#this is also like the second post I made about this

[eicsferrari]

never met - op81 smau

summary: people start making up rumors about oscar and yn. problem is they never actually met

face claim: random girls from pinterest

a/n: this is chaos but it was fun to write hope you like it

masterlist

જ ♡ જ

gossipf1 singer yn and oscar piastri are reported to be dating according to inside sources

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user5 please let this be true

lando rue, when did this happen?

user14 helppp what is lando doing here

user3 my two worlds colliding

user7 she's not good enough for him

user8 ?? he's not good enough for her

yn inside sources who??? i never saw this man in my life😭😭

user10 he's a formula 1 driver

yn oh i only know lewis hamilton aka the goat aka the loml

user10 fair

yn he looks cute tho👀

sabrinacarpenter no yn!

yn 😊😊

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yn posted a story

caption: this is the man yall think i pulled? Damn thank u

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↪sabrinacarpenter you are insane😭

↪lando +61 12345678 text him

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yn jazzy nights are my favorite

♡liked by sabrinacarpenter, oscarpiastri and others

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user6 best night of my life

sabrinacarpenter i'm in love with you😍

yn me when i see you

user1 oscar liked...

user4 don't start

user1 i just stated a fact

user9 obsessed with your voice, i want you to sing me to sleep every night

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gossipf1 yn and oscar spotted hanging out after her concert

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user8 i fear this couple would be too iconic

user4 just... no

user5 i dont know this man my ass

yn in my defense i really haven't met him then!

lando it's true i can confirm

lando i can also confirm yn was oscar's most listened artist last year

oscarpiastri why are you here?

lando gossip is my bat signal

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yn trip made it out of the groupchat

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lando groupchat and it's only two people

yn get off my comments

lando i got you his number and this is how you repay me?

user9 lando tell us who it is🙏🏼

user3 if lando set them up it has to be oscar

user7 i'm in love with her aesthetic

user5 white shirt=oscar

user14 stop we don't know

sabrinacarpenter did my invite get lost in the mail?🤨

yn babe i'm sorry he means nothing you are the love of my life

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oscarpiastri posted a story

caption good company yn

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↪user4 gossipf1 ended up setting you two up huh

↪sabrinacarpenter i remember when i was the one taking her pictures...💔

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yn sorry osc i go where lewis goes🏎️

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oscarpiastri 😐

user4 osc��🥺

scuderiaferrari everyone is a ferrari fan ♡liked by author

francocolapinto hamilton fan first, a girlfriend second. i respect that

user5 did he just confirm that they are girlfriend and boyfriend?

mclaren 💔

yn sorry😔

charles_leclerc i approve son oscarpiastri

yn forza ferrari!

user26 we lost her to a sports guy...

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oscarpiastri posted a story

caption prettiest girl is in fact my girlfriend

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↪yn giggling blushing throwing up kicking my feet🥺🫶🏼

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yn posted a story

caption he's still mad i did not wear orange

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↪lando it's papaya not orange😡

yn same fucking thing

lando it's not !!

yn ok but the word papaya is so ugly

lando YOU TAKE THAT BACK

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yn the rumors are now true, i'm his favorite artist and he's my (second) favorite driver

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user18 she's gorgeous😍 he's just there😐

francocolapinto yes yes you might kiss but did he ever say he wanted to learn your language just to understand your jokes? i don't think so

yn call me when you are his top artist on spotify loser

user12 don't mind me i'm just patiently waiting for the love songs this will inspire

oscarpiastri you are never going to let me live this down, right?

yn you are stuck with me and my bad jokes sorry bro

sabrinacarpenter just remember she was mine first papaya boy

oscarpiastri noted🫡

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oscarpiastri she finally wore papaya

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user2 she's so hot🥵

yn not that word again😭

lando i will block you if you keep hating on the papaya

yn do it i dare you

yn i look so good tho

oscarpiastri you always look amazing

yn i love me a boy who can sweet talk

lando god stop being cheesy on main🤢

yn weren't you going to block me??

lando i should have

yn just do it you coward

user23 yes yn put the car guy in his place!

lando why are you supporting her when your page is dedicated to me??? are you a fan or a hater?

user23 i'm your biggest fan! but i support women's rights and women's wrongs so i'm with yn

yn HA even your fans like me better😛

lando you stole my teammate and now my fans what else do you want from me😭😭

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lando posted a story

caption disgusting

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↪yn disgustingly cute yes

lando whatever helps you sleep at night

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oscarpiastri posted a story

caption dont let their online banter fool you, they are friends

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↪yn babe don't expose us like that😔

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oscarpiastri 🧡

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yn DELETE what if lewis sees this?

user21 she's so real

lewishamilton i feel betrayed

yn nooo💔😔 you will always be n1 in my heart

oscarpiastri 😐

yn deal with it

yn i am so incredibly proud of you and i love supporting you🥺🧡

oscarpiastri thank you for being here<3

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yn posted a story

caption i'm going to tell my kids this is their dad

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yn posted a story

caption just kidding, i love you oscar

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↪ oscarpiastri i love you more❤️

[xx-emowarz-xx]

Yeah obviously.

But also I have a couple of things to add. You probably didn't mean it this way but I want to make sure we're not putting black employees and punk employees into two separate boxes with no overlap because black people have made a lot of really important contributions to goth punk and emo subcultures which often gets erased. This post is as much about weird black people's right to get body mods as it is about white people's.

The second thing I want to say is that the idea of "professionalism" is based on restrictive conservative WASP cultural norms. This post was made through the lense of emo stuff because I'm moving though the world as a white scene trans person and my own job search is difficult right now and it occured to me that the reason you don't see a lot of older goths is because they probably experienced what I'm experiencing right now and decided to pack it in, and I made it on my sideblog where I post about bands. The post has an angle it's not a generalized statement about workplace discrimination. That being said the reason that people who look like I do get told to clean their act up before they can get hired is because of cultural norms rooted in racism. Tattoos were unacceptable in professional culture before there was punk music, and a lot of indigenous cultures use tattoos in their cultural traditions. Piercings were unacceptable in professional culture before there was punk music, and a lot of African and South Asian cultures have facial piercings normalized or expected in their cultural wear (I don't know the significance I just know I've never met a Punjabi woman without a nose ring). I don't really think I need to get into hair, but saying no weird hair (read no hair unacceptable to the wasp monocultures, be it because it's actually weird or just from a different culture) is one of the primary work arounds racists use to deny jobs opportunities to black people now that racial discrimination is technically on the books illegal. Obviously people with Ta Moko and dreads are gonna suffer under these sorts of workplace dress codes than a white guy with a throat tattoo and pink hair. That said neither of those people are getting hired at a workplace that demands a tattoo free body and a professional haircut and both of them deserve to be able to pay for food and shelter without having to change the way they look to please the sensibilities of the white cisheteropatriarchy and they should probably (hint to white punks here to maybe work a bit harder at being allies to poc) band together to demand bodily autonomy and an end to restrictive work place policies rooted in white cisheteropatriarchy.

People don't actually grow out of their emo phases. People are forced out of their emo phases by employers who get a raging boner over controlling how their employees dress, cut their hair, whether they mod their bodies and so on

[jherbogf]

2 you

summary y/n has been in a complicated relationship with joe burrow for months. as he grows more distant and conflicted, she’s forced to confront her feelings and the uncertainty of their connection.

pairing joe burrow x fem!reader

words around 6.7k

inspired by 2 you, mariah the scientist

you had always been a woman of focus. your days were a blur of work. late nights and early mornings. it wasn’t glamorous, but you loved it. having your own money, your own freedom.

you could say one of your favorite things to do was going out with your girlfriends. sometimes, in the highest cincinnati spots. spots those who obviously were packed with players from the city’s most famous team: the cincinnati bengals.

in one of those night outs, your eyes crossed icy blue ones, which naturally, made your world turn differently.

joe burrow had that effect on people—his eyes, calm yet intense, always made her second guess her emotions. he wasn’t the kind of guy who wore his feelings on his sleeve. his smile, reserved for those who really knew him, often made her feel like she was still trying to figure him out. and for a while, you didn’t mind.

but over time, something shifted.

you first saw it after the bengals’ rough stretch of games. they were struggling—0-4 at the start of the season. and it weighed heavily on joe. at first, you made excuses for him. “he’s under a lot of pressure” you told yourself. “he’s focused on the game”. but as the weeks went on, it wasn’t just the stress of the game; it was something else. he started becoming more distant, not in the physical sense, but emotionally.

you noticed it during one of your quiet dinners. you had tried to start a conversation, something that used to come so naturally. but now, his answers were short, distracted, as if his mind was somewhere else. “maybe he’s tired”, so you thought.

you noticed the tension grew in small moments, too. the texts that went unanswered for hours. the way he avoided eye contact when you asked about his day. you didn’t push him for answers, but you also couldn’t ignore it. and still, you told yourself: “it’s just the season, he’s got a lot on his plate. he’ll come around”.

but it wasn’t just the season. and you knew it, deep down.

one evening, after another loss, you waited for joe at his place, like you constantly did.

the door opened, and he didn’t even look at you. he simply passed by, heading straight to the couch, still in his post-game conference clothes. you stood there for a moment, feeling the weight of the distance between you, the invisible wall that had been built over the past few weeks.

“how are you?” you asked. trying to be as careful as possible.

he didn’t answer at first, eyes glued to the TV as highlights from the game played. so you tried again, desperate for some closure. “joe?”

he looked up at you then. gaze distant, as though he wasn’t really seeing you. like you weren’t even there. “i’m fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “i just want to forget about it.”

you couldn’t stop herself. you desperate for closure, for something. “this season’s been pretty tough. i’m sorry”.

“yeah,” he replied, tone flat. he glanced at you, for a split second. barely acknowledging you. barely acknowledging your countless tries to get him to just talk to you.

you understood him. how could you not? but it was like he didn’t see you. didn’t see you trying to just help.

it stung, more than you cared to admit. you had been there for him through the losses, his recovery, the endless scrutiny. but now, you felt like you were being shut out.

you wondered if this what it always felt like, doubting your own self. you had to ask yourself whether you were being too much. if you were clinging to him, forcing something when he just wanted to be alone. but, were you? it for sure didn’t feel like you were. you couldn’t help but feel like you were always the one trying to break through, but he never let you in.

so, later that night, after the game was over and the house was silent, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. the uncertainty was eating away at you. “what is happening? you thought. joe had pulled back in a way that made you feel like you were chasing after something you could never quite reach.

and a few days later, as if on cue, it happened again.

you were sitting close to the sidelines at the bengals’ practice, waiting for joe to finish up. the tension in the air was thick—joe wasn’t just focused on the game, but on something else. as the team broke up, you waited for him in the same place, alongside mike gesicki’s and trey hendrickson’s wives, trying to catch his attention. he glanced at you, going back into the facility, probably to get washed up.

but you weren’t focusing on what he’d go after he went back there. you were focusing on how he he didn’t smile. didn’t forge any reaction at you. just one glance. and you could feel your heart slowly cracking, day by day.

you let it go, trying to enjoy the girls’ company until the players were out again. it worked, for about the 45 minutes time in between being happy, talking to them, and then feeling ashamed and like you didn’t belong in joe’s side, approaching his car in the parking lot.

“how’s the wrist?” you asked, trying to sound casual, but still with an edge of concern in your voice.

he shrugged, serious, emotionless. “it’s fine. just sore. nothing I can’t handle.”

“three empty phrases.” you thought. it was the same answer he’d given you every time, and every time it hurt more. he was shutting you out—shutting you out, just like he had done with everything else in his life. so you sighed, helpless and tired.

“i don’t know what’s going on with you,” you said, voice a little sharper than you had intended, moved by her feelings. “but i’ve been trying to be here for you, joe. don’t you get that?”— his eyes snapped to yours, hard and unyielding. it was the most emotion he had given you in months.

“i don’t need you to ‘be here for me,’ y/n,” he replied, his tone cutting. “i’m not your charity case. you’ve got your life. i’ve got mine. that’s it. don’t mix it up.”

you froze. the words stung like a slap. you felt the air leave your lungs. you didn’t know what was worse—the fact that he was pushing you away, or that he didn’t see how much you cared. you took a step back, heart pounding.

“maybe I’ve been too much,” you said, more to yourself than him. your voice trembled, but you didn’t let him see the hurt. you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. “maybe I’ve asked for too much. but don’t you dare act like I’m not trying.” you told him, firmer.

joe didn’t respond. his face softened for a moment, but the distance between you only grew.

you knew that you were at a breaking point.

you had tried for so long to make things work, to be there for him, but it wasn’t enough. not when he couldn’t open up, not when he kept you at arm’s length. and you knew.

it didn’t surprise you that a few days later, after another devastating loss, joe was quiet. you sat beside him on the couch, your heart heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid.

you needed to talk. you couldn’t just keep pretending.

“joe, we need to talk,” you said, voice gentle but firm. you were rightly putting yourself first this time. listening to yourself.

he didn’t even look at you. “i don’t feel like talking right now,” he muttered.

and your heart sank. “it’s always like this”, you thought. you had always been the one to initiate, the one to ask the hard questions. But he never answered. he never listened. he never gave you the time. he never even asked.

“you can’t just keep shutting me out,” you said, either way. “i’m not asking for much. but I need more than this. I need more than your silence. I need more than pretending everything’s fine.”

you knew. you knew you deserved more. you knew.

joe’s eyes finally met yours then, and there was something… cold in them. “you’re too much, y/n. always asking questions, always demanding more. I don’t have time for this. I don’t need someone breathing down my neck all the time.”

you couldn’t react. you were looking at the ground, blinking, eyes wide, mouth shut. it hit you like a tidal wave. you could hear your heart clinking. but it didn’t break like you thought you would. it was like someone had hit their nail on it, just to hear if it would make a sound.

you sat there for a moment, stunned. thinking, remembering all the times he shut you out. all the times he told you he didn’t need her concern. all the times he didn’t give even an ounce of the love you gave him back to you.

so you stood up. and you walked away. you weren’t sure what you were doing anymore, but you knew one thing for certain—you couldn’t keep being the one who tried to fix what was broken. you couldn’t be the one covered in dirt, couldn’t be the one whose heart clenched when a kid cudi song played.

you weren’t sure where things had gone wrong, but you knew you couldn’t keep pouring yourself into a relationship that drained you. the grief she felt, after her shock passed, wasn’t for joe and “what could’ve been”, but for herself. who almost lost her spark. who almost lost her own self, trying to fix him.

he was lost. he was unfocused. you were sure he hoped you wouldn’t notice, but you did. after all those times, you did. so you layed it in a grave. and you left.

left his apartment, physically, but his mess, emotionally. you didn’t know if he had called you, cause you weren’t really listening.

and as you drove away, you didn’t look back. focusing only on what was in front of you, reserved for you. not him.

