#this turned a little philosophical

[kingkat12]

feeling (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, fingering, voyeurism, semi-public sexual activities, smoking, teasing, praises, Roman shouldn't be allowed on school grounds

summary: you've finally mastered the art of feeling nothing at all. emotions don't serve you, they're painful, and everything about them downright suck. however, what happens when you're suddenly faced with the fact that feeling can feel... good?

word count: 3,200

a/n: hey luvs!! I've always hated being someone that feels everything deeply and painfully, even the smallest things, so I wrote the start last night just to get it out of my head, but... you know me, it spiralled, SORRY!!! tihi oh well, enjoy!<33

Everything in life had to be a fight. Always.

Living could be so painful sometimes. Feeling was exhausting. Therefore, it was easier to shut down all my emotions instead of dealing with the overwhelming pain cramming itself down the veins of my forearms, ripping through the vessels of blood at the tips of my fingers with every bad thing that happened in my life. 

If I could walk around with a sign saying 'I'm not trying to be mean, I just don't care enough', I would. People always assumed I was a piece of shit due to my inclination never to smile. However, the sign would make me more of a freak at school than I already was, and I had an inkling that I shouldn't dig myself a deeper hole than I already had. High school was hard as it was, why complicate it further?

My lack of social indulgence left me rather lonely. Not that I cared. It was easier this way-- I didn't have to pretend to be bearable to be around. I didn't have to smile, I didn't have to laugh, and I didn't have to fake anything in the world. 

However, I wasn't allowed to live peacefully on my island of isolation. Every so often, a little boat would float by the shore and ask to park by the dock for a short break, to rest from its travels and seek momentary company, despite the fact that I hadn't sought this out whatsoever. And to make matters worse, the boat would do so every day, with its voice calling louder with every passing of the sun and moon-- eventually, I had to relent. 

So here we sat, on my island of isolation, also known as the empty bleachers. Roman pulled two cigarettes out of his box and placed them between his plush lips, lighting both at the same time. It had become a ritual of sorts, where he'd approach whenever he saw me at school and sit with me in silence for a little cigarette break. When we first started running into each other like this, he would try to small-talk, but this died down when he pieced together that silence was the best for us both. 

We needed the time away from everyone, Roman probably more than I. He handed me the cigarette, and we exchanged a short nod at the other with the exchange.

Someone wise once said that you learn something new every day. Because after all this time watching his extroverted social life from afar, wondering how he had the energy for all the people around him all the time, I realized there was only one other person in the world that understood the wish to surrender of a full-body shutdown as well as I did-- and that was Roman Godfrey. 

And that was why he sat here with me, smoking in silence.

Still, after all this time, I never knew why he sought me out. Why he had approached at all the first time, and why he had chosen me. Was it maybe that he saw solace in my carefree rejection of everything and everyone? I wondered whether he wished to be like me. 

And I wondered whether he knew that I wished to be like him.

I loved to watch the way Roman inhaled the first drag of his cigarette-- it was always with a small moan followed by his eyes closing, his legs spreading out on his seat, and a nod to himself. Like he had been waiting for a new hit for years. Because whenever I watched him and his ritualistic ways, I felt specks of something. The only something that didn't hurt, and didn't feel like my arms were about to rip themselves open and gush blood. 

When he didn't look, I allowed myself to smile. I could give in to it. And today, after months of sitting in silence and barely exchanging more than a few sentences about ourselves, I wanted to tell him what was on my mind. "Roman?"

He slowly opened his eyes, surprised that I had spoken. "Shit," he breathed, exhaling a ring of smoke. "You broke your vow of silence for me? I'm flattered."

I would've laughed. His tone was dead serious, yet I could see him fighting a smile. Nonetheless, I went on, but in a different direction; "Do you think we're friends?" I asked, inhaling another drag of smoke.

Roman stilled, watching me. He was surely trying to calculate the way this conversation was going, or what I was trying to get at. Eventually, he spoke; "No,"

"No?"

"No," Roman shrugged-- "You sort of remind me of this guy I once knew, Tyler. He was at every party I was at, and he always had a stash of weed with him, so we ended up smoking it on the porch at, like, every occasion. I never knew anything about him, though, so I don't think we were friends."

"And... you don't think Tyler thought you were friends?"

It looked like Roman hadn't thought about that. "I don't think he ever cared," he mumbled. "And I didn't think you did either."

I nodded to myself as I exhaled the smoke, unsure whether to keep his gaze or look away. I was scared I'd start feeling again, with the way this convo was going. "Alright then," I said, rolling the cigarette between my fingers. 

Perplexed, Roman's brows drew together. "Would you want to be friends?"

"No,"

"... Okay?" He let out a laugh which sounded an awful lot like a huff, and he shook his head as threw the cigarette down to the floor and stomped it. "Luckily for you, you've made it to the rapid round of today's quiz." Roman turned to me, nudging my shoulder. "And I'm allowing myself to be nosy, for once. So, tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why you don't want to be friends,"

It spilled past my lips easier than I thought it would; "Because you make me feel,"

A pause. It was too long. 

"Feel?" Roman looked more puzzled than before. "Feel what?"

"Just... feel. You make me feel stuff,"

"What stuff?"

"Just stuff!" I wasn't sure why it annoyed me to explain it to him. In my mind, he should've gotten it. Understood it. "It's not a particular feeling, it's just feeling in general."

Roman cleared his throat, and with his next breath, he took the cigarette between my fingers into his hand. "Ever heard of sociopaths?” he muttered, taking a drag. With the way his shoulders tensed, I couldn't make out whether he was nervous or excited. 

"I'm not a sociopath,"

"Then what the fuck do you mean?" Roman leaned in closer, yet I didn't move. Up close, his eyes were much greener, much more vibrant-- I didn't want to think about it. It made my stomach flutter. 

"You stole my cigarette..." What else was I supposed to say?

Roman stifled a laugh. "I didn't steal it. Ever heard of sharing? It stems from an emotion called caring,"

"Fuck you,"

Being so close to him was intoxicating. Stupid. Dangerous. My heart hadn't beat this fast in months-- why had I opened my mouth at all? My thoughts raced as Roman reached forward, gently placing his thumb on my bottom lip as he watched my eyes widen. A shaky breath escaped me, fanning the skin of his fingers. With a soft push that didn't meet much resistance, Roman pressed down on my lip, parting my mouth as he took a drag of my cigarette, maintaining just about the most intense eye contact I had ever had in my life. 

There was nothing I could do to move away. Not that I wanted to, anyway. So when Roman's upper lip brushed up against mine as he leaned in close, exhaling the smoke into my mouth, I was sure my heart would jump out of my chest, up my throat, and leap right at him. 

Even after I inhaled the substance, Roman didn't move away. My mind was buzzing, wondering what to do, whether to say something, whether to ask what was going on-- all I knew, was that I had enjoyed the first physical contact I'd had with another human in a while. 

"I've always wondered what it must be like to be a sociopath," Roman whispered against my lips, his thumb leaving my skin. "Do tell."

The more flustered I became, the more my cheeks burned. "I'm not a sociopath,"

"What are you, then?"

"Exhausted," I breathed. "Do you know how tiring it is to feel?"

