamed of falling for these things, they berate themselves in front of me. Or sometimes they try to lie to me, because being honest is too embarrassing. Or they'll get mad at me for asking about it, again, because they are ashamed and anger is easier than shame.

Some fall for scams eagerly. And when you tell them it's a scam they'll hurl abuse at you for daring to suggest such a thing. Every. Single. One. Will say something along the lines of "I can't fall for scams, I'm too smart. I'm smarter than other people, and I'm doing this thing, so this thing can't be a scam."

So the greatest thing you can know to guard yourself against scams of all kind is this:

You are not special. You are not smarter than any other person in any meaningful way. You are a target, and your targets are all in your blind spots. You must be humble and know humility and be brave enough to taste shame or you will forever be trapped.

😭

[wendichester]

hi💕 would you please write something sweet about (possibly gender neutral) reader having a very young sibling (talking about VERY young. like 6 or 7 years old or younger) that has grown very attached to the boys?

they met on a hunt and decided to stick together, and ever since the little kid can't stop spending time with Dean and Sam, always keeps them company etc.

(bonus idea: one night maybe Sam is looking after the kid since reader left for a hunt, putting them to sleep, and the kid reveals that reader has a thing for Sam.. and always talks about him to their sibling. idk it could be cute)

₊˚⊹ ᰔ bedtime secrets,

summary. kids and their blabbering mouths. no secrets are safe! especially possible crushes.

pairing. sam winchester x gender neutral reader

wordcount. 400

notes. first time writing gender neutral reader, so I hope I was able to do it well! thank you so much for requesting sweets 🩷

Sam tucks the blanket up to your brother's chin, smoothing it out the way he’s seen you do a hundred times. He blinks up at him sleepily, small hands clutching the stuffed rabbit he refuses to sleep without.

“You comfy?” he asks, voice soft.

A slow, drowsy nod. “Mhm.”

Outside, the motel room is quiet—just the occasional hum of passing cars and the faint murmurs of Dean watching TV in the other room. You’re still out on a hunt, and Sam had offered to keep an eye on your sibling for the night. It’s been… nice, honestly. The little kid has been glued to him and Dean ever since you all met, and Sam can’t deny that it’s kind of adorable.

He moves to stand, but before he can, a tiny hand reaches out, grabbing his sleeve.

“Sam?”

He sits back down. “Yeah, kiddo?”

He hesitates, eyes darting toward the door like he’s making sure you’re not about to burst in. Then, in a conspiratorial whisper, he says, “Y’know, they talk about you a lot.”

Sam blinks. “Who does?”

“[Reader],” he whispers, like it’s a top-secret mission. He rolls onto his side, propping his head up with his little hands. “They looove talking about you.”

Sam’s lips twitch. “Oh yeah?”

Another big, dramatic nod. “All the time. Like—like how you’re super tall and smart and really nice and how you always smell good—”

Sam chokes on a laugh. “They said that?”

“Mhm.” His little face scrunches up in thought. “And one time they said your hair looks soft. And one time, they said your hands were really big but in a cool way, not a scary way.”

Sam bites the inside of his cheek, warmth creeping up his neck.

“Oh, and they always get excited when you say their name. Like, always.” The kid yawns, eyes fluttering sleepily. “I think they like you.”

Sam is still recovering from the hands comment, so that one hits hard. He clears his throat, unsure what to do with the ridiculous smile tugging at his lips.

“They say anything about Dean?” he teases, trying to shift the attention off of himself.

The kid shrugs, already halfway to sleep. “Sometimes. But mostly just that he’s loud.”

Sam snorts.

A moment later, his tiny voice murmurs, “You won’t tell them I said that, right?”

Sam chuckles, tucking the blanket up one last time. “It’s our secret.”

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[wisteriasymphony]

when I think of a felix-and-mylene dynamic, I mainly consider it based on Mylene's unshakeable faith in humanity versus Felix's unshakeable lack of faith in it? Mylene wants to change the system via protest and reform while Felix wants to destroy it entirely and build anew.