[vettelsvee]

letting oscar take your virginity to celebrate his win

(if this makes you uncomfortable please to deny or only write fluffy before/after!) love ur work sm

V CARDS GOODBYES | Oscar Piastri

Oscar Piastri x Girlfriend!Reader

SUMMARY: Oscar arrives home after winning his first ever Formula 1 race, so you think it’s the perfect time for you to celebrate and, also, to say goodbye to your v card ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Hope you like it anon! And sorry it's taken me almost a year I'm a mess 😭

WORD COUNT: 3958

WARNINGS: Smut (virginity loss, female receiving oral sex, fingering, p in v, protected sex, little bit of praising kink), curse words

VEE'S NOTES: Came to the conclusion after the latests Oscar fics I’ve posted that he's the most popular driver on my Tumblr page, so this is for all my Osc people out there! I'm always ashamed of posting smut (but still want to keep writing it) so I hope this is good enough for you to enjoy! Remember that your comments and reblogs are truly appreciated! Thanks for reading <3 (Also, thoughts on the new layout?) ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | TALK TO ME! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

The door of the apartment you shared in Monaco opened, and before Oscar could step inside, he heard excited screams that made it clear someone was more than happy about his arrival.  

Not only did your cat start rubbing against his leg while purring, but also you, his girlfriend, were hopping towards him, barefoot and wrapped in one of his McLaren hoodies, which turned out to be even bigger on you than you had expected when you decided it would be a great idea to steal it from your boyfriend.  

"You did it, Osc!” you squealed as you threw your arms around his neck. "Osc, oh my God, you won a race! Do you know what that means?"  

Oscar felt his cheeks turn red. Of course, he knew exactly what winning a Grand Prix meant, especially during his second season in Formula 1. However, all he did was shrug, as if his achievement wasn’t that important.  

"Yeah," was all he could say.  

"I’m so, so proud of you," you said in a trembling voice, standing on your tiptoes to cup his face in your hands.  

"I couldn’t have done it without you, even though you were here," Oscar replied sincerely, a hint of regret in his tone. If there was one thing he regretted, it was that you hadn’t been there with him throughout the whole process of stepping onto the podium.  

"I know you would have liked me to be there, and I would’ve loved that too," you replied, making a sad but funny face. "But it’s okay! I screamed at the TV a lot, so I guess I helped in some way… And I’m sure you’ll win more races and I’ll be there to see them all, so it’s not the end of the world!"

Oscar chuckled and pulled you close until there was no space between you. He allowed himself a few moments to hold onto you, gently running his fingers through your hair while you clung tightly to his shirt, pressing your face into his chest as if he might disappear at any second.  

"Hey… I have something for you."

Even though you whispered it, Oscar heard you perfectly. You bit your lip,. a telltale sign of nervousness he knew well, as you pulled away from him. Then, you quickly headed towards the living room, with the Australian following you, and grabbed a small book he had never seen before.  

Carefully, as if it were fragile, you handed it to your boyfriend.  

"Open it… I hope you like it!"

Oscar did as you asked. Gently, he opened what he soon realized was a photo album. It wasn’t just a collection of pictures of you from the past two years since you started dating. It was beautifully decorated. There were messages, and even reflections from your perspective about each memory you had built together.  

"I know it’s not a big deal, but since I was so bored with studying, I have to admit I procrastinated a bit and felt like doing some crafts, so… well, this was the result," you said hesitantly, as if you were confessing a crime, though a small smile crept onto your lips. "Maybe you were expecting something else, I don’t know, but I hope you like it. You could even take it with you whenever you have to travel, so you remember me and also add something else if you feel in the mood," you added softly.  

Oscar felt a lump in his throat, unsure of what to say. Although he was used to you being thoughtful, and he always tried to reciprocate, you somehow kept outdoing yourself.  

"Y/N, this is…" he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. More accurately, he didn’t know how to express them. "It’s incredible. Thank you so much."

You smiled and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips, which, as you both expected, quickly turned into something more desperate, fueled by your hunger for each other.  

Oscar’s hands found your waist beneath the hoodie, his fingers tracing invisible lines along your skin, moving up and down, even toying with the clasp of your bra. The only thing you could do was keep kissing him, tugging at his hair lightly and pressing yourself against his thigh, seeking friction to ease the growing ache within you.  

Then, you suddenly pulled away, more abruptly than Oscar had expected. Your pupils were completely dilated, your lips swollen, and your hair a complete mess.  

"Oscar…" 

"Y/N…"

"I want to do it."

Your voice was barely a whisper. Oscar’s eyes widened, surprised because, even though he perfectly understood what you meant, hearing you say it out loud was an entirely different feeling.  

"Bebe…" 

"I really, really want to do it, Osc," you repeated, more as a confirmation to yourself than to him. "Yesterday, you lost your v-card in Formula 1 with your victory, so… I was thinking maybe I could lose mine too."  

Oscar had known from the very beginning of your relationship that you had never been physically involved with anyone beyond a couple of kisses and teasing. At first, you had been insecure about telling him, worried about feeling ashamed, but Oscar had always made sure you felt safe and comfortable, promising you would only take steps forward when you were truly ready.  

Today, your words made clear that you finally felt like that moment arrived, and that filled Oscar with happiness not because you were about to have sex, but because it meant you were finally comfortable enough with yourself to take that step.  

"Are you… sure?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. "You know we don’t have to rush anything… I don’t want you to feel like we have to do this just because, you know…" 

"I know, Osc, and I promise I wouldn’t be bringing this up if I weren’t sure," you reassured him, looking into his eyes as you ran your fingers over his hands. "I love you, and most importantly, I trust you. I’ve thought about this for a long time, and well… yeah."

"It’s just… I don’t want to mess anything up, Y/N. This is really important, and it should be perfect,” he confessed with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.  

You smiled, cupping his face and bringing him closer for a kiss.  

"It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s with you, Osc.”

"Okay, but… if you change your mind at any point, you tell me," Oscar insisted. You laughed, rolling your eyes.  

"I promise, really."

Your lips met again, but this time much slower. Oscar took his time kissing you carefully, wanting to do everything right. He cradled your cheek with one hand to deepen the kiss, while the other wrapped around your back, guiding you gently toward the bedroom you shared.  

Once inside, he forced himself to stop and take a deep breath to avoid panicking, even though there was no reason to.  

You stood in front of him, looking at him with a mix of shyness and adoration that reminded him of your early days, when you just used to go out for coffee or to the movies back in high school.  

Oscar couldn’t help but look at you with an equally shy, yet utterly endearing, expression.  

"Tell me if you want me to stop, alright?"

"I will, yeah."  

You didn’t need to say anything else since kissing spoke for you. You took your time, enough for Oscar to make sure you felt completely comfortable, enough for you to overthink just a little more before deciding if you really wanted to continue…  

*"I love you, Oscar…" you murmured between kisses. You tugged at his shirt, helping him pull it off, running your hands over his bare chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.  

"I love you too, Y/N…" 

With nerves and hands shakier than he would have liked, almost as if he were the inexperienced one, he took hold of the hem of your hoodie and slowly lifted it over your head, leaving you in just your underwear.  

Oscar was surprised to see you in black lace lingerie instead of the usual shorts you wore around the house. He was about to say something, but you didn’t give him the chance. You closed the distance between you, pressing your foreheads together before kissing him once again.  

Neither knew how long you were like this, but you both agreed that it had been long enough to discover that you needed more of each other.

Oscar ended up forcing himself to pull away from you and take a breath. A smile curved between his lips, which caused you, somewhat nervously, to giggle at the situation and hug him around the waist, pulling him closer to you while trying not to shove him away.

“Really, we don't have to do it if you don't want to, Y/N,” the McLaren driver insisted once again.

“I've been looking forward to doing this for a long time, and I've been mentally preparing for it for a while,” she told him, trying not to sound uneasy. “I trust you, Osc, and there's nothing for you to worry about.”

“So...?”

“I want you to make me yours, Oscar. Today, tomorrow or whenever and wherever you want,” you whispered in his ear as sensually as you could.

“Y/N…”

“Oscar: I just want you to fuck me.”

You felt your boyfriend tense up after those words that had caught even you off guard. Instinctively, you brought your hand to the noticeable bulge under Oscar's pants, but when you tried to reach for the button to unbutton them, he pushed your hands away lovingly.

“No, honey, none of that for now. Today is your day, so let me do the work and just enjoy yourself.”

Oscar, without another word, took you by the chin and kissed you again for the umpteenth time that day. Now, your lips moved at a slower speed. You guessed it was because you noticed how one of Oscar's hands began to massage one of your breasts, giving special attention to the nipple. With the other, he lightly brushed your pussy, making you gasp when he decided to play with your clit.

“Do you like it, babe?” he asked in a tone of voice that showed too much excitement.

His fingers now delved a little deeper into your intimacy, those enveloping movements becoming a little faster.

“Yes, Osc...” you barely managed to answer.

That answer was enough for the Australian to stop immediately. You didn't even look him in the face. Oscar pulled away from you, leaving a quick kiss on your lips and starting a trail of kisses all over your body, stopping once he reached your lower stomach area.

“Y/N…”

His hands stood delicately on your thighs, which he was now kissing, closer and closer to your pussy. Your hair stood on end. Your breath was completely held, unable to breathe in case that put an end to it all, as if that would be enough for Oscar to finish whatever he was doing with you. 

“If anything we do tonight makes you uncomfortable and you want to stop, just tell me please,” the Australian declared. “And, before your little head starts thinking nonsense: no, I'm not going to get mad at you because you don't want to have sex, okay? If you don't want to…”

“Oscar, look at me,” you cut him off, and the boy immediately listened to you: “it's you, and I'm not going to feel uncomfortable with you and with anything you do to me.”

“Do you promise me, love?”

“I swear.”

Oscar nodded, grabbing your thighs again and dragging you to the edge of the bed so that his face was in front of your pussy, perfectly aligned with your entrance.

Without warning, he slid his tongue, flat, all over it with a slowness that was completely unbearable and that seemed that, rather than pleasing you, he wanted to kill you little by little. His movements were frantic; constant changes of speed, from faster to slower, and vice versa, that made his nose rub against your clit while his tongue seemed to do wonders with that dance.

When Oscar's tongue began to explore inside you, and his index finger, the one he used to show on camera every time he got a first position just like Sebastian Vettel did in his golden age, started a tortuous tour of your labia majora, you curled up shyly but instinctively. Your hands ended up tangled in his hair, forcing him closer to you at the same time your hips did the same.

“I think you're liking it, aren't you my little girl?” Piastri said, ending his oral contact with you and replacing it with his finger. His gaze was fixed on her, and you thought about why he hadn't done this to you before.

“Don't stop, Osc. For the sake of God, don't even think about stopping...” you gasped, becoming increasingly unable to articulate a word.

He didn't have to say anything else. After those words, Oscar slipped a second finger inside you. You let out a small gasp of surprise and he, without taking his eyes off you, laughed, your cheeks turning red almost instantly. Despite this, he kissed your thighs as he continued the back and forth with his index finger, adding his heart almost soon after while increasing even more the speed.

You felt that everything was going too fast, and the waves of pleasure that were flooding you were making you lose, more and more, the notion of time. You didn't know at what point, but when he decided to add his tongue back into the equation, without leaving the movements of his fingers inside you going straight to that spot that gave you the most pleasure, a strange sensation gripped the lower part of your stomach.

It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back your orgasm. You felt how your eyes were closing little by little, and your leg, too, to which Oscar put a little pressure on them to prevent them from closing.

“Come for me, love,” Oscar let you know. “Come on, Y/N, you've got it babe. Come on…”

And so you did.

Your back curved in such a way that your body, completely sweaty, could hardly keep on writhing as it was doing. You were moaning like you had never moaned before, and your boyfriend seemed to notice. A smirk of satisfaction and success began to break from his lips as he licked at your fluids, his mouth moving slowly now, over-stimulating your clit and making you incessantly.

The Australian rose and carefully positioned himself on top of you.

“I love you, Y/N, you don't know how much,” he said between kisses, making you taste yourself for the first time, but hopefully not the last one. “You are the most beautiful girl in the world... And the best girl in the world. Don't ever doubt it.”

“Oscar, don't…”

“Yes you are, Y/N, and I will not allow you to speak so negatively about yourself.”

After those last words, the driver pulled away from you slightly, trying yo give you some time to recover. Then, you looked at him taking what seemed to be a condom from the bedside table, which he carefully put on and immediately positioned at your entrance. 

You swallowed, while Oscar tried not to think about whether he was really going too fast.

·I don't want to sound weird, but... please, if you want me to stop, just tell me,” Oscar spoke as best he could, trying not to succumb to the nerves he felt about taking this important step with you. “I want you to be pretty sure about this since… Well, since there’s not going back…”

You said nothing. Instead, you gave him a slight nod with your head, still looking at him, which was enough for Oscar to enter you carefully, but without a previous warning.

He decided to stand for a while so you could get used to his length. You felt a little pain. You held back a scream, bit your lips and closed your eyes to do your best to make that feeling go away as soon as possible.

“Y/N…”

“Go on, Oscar. It's all right…”

The boy nodded, and finished entering you with the same care. Little by little, his movements gained speed. You arched your back, moaning incessantly as she started feeling more comfortable with the depth of penetration, and Oscar hitting her in a spot that made her feel a pleasure that you feel in a way you didn’t know how to describe, but that felt good enough to make you never want that sex session to end.