Roman let out a huff, a laugh, as he let the cigarette burn out between his fingers. "It can be exhausting if you're feeling all the wrong things, sure. But if the feelings are good..." His voice lowered as his nose nudged mine with a teasing touch, and I could feel him smile against me as he heard the small hitch of my breath. "If they're good, you'll suddenly find yourself wanting to feel everything all at once." 

Everything indicated that he would kiss me. I couldn't believe it. My heart raced in my chest as air refused to leave me, and I could feel the drumming of my blood coursing through my veins in anticipation. This was a rush unlike any other. So I braced for it, stilled in my seat, made my mind accustomed to the thought--

Until I couldn't feel his breath falling against my cheek anymore. Until all I felt was the cold breeze of the air brushing a strand of hair away from my face. I opened my eyes only to find Roman was getting up from his seat next to me. He briefly turned to catch a glimpse of the stunned expression on my face before he gave in to a snicker. "There you go, there was my crash course," he joked. "Sorry for making you feel things again, I guess. It wasn't my intention. This was nice though." Roman motioned to the both of us-- I didn't like his tone. This felt like a goodbye. This felt like I had broken some holy contract I didn't know I had signed. "I'll leave you alone from now on, don't worry. I'll find out whether Tyler is available for cig breaks at school instead--"

I had no idea what came over me as my hand shot forward and clasped his wrist. "Don't do that,"

"Do what?" Roman was unreadable-- a part of me wondered whether he was dragging this reaction out of me on purpose. Had his skills with people brewed down to developing mastery of manipulation? 

"Did I piss you off somehow?" I tried. "Did I say something wrong?" 

Roman's brows raised in confusion. "You haven't done anything,"

"Then why are you leaving?"

He blinked. Once. Twice. "You said that you didn't want to feel anything. And since I make you feel stuff, I'm doing you a favor, no?"

Roman was a smart guy-- I had known it deep down. Still, I rose from my seat, only to be reminded of how tall he was. How handsome he was. "And what if I... want to feel?"

Silence laid itself like a thick duvet over us as we stood and stared at each other, none of us knowing when to speak or what to say.

Eventually, Roman let out a short hum as his eyes rounded out. There was an emptiness to his gaze. "I don't have any love to give," he breathed. "If that's what you're looking for, you've come to the wrong place."

That was almost nice to hear. Love would've been too grand of a start. I finally spoke; "Not that. I just... want to feel good again. I don't remember how that feels anymore," 

Roman's ears perked up. "Oh?" The corners of his mouth curved into a look I couldn't decipher. It was somewhere between intrigue and calculated success; 

"Well... I could make you feel real good, that's for sure."

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

So... I succumbed. Not everything had to be a fight, at the end of the day. 

I succumbed in a secluded part of the school library, a section Roman said nobody ever came to. He had led me down a path of stairs, past the archeology section and the biographies of famous mathematicians, and into the far corner of the philosophy area. 

It was there that he had finally kissed me, finally pulled me in by my waist, and led my back against the wall next to a whole row of books about Platon-- and it was there that he put his large hand beneath my skirt and pressed the heel of his palm into my clit through my underwear, making me gasp into his mouth. 

I squirmed, my grip in his hair tightening as I pulled him closer. Roman tasted like cigarettes and smelled like expensive perfume you'd test out at an airport when you're bored at Duty Free. However, my thoughts dulled as my hips keened into his hand, against the sweet pressure, and my heart thumped harder in my chest with every brush of his lips against mine. 

"So..." Roman whispered, his cocky smirk gracing his beautiful face. "Feeling anything yet?"

Bastard. He knew damn well. "Yeah-- Yes," 

"Good," With a rather patronizing laugh, Roman pressed kisses to the corners of my mouth. "I've waited to see you like this for so long, do you know that? Since the first time I sat next to you and you barely paid me any mind, I've wanted to see you squirm." My breath hitched as he pressed his finger into the wetness that had formed in my underwear, tapping it to test the slick. His lips brushed over my ear; "Should've done this earlier, hm? Relieved you a little, made you feel good?"

This was the most horrifying feeling of gratification ever. I never thought I'd be the type for this sort of behaviour, but I suppose life pushes you toward the direction you're destined to take, right? 

"Who would've thought," Roman purred, a small chuckle building in his chest. "And here I thought you were one of those people that don't even get horny. Bet you're the type to lay in bed and get off when you're bored." 

My cheeks burned. Burned. "N-No--"

"No? Aw, you're still fighting," And just as I thought it couldn't get any worse, Roman pulled my panties aside and eased a finger into me. I couldn't meet his eyes anymore as my hands gave into a tremble, and I clutched the fabric of his shirt as I hid my face in his chest. 

"Tell me, then," Roman whispered, reaching his free hand into the hair at the nape of my neck to pull me away from him. He dragged my head back, forcing me to look up at him as he pressed himself further up against me, cornering me as he pushed my back harder into the wall. I was panting against his lips at this point, feeling him curl his finger into my sweet spot like he had done this a thousand times before-- he probably had, anyway. I hated the jealousy that coursed through my veins, one of the emotions I hadn't allowed myself to feel in ages. He spoke with a smug grin; "Tell me what you're feeling, you little psycho."

That would've earned him a snicker, had I not been in such a compromising position. "Good," I breathed, finding his green eyes. "Feels-- Feels n-nice."

"Nice? Only nice?" Roman tsked, shaking his head. "That's not enough." And with that, he eased another finger into me, which only had me gripping his shirt harder. Being filled by Roman's fingers like this, knowing we could be walked in on at any moment, made my whole body burn with adrenaline. "Ro--"

"How many times have you thought about this when we've been smoking, huh? Don't tell me you've been wishing I'd do this shit this whole time?" Roman pressed a kiss to my ear as his fingers stroked into me, pressing into my sweet spot with a gentle rubbing-motion. 

I could only shake my head. That was the truth. I hadn't ever allowed myself to think about him like that to spare my feelings. I know I'd have been squirming in my seat, staring at the way his hair always fell over his eyes, and the way his broad shoulders sunk in pleasure with every inhale of nicotine, if I had allowed myself to think those thoughts.

"No?" he cooed, feigning disappointment with a pout. The way he was almost mocking me made my stomach flutter-- or was that his fingers? "Well, I have. Many times. I've always wondered if it'd make you talk or shut down more. Or mostly, I wondered how you'd look if I did--" Roman placed his thumb on my clit, and the added stimulation only made my eyes water with pleasure as my hips bucked into his hand once more. "This."

"Fuck--" I hissed, leaning forward to kiss his neck. If Roman wasn't going to make it easy for me, I had to shut myself up somehow. Now more than ever, his perfume was prevalent. 

He let out a small sigh of pleasure as the thrusts of his fingers grew harder, not paying any mind to the way my knees gave into a slight tremble. "God, wouldn't it be bad if we were caught right now?" he said with a laugh. "You wouldn't be known as the quiet one anymore, that's for sure." Roman pulled me away from his neck with the hand he had in my hair and scanned the look on my face. My eyes glossed over as I drowned out my moans with heavy breaths; "Fuck-- Fuck you!"

"Is that how you talk to your friends?" Roman cooed, leaning down to press a short kiss to my lips, the soft pillows of his mouth pushing me into submission. "Cause wasn't it friends you wanted us to be, hm?" 