She's hoping to build a better world through advocacy and diplomacy meanwhile Felix is in full-on revolution, bring out the guillotine, we HAVE to kill the elite capitalist abusers there is no other choice. For Mylene, peace and respect have to be part of that path to a better future; Felix is very Frankenstein's Creature-esque in his belief that if your oppressors don't show you any respect and don't see your life as having value, then you shouldn't have to play nice with them at all.

Like. She is so certain that their voices will be heard and Felix is so certain that they will always fall upon deaf ears. idk.

THIS IS IT!!! LITERALLY!!! PERFECT INCREDIBLE BEAUTIFUL NO NOTES!!!! some notes. but it's added notes cause you said such good things.

I (and Silu) think the issue is that they're both leftist, but Felix is so misanthropic so it's a very anti-humanist/anti-natalist/anti-life outlook. Communism is just another way for him to be a little rebel bad boy and see the system as something evil and unfixable and awful. Mylene isn't like that, she believes in what she believes because she holds ideas like the inherent good of humanity and an inherent obligation to help your follow man close to her heart.

Felix is, to a T, the kind of communist that Disco Elysium refers to as a "very, very smart boy with something like a university degree in Truth" that was "fucked over" by Marx's socio-economic theory.

No, he's not gonna try and make the world better, that's stupid, He's just gonna get all mad at the suckery of it all and maybe do a magic terrorism genocide about it but not actually something productive. No! He likes the violence, he got it from his daddy, and he's gonna wield it the way it was wielded on him but better and more justified this time. "The world is bad and it will be bad forever, but I'm gonna start doing the bad in the other direction for once." Et cetera, et cetera.

There's also the idea that his communist views are very influenced by his aristocratic upbringing, making him a little hypocritical in a way. Mylene at least isn't literally related to royalty to even if she was all revolutionary about it there wouldn't be any irony to it.

But if my Claudrien stuff demonstrates anything, it's that I do love a good, fraught, dysfunctional pessimism x optimism dynamic, and Mylix does that super well.

[voidofthevoidmv]

Bill Cipher, except he genuinely CANT LIE.

Like, at all. Legitimately he is incapable of telling a lie.

Like sure, he can certainly dodge questions, or maybe create a loophole or two- But if you were to ask him a question directly with no way of avoiding it- HE HAS NO CHOICE BUT TO BE HONEST. And this fudges him over on multiple accounts.

And when he’s trying to dodge questions to avoid giving away his secrets or intentions- I want you to envision the scene from Shrek 3, where Pinocchio is being interrogated by Prince Charming concerning Shreks whereabouts- See here and he’s just RAMBLING-

Now, despite everything, this doesn’t change much. He still has flattery tactics and is careful with his worlds- Despite all his smarts Ford can still be blinded by his own hubris. So the whole portal thing goes down similarly to canon… Untill the portal incident happens.

With Ford stuck in the portal, Bill had no way of rebuilding it seeing that nobody would be willing… Aside from STANLEY PINES who is at a loss at what to do. The perfect willing assistant in rebuilding the portal. And bill wouldn’t have to lie that much cuz their goals really do aline somewhat… So, the demon tries to strike a deal…

This is when shit hits the fan for Bill.

And hey, let’s even go as far as to exaggerate the whole “Must return his half of the deal no matter what” portion of Bill’s deal making abilities. With this in mind, let’s take a look at EX CON STANLEY PINES who can sniff out a bad deal in no time- Due to his years of experience on the streets. And being the con artist that he is, Stanley being confronted by another con artist who can only tell the truth and also is confined to whatever deals they make… Well, this can only go well for him.