“Does it feel good, honey? Are you enjoying my... cock... for the first time?” Oscar moaned, biting her neck. “Look at you… so desperate for me to keep fucking you…”

“Fuck, Oscar... this is a fantasy,” you gasped. “And you talking so... like… like this... God... Don't stop, please…”

“Never for you, sweetheart.”

Your moans became one, a melody that your neighbors were probably listening to but you didnt give a fuck. Your gazes could hardly be averted, and your words, getting dirtier and dirtier as much as your were embarrassed at first, were sounding louder and louder, as were your pleas.

“Oscar!” you shrieked as you felt Oscar's fingers press against you nervous bundle.”

“Love...” he moaned through his teeth. ”Don't stop moaning my name, please. You don't know how you're making me feel right now.

·And of course I'm going to make you feel so much better when we do this again,” you replied, choking with pleasure. As best you could, you sat up a little and wrapped you arms around you boyfriend's neck. “I want to do it again, Osc,” you made it clear. “I want us to do this every time we get the chance....”

You kept moaning his name, giving him promises you knew he would never break. He kept reassuring you and how good you were doing, speeding up his movements as he couldn’t stop playing with your clit, all of that while he kept telling you that you were his.

You couldn't contain it anymore for the second time that day.

“Fuck, Osc,” he stammered. “I think I'm gonna…”

“Let yourself go, honey,” the brown-haired said. “You can do it, love. Cum for me.”

Your orgasm came before you could say anything else. Oscar came within seconds of you, and as soon as he did he ended, he gave you a short kiss on the lips as he carefully pulled out of heyour and collapsed beside you. 

Oscar's gaze remained fixed on the ceiling. You rested your head on his shoulder, trying to regain your composure with increasingly slower breaths. 

“You ok babe?” Oscar murmured after a few minutes.

“Yes,” you whispered, nodding your head with a smile peeking out. “Better than ever, actually.”

It was then that it dawned on Oscar. Quickly, he sat up a little and saw what was under where you were still positioned. His heart began to race, and a pressure settled in his chest as he realized the light blue bed sheets were stained slightly with blood as was his condom, still on him and which he hadn't paid attention to because he just wanted to be with you cuddling after he'd made you lose your virginity.

“Hey, listen, love…” he started to say in a calm, but concerned tone.

You followed his gaze, and couldn't help but blush and die of embarrassment inside.

“Oh...” you spoke quietly, instinctively covering yourself with the sheets. “This... is normal. Well, I guess so…”

“Does it hurt? Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, denying it, though the look on your face seemed to say otherwise.

“Well… It's just a little... just a little sore. But it's fine, really. It happens when you have sex for the first time with someone.”

Oscar studied your face, and he knew you wanted to stop this conversation. You wanted to let it go and pretend everything was fine so you wouldn't give him any sign that you hadn't liked it, even though your moans and pleas seemed to say otherwise.

“Still, you shouldn't let it go.”

The Australian approached you and gave you a shy kiss on the forehead. Then he got out of bed, still naked.

·Where are you going?” you asked in a voice mixed with curiosity and nervousness.

“I'm going to get a towel with hot water to clean you up.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was already heading towards the bathroom while taking off his condom. As you heard the faucet turn on, and your boyfriend getting everything ready, you couldn't help but feel bad because, maybe, Oscar deserved better, and your behavior, what was happening to you now, was not what he deserved.

You forced yourself to stop overthinking because if there’s one thing you knew for sure is that Oscar loved you, more than sometimes you were conscious of.

Your boyfriend came back a few minutes later, and found you sitting on the bed, curled up on yourself and clinging to the sheets while still covering with them, as if you were afraid.

“You don't have to…”

“I know,” Oscar cut you off, offering you a small smile, “but I want to. So, please, just let me take care of you.”

Your eyes softened at his proposal, and you forced yourself to calm down as Oscar, with his gaze and his hands coyly on your thighs, asked your permission to spread your legs. You nodded, and he carefully ran the wet towel and hot water over your pussy, giving it little touches because he didn't want to risk it stinging or hurting any more because he really didn't know exactly how the female body worked after losing your virginity.

When he finished, he kissed her knee and sat down next to her again, also covering himself with the sheets so he could hug her and, more than anything else, try to reassure her and make her feel as good as possible.

“There, that's it, all settled. Now, let's stay here and rest.”

“Was it good?”

Oscar let out a small laugh from his mouth at your sudden question as he leaned over to you and snuggled into your shoulder. 

”You've been amazing, love,” he replied, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Now you were both lying on your bed, looking at each other. “Are you okay now that… Did I hurt you? I need you to be honest with me... I should have asked you if you liked the pace I decided to take because, well, I’m not going to lie to you, I think I could have gone a little slower...”

You shook your head and didn't give him a chance to keep talking. Instead, you grabbed his face and pressed your lips to his.

“You don't have to worry about anything, Osc. It was far from perfect. So, from now on, I hope you win more races because from today on, winning sex has become a tradition that I hope we keep for a long time.”

Oscar laughed, knowing you were completely serious.

“We can make a tradition of this and anything else you want, love,” he buried his face in yours, and began to tickle your waist gently. “We can even have several rounds if you want, so… thoughts on that? Should we keep ready for a second round today?”

[alex51324]

You're right; this was meant to be contexualized by another post I made, about how Chaos Is the Point, and attention and outrage are finite resources. But this post ended up having a much bigger reach, so a lot of people are seeing it who didn't see the other one.

To summarize:

Because no one can live at DefCon 5 all the time, we need to be thoughtful about distinguishing between "Trump's back on his bullshit," "This is a real actual thing that could happen if they get their shit together," and "holy shit, grab the kids and run." AKA, threat levels Piss Yellow, Spray-Tan Orange, and Blood Red.

A lot of Trump's EOs are simply publicity stunts. For instance, a few days ago there was a flurry of panic because he'd rescinded a Johnson-era Civil Rights EO, which had a similar name to the Act which codified it into law a few years later. With this EO, Trump was showing us (once again) who he is and what he values, but in terms of actual legal effect, it was nothing. Within hours of the headlines announcing this EO, there were clarifications about it all over the place.

Another batch are so blatantly illegal that, again within hours, there are well-grounded legal challenges in process, and often judicial stays on the order. The "funding pause" is one of these, as was Trump's attempt to limit birthright citizenship.

The first group are pure yellow, and the second are sort of orange-tinged, like the urine of a man who drinks only diet coke (and not enough of it). It's important for state governments, the ACLU, and other relevant stakeholders to respond quickly with those legal challenges, but as an ordinary person, you can kind of figure it's being handled, and just keep an eye out in case it explodes somehow, or the groups doing the legal challenges are asking for a show of support from the public.

The next concern level, solid orange, is a mix of orders where it isn't really clear what Trump was trying to do or if it means anything, or where the legality of the order is more open to interpretation, meaning that if it ends up in front of a Trump-friendly judge, it could make it through.

These are the ones where you want to pay attention as the situation develops, especially if the order would affect you personally. With this category, there maybe things for you to do, like writing/calling your congresspeople, attending protests, etc., or ways you can prepare for impact if you're in the affected group (or help others in the affected group prepare). As you follow the story, make sure you're using trusted sources of information, and share information when you're reasonably confident that it is accurate and useful.

And then red, of course, is where the effect could be immediate and drastic, and affected groups should prepare to take quick action. For instance, for federal employees, the "fork in the road" emails are dark orange bordering on red. It's pretty clear that Trump is attempting a purge of the civil service; it's not clear whether he's actually going to succeed, or what comes next if making ominous noises and trying to bribe people to quit doesn't work. If you are in the affected group on this one--that is, a federal employee--you should be actively planning & working with your union, others in your department, and/or legal representation to understand what's happening & what is best for you to do.

As the threat level tends toward Red, it remains important to seek accurate and useful information sources, but at the same time, events may be evolving quickly. Be conscious of how you use and pass along information in the "important if true" category: of course you don't want to be so cautious you miss the window to respond before the situation turns critical, but you also don't want to waste your and others' time with actions that are unnecessary or counterproductive.

It's a very normal and natural impulse, when things are scary, to want to sound the alarm and share the scary information as widely as possible, but overreacting can make it harder for people to pay attention to the most scary things.

Food for thought

[meo-eiru]

Theo doesn’t talk to her.

Not because he doesn’t want to.

Because he can’t.

Because every time he even thinks about opening his mouth, his throat closes up, and his hands shake, and he feels like he might just throw up on the floor.

She’s right there, inches away, talking to someone else, laughing like it’s nothing, like it’s so easy to be… perfect.

Theo grips the hem of his sweater and looks down, brown curls spilling over his face, hiding what he doesn’t want the world to see. His eye burns, his single, lonely green eye, the one thing that makes him stand out in all the worst ways.

She can’t see it.

She can’t see him.

He wants to be seen, but only by her. Wants her to notice, but not too much. Wants her to hear the words he can’t even say.

"Y/N..."

The name is a fragile thing in his head, something that might shatter if he says it too loud.

He watches from the corner of his eye as she reaches into her bag, fingers brushing against something, a pen maybe, and the thought of how easy it would be to hold that hand makes his chest feel hollow. He knows the shape of her hands better than his own. Knows the way her lips move when she’s lost in thought. Knows how she tucks her hair behind her ear when she’s concentrating.

But she doesn’t know him… maybe that’s for the best. Because if she ever really saw him, saw the way his fingers twitch when she’s too close, saw the way he lingers just a second longer in the places she’s been, saw the way his thoughts wrap around her name like thorns, and his eye—

She’d run.

They always do.

(Back with a short fic for my favorite cyclops)

I have to admit I was so immersed in this I actually tried to like it as if it was a post and not an ask in my inbox

My god op you write so beautifully, you really made me feel his loneliness.

Theo is indeed very lonely, he usually doesn't mind it. He made peace with the fact he would probably spend his entire life alone around elementary school. He's alright, it's not like he's jealous of the people who go out with their friends, do romantic stuff with their lovers or just... exist without the fear of the other person finding them disgusting.

But your sheer existence makes all his resolve crumble down. His sweet, beautiful, perfect y/n. Someone who can do wrong. Even if you did hurt someone you probably had your reasons.

He loves you. He loves you so much. For the longest time he couldn't even bring himself to think like that in his head because someone like him doesn't have the right to think of you in such ways.

But even as the monster he is Theo still has emotions. Some too strong for his weak body to handle, so he tries to make it better.

He sketches you as he secretly watches you from a few seats behind, he writes your name over and over again like a prayer, he secretly follows you home and takes you pictures. Sometimes he intentionally skips his lesson to go rummage your locker, if he's lucky he'll find a piece of clothing and will try to relive himself while hugging and smelling it for the next hour or so.

He doesn't want to be seen, but he wants you to see him. He doesn't want to be noticed, but he wants you to notice him. He doesn't want to be touched, but he wants you to touch him.

He often fantasizes about you catching him as he tries to steal one of your belongings. He wants you to make him regret it, but also become aware that he is there. He wants you to talk to him even if it's to call him a creep. Because Theo is a coward, he's a coward who pathetically stalks you instead of actually having to courage to speak up. So he wants you to do it. He wants you to one day turn around and see him, your eyes to meet his.

You noticing him, you knowing him, you insulting him, you loving him.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

tbh I don't know why everyone is so surprised that Riddle didn't pick Trey to be his Vice. I always thought that idea was contradictory to the version of Riddle that we see leading up to his overblot.

[You can see my thoughts on the book 7 chapter 12 part 2 update here!]

To quickly explain for those who don’t know: the recent update informed us that Trey was voted by his dormitory peers into the vice dorm leader position. He was not, in fact, hand selected by the newly appointed dorm leader Riddle.

I don’t really blame people for being surprised. Based on the presentation of Riddle and Trey in book 1 and what we knew prior about how vice dorm leaders are picked, the lore we learn in book 7 almost feels like it’s trying to convince us of another narrative historical revisionism, ayo/j. Let me try to explain what I mean.

Firstly, we have to remember that we spent a lot of book 1 with Trey, not with Riddle. We had lunch with Trey, we made a chestnut tart with Trey, we confronted Trey in the library, and we fought OB Riddle with Trey. We also see the camera cutting away to multiple instances of Trey trying to smooth things over with Riddle. And Trey is the one with warmth and fondness for his relationship with Riddle. Because we spend all this time with Trey (who is still attached to Riddle) versus Riddle (who is supposedly distant and detached), we get the impression that the two are closer than they truly are prior to Riddle’s OB. This impression is further strengthened by the presence of Chenya, another friend who paints their shared childhood in a largely positive light.

If you pay attention to how Riddle speaks to Trey throughout book 1 (pre-OB), Riddle does not speak warmly at all. He is usually speaking from the position of a ruler to his second-in-command and much of his dialogue with Trey is him commanding Trey to do X or Y. There’s no reminiscing about old times, no Riddle lording their childhood friendship to guilt Trey into falling in line, no leniency with Trey, nothing that would imply a connection beyond a professional one. Riddle basically treats Trey the same as Cater, his other third year minion at the time—and Riddle isn’t close with Cater at all. The one major exception I would say is right before Riddle OBs, in which he demands if Trey is also betraying him. Again, because we have spent so much time with Trey, we see Riddle from his perspective. We are more likely to view Riddle’s demand as him being hurt that his childhood friend is turning on him versus viewing Riddle’s demand as being hurt that his right-hand man who has been following his orders right up until now refuses to obey.

Really, it feels like less of an issue of fans not picking up on Riddle and Trey being alienated in early book 1 and more of an issue of how book 1 is framed. So much of it is colored by Trey’s (ironically) rose-colored lenses, so we as the viewers who are exposed to it are far more likely to see their friendship as persisting and Riddle having a soft spot for Trey as well. (Riddle is more patient later in the main story too, Granted that book 1 was so long ago, fans may remember the more patient and empathetic post-book 1 Riddle and may judge him based on that metric rather than the book 1 metric.)