I couldn't answer. Not when his tone made me clench around the stretch of his fingers, not when he looked this good, not when he talked to me this way. "N-No,"

"No?" 

"No!"

"What, then? Best friends?"

If I could punch him, I would. Yet I only managed to gather the strength to suppress another moan, feeling my high creep up on me faster than ever before. It was almost embarrassing how fast I was about to cum on Roman's fingers in the fucking school library. He was making a wreck of me. "Wait, I-- no, fuck, I might--"

"Ulta-mega-best-friends?" Roman only giggled as his unrelenting pace continued. "Fuck-friends would probably serve us both the most, though, hm?"

"Okay, s-sure--"

"Don't you think?"

I let go of his shirt as my body keened against his fingers, sinking down a little against the wall as I squeezed my eyes shut. The pooling feeling of arousal in my stomach made me tense up, and I prayed I wouldn't collapse to my knees-- I hadn't had a standing orgasm before. How did that even work? "Yeah," I cried. "That-- That sounds good."

Roman kissed me again as a reward, smiling from ear to ear as my muffled moans filled the empty section of the library. I clamped down on his fingers, feeling my clit pulse against his thumb as I gave in to the strongest, most intense feeling I'd had in months. 

"That's it, feel it all," he purred, rubbing me through my orgasm. 

"Good girl."

[chestersbraincell]

Mannnnn, only on roblox will you have the most profound, poignant, human conversation in a while, all the while talking to somebody with a troll avatar who you started conversation with cautiously because you didn’t know whether they would harrass you/be weird

[kondietorei]

if it walks like an angel, swims like an angel, quacks like an angel.... surely it must be an angel.

[milkweedman]

Fig and apple pie with pecan-cardamom crust. The figs and the apples were both foraged, which is always fun. Smells super good !

It was supposed to be in a pie tin, but I had 3/4 of a pound of figs rather than the half pound the recipe called for. And then needing to scale the recipe complicated the already confusing situation of reading while dyslexic. So I largely gave up on reading, and this is more inspired by the recipe than anything else, but here it is nonetheless: Fig, Apple, and Walnut Tarts. Anyway, it ended up too big to fit in a pie tin, hence the cobbler dish.

[wearysauce]

ultimately, we're all just brains swimming in soup

[soliddaddy96]

chapters will have silly titles nd then be the saddest thing youve ever laid eyes on

[astrxealis]

astarion... the man that you are.....

[mayanneaa]

domestic - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.

PAIRING : rafe cameron x reader

SUMMARY : rafe finally experiences domestic life with you.

WARNING(S) : not proofread

A/N : celebrating 2025 with softish rafe hihi (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 1.1k

masterlist.

one.

"You're doing it wrong."

You look up at Rafe, the shirt still in your hands. He's sitting on the couch, a pile of clothes next to him.

The day’s finally come—you two had to take care of the laundry. That’s how you ended up on the floor, a big basket by your side.

"Enlighten me, then."

Rafe slides down on the floor and takes the fabric from you. "You have to fold it like this," he says, folding it neatly, his face almost screaming ‘bored’.

Sun’s shyly sneaking into the living room, casting a mosaic of lights. All you can smell is the fresh laundry and Rafe's cologne, now that he’s so close. Musk and sandalwood fill the space between you two.

There are no screaming kids outside, only the faint sound of crashing waves from the beach. It feels so… right.

“What?” Rafe’s voice pulls you out of wonder, and heat rises to your cheeks when you realize you've been staring at him the whole time, “Folding clothes is philosophical for you?”

“Asshole." You playfully push his shoulder as he puts the folded shirt on one of the little towers you created. "It's just nice. You know, doing things like this with you."

He shrugs, turning away so that you can't see his face. Too bad you caught the flush creeping up his neck.

"C'mon, admit it!" You press, nudging him slightly.

"Admit what?"

You smile as he furrows his brows, "Admit you like it too!"

Rafe snorts and pulls you into his lap, making your heart flutter, "Fine. I like it. Happy?"

"You have to mean it, Rafe!" you tease, a toothy grin spread on your face.

He rolls his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching as he leans in and captures your lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, savoring the sweet taste of cherries on his lips.

When you finally pull away, Rafe's voice comes out not louder than a whisper, "Do you believe me now?"

You rest your forehead against his, a giggle escaping your lips. "Yeah. Maybe I do."

"Good," Rafe says looking over your shoulder, "Because we have a ton of work left."

You groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck. "You're the worst."

two.

You were delighted when Rafe finally agreed to go grocery shopping with you. Such a small thing, but it made you giddy regardless. Usually, he'd just order it straight to your door. It was nice, sure, but you missed the feeling of walking around the isles, looking at the list you made back home, and picking out the products.

That’s how you ended up in this little shop, standing in front of the ice cream fridge. The lights are quietly humming over your head, and the smell of fresh baked goods is lingering from the bakery section. Rafe’s beside you, his gaze set on the different packaging.

“Which one should we get?” he asks.

You sneak a glance at the piece of paper in your hand. “I mean… We technically shouldn’t get any.”

These words make him turn his head to you, a judging look on his face. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh? Well, since you’re such a party girl, pick something out while I go and search for the rest.”

Rafe huffs and you move to the other side of the store, away from the freezing air that pinches your skin. There aren't many people, other than an older lady picking out the best tomatoes and some kids debating on the candy they’ll buy.

Soon enough, your checklist is almost complete.

“Baby,” you hear from behind and you turn around to Rafe carrying three cans of ice cream.

You arch your brows as he puts them in the cart.

“I got a classic, which is vanilla,” he starts, pointing at each one, “Then this one, because you love it, and the peanut butter was new or something. We can try it out together!”

“And when do you plan on eating all that?”

He wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer with a proud smirk, “Oh, I’ve already thought about that, baby. We’ll finish the 'Gossip Girl' or whatever it's called—"

You interrupt him, getting on your tiptoes and placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

"See? Groceries are fun, told ya."

Rafe's eyes soften before he chuckles and snatches the list out of your hands. "Maybe. But we have to get the whipped cream first. Oh, we can also get some coke—"

"Well, if you'll pay we can get anything."

Rafe snorts as he pushes the cart, keeping you snug against his side. "Obviously. C'mon!"

three.

The steady rhythm of rain tapping on the open window fills the bedroom. The day's coming to an end, and you finally find a moment for yourself.

You curl up on your bed, hiding between the fluffy blankets and pillows with a book in your hand. The candles on your nightstand flicker softly, the wisps of smoke mixing with the steam rising from the cup nearby.

"Move, please." You hear Rafe mumble as he climbs the bed, an oversized shirt hanging off his body.

He settles, resting his head on your chest, strong arms wrapped around you. Then, he lets out a long sigh, like a puppy after a long day of doing nothing.

You glance down at him—his eyelids flutter, and pout forms on his lips. Your heart softens despite yourself. "The weather drained you out, huh?"

Rafe lazily shakes his head, "Not really."

He isn’t even sure what it is about this moment that soothes him, but he never wants it to end. When he's in your room, the sweet scent of your candles filling up his head, all he wants to do is to lay down with, or rather on you. To feel the warmth of your body, he longs to listen to your voice.

You smile, the silence falling between you feels comfortable. You read through the pages, becoming more invested.