So Stanley tricks Bill- As he would in most dimensions if you get my gist. While Bill is offering unlimited knowledge in exchange for Stan’s compliance or something- Stan can easily twist Bills words against themselves and long story short- Bill is now trapped in Stanley’s debt and is confined to… Hmmm…

Let’s say he’s stuck constantly possessing a little magic 8 ball. And whoever shakes him, he’s forced to admit information to. A seriously bad deal on his part, an extremely great one on Stan’s part. So, Bill must help Stan get on with the portal without any sort of escape…

What’s even worse is that as time goes on, sometimes Stan even uses Bill as one of his ATTRACTIONS. (Honestly, Bill is lucky. Stan had been seconds away from binding the demon to a Zoltar machine-)

And time passes just as it would in canon, that is, untill the little pines twins come around to stay for the summer. And while I haven’t thought too hard about what the episodes looks like as I imagine it all doesn’t change too much- However. One thing that inspired this whole thing is how the kids are first introduced to bill- Something like:

Stan: Here kids- Meet Bill. This guy will answer all your pesky little questions.

Dipper: …Grunkle Stan, you named your magic 8 ball Bill?

Stan: Huh? Nah, he was called that when I first got him. Also Bill is just this all-knowing demon thing that I trapped inside of that ball in like… What was it- Was it- 85? Bah whatever-

Dipper: A demon…

Mable: *Eyes sparkling* Can I shake it???

Stan: *Tosses the ball casually* Sure knock yourself out kid.

Mable: Woahhhh…

Dipper: What is that thing… Is that… A triangle?

Stan: Welp. I’ll let you kids have at it- OH YEAH. He can’t lie so there’s that.

Or something like that. Haven’t worked out the kinks yet, but I think in this scenario Stan lets the kids mess around with Bill sometimes in hopes that the knowledge he possesses can help prevent the kids from like- Getting themselves in danger or something. And once the kids realize that they can just twist their words in order to make Bill slip and give helpful information- Well I can only imagine their shithead grins as Bill curses to the heavens. Dipper and Bill will banter a lot, with Bill obviously doing his best to break this pre-pubescent boys self esteem but it only assists in Dippers character development. Meanwhile, Bill and Mable can be lowkey chaotic and he could even respect her antics- If not for her whole “empathy and emotions” thing. (Perhaps a teensy bit of character development in places… But if Bill is a master of anything in any dimension, it is DENIAL-)

I think weirdmaggedon might still happen and there will be this whole rift thing and stuff- it’s still relatively similar. Maybe a different ending? Or another deal? Who knows. But this was just a silly thought I had- I can only imagine the names if I decide to invest time into it.

Magic 8 Bill AU? Or something? I might make some art for it if I’m being completely honest- Just a funny thought yk?

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

Yeah, the whole "ask the autistic kid a pointed question to get a funny answer with which to demean them" thing was a real motif for me too, back when I was growing up. Actually, I think it's part of a wider trend with bullies. They're not clever, but they possess the low, animal cunning of rat, or maybe a ferret. They'll find the thing that seems trivial to the authority figures in your life but which matters SO SO MUCH to you, and that's what they'll use to get at you. I do think being the kid on the receiving end of that has one thing to be said for it: it gives you a really good sense of what humans are. I went through a lot of bullying - most of it baiting me to see how long it would take me to blow my top and go beserk, but quite a bit of physical abuse, too. I don't consider myself traumatised as per the original post, but I think I have a very fucking clear idea of what the human animal is when you peel off its mask of civility and sophistication. When people see you as a victim- as someone who can't defend themselves- they get very comfortable showing you who they really are. And more often than not, who they really are is a mean-spirited scumbag with the IQ of pond-slime. The good news? They're mean-spirited scumbags with the IQ of pond-slime, so sooner or later your life is going to be much richer, more interesting and more fulfilling than theirs, just because you're capable of joys and sorrows and passions that their invertebrate minds could never aspire to. Consider this the inspirational part of the blog post: you will love more fully than they will. You will live with less compromise. You will not be defined, as they are, by the miserable cycle of work, consumption and recouperation that capitalism has made of human existence, because you will have a developed and complex inner life denied to those insensitive blocks who seek to torment you. And, because you have seen what humans are really like, you will have an easier time identifying the people who aren't like that. One day, you will find your tribe in a way that they cannot, and belive me: you are mighty with your tribe. Yes, while you're going through bullying, it feels like they're predators and you're prey, but here's the thing: being predators is all they have. It's the only thing in their pointless, empty little lives and if they ever experience happiness, it's only because they're too dumb to realise how miserable they ought to be.