Another major aspect as to why people are surprised that Riddle didn’t personally pick Trey as his vice dorm leader is because we literally didn’t know about any other methods to become vice dorm leader??? 😭 Like. I’m pretty sure that the only method we knew of before was to be picked by the dorm leader. I guess people noticed Riddle and Trey were childhood friends and assumed Riddle picked Trey because of familiarity? This is also the case with several other dorm leader/vice dorm leader duos, so this conclusion isn’t based on nothing.

Trey doesn’t strike a lot of us as a particularly… ambitious person?? He often expresses that he doesn’t like getting involved in conflicts or when people cause problems for him, which would be common occurrences for someone in a position of power like the vice dorm leader seat. You’d think Trey would actively want to avoid those responsibilities. Most of us probably didn’t think he would accept the position of vice dorm leader unless the person picking him for it is someone he cares about and/or feels like he has to support—which Riddle is. A ton of his behaviors in book 1 supports this, from doing Riddle’s dirty work and sharing that he harbors guilt over the past + struggles to speak against Riddle because of that.

Book 7 tells us what was technically true of Riddle’s perspective and treatment of Trey early in book 1. We just failed to see it before because of the lack of information and overwhelming bias at the time.

[voidsuites]

MULTI BOT RELEASE !!! (1/31/25) ⌢ ✨ .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．noid. tennis has given art everything anyone could ever want— a fulfilling career, you and lily, and countless influential titles and wins— and with him getting closer to becoming a household name, art’s more than aware of his luck. he’s beyond grateful. however, fame’s a double-edged sword and it’s getting harder to both play into the paparazzi and their mind-games and also protect his family, so it’s not a surprise that art loses his temper when those lines finally get crossed. (based off “noid” by tyler the creator!)

bruce wayne・゜゜・．billie bossa nova. underneath all the sneaking around hotel rooms and charity galas, both you and bruce long to be understood for more than just your family names and your money. whatever’s going on between the two of you is merely putting a band-aid on a niger issue, you’re aware, but there’s something about bruce that helps you rationalize the less-than-ideal circumstances. a lot can change in twenty seconds… a lot can happen in the dark. (based off “billie bossa nova” by billie eilish!)

jim hopper ・゜゜・．you’re a fighter. in one moment, all hop had to worry about was you slowly growing more independent and mike wheeler’s insufferable attitude, but now the mind flayer’s set its sights on you and you’ve seemingly lost your powers. setting the mess with the russians beneath starcourt mall aside, hopper’s main priority is making sure you’re safe and away from any more danger. you may be a fighter, but you’re his kid first. (based off “you’re a fighter” by kyle dixon and michael stein!)

joel miller ・゜゜・．western nights. joel knows you’re not supportive of the violent ways he provides for you, but in a post-apocalyptic world morals are put on the back burner while he concerns himself with keeping you both fed, housed, and taken care of. you’re stubborn, he’s stubborn, but you’d never think of taking off and leaving him behind. this time’s no different. (based off “western nights” by ethel cain!)

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．part of your world. mermaids were nothing but a mere children's bedtime story— they weren't real. that’s what patrick’s father had told him since he'd been a boy; that the wondrous creatures he believed in with all his heart were nothing but tall tales meant to put the children of new rochelle to bed with little fight. that’s proven to be false when you rescue him from swimming with the fishes for eternity, and now that he knows your kind is real, patrick just has to learn more. he’ll bring you as many human trinkets for your collection as you’d like if you’d let him be part of your world for a moment. (based off “part of your world” by jodi benson and disney!)

tashi duncan ・゜゜・．bodyguard. wlw. tashi’s always been protective of you since you started seeing each other, but it’s always amusing to see just how worked-up she gets when you’re the center of attention. stanford’s hosting a concert in the park, art and patrick are nowhere to be found, and tashi’s left to keep herself in control lest she “accidentally” scare people off because they’ve looked at you too long. she’ll protect you in the mosh pit, no doubt— but she’s still working on keeping that territorial nature of hers in check. (based off “bodyguard” by beyoncé!)

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 10.4K! so excited to get started on my celebration requests— you guys once again are the BEST!!!! i hope all of these are to your liking… but do forgive me if joel is a little too ooc lol i’ve only seen bits of tlou but i tried to capture him right. hehe. i also made a tumblr community for all things voidsuites-oriented 🤭 join yap city if you dare (i’m still figuring out what i’ll post on there but think of it as a communal close friends story on ig haha) anyways i love these characters and i love these songs and i love you all!!!! thank you for making this so much fun for me i’m so grateful <3

[seewetter]

"ofc we’re stupid and illiterate our schools suck!!!"

The whole framing is wrong.

Why are people talking about "stupid" Americans? Because they're discussing why America so often is plagued by decisions with foresee-ably terrible outcomes.

But America is an oligarchy, it's participatory elements are minimal and often pure aesthetic. How much control do people exercise in a first-past-the-post electoral system with massive corporate bribes (Superpacs) that also influence media reporting, which is also a surveillance and police state?

Rhetorical question, right? So if Americans barely exercise control, what are we criticizing? Are we criticizing the >70% of Americans who don't even own a firearm? Or the majority of Texans that vote Democrat...even though it's a "red state" due to how their laws work? Are we criticizing the American majority that shows sympathies for Bernie Sanders, support abortion, queer rights, trans rights, realizes climate change is real and is the reason why "woke" (diverse) Hollywood movies make such money?

Why criticize Americans for watching Marvel, when Marvel viewership numbers have collapsed over the years?

Why criticize Americans for not knowing who James Baldwin is, when James Baldwin is in many ways not someone who affected the course of history or someone who Americans -- who I am CERTAIN use the public library all the time -- would necessarily stumble upon when reading in a public library. What, did you learn about Baldwin from watching Nosferatu? Or maybe a Cronenberg movie? Would Americans borrowing books on history naturally stumble on Baldwin? If they borrow the collected speeches of Martin Luther King Jr. or the Autobiography of Malcolm X, will these reference James Baldwin?

People know who James Baldwin is because he is an excellent writer and certain white Jewish intellectuals in the 1970s stumbled across his prose and made him famous and later Baldwin would burn those ties and became famous within progressive activist circles. This does not mean that a visit to a public library will make people aware that he exists. You have to know what to look for.

Also progressives often know who he is but not what he said. How many progressives do you know who don't care that James Baldwin talked about the "myth of race", that James Baldwin considered post-racial thinking to be more progressive than identity politics? Most progessives who know Baldwin quote him second-hand or third-hand, why are you not mad at them? Why some nebulous idea of "Americans"?

"because you assholes have had FREE ACCESS to THOUSANDS of books and audiobooks and classic films this ENTIRE TIME you’ve been blaming your schools for your elected ignorance!!!"

In 19th century anarchist literature, a distinction was often made between the freedom to do something and the capacity to do something. The freedom and legal right to buy a yacht is nice...but if you can't actually buy a yacht, you have the freedom but not the capacity.

Like how many holidays and free weekends does the average American have? There has to be a better way to educate people with a busy schedule than shaming them about their ignorance, especially when ignorance is tied to class. DON'T misread me. I'm not saying working class people are ignorant. I'm saying some people can afford a very nice education for their kids and other people can't. "Oh, it's on the internet, which is free" is not how people spontaneously become enlightened.

Like: just have a chat with a Joe Rogan listener. They're mostly Trump supporters, but all of the ones I've met are achingly sincere. They really do have the wool over their eyes, they're usually not malicious. And they're really really ...like they don't have a good research strategy. They don't even know what that looks like. They think they're "studying" when they listen to podcasts. That's a thing they think. Do you think free access to libraries and internet has given these people all they need to free themselves from their shackles and the risks they pose to others? Do you think people just spontaneously sit down and every week for a year devote all available time to researching academic literature on a hot button topic? Many of these people don't even know where to find appropriate academic literature ("It's too expensive" thought one Rogan listener I know) and many of them associate these resources with academic agendas.

Look up "hermeneutics of suspicion". It's when people approach a topic looking for ways to confirm their suspicious feelings. That's what's going on there. People read some academic article and they suspect it's all BS. If they don't understand a concept, they assume someone is trying to manipulate them. And why shouldn't they, the media is blatantly dishonest, academia has a number of crises and universities have certain conflicts of interest. Why shouldn't these people spontaneously start from such a place? It's not your job to shame them, because if you do, they assume you are doing so from a place of ideological fanaticism, rather than from a place of informed frustration. You know the meme where trans people talking about gender is represented as Plato and Aristotle in the agora, having a debate, while trans people talking to cis people about gender is represented as a mom helping her toddler assemble building blocks? That analogy applies to any topic. There are a lot of adult "toddlers" out there and if you call them toddlers to their face, they will rightfully be ashamed and upset. They put a lot of work into forming their beliefs, they just don't have a good starting point. Or decent tools. Or non-judgmental 24/7 help. And they exist in a quagmire of bullshit claims. And they relate to misinformation in a vibes-based way if the information otherwise seems to be applicable and more useful in their life.

If someone lives in a media environment that reassures them that they are currently studying the (alternate) facts and informing themselves, or that they are currently getting the gist of the facts from experts, then people won't necessarily use the library or grasp its value. Also you have to use the library correctly.

"and if you expect me to you’re classist and 18 year old Americans are too stupid to know bombing foreign countries kills people so it’s okay if they choose to do that rather than work at McDonald’s and of course I have no idea what stocks are or what colonialism is and MCU is the height of cinema and it’s feminist to wear makeup like."

I find teens accusing every intellectual impulse of being classist and ableist unbearable too, but not so long ago, this website popularized the idea that the only valid criticism of feminism was an anti-racist, anti-classist, anti-ableist, anti-transmisogynist, anti-perisexist etc. criticism.

In other words "I refuse to course correct unless you show me how my current course hurts a minority."

So yes, people will defend American complacency using ridiculous "anti-classist" rhetoric. Because it's the only defense they've seen modelled and maybe even the only defense that's socially permitted in their circle of friends.

Defenses of war crimes are horrible. Period. If people think Americans don't have a partial responsibility just because they were ignorant, they're wrong. But partial responsibility isn't full blame and more importantly: are real Tumblr users actually saying that exact thing in good faith? Are people out there defending ignorant Americans who never talked to a soldiers about what a bomb is and does or who never watched a bomb dropped in a movie?

I agree Disney adults can be irritating, but I think that most Americans aren't Disney adults and those that are... are from all walks of life and varying degrees of ignorance. Are Disney adults, Marvel fans, the ones who don't grasp that bombs kill people? Or is this a weird mishmash of stereotypes that don't capture why America, as a state institution, is such a horror? To me it's also sad that Americans get overly emotional about Mickey Mouse and that Marvel movies got so successful, but I think this is not really connected to America. Marvel movies and Disney parks aren't uniquely American, America is just -- at gunpoint -- the largest economy in the world, so a lot of junk that people worldwide consume comes from there. Disney Parks in Japan or France do quite well and also involve Disney Adults, we just don't hear about them so much and the money is ultimately made by America, a country with military bases in almost every other country. Is this the fault of Disney Adults in Orlando, Florida? I don't think so.

Also makeup is an "unfeminist choice", but feminists should, in fact, fight for people's freedom to make unfeminist choices. Kate Harding had an entire essay on that.

As for the reply:

When trying to convince someone that their reasons for believing something are faulty, always make sure to point out what they may have missed and try not to miss anything yourself.

Let me provide a few examples:

"Did you know that to get to a library here, you have to travel?"

The person you are responding to wrote (and you acknowledged it with "I'm glad you found a way to access our libraries") that to read the contents of a library, all that is needed is digital access.

So then "did you know you have to travel" doesn't make sense as the next sentence. It's on its face unconvincing.

"Since you know so much about us, you must know that our public transportation system is all but non-functional, and a lot of people can't even afford bus fare, let alone their own vehicle, and most of our cities are not walkable. The closest library in the town where my half-siblings grew up was a 30-minute drive away. But there are digital libraries, of course!"

Of course! And their existence invalidates all the detailed descriptions you just provided for the inaccessibility of American libraries. Americans that don't use the libraries don't use them because (A) they forget these exist (B) they don't want to use them (sometimes out of shame, sometimes out of misguided conviction).

"Did you know that not every single one of us stupid Americans has access to a home computer and internet?"

The OP you are responding to was concrete about being frustrated by kids (18 19 20 year olds) on Tumblr. If they're on Tumblr, they must have internet and must be able to access an internet library.

"Did you know that exceptionally strict conservative parents monitor their childrens' internet usage and restrict what they can see?"

Yes and.

Yes, and this influences blindspots that some Americans have.

See, on its own "do you know some parents monitor internet" creates a strawman example, where the people OP was attacking (people who freely use tumblr.com, "the queerest site on the internet") are somehow being treated as if they have parents that monitor their internet usage and censor all content that might burst their conservative bubble. I hope we can agree that these are two different groups of Americans.

"Did you know that school library media centers (computer labs) restrict access to a lot of websites and information that do not pertain to curriculum? Of course you did."

But if the people are goofing around on Tumblr calling others "classist" for expecting them to know stuff, how is the computer lab not restricting their Tumblr access? How does Tumblr pertain to their curriculum?

It's possible that this is a censorship oversight or something, but again, the real counterargument against OPs nonsense isn't "Americans aren't free to know new information" and rather "Americans often lack the capacity to even know what they're looking for". I don't think OP name-dropping James Baldwin and stocks will have given people any real idea of what they need to look for, especially if they need comprehensive education on everything from ecology to statecraft and civics to economics, to history, geography, moral philosophy, epistemology, foreign policy, marginalized perspectives and activism, statistics, organizing, protesting safety, IT security and data protection, narrative structure, narrative experimentation, artistic craft, avant-garde sensibilities (I'm being entirely unironic about that.), reading comprehension, project management, culinary skill, survival skills, networking skills, the list goes on.

This also isn't merely an "American" problem. I know plenty of Australians, Kiwis, Canadians, Europeans who use gmail accounts, don't understand imperialism and need a crash course in epistemology every time a hot button issue comes into discussion because they just keep shouting at each other without treating the other party as a human being with their own heuristic for gathering, evaluating and processing information.

"Did you know that lobbyists are trying very hard to defund and even actively shut down our libraries. Partially because they don't want us to have access to free recources, but also because ignorance works in their favor? Did you know book bans are being placed in libraries across the country, based on what conservatives deem inappropriate?"