Rafe absentmindedly traces lines on your blanket. He listens to the rain, and it syncs with the steady heartbeat beneath his ear.

"I like this." Before he can think again, the words slip out of his lips, breaking the silence.

You rest the book on him, giggling. "What?"

"Being here with you, Ms. Giggles Mgoo." He raises his head to look at you. There's a flicker in his eyes, and it doesn't come from the flame beside you.

"No way," you tease, and he rolls his eyes, "The Rafe Cameron tells me he likes spending time with me..."

He pouts, and you can't hold your laugh anymore.

You lean in, peppering his nose with quick pecks. Rafe smiles, his cheeks painted in a delicate shade of red.

"You're getting soft, baby." You say between the kisses, and you feel the heat rising to his face under your lips.

"Shut up..."

You press one last kiss, this time to his lips. It's so rare—to see the softer, quieter Rafe that for now only exists here, with you. And you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.

We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.

I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.

But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.

Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.

And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.

It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.

It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.

And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.

[feathersandblue]

So, full disclosure, I haven't been a Solas fan before.

I am now.

And that's because of Veilguard and the many, many ways in which I felt let down by this game.

The aspect that bothers me most is the reduction of nuance and complexity.

Rook's hero's cakewalk (because “journey” really isn't the right word) is a ready-made path that offers no deviation at all and never challenges the player in any meaningful way.

Sure, you can spend some time pondering the pros and cons of saving Treviso or Minrathous. Ultimately, it makes no difference. Rook does their best, they just can’t be in two places at once.

Same with the companion character arcs. What does it mean if you decide to you turn Emmrich into a lich? For the most part, it's idle musing. Indulgence. He’ll be happy either way, there are no real stakes. Yeah, your actions do have consequences, just not the sort of consequences that make a substantial difference. It’s the illusion of choice – reduced to cosmetics.

The problems with decisions that cost nothing is that they don’t feel like an accomplishment. They also don’t allow for character growth. Rook doesn’t change, they remain static. Even the section in the Fade where Rooks faces their regrets is easy and comparatively lightweight. Varric was killed by Solas, Harding resp. Davrin died in combat and either Bellara or Neve was abducted by Elgar’nan. It’s not like Rook’s decisions actually caused these events, it’s not like Rook actually failed through a choice they had to make that turned out to be the wrong one. Everyone was there willingly and volunteered to fight the good fight. Rook’s regrets are not about real guilt, they are about feeling sad and guilty. And that – it needs to be said – is not the same thing. At all.

At the same time, the story carefully avoids any kind of true ethical dilemma.

It's not even about the lack of mean or edgy dialogue options; that’s just a symptom. The cause is the writers’ unwillingness to let realism intrude in Rook’s fairytale – the lack of anything that would require Rook to compromise on morals, or fight temptation. Rook is never faced with any sort of moral conundrum, or allowed to act out any kind of vice that realistic characters have. In its straight-path simplicity, Rook's story is apparently written for children and people who remain child-like in their yearning for simple, uncontested truths.

Of all the sorts of conflicts that a story can offer, Veilguard carefully avoids the most realistic and (in my opinion) interesting ones: Character vs. self and character vs. society, aka, politics. The game firmly refuses to go there. To the point where it creates a completely unrealistic consensus on all sides that eliminates yet another sort of conflict: character vs. character.

If Rook and their companions would talk politics, they’d all be on the exact same side. In a two party state, they’d all cast the same vote.

I am sure that there are many players who feel comforted and reassured by that fact, who sincerely believe that this is how stories should be written. That stories should reflect the world not as it is but as they think it should be. But for everyone who likes their stories a little more realistic, that lack of meaningful interpersonal conflict, that lack of real diversity which comes not from appearance but from different cultures and opposing viewpoints amounts to a frankly cringe-worthy, artificial and juvenile surface-level interaction between characters. Or, to phrase it differently: the diversity remains skin-deep and doesn’t extend to the philosophical, and even in the few instances where it does, it shies away from the political.

Which means that the only conflicts that remain are the most boring and stereotypical ones: character vs. monsters resp. the supernatural, where all foes are evil in the blandest way (Supremacist Venatori! Fascist renegade qunari! Power-hungry necromancers!). These conflicts are resolved through exploring maps and endless, repetitive combat.

The only thing that brings a bit of nuance to the game is Solas’s story. And there is an element of character vs. character in Rook’s and Solas’s relationship, but the sad truth is that what could have been a fascinating mirrored character journey falls flat for all the reasons already explained – because where Solas is a character as layered and controversial as it gets, Rook is anything but.

Solas’s story shows how even people with the best intentions and the greatest integrity are ultimately broken by what life throws at them, both by the decisions that are forced upon them and the choices they make on their own. It shows how a prolonged war is always a sunk cost fallacy: I’ve gone this far, if I stop now, it was all for nothing.

Rook’s victories, on the other hand, come without a cost – both in terms of moral corruption and in accountability. The guilt Solas bears is real. The fight against the titans, followed by his war against the Evanuris, requires compromising his own morals, one day at a time, one century after another, he’s trying to save the world yet doomed to fail. Sacrificing the spirits to win a battle after the war has gone this far? Every single war leader around the globe would make the same decision. In fact, all of them do: They do sacrifice the lives of others if it will help them win, they do send soldies into the trenches to die, whether these soldiers want to or not, and they are rarely, if ever, truthful about the reasons why.

In a certain way, the story of the spirit of wisdom turned flesh is reminiscent of the biblical Fall of Man: the original sin. Solas has fallen, and he’s broken. In trying to heal the world, he’s trying to heal himself. The burden is too heavy, the responsibility to great, the knowledge that he is responsible for all of it too devastating. Solas’s greatest conflict is character vs. self. It has the potential to be great. In a way, it is. It’s the single redeeming quality that, depending on your interpretation of what went on behind the scenes, the writers managed to salvage from the original concept of Dreadwolf or the lone pillar that withstood all their attempts to bring it down.

Only sadly, infuriatingly, in the end, that fallen hero’s ending is put into the hands of a protagonist who judges him from the perspective of someone who has never even stumbled – not because they are wiser, braver, or kinder. No, just because the writers were gracious – or cowardly? – enough to never let them fail.

The game gives Rook a moral high ground which isn’t earned in the slightest because Rook never had to walk even a quarter of a mile in Solas’s shoes. They don’t know what they would have done in his stead, they have no idea what it actually means to see the sorry shape the world is in and know that it was your hands that shaped it. And even where Rook might actually be culpable – the interruption of Solas’s ritual that freed the remaining Evanuris – anyone is quick to assure Rook that it wasn’t their fault.

Whatever regrets Rook carries, they’re born from self-doubt and trauma response. Survivor’s guilt, mostly. When compared to Solas’s immense guilt, Rook’s regrets are, for lack of a better term, insignificant. That Rook manages to face them doesn’t mean that they are more truthful or emotionally mature, it just means that Rook’s story is a tale for children and Solas’s is not.

It’s not that I’m necessarily opposed to the idea that the player decides Solas’s fate through their actions. It’s the injustice of it all that bothers me: The player is led through a game that provides a safe space for their character, one that is devoid of any interpersonal conflict and any ethical quandary. Rooks succeeds through kindness and heroism and taking their companions on team bonding exercises.