Now for the less inspirational bit. Yes, things do get better, but you've still got to get through the bullshit first. My advice? I don't have any, but I know what worked for me: violence. I think a lot of the reason I'm not wholly traumatised by my childhood and why I'm so much less bitter than I might otherwise be is that I defended myself in the most literal and primal sense at the time. That counts for more than we're willing to admit to in this neutred fucking age. Not every time (I was smart enough, even then, to realise that getting a reputation as a violent person could be a serious problem), but often enough that I can look back fondly on those rare, wonderful occasions when I just stopped taking it and lamped a cunt with the nearest blunt object instead. I can look myself in the eye (well, if there's a mirror handy, anyway) and say "I gave as good as I got and acquitted myself well". Doesn't do jack-shit in the short-term, because bullies are usually too fucking dumb to fear physical reprisal, but years later it helps keep the wolf from the door. I know that violence can backfire. I know that it can get folk institutionalised and that I was, in some ways, very lucky to grow up with a family who understood its uses and value on some level. I know that it can lead to escalation. But I also know that I've never regretted throwing a punch at someone who earned it and do regretted quite a few missed opportunities to throw one.

So yeah. Take that or leave it.

the thing that always gets me ESPECIALLY about autistic representation in media is that we are universally portrayed as happy-go-lucky, whimsical children, completely oblivious to the fact that the world constantly judges and scorns and HATES us.

We notice. I noticed. The reason I am as messed up as I am today is because i spent 20 LONG years in an environment where every day i was subjected to that. To noticing.

what an absolutely neurotypical view of us. Coddling themselves, getting to act like the way they treat us is fine because we don't understand that our peers dont respect us. Why would we? We're so subhuman to them, it's like asking if your cat notices you playfully insulting it.

Every autistic person I've ever met is on some level bitter and angry and TRAUMATIZED at their upbringing. Of having to go through school as the laughing stock, as the weirdo with no friends who no one wants to talk to, as the animal in the corner you can make do cheap tricks so they can experience some Simulacra of what genuine human connection is.

Now tell me, does it sound like I didn't notice?

[matchpointfaist]

riff x teacher!reader. Maybe they have known each other since they were kids, secretly in love with each other. She's very kind and patient, and maybe the only one Riff can ever be vulnerable with. love your writingg 💖💖

this is such a cute concept omg!! you ate.

riff lorton x teacher! reader for anon xx

you met riff lorton when you were just a kid, bounding through life with naive, shiny bright hope that everyone would want to be your friend. riff, on the other hand, had lost that hope, not that he ever had it to begin with. he was short, rude, aloof, and cold, ever the opposite to your warm, sunny personality.

you knew you could push through, though, if you just kept trying. so every day, for weeks, you brought him part of your lunch, paired with a hopeful little smile. and every day, he took the lunch, turned his nose up at you, and walked away to eat in privacy. it took three entire months for him to spare you so much as a conversation.

"you don't have to keep doin' this. you know that? i can get my own lunch," he said, glaring over at you despite holding the sandwich your mom had packed so neatly. "i know," you just shrugged, "i just wanted to be nice, that's all,"

he relaxed then, just slightly, unpacking the sandwich and slowly eating sitting right beside you, glancing all around at passing cars and the breeze blown trees. you just pulled out your book, content to sit in silence, thumbing through the pages as you sat.