Most of those points seem a little off topic (lobbyists trying to defund libraries may affect future ignorance but doesn't account for ignorance today), but I grant that the book bans really might have some kind of impact that prevents people from having heard of James Baldwin. It's a decent reply to the OP, who seems to think all libraries serve up the same information to all Americans. But you should be fair enough to recognize that it still is a bit weird when the people who show up ignorant are ...Tumblr users smart enough to be making accusations of classism.

"Since you know all about how we are educated, you must know that American curriculum is designed to discourage curiosity and create the illusion that we are far and above all other nations and that everything we are taught in our classes about others is simply all there is to know."

What I've heard is that many public school teachers in America are extremely dedicated well-meaning people. I've met a few American teachers and their German counterparts, for example, earn about 20 times what they earn. So American teachers often really are in it to help kids learn.

I'm not sure that the American curriculum really exists to "discourage curiosity", that sounds a bit weird to me. I do know the Texas board of education tried to ban critical thinking and I know American schools have some weird national anthem singing and I bet they teach American exceptionalism. But I would say perhaps the only reason any of that sticks is because Americans often can't afford to visit other countries.

I have not heard that Americans learn that school teaches them all there is to know, but when I think of ignorant Americans, they often give me the opposite impression: that of a "do your own research type" who doesn't think "I know everything from school" and instead just never bothered to buy a book about Atmospheric Phenomena (or grab a illegal free .pdf copy) and therefore thinks some glittering orb in the sky is a alien spacecraft. Genuinely, ignorant people are often really nice people who try to learn about the world, have a real desire to learn new things... and then they watch Graham Hancock or some other well-designed nonsense and they mis-educate themselves and get very defensive if anyone tries to correct them, however gently, in part because they lack even the basic skills to know whether the correction is plausible.

"So, with all of this information that you clearly already had at your disposal, do you genuinely believe these children are cognizant or at all concerned with how much they know about other countries and cultures?"

I think the better question to ask is "Do you really think only Americans would fail at "Are you smarter than a 5th grader?""

Because let's face it, I've seen European versions of that premise, where they go out into the street, ask a basic question ("What's the equator?") and get embarrassing answers ("A line that floats in the sky above the center of our planet").

OPs gripe with "Americans" is that they know other countries exist but just don't care. But hey, are Europeans that much better? In Europe, people know European countries...because countries are small and these are almost like American "states" in a way, especially since the EU is in many ways a country in all but name (and lack of military). How many Europeans know how many African countries there are, what their names are, what their capitals are, what their history is, what colonial powers kept which country under control when and for how long? How many Europeans know anything about Laos or Cambodia? Do Europeans even know which continent Cambodia is on?

And I've talked to Japanese people and found incredible ignorance. And do we imagine that the education system in, say, Burkina Faso or Brazil produces much more worldly individuals?

If you want to criticize specifically American ignorance you need to things: you need lots of real-life examples AND you need to prove these examples are unique to America.

Like India recently managed to get a lot of kids into school long enough to learn how to read, which is awesome! But if someone from India (like OP) is attacking American ignorance, OP is likely doing so from a certain degree of "wealth in the family". That's not a criticism, just a (hopefully humbling) observation. Countries around the world can blame their widespread ignorance on colonialism...and then get upset at ignorant colonizers. But maybe no place on Earth really produces a completely sufficiently informed citizenship.

"Adults who are groomed through adulthood to believe that "bombing foreign countries" and selling their body to their government is one of the only accessible options to receive further education."

Isn't the American military facing historically low recruitment numbers and worried about morphing into a "warrior caste" (their words, not mine) because their recruits mostly come from old military families where everyone's in the military? Not to say the poor person going to the army doesn't exist, but aren't most Americans pretty anti-military, especially these days?

"You believe these people are simply bumbling idiots too self-absorbed to want to learn about the history and inner workings of every other nation around them?"

Why emphasize that public schools brainwash the kids with American exceptionalism and then turn around to argue that the people leaving public school AREN'T self-absorbed about their own country? That comes off as overly defensive, not as a reflective response. I doubt OP found that argument very convincing.

"Like, you understand that not knowing what you don't know is a thing, yes?"

But OP must at least be partially correct. Like -- I would blame maybe feelings of overwhelm at all the information, and maybe mistrust of information sources -- but it does often come across, at least at first glance, that a lot of Americans can't be bothered to understand basic geography. Like they know countries outside of America exist, but aren't bothered enough to find out what they are.

Again, this is probably not a purely American problem, but one does sometimes get the impression that many Americans approach conversations without making sure they have a bit of an overview of the topic. They often just seem to research the talking points of their side in a debate (i.e. they know the history of colonialism better than they know which countries have Spanish as an official language, so it's easy to make them look stupid or they have to ask what tariffs are but they already think tariffs are great since Trump is doing them...like why aren't they reading the "tariffs" page on Wikipedia or whatever, to get at least a general idea? What's going on?)

"I would go as far as to point out the hypocrisy of all of your shaming when the beginning of your post clearly states that you were ignorant of a resource available to you before it was pointed out to you."

Now that's a sick burn. But don't get cozy.

"Your time spent belligerently accusing a whole society of people which you deem unintelligent of being willfully uneducated and unwilling to reach beyond their own privilege would be better spent sharing resources you've found and encouraging others to broaden their own horizons. But hatred of the American public as a whole is a lot easier when you can paint us all as intentionally dumb and heels-dug-in fascists."

It is hard for people to grasp how little control Americans have over their society. When America always advertises itself as "land of the free" it seems like they freely choose to be giant assholes on the world stage.

And it's only with a lot of reflection and/or research that people realize just how much the game is rigged. But still...the people who just flat out support tariffs, for example, without wasting a single braincell on experimenting on how they can find information on it that doesn't come from a possibly biased pro-Trump source...like it feels like willful ignorance. Part of me can't believe it isn't.

ever since i got access to american library cards thanks to tumblr user anneemay (pbuh) 2 weeks ago ive lost even the 3% sympathy i had for americans crying ofc we’re stupid and illiterate our schools suck!!! because you assholes have had FREE ACCESS to THOUSANDS of books and audiobooks and classic films this ENTIRE TIME you’ve been blaming your schools for your elected ignorance!!! from my home in India I’ve listened to eight audiobooks and watched half of cronenberg’s oevre and I’m watching nosferatu (1922) today and I can’t even go to a library in person and you people have had these things your entire life yet you come on tumblr at 18 19 20 and say you don’t know who james baldwin is and if you expect me to you’re classist and 18 year old Americans are too stupid to know bombing foreign countries kills people so it’s okay if they choose to do that rather than work at McDonald’s and of course I have no idea what stocks are or what colonialism is and MCU is the height of cinema and it’s feminist to wear makeup like. my god. you people are going to go through the rest of your life being incoherently stupid and it’s not because you’re poor and it’s not because your schools suck but its because you’re so ensconced in your American privilege that you will never be forced to confront the realities of life and you can go on living your Disney adult fantasies because you’ve destroyed your innate human curiosity and potential at the altar of hyper consumption.

[itsrlymine]

https://www.tumblr.com/itsrlymine/774119998237114368/hey-im-the-one-who-sent-that-ask-lol?source=share

damnn girl you only started this account two months ago??? how did u gain followers so quickly??

omg yes i started this page in november. right after i decided what theme i'd use and what type of posts i'd make, i mediated for like two seconds just starring at my empty blog and decided that it would be successful super quickly and i'd have incredible interactions with everyone whether or not i posted everyday. each day, i would think about how many followers i would gain in a day and i did just that. when i made my first three posts (my intro, 3d is you and personal success stories), i had like 5 followers but got excited and felt like i had over 3k. now i do ofc. i didn't care about the fact that my screen would say 5 notes or 20 notes. I'd look and see that it said 1,700 or 2,300 notes. and it's so crazy thinking back honestly bc wow i did that fr.

i would literally always be manifesting this page's success bc how i can i have a manifestation page and not be using what i know to my benefit?! I decided i'd grow insanely fast and every post i'd make would resonate and help so many people. 96% of this page is LITERALLY JUST SUCCESS STORIES LIKE OMMGGGG! And that's what I always wanted. I didn't want the focus to be on me but on the fact that everyone can get what they want and i got over 50 success stories within the first week to two weeks like whatt.

i've always wanted to have a reason to come back to tumblr and have a super fun page where i interact with people and i didn't initially think it would be for manifesting but it makes complete sense that's how it happened.

i also decided that my posts would make it onto different manifestation platforms and BROOOO! Everyone i wanted my post to get on, they freakin did and they would do numbers. I wanted people to post my work on twitter, reddit and pinterest and that's all happened and it happened so freakin quickly. like i searched my name on twitter the other day, i saw so many of my posts had reached audiences i didn't even know i had.

i guess this would be another success story of mine lmaooo. i love this page and all of you guys so muchhhh!!!

[keferon]

Loving the golem Prowl story so far. Nothing I love more than a "fake" person knowing they're "not real" and having a complex about it. Also want to know more about how mecha "become" demons - do you think you could feel if it's going to happen? And if so, is it already too late?

I’d say you can absolutely feel it but by the time you do it’s already too late. It’s like turning around the last second before you get hit by a train or something. You can’t really do anything in that time so you just being extremely fucking terrified

I had a whole 5k words full of Demon!Shockwave lore I wanted to post today but something went wrong and I accidentally made the fic longer instead of editing it…Uh. Oops haha

[lovelymindescape]

can i request a thanos x virgin reader smut

Softened Edges (Choi Su-bong x Virgin!Fem!Reader)

pairing — choi su-bong x virgin!fem!reader

Summary - In the games you and Thanos were getting closer than friends. You have a special bond. Maybe that's because you told him in the games because you thought you're gonna die that you are still a virgin and that you want someone (him) that you trust to take it

warnings -most likely ooc Thanos. oral (fem receiving). unprotected p in v. implied cumming inside. Dirty talk. Virgin!Reader. Mild Roughness (Thanos's personality).Emotional Vulnerability. later established relationship. MDNI!

author’s note — not my first time writing smut but my first time Posting my smut writing , ignore typos , English is not my first language

The dim glow of the neon signs out on the street flickered through the window, casting hazy red lines across your shared bed. Thanos sat at the edge, rolling a cigarette between his fingers, the rough pads of his thumb pressing against the paper as if lost in thought.

“You sure about this?” His voice was deep, rasping with the weight of someone who had seen too much. He didn’t look at you right away, his dark eyes scanning the floor instead, as if giving you space to change your mind. You swallowed, fingers gripping the sheets beneath you. “Yeah. I am.”

That made him pause. Thanos wasn’t a man who hesitated often, but something about this—about you—made him move slower, more deliberate. He finally turned, setting the unlit cigarette aside before reaching out. His hand cupped your cheek, rough callouses dragging lightly against your skin. “I ain’t the kind of guy who does this ‘sweetly.’ His thumb brushed over your lower lip, gaze flickering with something unreadable. “But I can be careful.”

A shiver ran through you, nerves mixing with anticipation. “I trust you.” That was all it took. Su-bong let out a low sigh, as if shaking off whatever restraint was left in him. He pulled you closer, his warmth grounding you even as your heart raced. There was nothing rushed, nothing careless. For once, the man known as Thanos wasn’t taking—he was giving. And for the first time, you weren’t afraid to let yourself fall.

He let's his hand wander, his fingers softly tilting your chin up. The kiss starts slow—gentle, coaxing—before deepening, his tongue teasing against yours. His hands slide down your arms, tracing over your wrists before pulling you against him.

You shiver as his hands find the hem of your shirt, pushing it up inch by inch. "Lift your arms," he whispers. You obey, and the fabric is gone in seconds. His gaze lingers on your newly exposed skin, hunger flickering in his eyes , as he starts to plant little kisses all over. His fingers trail over your stomach, down to your hips, before slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. Thanos pauses, searching your face for hesitation. "Still with me?"

You nod, breathless.

With one swift movement he also removes your pants off you , Thanos takes a step back and admires what he just discovered. "I don't say this with a real meaning often , but you're beautiful , very beautiful to be honest".

He eases you back onto the bed, his lips tracing a slow, deliberate path down your chest. With skilled fingers, he unclasps your bra, sliding it off with practiced ease. His mouth latches onto your breast, lips warm and wet, tongue circling your nipple in lazy, teasing strokes. Each flick sends a spark straight between your thighs. He doesn’t stop there. His kisses travel lower, grazing over your ribs, dipping to your stomach. With every press of his lips, he leaves his mark—soft nips, lingering heat—claiming every inch of you.

His lips travel lower, grazing over your ribs and dipping to your stomach, each kiss lingering just long enough to make you squirm beneath him. His fingers skim along the edge of your panties, teasing, not yet giving you what you need."

"You're already trembling," he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. "I’ve barely even touched you." Your breath catches as he hooks his fingers into the fabric, sliding it down slowly. He watches your expression, drinking in every flicker of anticipation.

The way you press your thighs together doesn’t go unnoticed. "Open up for me, sweetheart,"he coaxes, softly but his voice is low and commanding, with an edge of tenderness. "Let me see all of you."

Your heart begins to race in your chest. You part your thighs hesitantly, feeling exposed under his dark, heated gaze. "Good girl," he praises, running his hands over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. His fingers trail upward, barely brushing over your core, enough to send a shiver through you—but not enough to satisfy.

You let out a quiet whimper, hips shifting slightly. He chuckles, clearly pleased by your sudden reaction. "So desperate already?" He dips a single finger between your folds, just teasing, gathering the slickness there before withdrawing again.

You bite your lip, frustration mixing with anticipation. "P-please..." His smirk deepens, but there’s warmth in his eyes. "Patience, sweetheart. I want to feel you come undone first." He leans in, pressing a lingering kiss just above where you need him most, his breath hot against your skin. Then, with agonizing slowness, he lowers his mouth.

His breath is warm against your most sensitive spot, the anticipation making every nerve in your body stand on edge. You barely have time to process the feeling before his tongue flicks out—just once, barely a touch—before pulling away again. The gasp that leaves your lips is embarrassingly needy.