As if Solas could have won the war against the Evanuris if he’d taken the time to take his companions on coffee dates.

The juxtaposition – Rook vs. Solas – fails, simply because of this deep divide. Rook’s story is detached from reality and yet Rook gets to be Solas’s judge, jury, and executioner. On what grounds?

As I said, right in the beginning, I haven’t been a Solas fan before. But by the end of Veilguard, I was firmly, irrevocably, Team Solas, just because I was so annoyed that the narrative put Rook in a position of moral superiority. I detested my own character. Jesus, what a goody two-shoes! I was rooting for Solas simply because his story was so much more: a genuine tragedy, a study in complexity. Rook, on the other hand, remains bland, snotty, unchanged. Untried.

The thing is, I don’t believe that my reaction was one the writers had intended. I strongly feel that they didn’t mean for me to pick up on their double standard, that they expected me to walk away fully satisfied, convinced that Rook and The Team were the Good Guys because they went on picnics and petted the griffon, their final victory well-earned and just. If only Solas had had a Team and taken care of their emotional needs – he could have taken down the Evanuris with nary a scratch!

It’s all so very disingenuous.

Rook and, by extension, the player exist in a bubble of sanitized content. That is clearly deliberate. The player is meant to like it there. (In that sense, it’s only logical that they changed the title from Dreadwolf to Veilguard.) And clearly, it does resonate with a certain kind of their player base: mostly with people, I think, who would like their real life to be a bubble too and whose only experience with moral corruption is when they find it in others.

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Folk were really into the post I made about Tandie, the zoo lion with a (then) undergrown mane due a period of time on testosterone blockers. He's having quite the glow up this summer.

But!

Did you know that manes are hormone dependent in both sexes of lion?

Let's talk about maned lionesses!

To recap the previous post quickly: the existence of a mane, and it's color, appear to be pretty heavily androgen-dependent. Neutered males or males put on testosterone blockers, like Tandie was, will drop their manes - but like Tandie, if taken off the meds, it will generally grow it back. Darker manes are indicative of higher testosterone levels, and long/lush manes are generally a good signal of a male's fitness and mate quality. Females seem to show a preference for males with longer, darker manes and other males will preferentially avoid scuffles with them. (Yes, as many comments have pointed out, that means Scar was actually a hunk. Do with that as you will.)

The fascinating thing about androgens being linked to manes in lions is that it goes both ways - females with higher levels will also grow manes!

Mane growth in females lions is most commonly seen with elderly animals who have stopped cycling and are basically in lion menopause. And they have to get pretty old for it to happen - captive lions generally only live into their late teens and early second decade, and most of the maned ladies I know about started growing manes around like, seventeen.

Not all old female lions grow manes, but some of the career cat people I've talked to said it happened to about a quarter of the females they've worked with over the years. Which... is an interesting contrast to the news articles about Zuri, who we'll meet in a bit, that breathlessly reported in 2022 that her mane growth "left scientists baffled."

Old lady lion manes are just... precious. They grow in first at the chest and then around the sides or on the back of the head, but they don’t normally get the length, density, and connectivity seen in the mane of an adult male. It leaves the lionesses manes kind of awkward, in the way I associate with very young males, and they're absolutely adorable. Prepare yourself for the photo spam.

I have to start with Daisy, because she's the only maned lioness I've had the privilege to meet in person.

I don't know exactly when she started growing her mane, but she was over 20 years old when she passed in 2019 with these luscious locks.

Here's another female at the same facility, named Adeena. On the left is a photo of her from 2021, on the right is from this spring (I think she's mid-sneeze in the photo). She turns 20 in October.

If you've heard about maned lionesses before, it’s probably because of Zuri, at Topeka. She’s the most recent one to get media coverage and she went a little viral.

(Just a side note here, but I have some strong feelings about knowledge loss in the exotic animal management world due to political/philosophical schisms. This is one of those topics where it's clear: Topeka told a reporter that the zoo had “never" heard of this happening before, but it's common enough to be well known as a thing in other sectors of the exotic cat world. There's so much expertise and knowledge being lost due to infighting between accrediting groups, and it drives me up a wall).

Anyway. Zuri had one of the best manes I've seen on an elderly lioness. It grew long and lush and she totally could have done shampoo commercials. I mean, look at this.

Zuri lived with her sister, who didn't grow a mane in her old age. Here's the two of them together, Zuri on the left, Asante on the right.

We don't completely know what's going on with these golden girls to cause them to grow manes. It's theorized to be related to the end of estrus and higher levels of androgenic hormones, although it's not clear if that's just due to lower levels of other hormones during "meownopause" or if there's something else also going on.

There was some speculation with Zuri's mane growth that it was caused by the death of the male she lived with, in some biological need to "take over the role." The zoo dismissed that idea pretty quickly, and it makes sense, although there is one other instance where I've heard of that happening before.

The cat people I've talked to say that older lionesses who grow manes don't tend to act differently - they're not taking over new social roles in their prides or anything. Sometimes they can be less active, or be a little more nervous around males, and want to be left alone more, but it was emphasized to me that those behaviors could also just be associated with the fact that manes tends to develop in elderly lionesses.

The mane growth can happen pretty quickly, as we saw in the photos I've posted of Tandie over the last year. Here's Bridget, from the Oklahoma Zoo. The left photo was taken in March of 2017 and the right in November - look how much hair she gained over six months!

The zoo did some research into what might have cause Bridget's mane growth, and found that she had elevated levels of androstenedione, which is a hormone that can be converted by the body into either testosterone or estrogen, depending. In AFAB people, it's known to have a masculinizing effect. The zoo theorized that this was the cause of her mane growth, and that the elevated levels might have been caused by a benign tumor. Fascinatingly, though, blood draws revealed that her testosterone levels were the same as her mane-less sister, Tia.

Tia is on the left in the photo below, Bridget and the beginnings of her mane are on the right. Bridget was 17 when her mane started growing in.

I don't think there's any formal hypothesis that there might be a genetic component to lionesses growing manes in old age, but it's interesting to note that one of Tia's daughters, Zari, also grew a mane. (And she grew it young! It started around age 13, interestingly, also right after their male died). She's on the left in the photo below.

And to circle back around to where we began: Tandie is related to a number of maned ladies! His father, Xerxes, was Bridget's son; Zari was Xerxes' half-sister.

Here's a few more beautiful maned ladies to leave you with. In order, Ngala, Pepper, Skye, and Dandy Lion.

Next up, and last in this lion mane series, is the story of five younger lionesses in Botswana who not only have manes but also express a range of masculine behaviors.

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A huge thanks to all the folk who shared photos of and stories about their golden girls for this post: M. Townsen, S.W. Simpson, E. Day, S. Cook, M. Stinner, M. Paul, K. Vanaman, D. O'Halloran, R. Simpson, D. Souffrant.

[chuluoyi]

✎ stupid liar

- gojo satoru x reader

no way. impossible. you couldn't possibly be jealous of gravure idol gojo likes so much now... or could you?

genre: jealous!reader vs slightly jealous!gojo, crack, and obviously, fluff !!

note: based on this post :))

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Look, Suguru~ Isn't she pretty?"

Your eye twitched at the sing-song voice, lips twisting into a scowl as you glanced at him from the corner of your twitching eye.

No. You don't care. Not in the slightest.