"what's that?" he asked, gesturing to the paperback. "oh, it's pride and prejudice by jane austen," you smiled, holding it up, "d'you wanna borrow it?" he shook his head quickly, an odd sort of look passing over his face, "no, i was just askin',"

"i can read it out loud, if you wanted," you offered, hopeful smile returning, "it's a very good story," he shrugged, looking away, and you just went ahead and accepted that as invitation.

your little lunch dates turned into daily occurrences, riff eating the extra sandwich and carrots your mom had started packing, and you reading him page after page of your favorite novels. you'd offer, occasionally, to let him take them home, to finish them. but he'd always made that same face, a distant, indifferent expression in his eyes.

"are you sure you don't wanna borrow it?" you'd practically pouted, knowing how invested he'd gotten. he shook his head, his face slightly flushed, "look, i can't read, okay? my ma can't afford to send me to the school and i ain't smart enough to learn it myself,"

you'd gone home that night and sobbed to your own parents, crying for this poor, pitiful boy who'd been deprived of your greatest pleasure in life. then, you'd set out on a mission. you would teach riff lorton to read, right there in the schoolyard, if it was the last thing you did.

he downplayed it, when it was all said and done, but he'd never be able to tell you how much that really meant to him. you were the one person in his life that actually cared, especially enough to take such time and energy out of your day to repeatedly go over the same letters with him, never wavering, never getting frustrated. you never showed him anything but love.

years passed, and the two of you grew up together. schoolyard reading turned to riff disappearing for days at a time, finally returning with some bruises or a split lip, but never an explanation. you eventually found out, when your parents forbid you to go near him, that he was a part of the jets. not just a part of them, but the leader.

you'd cried, once again, for that broken boy who never got a fighting chance. for days, you'd wondered why he didn't tell you, why he didn't just ask you for help, or at least let you know he was in some sort of danger.

but that wasn't riff's way. he never wanted you to worry, or worse, to look down on him for the sort of people he surrounded himself with. so kept his mouth shut, all until the day you confronted him. he'd been gone for days, not bothering to stop by, and your worry had worn thin, morphing into anger.

"where the hell have you been?" you asked, hand on your hip, glaring at him like you were any sort of intimidating. "i'm sorry, i've just been busy," he waved you off, like he always did when it came to admitting his faults. "yeah, busy with your gang," you mumbled, shaking your head.

"what?" it came out sharper than he intended, voice coated in confusion. he'd worked so hard to keep you away from that, how could you have known? "my parents told me," you finally admitted, unable to meet his eyes, "riff, how could you?"

"this doesn't have nothin' to do with you, girly," he said quickly, "alright? it's my life and my business, and i'm doing my damn best to keep you out of it, so don't go puttin' your nose where it don't belong, y'hear me?"

"you are my business!" you snapped, throwing your hands up, "you're my best friend! how could you be so stupid, riff? you're putting your life in danger, and for what? for some street cred? over some stupid turf war for land that isn't even yours?"

"for my family!" he knew as soon as it came out, he'd raised his voice too much, gotten far too angry with you, but he couldn't stop, "this is all i got left, the jets, my boys! my parents are dead, i ain't got nothin' else to live for, alright? this is it, so don't you dare try and take that away from me,"

tears were slipping down your cheeks, and he wanted nothing more than to apologize, to tell you he never meant to yell and that you were his best friend, too, his only friend really. he ached to tell you the truth of it all; that he'd fallen in love with you sometime during all those afternoons you spent reading to him, and he was terrified at the thought of you getting anywhere near the life he'd made for himself.