"Mmm," he hums, satisfied. "You’re so sensitive. I wonder… how much more can you take?" Your fingers clutch at the sheets as his tongue moves again, this time with more purpose. He starts slow, dragging the wet heat of his mouth over you in slow, torturous strokes. His hands grip your thighs, keeping you open for him, completely at his mercy. "You taste so sweet, sweetheart," he murmurs between kisses, his voice thick with desire.

"I could stay here all night." Your mind feels hazy, lost in the unfamiliar but intoxicating sensations. You’ve never felt anything like this before—each stroke of his tongue sends a pulse of pleasure straight through you, leaving you breathless and trembling. Your hips buck slightly, chasing the feeling, but he immediately presses them back down with firm hands. "Ah, ah," he chides, amusement lacing his tone.

"Look at you, already so eager. But I’m in charge here, remember?" You bite your lip, embarrassed but unable to stop the soft whimper that escapes you when he flattens his tongue against you, applying more pressure. A tightness starts to build deep in your stomach, unfamiliar but overwhelming, and it only grows stronger as he adds a single finger, pressing inside you with slow, deliberate care.

"You’re so tight," he groans, his voice strained with restraint. "Relax for me, sweetheart. Let me in." His finger moves slowly at first, curling just right, coaxing pleasure from you with every stroke. His mouth never stops—lapping, teasing, driving you higher until the tension inside you coils impossibly tight. "That’s it," he breathes against you, feeling the way you tighten around him.

"Let go, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart." The pressure snaps. A cry leaves your lips as pleasure crashes over you, wave after wave rolling through your body. Your thighs tremble, fingers tangled in the sheets as you struggle to process the intensity of it all. He doesn't stop—not yet. He works you through it, tongue and fingers moving just enough to prolong your high, until the pleasure turns into oversensitivity and you're forced to whimper his name.

Only then does he finally pull away, lips glistening as he looks up at you with dark, heated eyes. "So beautiful," he murmurs, crawling back up your body to capture your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, but you’re too dazed to feel shy about it. "You’re not done yet, sweetheart," he whispers against your lips.

Your whole body trembles as the aftershocks of pleasure ripple through you, leaving you breathless and weak beneath him. Every nerve feels alight, oversensitive, but your mind is hazy, floating in the warmth of his touch.

He watches you, drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression—your chest rising and falling, lips parted as you struggle to catch your breath.

A smirk tugs at his lips, but there’s something else in his gaze, something darker. "Still with me, sweetheart?" he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. You nod weakly, but before you can fully recover, his hands slide up your body, covering you with his warmth as he moves to hover over you again. He kisses you—slow and deep, his tongue teasing against yours, letting you taste the remnants of your release on his lips.

Your body is still tingling, sensitive, but when he shifts between your legs, his hips pressing against yours, a different kind of heat starts to build. Your breath hitches as you feel him, heavy and hard, pressing against your entrance. "Mmm, you’re still shaking," he muses, brushing his lips along your jaw. His fingers glide down your side, soothing, grounding. "That felt good, didn’t it?"

You manage a nod, but the moment his tip nudges against you—just barely there—a soft gasp escapes you. He groans at the sound, rolling his hips just enough to tease. "So sensitive," he murmurs, voice thick with desire. "But you’re still so warm… so wet for me. You want more, don’t you?" Heat flares in your cheeks, but the way your body reacts—the way your thighs instinctively part for him—betrays you.

"That’s my girl," he praises, dragging his fingers along your hip before gripping it firmly. "I’ll go slow, sweetheart. I want you to feel everything." One hand finds yours, fingers lacing together as he slowly and carefully starts to push inside.

A soft whimper escapes you as he pushes deeper, stretching you inch by inch. The fullness is overwhelming, teetering between discomfort and something unfamiliar—something almost too much. Your fingers tighten against his shoulders, and he stills immediately, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Easy, sweetheart," he soothes, voice strained, as if it’s taking every ounce of control to hold himself back. "You’re taking me so well."

His hands caress your thighs, his thumbs drawing slow, grounding circles into your skin. He leans down, capturing your lips in a slow, lingering kiss—distracting, comforting, easing you through the adjustment. "Breathe," he murmurs against your lips.

You do. A deep inhale. A shaky exhale.

As your body relaxes around him, the discomfort begins to fade, replaced by a warmth that spreads deep inside you.

A new kind of pressure lingers there, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. You shift slightly beneath him, testing, and a soft moan slips from your lips at the sensation. His breath hitches. "Fuck," he groans, his forehead pressing against yours. His voice is rough, his control fraying at the edges. "You feel so tight, sweetheart. So perfect around me."

The praise sends a fresh wave of heat through you, and he notices—of course he notices. A smirk tugs at his lips, teasing, but there’s something deeper in his gaze. "Does it feel good?" he asks, his voice low, coaxing. You swallow hard, nodding shyly. "Words, sweetheart." His hips roll forward, just barely, sending a shiver through your body. "Tell me how it feels." "I—I like it," you admit breathlessly, your voice barely above a whisper.

His smirk deepens, but there’s warmth in his expression, something almost reverent. "That’s my good girl." Slowly, carefully, he pulls back before pressing in again, a slow, deliberate glide that has your nails digging into his skin. The stretch still lingers, but this time, pleasure begins to unfurl beneath it, curling low in your stomach. "That’s it," he murmurs, his voice a low rasp. "You’re taking me so well, sweetheart. Just let go for me."

His movements start slow—measured, gentle, letting you feel every inch of him as he fills you completely. He watches your expression intently, catching every flutter of your lashes, every gasp that spills from your lips. His hands never stop moving—one grips your thigh, keeping you open for him, while the other strokes soothing patterns against your skin. The teasing edge remains, but it’s softer now—less playful, more intimate. He leans down, capturing your lips in another kiss, this one deep and slow, matching the rhythm of his movements.

"You're mine now," he whispers against your lips, voice dripping with possessive affection. "Every little inch of you." A shiver runs through you, and something shifts. The pleasure starts to build, the sensitivity from before making every movement feel sharper, deeper. Your hips move instinctively, chasing the feeling, and he groans at the way you tighten around him.

"So eager now," he teases, but his voice is strained, as if he’s barely holding himself together. His pace picks up slightly, not rough, but more insistent—each thrust pressing deeper, sending waves of heat through your body. Your mind feels hazy, lost in the pleasure, the overwhelming fullness, the way he makes you feel completely his.

"I want to hear you," he breathes, his lips brushing against your ear. "Don’t hold back, sweetheart. Let me hear those pretty sounds." A soft moan escapes you, and he rewards you with a deep thrust, dragging another breathless whimper from your lips. His grip tightens on your hips, his control slipping as your body molds to his, meeting him perfectly. "That’s my girl," he praises, voice thick with need.

The heat in your stomach tightens, coiling, building, rising higher and higher. He feels it—feels the way your body clenches around him, the way your breaths turn shallow. "You're close, aren’t you , sweetheart?"* he murmurs, a smirk in his voice. "Let go for me, sweetheart. Come around me." His fingers slip between your bodies, finding your clit , drawing circles with his thumb , pressing just right—and the world shatters.

A cry escapes your lips as pleasure crashes over you, your body tensing, pulsing, unraveling beneath him. He groans, his pace faltering for a moment as your walls tighten around him, dragging him deeper into the sensation. "Fuck—" his breath stutters, his control snapping as he buries himself to the hilt, his own release hitting him hard.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room are your uneven breaths, the faint hum of your racing heartbeat in your ears. He stays inside you, warm and solid, his body pressed firmly against yours as he presses soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, your cheek, your forehead. "You were perfect," he murmurs, voice softer now, his teasing replaced with something warmer, something deeply affectionate.

He shifts slightly, careful not to move too fast, his hands soothing over your skin. Taking care of you. "Are you okay?" he asks, voice gentle, lips brushing your temple. You nod, your body still tingling, your limbs heavy with exhaustion and warmth. A contented sigh escapes you as he pulls you against his chest, wrapping you securely in his arms.

He smirks, but there’s nothing smug about it this time—just satisfaction, love, and a hint of possessiveness. "Get some rest, sweetheart," he murmurs. The warmth of his body surrounds you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist as he pulls you against his chest. His heartbeat is steady, a soothing rhythm beneath your ear, grounding you in the soft haze of exhaustion and lingering pleasure.

"Are you really okay, sweetheart?" His voice is softer now, husky from exertion but laced with something deeper—concern, affection. His fingers trace slow, absentminded circles on your back, his touch tender in contrast to the dominance he held before. You hum a sleepy, contented sound, nuzzling closer.

His scent is everywhere , a mix of heat and musk, but beneath it lingers something undeniably him —comforting, familiar. He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. "That good, huh?" Your cheeks warm, and you make a small, embarrassed noise in response. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

His eyes—so intense before—now hold a different kind of fire, something softer, more possessive in an entirely different way. "You were perfect," he murmurs, brushing his lips against your forehead. A sigh escapes you as his hands continue their slow, soothing strokes along your skin.

He shifts slightly, sitting up just enough to pull the blankets over both of you before tucking you firmly against him again. "Do you feel okay?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine concern now. "Not too sore?" You shake your head, though there’s an ache settling deep in your muscles—a reminder of just how thoroughly he had you.

He seems to sense it because his hands drift lower, massaging your hips gently, easing any tension. "I’ll run us a bath soon," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. "But for now, just rest, sweetheart." You bask in the comfort of his warmth, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek.

The room is quiet except for the occasional crackle from the fireplace and the sound of your intertwined breaths. Then—his fingers pause their gentle strokes against your back. A beat of silence lingers between you before he exhales, almost as if gathering his thoughts.

"I meant what I said earlier," he murmurs, his voice quieter now, more serious. You blink up at him sleepily, confusion flickering across your face. "About what?" His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing over the flushed skin there. His gaze searches yours , something unspoken lingering behind his teasing smirk.

"That you’re mine," he says simply. Your breath catches. "But I don’t just mean for tonight," he continues, his voice lower now, more intimate. "I don’t want this to be just once, sweetheart." He leans in, his lips ghosting over yours , his breath warm and full of unspoken promises. "I want you."

His fingers tighten slightly against your hip, as if grounding himself in the moment. "All of you. Not just in my bed—but in my life." Your chest tightens, a different kind of warmth flooding through you now—not desire, but something deeper, something almost overwhelming.

"Be mine," he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. "For real."

There’s no teasing in his voice this time—just genuine affection, quiet possessiveness, and a rare kind of vulnerability. The words hang between you, weighty and full of meaning. And as you look up into his waiting gaze, you already know your answer.

A/N : So , this is my first real story posted on here and it is pretty long from what I have before , also like I said this the first time Posting smut , so Feedback is appreciated !💜

Tag: @onecojg

[bonefall]

the ShadowClan talk made me look through Brokenstar's BB Tags, and. a) is Lizardstripe still related to Finchflight, if you are keeping Finch-Dawn as a couple (with Dawncloud's age redux)? b) i keep seeing stuff about Snowtuft and killing kits, but i cant find anything actually detailing on that on the blog, and one of the older posts also mentions that Blizzardwing is either his son/grandson AND that Lizardstripe's mother was the kit he couldn't kill. what is all that about, im dying to know.

This is info that's scattered across a bunch of different posts, plus more deets and changes I haven't had a chance to dive into. Snowtuft committed an atrocity which would torment his victims and descendants for generations, for both its legacy and its trauma.

SO I wanna put as much of it as possible into one place for now, so you don't have to go guessing based on older posts. Especially since some of those posts are long outdated, but I haven't contradicted them yet.

To start the story of the two families, it begins with Snowtuft and the bloody end of the Crusade Era.

CONTENT WARNING; this is one of BB's darkest tales. It involves depictions of xenophobic violence, child murder, war crime, PTSD, abuse, and kidnapping. BB!Snowtuft's a bad kitty!

SEE: Kitten Stealing

(Also: After writing it out, I kinda realized this would be great as a BB entry on its own. I should come back and clean this up someday.)

PART 1: THE LAST CRUSADE

Cedarstar inherited the Crusades from Houndstar, continuing them more out of respect for her legacy than true zealotry.

He had actually been chosen as a deputy because he would run the Clan while she was off gallavanting.

He wasn't a pushover or anything, just prefered logistics. Him and Pinestar were tragically ahead of their time.

...but like other cats of his time, he was from a culture that didn't extend personhood beyond the Clans. So, he continued the Crusades.

Even though they weren't getting easier.

Crystal of Chelford had already used a new tool to carve a red future for the cats of the town...

and what were once defenseless little targets began to unite into organized, armed response teams.

Non-BloodClan "zones" got rarer and rarer.

The territory and underlings of an influential cat named Jay were among the last holdouts, so it's where most of ShadowClan's raids were launched.

And on one of these raids... it happened fast.

Snowtuft turned an alley and was ruthlessly attacked. He defended himself.

In the confusion, another assailant ran towards him. He acted swiftly.

It was reflex! Instinct! He couldn't tell what was coming at him. It was a split second decision.

He couldn't undo what had happened. The kitten was dead, next to its mother.

And the others were screaming, crying, terrified.

Snowtuft doesn't remember what he did next. He doesn't want to.

But Puffballburr does.

She used to see it every night.

She remembers her name, too-- Pixie. And her mom. And her littermates.

And the look that washed over his eyes when he realized the ragged flesh at his feet was a kitten.

Raw shock, electrifying shame, the dawning horror of knowing you've definitely done something that you're going to get punished for.

And when his white, blood-splattered face turned slowly towards her and her wailing siblings, she recognized that emotion too.

It's a very childlike response, really.

He needed to cover up his accident.

And he almost did, too. It was dumb luck that stopped him as he grabbed her tail and dragged her out from her hiding place. One of his clanmates heard the awful racket, and Pixie had survived just long enough.

PART 2: ONE OF US

They took her away, just like any other "honor kitten," but the Clan cats believed this was different somehow.

Something about the naked horror of what Snowtuft did, maybe. Impossible to ignore.

But it's not like he faced any real justice for it, not that Puffballkit could remember seeing. So clearly it wasn't very different at all.