You stabbed your fork into your cheesecake with more fervor than necessary though.

"Eh?"

"Inoue Waka!" Satoru exclaimed with an enthusiasm that felt almost too bright. "This is her in her newest issue!"

‘Newest issue’ being a bikini special, with the said model lay sprawled in the most revealing piece possible. That indecent photo had also become the wallpaper and lockscreen on your boyfriend's phone, and he shamelessly showed it off with pride.

You steeled yourself. Again. No. It's not a big deal. You weren't jealous, especially not over some... heavily-altered picture of a porn actress!

"Ahh, she does look nice..."

You attacked your now-mutilated cheesecake again, feeling your mood plummet further after hearing Suguru's response. Now you were convinced, all men are dogs!

"—but not exactly my type," he added quickly, his gaze darting towards you. His interest lay more in your reaction, which was why he stirred the pot further: "Is she your type, Satoru?"

Your boyfriend, whether oblivious or intentional, erupted into giddy laughter like a kid. "Ehh... why of course!"

His enthusiastic agreement seemed to echo louder in your ears than it probably should have. The cheesecake, once a treat, now felt like lead in your mouth.

That's it. One more time and—

But then, Suguru's voice cut through your irritated thoughts again, clearly amused. "Well, but I've always thought real beauty lies not just in appearances but in strength of character. Wouldn't you agree, Satoru?"

You knew it, Suguru was indeed the best. You dared to glance up from your plate, curious about your cocky little clown’s response. But you really shouldn't, because Satoru, the absolute cretin he was—

"Why are you getting philosophical all of sudden?" he sullenly grumbled. "Important thing is if she's hot, then she is hot." You could have sworn he briefly side-eyed you before saying, "And no one is hotter than Inoue Waka."

Stupid. Idiot. Insufferable.

Standing up, your patience dissipated into thin air. Your brisk pace made Shoko, who was beside Suguru, to quirk an eyebrow. "Oh, leaving already?"

"I'm going back. Have a practice."

"Ehh? You didn't say?" only now did your shameless boyfriend turned to you fully. "It's still break time—"

"Nanami is waiting for me, goodbye."

You didn't look back even once, too annoyed to notice that Satoru was gawking at your words.

Satoru couldn't believe this. You ignored him. You actually did… in favor of Nanami!

He was starring daggers at how the two of you conversing so amiably across the hall. You were his girlfriend already, but he could barely able to make you look as sweet as you were with Nanami just now. You were always prickly with him!

Okay, but rest assured—with Suguru he may have doubts, but with Nanami, he was convinced he outshone him by a wide margin, perhaps even ten or twenty times over!

"Why are you sparring with him?" he was sulking when he caught you on the way back to the dorms after school. "Why not Haibara instead?"

You scoffed. "And why do you idolize Inoue Waka and not Yuzuki Tina?"

Oh, so that's what this is about. Suddenly, he didn't feel as miffed as a stupid grin split his face. "Ooh, you're looking into gravure idols too?"

"..."

"Heh, if you're doing it for research purpose, that's totally okay~"

"..."

"Pfft, you're so jealous it's so great to watch—"

You halted abruptly, your annoyance now at its peak. Facing your infuriating boyfriend, you leveled a piercing glare at him that caught him off-guard. "Gojo, from today onwards, we're having a ban."

"Whoa, hey—"

"—and in the meantime, you can print Inoue Waka out of your phone, hang her in your dorm and kiss your wall instead—"

"Just a minute!" Satoru interjected, eyes rounded with slight alarm. "Don't be too hasty!"

He looked at you, really looked at you, and saw that you were actually upset.

A twinge of... what is it? Some kind of guilt, he supposed, pricked his chest. He didn't like seeing you like this, especially knowing he had played a part in it. You should be smiling sweetly and catching his heart with it, not frowning like this.

"Hey," he started, his voice softening as a small, sincere smile crept onto his face. You continued to look away, a stubborn pout fixed on your lips. Darn it, how did you manage to look cute while angry too?

"Look at me, I'm all yours, okay?"

That got you to shoot him a sharp glance, and boohoo!—the ice in your heart thawed slightly as you met his smile, which soon evolved into a toothy grin.

But then, in one swift strike, he pulled his phone out and took a snap of your very-not-ready face.

"Satoru!" you screamed in panic, trying to climb over him to pluck his phone. "No! Delete that!"

"Ah ah," he crisply snickers, raising his hand with the phone high above where you couldn't reach. After pressing a few buttons, he triumphantly showed you his phone screen, now displaying your flop picture in all of its glory.

"That's seriously awful!" you grimaced, a look of horror in your face. "Satoru, for real—"

“You’re adorable,” he countered almost immediately, his smile wide and unabashed—the very winning smile that won your heart. “My girl is cute as heck and you know what the best part is? She’s mine.”

. . .

—okay, you were now positively melting. This was irritating, how can you forgive him this easily?

You huffed, raising your chin high to cover the very sizzling heat in your cheeks. "Hmph. Keep that photo then. But I'm still sparring with Nanami though."

"Mm-hmm, whatever. I hope his foul hairstyle won't affect you—"

"Don't badmouth him! Wait, don't tell me... you feel threatened by him?"

"Wha? Why would I!? I have the better face, better wallet—!"

Together, you walked back to the dorms, the evening air somehow felt lighter around you. Satoru's hand found yours along the way, and the two of you kept up a playful banter, followed by shared giggles afterwards.

. . .

What you didn't realize, however, was that there was another reason behind Satoru's happy laughter... his secret little mission had been a smashing success~

Epilogue

“I put too much faith in Y/N. I’m disappointed.”

“We are paying Gojo, damn it.”

Suguru and Shoko let out collective sighs, looking at the two of you. They witnessed your little outburst and that sealed everything.

You used to not give in to so easily. Unfortunately now, you were whipped for that idiot too, enough to get jealous over him.

As Suguru opened his wallet, a realization struck. “Shoko, now that I think about it… why am I always losing these bets?”

“You could just suck… or maybe," she glances him over before letting out a snort. "Your bangs just bring bad luck?”

[cognitiveoverload]

The joke (Spencer Reid x reader)

summary: Spencer's joke doesn't land with the class, but you find him cute.

tags: fem!reader

note: Takes place at the beginning of 4x08.

1/?

The light bulb joke didn’t land. At all. It wasn’t bad. Well, not that bad, but it wasn’t great either. 

The silence in the room is deafening, and it’s so ridiculous that you can’t bite back the quiet chuckle that’s been threatening to escape your lips ever since that agent fell silent. His eyes shine with hope when they find you, accompanied by a sweet smile, and while it breaks your heart to say it, you can feel the weird looks the other students are sending your way. 

“Sorry, it was just so… quiet,” you say with a hand held up.

Disappointment. That’s what you see in the agent’s eyes after he heard you say that. It breaks your heart because he looks like a genuinely nice guy, but you have a reputation to uphold. It took so much hard work to be as social as possible, attending parties and hanging out with people, all while keeping your grades up, being among the top students. You can’t let finding a cute joke come in the way. 

You don’t pay much attention to the conversation after you hear one of the idiots ask them if they have shot anyone. That must be the most original, most important question you’ve ever heard. Congratulations, moron. Instead, you pull out a book and begin to flip through the pages, but you can feel it. You can feel a pair of eyes finding you over and over again, and when you finally look up and around to see who it is, your gaze falls on the agent, whose hazel eyes are fixed on you. Just when you flash a barely visible smile at him, though, he looks away. 