"i hoped you'd at least say i'm something to live for," your voice was quiet, hurt, "maybe we just need some space for a while, alright? i shouldn't have lashed out, but i can't process this right now. i'm sorry, riff, i gotta go,"

you were gone before he could argue, and he knew better than to chase you. to chase you would be to give in, to agree to let you in to this mess, and he just couldn't do that, to you or to himself. so he let you leave, stood there for a moment just absorbing it, and went on home, whatever that even meant anymore.

you didn't get a proper chance to apologize after that. three days later, riff had been locked up in the state prison for assault during some gang fight, adding to the laundry list of reasons you'd ever had to cry for him. this beautiful boy that had no choice in how his life turned out, constantly chasing the legacy of a man who had long since died, and was never worth anything when he was alive. you moved on with your life eventually, graduating from college and going to teach at the very same school where you'd first met riff.

five years later, he came home. he didn't know where to find you anymore, not after your parents had moved off out of the city and you'd surely gotten a home of your own. he wasn't sure where you worked, or if you'd gotten married, or if you'd even want to see him. he spent days asking around, until he finally found out the teaching job you'd taken.

it made so much sense for you. he couldn't stop replaying the memories of you taking such doting care with him, teaching him something as basic as literacy like it wasn't something he needed to be ashamed of. he worked up the nerve, cleaning himself up as best he could, putting on his cleanest shirt and pants, picking some half dead flowers from the road and waiting outside the schoolhouse for you.

at the dismissal bell, you exited in a flood of students, all smiles and laughing and nurturing words to the kids as you walked them to their parents cars or to buses. good fucking god, you were beautiful. he nearly turned around and ran right then, too scared of what you'd think of him, too scared to know if you ever forgave him for that argument. he wondered how much you knew about what had happened, if you thought he was just another hardened criminal by now.

before he knew it, all the kids were gone, and you were walking towards you car. it was now or never, he guessed, and he'd never prided himself on being a coward. he called your name, jogging over, hoping he came across hopeful and not deranged, "girly, hey, hold on a second,"

"riff?" your voice was a jolt, straight to his chest, nearly diminishing all of his resolve from one syllable, "oh my god!" any fear he had that you were angry was gone the second you touched him, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him to you, crying into his shirt like he'd come home from war and not prison, like he'd never hurt you.

"it's me," he choked out, petting the back of your hair helplessly, "you're okay, i'm fine," he murmured, suddenly embarrassed at his lack of grand gesture. "i was so worried about you," you sniffled, wiping your eyes, "you have no idea, i tried to come see you and they wouldn't since i'm not family and i was trying to find a way, i promise,"

"darlin, calm down," he smiled softly, wiping your cheeks gently, "i'm fine, alright? that's real sweet of you to try and come see me-" he stopped as you kissed him, all frantic in your movements, clinging to him still. he was frozen in place, kissing you back on instinct alone, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. "i've wanted to do that since we were kids," you whispered as you pulled away, "missed you so much, riff. i'm so sorry for the way i spoke to you that day, i never should've overstepped like that,"

"you weren't oversteppin," his voice was thick, strange to his own ears, "i got outta all that shit, before i came and found you. i'm on the straight and narrow, all cookie cutter for you, doll," "for me?" you repeated, eyes wide like it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to you, "oh, riff,"

and then you were kissing him again, like he'd disappear if you stopped, your hands on his shoulders as you stood on your tip toes, in front of all the other staff leaving like he was more than just some boy off the streets, like he was really worth somethin, same as all those years ago.

when you pulled away, he rested his forehead on yours, smiling like a madman, "thought about you every night in that jailhouse, sunshine, you're the only thing that brought me home. y'know that? told myself if i got outta there and you'd have me, i'd be a good man for you. make you my wife one day,"

"maybe we'll start with you bein my boyfriend," you grinned, cheeks all rosy and shining, "thought about you all the time, too. never stopped missin' you,"

minutes later, he was scrunched up in the passenger seat of your volkswagen bug, listening as you rambled on about how you just adored teaching, and how all the little boys reminded you of him when he was that age, all shiny and impressionable. you took him back to your apartment, promising that he could stay there as long as he wanted, practically begging him to never leave again.

that night, the two of you lay entwined across your bed, the words of pride and prejudice filling the silence as he read to you until you fell asleep.