His mate left him, and the older warriors regarded him with a distant sort of "shame." He was ostracized from many circles.

But Puff's siblings had not been "clan cats" so the Warrior Code did not apply to them. He faced social dishonor, not legal.

Ever-merciful Cedarstar did not want to "ruin" more lives.

"Not when the kit is far too young to even remember what happened," he said. But she did remember.

And her name. Her mom. Her littermates. That face.

She just knew, growing up, that she couldn't know about it.

Because Snowtuft was always right there, just around the curve of the den, just behind the cover of the rose bush thorns, listening.

They're ALL Snowtuft.

To admit she remembers it is to admit she isn't one of them. And if you're not one of them, the law does not apply to you.

As a kid, she couldn't articulate it. But she understood it.

Deep down to her brittle, kittypet bones. Her filthy, stillwater blood.

The ungrateful heart that beat in her chest.

Fear expressed as a constant, calm obedience of authority. A permanent dread, as if living in a pack as a sheep in wolf's clothing

So she was quiet, notoriously so.

Whoever her foster was, Puff was like a little white shadow. It's where the warrior name came from, eventually-- a puffball clinging to someone's fur. (after writing this though, half of me wants to start calling her Lambfur or Lambfrost.)

ShadowClan plunged into the Campaign Era with Heatherstar's invasion of the Mothermouth Moorland, and the massacre of some kittypet family became awkward history. Those old enough to remember still kept a distance from Snowtuft... but war took its toll.

War means death and those older members of the Clan are not replaceable.

Younger cats weren't there to see the horror of what Snowtuft had done... and time would make him bolder.

Finding growing sympathy in his apprentices, spurred on by the hardening of the culture in tandem with the official birth of Thistle Law, Snowtuft started to change history.

The official Educator of ShadowClan (still unsure who this was) had one story, and Snowtuft had one too.

"Details" were quietly changed in his. They weren't "kits" but "young cats." They charged out to aid their mother. Then maybe she wasn't their mother. Who knows.

Pullball's name was left out of these stories, on both sides. No need for the kittens to know that she wasn't one of us.

And if she was? That's a good thing for her. Living the life of a Clan cat.

He wouldn't share if "he wasn't asked," but all of his actions, his language, was a silent plea to be asked.

He wanted to forget the whole thing, because of his nightmares, his constant shame and punishment, how hard the whole ordeal made his life-- but he couldn't so it was constantly coming out of his mouth.

There was a deep resentment on his end, towards Puffballburr. How she was part of the Clan now, always reminding him. Like it was her fault.

In the end, Snowtuft didn't blame himself. He blamed everything else. The guilt was killing him a little bit every day...

But not as much as that WindClan cat's claws did. Those killed him a lot in one day!

But Snowtuft's death didn't bring Puffballburr any peace. She just felt... annoyed. Which was strange to her-- she should feel relief, but, she didn't. She was just thinking about how the next battle with WindClan would be harder without an extra set of claws.

PART 3: GOING HOME

Puffballfur is the queen of low empathy, and her emotions are... hard to predict.

Not in a chaotic sort of way, but in a "Huh, interesting, I didn't think that of all things would get me going" sort of way.

She both lives in constant "fear" but also a persistent banality. It's kind of like being in a cage with a chained tiger, but you've marked the exact spot on the floor where the tiger's chain ends.

Imagine getting nightmares that stop you from sleeping, but you know that they aren't going to come true. So you lay there with a throbbing heart, mostly feeling annoyed that you're going to be tired in the morning.

That's her life.

Sometimes when she couldn't sleep, she'd roll on her back in the nest and critique the assassination attempt in her mind.

Did he think his dumb plan through? Or did he just react without thinking? It was going to be obvious he killed a bunch of kids, whether she survived or not.

Or maybe he would have just said that the rogue killed her own kits to prevent them from becoming Clan cats. They'd probably believe that.

Either way it was sloppy. Could have had more kits if he didn't kill her sibs.

She had connections within the Clan. A foster, hunting buddies, apprentice. She was kind to them, especially when they were useful. But...

It feels like she's not like them. Like they have variables to their behavior that she doesn't. Drives and desires that are pointless, sometimes even frustrating.

Like the concept of "honor." Ridiculous. Every single person who talks about it is hypocritical about it in some way, and it causes unnecessary fights in the camp and on the border because of ridiculous ego.

She just performs it because the other cats value it-- and when people like you, you get what you want.

I'm not sure who her mate was, or if it was even just one. In any case, when she found herself pregnant, she declared Queen's Rights. I feel like she might have had a fling with someone, but got annoyed by their clingy behavior.

When her daughters were born, Bracketkit and Lizardkit, she felt pride.

Because... they didn't belong to someone else. They weren't even really ShadowClan's. They were hers.

For the first time since her mother and littermates had been taken away from her, she felt like she was looking at family. People who would always be with her.

But that didn't last...

...because a chance encounter only a few moons later reconnected her with someone who remembered her.

Not a littermate, but an older sister. Marmalade. She couldn't believe that Pixie was alive.

This is a WIP zone because I'm not sure, yet, if I'm keeping Hal's attack on ShadowClan. In any case, they continued to reconnect for moons.

The fact that she was remembered, that she could talk openly about what happened, and that Marmalade wanted her and her kittens to come home made Puffballburr's stomach flutter with excitement. She felt valuable.

And with the war getting worse and worse, this was absolutely the best choice for her kittens as well. They would be safer with BloodClan than they would with ShadowClan.

No longer would she be Puffballburr. Her name was Pixie.

ENTER: LIZARDSTRIPE

Puffballburr wasn't a bad mother, but it would feel a lot better to be Lizardstripe if she could have the simplicity to just say she was.

Her earliest memories of her mom and her sibling were outside of the camp on a cool, clear spring night, laying in soft marshgrass. Puff was laying on her back with her hind legs bowed out, a kit tucked under each paw, pressed to her fluffy, warm chest. Her face was turned upward, quietly, at the moon, as her daughters slept peacefully.

She's not sure how long after she'd opened her eyes that this memory took place, but Lizardkit looked up towards the bright, starry sky... and she remembered that the light hurt.

Her needs were always taken care of, but Puffballburr hated explaining things.

You learned quick to treat your questions like a valuable resource, and to listen carefully.

Lizardkit was sharp, much sharper than her sister. She caught onto the way that her mother viewed relationships in a very transactional sort of way-- and stayed aware of her balance.

And had to consider the cost of doing the things her mother was fond of, versus what the other kittens and queens in the nursery expected of her.

What Puffball didn't realize when her children were born was that they were family, but they were also ShadowClan. Even if this was not something she had ever felt a connection to.

Deep down, it didn't truly click with her that her children were not extensions of herself.

And when Lizardkit was a child, learning history from the Educator and getting involved in more of the Clan's goings-on, Puffballburr spent less and less time with her. Because she was reconnecting with Marmalade.

When Bracket and Lizard had their apprentice ceremony, Puffballburr was not there.

Lizardpaw's mentor was the infamously powerful, chaotic fighter, Finchflight. Bracketpaw was assigned to Brackenfoot. (There is an earlier post suggesting that Lizi and Finf were going to be related. I decided to make them mentor/apprentice instead.)

Finchflight immediately began to stress the importance of loyalty. Being one of the younger cats who had sympathized with Snowtuft and knowing the secret behind Puffballburr's beginnings, he nurtured a pain within Lizardstripe. Encouraged her to let the distance between her and her family grow.

Eventually, Puffball told her children that they were going to leave ShadowClan. They had family in the town, would be safe there, could start a brand new life together.

And Lizardpaw was shocked.

It was like everything Finchflight had said was true.

And they were going to leave her.

She reacted violently to the suggestion, attacking her mother. Told them that she was going to expose them, lead a patrol right back to their new hiding place, bring them "back home."

In defense of Puffballburr, Bracketpaw brawled with her sister. They fought viciously, until their mother separated them with a desperate, devastating whack to Lizardpaw's head.

Laying dazed on the ground, she heard an apology before passing out.

When she woke up, she was safely protected within a blackthorn bush-- with a nick on the outside of her ear.

She stayed out there for hours, not knowing what to do, where her family had gone, or what she was going to say when she got home.

But, looking at her reflection in a puddle of water, she became so angry at the idea of this being her first scar that she ripped the other ear, on the opposite side.

When the search party found her, they asked what had happened to her. If she had seen her mother or her sister, or if something had gone wrong.

"Nah. Took a nap to get away from them. Ripped my ears on the thornbush."

Later, when she would be interrogated or questioned by people she didn't want to lie to, she would tell a half-truth;

"I did it to myself. Liked how it looked. Last I saw of Puffballburr and Bracketpaw, they were upset I'd done it and left, so I took a nap."

She didn't mind that her Clanmates thought this was weird. She didn't care about whispers that it was all done for attention, or that it was dishonorable to do such a thing and they probably met a predator after storming off, and she didn't even mind the gossip guessing at the "real" reason behind her ripped ears.

The only people who ever got the whole truth were the Forget-Me-Nots. After their disappearance, Lizardstripe didn't talk about her family for years, insisting upon having no further details. Even if it meant that mystery and suspicion would hang around her like a cloud.

BLIZZARDWING: KIN OF SNOWTUFT

Snowtuft's daughter was named Lilyfur. She was a kit when her father slaughtered Pixie's family.

When her mother left her father, she also distanced herself from him. This was something Snowtuft was outraged and saddened by.

But Lilyfur's mother couldn't stand the idea of a kitten-killer trying to stay close to her daughter. How could he look at little babies, the same age as his own child, and kill them?

Lilykit grew up very conflicted. She remembered how much she loved her dad, understood that he was a kitten murderer, but he continued to be so kind to her into adulthood.

It was hard to think of him as someone who could do something so horrible.

Earlier draft had Lilyfur die and her kittens were raised by their kin, Snowtuft, but I'm currently leaning towards Lilyfur being alive but just letting him be an active part of their lives-- in spite of her discomfort.

Because the more time he spent in her life, paradoxically, the more obsessed he became with all the "time he lost out on."

Which ended up including entertaining a lot of conversations about how he'd never done anything wrong, ever, and everyone was mean to him.

Lilyfur: "ok maybe he's not evil but my dad is really annoying <:/ but he's really lonely. He needs me. and i cant take him away from his grandkits"

From this, what Blizzardwing absorbed was the idea that love and forgiveness was always tolerating your family no matter what. This would express itself in his toxic relationship with Hollyflower.

But Blizzardwing now has a sibling. I haven't settled on a name yet-- but I'm playing with him either being Angelshade or Silkflower.

I really like the name "Angelshade" as a reference to the notoriously deadly white mushroom, the Destroying Angel. But also. someone in the audience asked if I could give the prefix "angel" to a cat because it's their name, and I feel a little bad about giving it to a character who is going to be one of the nastiest little background characters in all of BB lmaooooo

i'm so sorry angel (positive), is it okay if there's an angel (derogatory)

ANYWAY, Untitled Blizzardwing Sibling grew up adoring his grandpaw.

Radicalization can be a slow creep. He loved peepaw, so if he was asked when he was young, he would happily repeat the adjusted version of history he was taught.

And then when Snowtuft died, he wanted to remember him fondly. The story slowly changed, becoming more "accurate," just getting more comfortable with the idea of dehumanizing outsiders.

So what, if he killed some kittypet? And if some kits had already been indoctrinated into their kittypet life? It was still a gain for ShadowClan, in the end.

One summer day, without warning, he came home with two little kittens. One was white, one was brown, both had the pinkish tinge of poorly cleaned blood.

He grinned playfully at Brokenstar, and claimed Queen's Rights in a singsong tone.

Because of that rite, no one could ask where he'd gotten those kittens from. But everyone knew he'd done something grim.

Those kits, Whitewater and Brownstone, grew up under the crescendo of Brokenstar's reign, both taking part in the WindClan Massacre.

Whitewater's bloody story includes joining Mudclaw's Rebellion, giving birth to three kits, a souring relationship with her son, condemnation to the Dark Forest, ends in the Battle of the True Eclipse after killing her grandson.

Brownstone's tale includes a relationship with a WindClan cat during the bloodiest period in the history of their two Clans.

And their father's story ends in Chelford, after being exiled from ShadowClan by Nightstar. His canon counterpart is the Unnamed White Rogue from Rise of Scourge, who tries to order Scourge to be his personal servant.

(the other two cats are Braketail, the "Offbrand Brokenstar" pale tabby, and Pirateheart, the gray rogue with green eyes. Glitch Warriors for the pile!)

[stariekis]

He was a fairy.

pairing : uni stu!jungwon+ uni stu!fem reader . genre : fluff . cw : none i think . wc : 3.2K + text

check my other works ₊⊹⁀➴ masterlist

— synopsis : your boyfriend has a pretty big surprise to you, what if he changed his hair color without telling you ?

— uri's note : oh i'm so back guys ... what a better way to start posting again than making a blonde won au my shayla💔 i'm obsessed i swear :| n e ways i really hope you like this as much as i like it <3 love u all

When you got home after class you saw that your boyfriend Jungwon texted you not so long ago. You answered as soon as you entered the dorm.

You put your phone down and run to your bathroom to get ready. A surprise? What could it be.. Jungwon has always had a pretty big mouth and he was never able to keep any secrets, at least not from you.

And not only that but he also planned a whole picnic date for you, today was going to be and interesting day to say the least.

You choose to wear something comfy for the picnic; some baggy jeans and one of your jungwon’s hoodies. "Well, how do i look ?" — you asked your roommate. She looked at you and mouthed a silent ‘you look pretty’, you smiled at her compliment and hoped that Jungwon would think the same as her.

You took your keys, your bag and exited the dorm for the second time today. But this time you were actually happy to do that.

You reached the park near your school, where Jungwon told you to meet him. You sat on one of the benches and waited for your boyfriend to appear.

Not much time passed when you felt a pair of arms hugging you from behind, followed by a silent ‘hi baby' and a kiss on the cheek. Once he let go of you you turned around to look at his pretty face, the same one you've been missing the whole day.

"WHAT THE FUCK JUNGWON?" — You jumped on your seat, hands covering your mouth. You thought your eyes popped out of your skull.