After their time here comes to an end, you quickly throw everything into your bag, then head down to meet them, because you know you have to apologize. You stop a few feet away, fidgeting with your fingers as you wait for Professor Harris to stop talking. There’s time, you’re not in a hurry to get out. The agent looks at you, his eyes mirroring a moderate amount of excitement, and you can feel the heat rise to your cheek to make you blush. Stupid biology. 

Harris notices this silent exchange, and decides to follow his eyes to see who has caught his attention. When he sees it’s you, he starts grinning and steps back with an arm extended to pull you a little closer to their little circle. “Let me introduce you to one of our brightest students. She’s studying psychology, and she wrote an amazing article that was published in a journal not long ago,” he says. 

Clearing your throat, you extend your hand to them and introduce yourself, and in return, they do the same. Dr. Spencer Reid. Now you definitely learned his name, you won’t be able to forget it, because the moment your hands touched, you could feel that unmistakable spark. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I wanted to apologize for that laugh. It wasn’t such a bad joke, it was just really… awkward here,” you say, unintentionally biting on your lower lip. 

Reid shakes his head as he reluctantly, but lets go of your hand. “It’s okay. Maybe these jokes should stay between philosophers,” he tells you with a humorless laugh. 

Next to you, Harris turns to the other agent and asks him if they could exchange a few words, but seeing the meaningful looks they exchange, it’s quite obvious they only want to give the two of you some space. You adjust the strap of your bag as you wait for him to speak up, because you have nothing on your mind. It’s not that you don’t want to talk, you just don’t really know what to say. He’s intelligent, that one’s clear, what could he possibly want from you? He probably wants someone who can challenge him, someone he can consider an equal, someone older than you, someone who’s–

“So, um… your article was published at your age?” he wonders, sounding a little surprised. Maybe he’s right, you're only completing your bachelor’s studies, not everyone takes the time to do these things. When you nod, he goes on. “I’d like to read it. Can you… send it to me?” 

“Sure, if you give me your email address, I’ll send it tonight,” you promise with a smile, still a little taken aback by the fact he’s interested. He didn’t even ask you what it’s about, but he wants to read it regardless of the topic. 

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card, which he immediately offers to you. “Thank you, I promise I won’t ghost you,” he assures you.

Though there’s clearly something else he wants to say, you both turn toward the door when his colleague is calling out for him. You feel a pang of disappointment that your conversation ends before it truly begins, but there’s nothing to do about it. “I’m sorry, I have to go. It was nice to meet you,” he tells you, then awkwardly waves before walking away. 

He’s nice. And charming in his nerdy way. You can’t help but imagine what it would be like if you got to spend a little more time with him, maybe managing to coax him into joining you on your social adventures. Would he learn to enjoy it? Or is he the type who’d rather spend his time at home, reading books? Maybe watching movies or binge-watching TV shows? And would he talk about his work, tell you about some interesting cases? 

God, you’re pathetic. You barely know the guy, yet here you are, already thinking several steps ahead.

[redflagshipwriter]

Ghost Driver 5

Masterpost

Chapter Five

Danny did not succeed in coaxing Robin out of his car at the cemetery. “I have a juice box,” he lied, shaking his hand inside his pocket enticingly. “You can have it if you go home.”

“I wanna stay.” Robin pressed himself against the opposite car door. His wristwatch was flashing again.

‘If I go to the other side really fast and open the door, he might fall out.’

“Let’s go already.” Jason sounded done with both of them. He had a hand on his forehead. “If we are going anywhere. There’s no point in anything.”

“That’s a bit much,” Danny muttered to himself. He heaved a great sigh at how ridiculous these Gotham people were. This place was silly.

“It’s not pointless.” Robin plastered himself to the back of Jason’s chair, bizarre in his sincerity. He peered around the headrest. “Why do you think that?”

“Dad didn’t pick me,” Jason said nonsensically, and extremely morose.

It tugged at Danny’s heartstrings. “Want my dad?” He offered. He sat back down in his seat so he could lean over and rub at the back of Jason’s neck. Jason rolled his head over towards him.

Jason sniffled.

“Your dad would pick you.” Robin leaned forward.

Jason lolled forward and put his face in both his hands.

Robin didn’t get a clue. “He loves you,” Robin pushed. He patted the back of the car seat. “Your Dad cares so much, du-“

“Back off,” Danny hissed. He gave the kid a glare. “Can’t you see you’re not helping?”

“Of course I thought that then,” Jason warbled. “I wanted my Dad to save me.”

“This is getting dark.” Danny scratched his neck nervously. They needed to change the subject. He put on an artificially bright voice. “How about we go do paperwork and a prisoner transfer!”

Jason didn’t answer. Danny turned around to see Robin.

After a long pause, Robin gave him a thumbs-up.

“Great.” Relieved, he patted Jason’s leg and then checked his seatbelt was good. “Aight, let’s go.”

“What exactly is going on?” Robin prodded.

“Uhhh…” Danny stalled for a moment as he finally contextualized how far off task he had gone. “Well, I followed a police escort to a weird militaristic asylum today.”

“Why?” Robin interrupted.

Danny gave him the stink eye in the rear view window. “Because I thought it might have been Jason who-“

He cut himself off with a cough.

Shit. He couldn’t share Jason’s personal information with the detective freakazoids. If they figured out he was the Red Hat, they’d never stop bothering him.

“You thought he would get a four police car escort?” Robin asked. He lifted an eyebrow in a way that made him look extremely punchable.

“Hell yes,” Danny said loyally. “I believe in him. He’s capable of anything.”

“Aww.” Jason genuinely sounded touched.

Robin twitched.

“Anyway, I met this freakazoid there, total creepo, found out he keeps breaking out and I punted him to the Infinite Realms but I guess I was a bit sketchy about it? So now I need to move him to a legal holding facility and get paperwork that proves the transfer to show Mr. Police guy, because he says he can’t allow kidnapping and I think that’s fair even if it’s a bummer,” Danny rambled. “In my defense, most of the time sending people to the infinite realms for being buttheads is the most appropriate course of action. When you have a hammer you see a lot of nails or whatever. Wheeee.” He accelerated to get over a police barricade.

Jason closed his eyes again. “I think imma be sick,” he said philosophically.

“You should probably rely less on false imprisonment,” Robin said in a mild tone.

Jason immediately repeated that in a mocking tone, complete with a flapping hand to imitate a mouth. “Was I really this annoying?” He mumbled. “Jeeze. Say like, golly. Gosh. Willickers.”

Robin looked extremely offended. He was deathly silent the rest of the car ride.

‘Spoke too soon,’ Danny thought, about a minute away from his destination.

“What are you doing?”

Danny ignored his shriek and hit Robin with his head to keep the little weasel from grabbing the wheel. “I know where I’m going,” he grunted, and busted through the construction barricade.

Robin braced. Danny flicked on a turn signal. Jason sort of grimaced and closed his eyes.

No one outside the car noticed or reacted to them, because of course he had gone intangible and invisible. He wasn’t a total dingus.