So that's the surprise. He changed his hair color. His hair was now. Blonde.

He laughed at your reaction, he didn't think that you would react like that at all. Standing now in front of you he took your hands and made you stand up facing him, your face still reflecting pure shock. "So you don't like it ?" — He pouted, his hands resting around your waist as he pulled you towards him.

You touched his hair, admiring how incredibly good he looks. "Jungwon — you gulped — This is the hottest you've ever looked in your life" — As soon as those words leave your mouth he started laughing again and, taking your face in his hands, he kisses you.

"I'll take that as a yes" — He said as he pulled away. After that he took your hand and guided you to the spot he chose for your picnic date. As you walked there you couldn't stop looking at him. He looked ethereal, like a fairy, he was actually a fairy. You swear you just fell in love with him allover again.

Once you both settled everything down it was almost time for the sun to set. The rays of the sun reflecting on his face, you swear he couldn't get any prettier, but seeing him glowing like this proved you wrong.

You were able to take your gaze away from him for a second just to find a pretty little blue flower next to you. You took it and while looking at it an idea crossed your mind. "Baby — You called him. His head turned to look at you, a smile adorning his face making you melt at that same spot. Come here" — You patted the spot next to you. He got up and sat down right next to you, the closer the better, his shoulder even brushing again yours.

You took the small flower and decided to put it in his hair. He smiles at you while you did that. If you think he is pretty he feels like the luckiest man ever every time he sees you, thinking about how he managed to date someone as magical as you are.

Once you're done you pull away, admiring his face. "You are the prettiest boy I've ever seen in my life, my pretty boy" — You said while caressing his cheeks that were now tinted with a light pink blush. "I told you i'll call you that" — he smiled at your comment while shaking his head.

After that he finally decided to close the small distance between you, kissing you softly. He pushed you gently making you lay completely in the blanket he placed under you both without breaking the kiss.

He pulled away, for your dislike. Resting his forehead on top of yours not wanting to be completely apart from you he whispered a small ‘i love you’ to which you answered the same way as him.

You both laid there, the sun was nowhere to be seen now and the sky was now decorated with tons of stars that reflected in his pretty eyes. This day couldn't end better than this.

tag list : open . send an ask !

[hungry-eel]

After one year Update

warning contains spoilers

So it really has been some time Since I have made this post. It is probably one of my favorite posts that I have made as well as one of my more well known. As of currently it has now been more than a year since I made this post, and one of the few things that hasn't chanced is my love for Cassius, if anything, it has only strengthened since the post!

Not long after creating the post, I figured out how you could play Granblue Fantasy, and since I began to play more, I wanted to do what I could to not only get Cassius but also discover more about his story and lore which made me love him even more than I already did.

I might as well use this opportunity to take some time, and tell more about what I found out about Cassius' lore, and his lead up to becoming the glutton he is currently. To make things both easier for me and to help fit this post, I will only primarily be going into the most detail in moments where food or eating is involved, if you ever wanted to know more about his character, I can show you where to access the stories.

Lore summary:

So the first story that Cassius debuted in was in Second advent from the society storyline. Though the event story itself doesn't feature that much if any moments with him and food, it does set up more of his background and who he was before becoming a glutton. Cassius was an agent for the moon, which are antagonists for the society story, and was originally sent down to retrieve data for the moon. By the end, with of a combination of his cover found (he doesn't do that great of a job being undercover) and injuries that he had sustained, he had to stay in the sky world. Cassius also thinks about logic over everything else, and everything including his diet, decisions, and battle plans are based on if they are logical or not, and is likely not likely to do the action if deemed illogical

Cassius' SR fate episode is the first moment we really get to see Cassius having food, and what is essentially his introduction to it. The first part involves Beatrix, one of the society members and Cassius' biggest enabler, offering him a loaf of bread to eat after he had expressed that he was hungry. During such she also slathered jam of multiple different kinds across the bread so now it is is one big jelly sandwich. Cassius is reluctant but accepts the bread, and he ate it all with pleasure.

The second part involves Cassius trying ramen for the very first time. He is very skeptical at first, given that it is much more unhealthy than the lowest ranked meals on the moon, yet something keeps drawing him to have more, and keeps returning to the restaurant daily for more ramen, and establishing his ramen addiction.

The next event he would be featured in would actually be a summer event called Cappa Summer Chronicle. Though this event is much more of a filler event, it does feature Cassius trying and eating a large variety of different foods such as rice balls, to candy apples, and Sushi. Trying different kinds of foods, and going to the various food stalls are one of the things he is most excited to do as well.

The next event story he would be featured in is in Spaghetti Syndrome where the main plot involves the moon now wanting Cassius to return, so in order to do that a bounty is set up on him. Like with the previous event, there isn't too much moments where Cassius is eating, but there is a scene where Cassius and Eustace go out to lunch together in which they get omurice, and then afterwards proceeds to overanalyze its taste. There was also a heartwarming, yet funny moment where Cassius did eventually had to go back to the moon and on the trip there, and during that time, he would have flashback memories to the times he was with his friends, and over half of the instances were quite literally food related such as his first time trying jam filled bread, or characters inviting him to look at food stalls.

The next event Home sweet moon, is the main climax of his story where now that he is taken away to the moon, his own people are dissecting his brain and memories, that way they can use his skills and experience on other weapons. Beatrix makes a remark saying that once Cassius returns to the sky realm, states that once he touches the ground the first thing he is going to do is find something to eat, and that statement was also proven true where once he is finally rescued and returned to the sky realms, he wants to eat immediately after someone mentions the word restaurant. He wanted to eat spaghetti in particular as it reminds him as it reminded him of his brain (note he is really bad at jokes).

Post Home sweet Moon:

So after home sweet moon this is where we see more of Cassius settled into his skin, meaning he become much more of a glutton and food addict than he already is. Most I will be mentioning is ether events that have him involved or fate episodes with the exception of Ramen travels given that I already gave a summary of that in my original post.

SSR Fate Episode - This story is honestly really sweet and enduring and is probably a really good epilogue to conclude Cassius' current arc. He invites Lyria, Vyrn, and the MC to go out on a walk with him, and together they would go out and get some of the first he had tried upon arriving to the sky world, Jam filled bread and Ramen. By the end he says that he doesn't really have a logical reason for inviting his friends out for the day, and is also aware that the things that he is eating is unhealthy for him, but is doing these things because he wants to. He finds peace in himself finally being capable in having his own autonomy and decision making outside of his previously set beliefs.

SSR Valentines fate episode - so this one is one of the few Cassius stories that I haven’t read through to its fullest since I don’t have his valentines unit yet. However, from what I can remember Cassius is introduced to the concept of Valentine’s Day chocolate, and tests out why that is the case by making chocolate himself with some children at an orphanage. Also knowing Cassius, he also practically eats most of the chocolate while making it.

Sandalphons Valentine fate episode - Likes with Cassius’ valentine episode, I haven’t fully seen this one in game, but Cassius is heavily featured in sandalphons valentine story as well. In the case with this one, sandalphon learns how to brew various amounts of coffee, while Cassius consumes them with pleasure.

Also quick update but Christmas treated me well because just as I was writing this, a new years event has released called Rowdy Ramen Rumble that features both the return of Cassius, but has him gain weight again! The story is also much shorter than the other ones, but to give a quick summary, Cassius is "kidnapped" by a group of gourmets and essentially force feed Cassius ramen so he can be a taste tester for creating the best ramen. once his friends come and rescue him he eventually changes his mind and help the people who caught him which kind of ramen is the best one.

Conclusion:

Never in my lifetime would I ever expect to be this dedicated to a character to this extent! He’s an incredibly fun and complex character to go through and being that he is both a glutton and has canonical weight gains is the icing on top!

There still many other small stuff that I wish I could share but it would only make this post much longer than it already is. Besides, I highly doubt that this will be the last post I ever share of him.

Either way, thank you so much for your interest and dedication to this post. It always makes me happy that I am able to bring interest to a character that is otherwise very unknown, even within this community!

"The biggest gacha game glutton doesn't exi-"

I am still very new when it comes to granblue fantasy, and as of right now I do not know all that much about the series, and I still won't know that much given that its a pretty old game that I can't access, and haven't head of any recent updates as far as I know. So because of that among other things, I hadn't really known about Cassius or his event story. (Correction: the game is still active and getting updates, just not as much on Cassius)

It wasn't until I was scrolling through some tumblr blogs (which @askbloatedbellyblog thanks for sharing the post that sent me down a spiral) and once I discovered about Cassius and his event story I was hooked! Not only is it one of the only visual novel/gacha games that I have seen so far that actually has visuals of the actual weight gain itself, but its also not done as a one time gag either and we get prolonged scenes of Cassius' overweight state. The story itself is also so good in my opinion! Although the actual content itself my not cater to everyone and their desires, for me, I think the story is one of the best!! It fulfills all of my stuffing fantasies and desires, watching him endlessly devour and gorge on everything that is around him, and finding enjoyment in doing such as well!

No joke, I was so invested in this character and his event story that for a good portion of time that was all I could think about! I wouldn't be surprised if this becomes a bit of a mini hyperfixation for me.

To know more about my research on Cassius himself and his gluttonous pursuits, he is fairly new to the setting as he came from another world, and is leaning to discover both this new world, and how everything works. Along with such he applies ration and logic to everything with very little emotions, isn't surprised by much, thinks very literal mindedly, and comes across as childish and naïve.

His other most notable feature is his HUMONGOUS apatite, and how he is able to eat much more than the average person. He has a very high metabolism so he is able to eat in mass quantities without risking his heath or gaining weight. However, during the Ramen Travels event, he manages to eat so much and in such crazy amounts that not even his metabolism could keep up with him, leading to his eventual weight gain.

Although his original purpose was to try out various ramen noodles, his pursuits evolve into eating everything that he can as much as he can. To give a bit of a perspective how much he actually eats during this event, he hits up multiple desert stalls, wins a food eating contest, tries various kinds of ramen, eats entire menus in restaurants including the main courses, drinks, and deserts, eats whole dishes made to serve a family of six in one sitting, and repeats that behavior consistently every day for weeks on end.

Another part of his endless gluttony is also how Cassius also took the term "There is always room for desert" too literally and came to the belief that no matter how much he eats, there will never be enough food for him to eat, and that there will always be room in his stomach to eat and try more foods.

When it came to his eventual weight gain, although the people around him are concerned about his overall heath encouraging him to lose the weight, Cassius himself doesn't mind the weight gain at all and if anything he actually enjoys it, believing that the feeling itself is satisfying, and that the more weight he puts on the more room he will have for food.

This is a man where if he is not calculating and questioning the things around him, the only other thing that is on his mind is food, and although it may make him seem one note, I find this aspect of him to be a really charming trait of him, especially these are traits that he fully embraces, and not even afraid of gaining weight, which is an unusual trait in other foodie characters.

It honestly saddens me to discover that Cassius barely gets any recognition in general, especially compared to the other characters that I enjoy, and now because he hasn't had that much new content in a long while, he has only barely had any new posts and content made on him in years, so I thought if there was anyone who could bring this wonderful character back in the spotlight, even for just a brief moment, I might as well do so.

Last thing, but if your ever wanting to read the full story for yourself, here is the link to the video down below. Know that the video is incredibly long, but is absolutely worth the watch!

[loca4moony]

Loving schemes

Hi! This is my first time posting here. I want to thank the sweet @ellecdc not only because she was so lovely to encourage me to share when I was (maybe still are) shy and nervous about it, but also because I was inspired by her, her writing and her gorgeous portrait of Barty 🤍.

Barty Crouch Jr x reader | 560 words

The one with Barty feeling down and reader comforting him.

Masterlist <3

Mornings at Hogwarts were never quiet, much less if Barty was by your side and, let's be honest, when wasn't he?

To an outsider, you were having a normal breakfast. Barty made your and his drinks while you stuffed a shared plate for both of you to eat from.

But none of you were outsiders, that's why Evan looked around protectively, Dorcas tried oh so hard to make your boyfriend utter a single sentence instead of the occasional nod, and Regulus and Pandora kept brainstorming as quietly as they could the reason behind all of this.

You touched Barty’s thigh hoping he would look at you. He tensed. One, two, three you counted until he finally relaxed. He looked at your hand, never your face. Something was definitely wrong.

“Barty, baby, can we skip classes today? I feel a little under the weather” You tried.

Mhm is all you got as an answer, but he took your hand in his and started walking back to his dorm.

Once you got there, he took off your shoes and grabbed comfy clothes for both of you.

Before he could begin with his, as he liked to call it, ‘treasure caring 101’, you stroked his arm and said - in the most calming voice you could muster - “Can we lay down first? I want to cuddle” while pulling him to lay on top of you.

After a minute of scratching his head, he finally whispered “Why are you doing this?” “Because I love you Barty. I'll always be here for you, as long as you'll have me.” With that he looked at your face with something that could not be described as nothing but awe.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked, continuing when he nodded the affirmative “The very first thing I loved about you is how ‘too much’ you are. You know… talk, help, smile, read so much.”

You could tell that he was in shock. “How did you know I'm feeling insecure about that?” “Well,” you joked “maybe you won't believe me but some people think I'm a witch” you whisper as if you were telling him a secret.

Although he gave you the faintest smile, it was enough to make your heart jump in your chest. In return, you gave him a bone-crushing hug. He never felt more loved in his life.

You laid like that for what could have been twenty seconds or twenty years. “Not everything is fixed though…” he said with his usual mischief in his voice.

“What happened?” You asked, finally feeling like you could breathe again.

“Well…you told me that you didn't feel well and I know it was just a scheme to get me into bed with you”

“And help you and be there for you,” you interrupted “but okay”

“So you lied to take advantage of me and I think I need something in return. For the trouble, you know. And for the pain it might have caused me. I think I deserve a kiss” he said as if he didn't only have to ask for you to kiss him for hours on end.

“Mmm…” you pretended to think “how about three? Just in case you know, I wouldn't want to leave you wounded.”

“I think that's fair”

And let's just say you kissed him a lot more than three times that morning.

Thank you so much for reading <3