“It’s a long detour,” Danny justified. The car rattled angrily over potholes. He swerved to avoid an open manhole. “And we’re out.” He flicked back into visibility and eased the car to a stop outside the police station. “Just a second.”

“…What are you-“

He slammed the door on Robin and jogged up the stairs.

A young man coming down the stairs stopped and stared at him. “Hey,” he said, nodding.

Danny nodded back. Jeeze, what a handsome guy. “Hey yourself,” he said genially. “Scuze me-“

“Sorry, can I stop you for a moment?” He flashed a very white smile. “What are you here for? Maybe I can help you.”

Danny looked down to confirm that the stranger really had put a hand on his shoulder. He removed it sheepishly. “Yeah, sure,” he said. “I was gonna go ask a cop to come with me.” He rolled his shoulders.

“…I’m a cop,” said the guy.

Danny looked at him. He looked at his car. In the backseat, Robin tried to sink down out of sight. “Wanna come with me and my new friends to get some paperwork from a ghost cop?”

Handsome guy’s whole face twitched. “I sure would. Is that Robin?” He started jogging. “That sure looks like Robin!” He said, in a voice that might have been disapproving.

The door locks clicked on for some reason.

“No worries, I can fix that.” Danny plunged his hand through the window to manually depress the locks and then opened the backseat door with a flourish. “Got a cop, guys!”

Jay groaned and gave a thumbs up. He was still covering his eyes with the underside of his forearm.

The cop was standing still to stare at Jay. His face was unreadable.

“He’s got the front seat, so you’re back here with the bird, sorry.” Danny bullied the cop into his car and then flung himself carelessly back into the drivers’ seat. “Seatbelts on?”

Two clicks came from the back seat.

“I know the rules, Danny.”

“Awesome.” He gave them all a thumbs up. “Okay, uh, I am going to…” He hit the gas hard and accelerated down the streets of Gotham. Something thunked in the back seat when he took a hard turn.

“Are you leaving city limits?” the cop asked.

Danny nodded, heading towards the highway entrance. “I can’t bother Wulf to be my personal interdimensional portal guy, he’ll start to feel used. I’m gonna pop over to the cheese mansion and take vampire Vlad’s portal to the ghost zone.”

“Do we have any snacks?” The cop leaned a bit up into the front seat. “It’s just, that sounds like a pretty long trip. Are we gonna be gone all morning?”

“I’ll stop when we get to third street,” Danny promised. “Vlad is, uh.” He grimaced. “About two hours away.”

From the backseat came a sullen: “You owe me a juice box.”

“I never said that,” Danny lied. “Officer, this child is trying to rob me.”

Nevertheless, he did stop and promise to get Robin a juice box. The handsome cop guy hopped out of the car and paused weirdly outside the store.

Danny cocked his head and watched. “Are you posing for the security cameras?” He snorted. “You look like a model.” He headed in, ignoring the bemused “thanks?” that garnered. The two of them headed in while Jay malaised in the car and Robin attempted to become a dark cloud. Teenagers, man.

“I didn’t catch your name. I’m Dick, by the way.” Handsome Guy pulled open the cold door and started piling drinks into a basket. Danny edged past him on tiptoes to investigate the chip aisle.

“I’m Phantom.” He started tossing snacks over his shoulder into the basket. “Hey, do you have money? I don’t have much money. I can maybe cover, half of this.” He grimaced. “Maybe Jay would pay me back for his share, but he’s so out of it. Birds don’t carry money, right? That bird looks broke.”

“I can get it, I have a credit card.” Handsome Guy Dick snatched a bag of superhot puffed things and made his way to the check out. “Gas?” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and obviously declined a call. His phone began vibrating again immediately.

“That would be a good idea, thanks.” Danny floated behind Dick to the counter, relieved to have a higher level adult present.

They were back on the road and about halfway there before it occurred to him that he should probably warn Vlad he was coming. Danny fished around in his jacket pocket. Nothing. He frowned. “Do you see my phone?” he asked Jay.

Jay said nothing. His head was lolling forward.

“He is out of it, my guy,” Handsome Cop Dick said genially. “Is this it?” He produced Danny’s phone.

“How did that end up back there?” Danny wondered. “Thanks, guy.” He unlocked it with his left hand and started a speakerphone call. As soon as it connected, he said, “I have guests.”

Vlad cut himself off mid what would have definitely been something like, “So you, Daniel Fenton, come crawling back to me, Vladimir Vlad Plasmy Plad, you, the son of my greatest enemy and tragically disinterested love interest.” He was just like that. The guy had no sense of discretion.

“I need to take a cop, a vigilante, and a guy I wanna date into the ghost zone,” he explained. The countryside flew by outside the window in a dizzying rush of green. “I’m on my way to your place to borrow your portal.”

“...How do you get into these situations?” Vlad sounded interested, damn him. His tone dropped suggestively. “You are constantly in situations, my lad. Perhaps it is a lack of paternal guidance-”

“Probably not,” Danny interrupted cheerfully. “But I hear you loud and clear, you have an empty nest and you’re not dealing well, say no more, I’ll send over the little gremlin and the big guy, let them know you just hit up costco and you want them to stock up-”

Vlad literally hissed into the phone. “Cease and desist. Fine.” He was outright pouting.

“Oh, you sound sulky.”

“I am going to tell your father that I want photos of you in the turtle halloween costume to put on a slideshow for investors.” Vlad’s voice dropped dangerously low. “I can convince him that there is a legitimate reason. He probably will not even ask why.”

Danny winced. “Truce,” he said. “I’ll be there in like an hour, okay? Can I take a car in through the lab?”

“A car?” Vlad shrieked. He sounded weirdly offended about it.

“I didn’t know his voice could go that high,” Danny said in a quiet aside to the car. Dick nodded. His expression was unreadable. Danny lifted his volume to explain. “They’re all humans, can’t fly, also now that I think about it I need some way to move the prisoner.” He frowned. He noticed the cop went very stiff in the backseat. Hmm. Yeah. The backseat was getting pretty full.

“...You are a disaster,” Vlad said flatly. “I will provide a more appropriate vehicle. I will accompany you.”

“You sure? I’m gonna have to see Walker. He hates you, right?” Danny switched lanes to pass a slow van. “He hasn’t told me anything, but everyone hates you, so he probably also does.”

Vlad hung up.

…fair.

[insidekatmind]

Share- Levi Colwill x reader x Jude Bellingham (love triangle)

Wearning: +18,smut

You are at a time in your life when the attention on you has become overwhelming. and everything started unexpectedly. You have always been a quiet person, far from drama and emotional complications. Yet, here you are, involved in a love triangle between Jude Bellingham and Levi Colwill. It’s clear that both of them do not intend to give up.

It all started a few months earlier, at an exclusive party hosted by a mutual friend. The music was loud, the lights were dim, and you had no idea that your life would change that night.You were at the bar sipping a cocktail when Jude came over with his disarming smile and self-confident look.

"I’ve never seen you at a party like this. You’re one of those people who likes to stay in the shadows, am I right?" He had said it in a tone that felt like defiance.

You laughed, trying to hide the blush that was coloring your cheeks. "I prefer not to draw too much attention. I’m not really... used to it."

"Well, tonight you’ll be in the middle of mine," he replied, raising his glass towards you.

You couldn’t deny that Jude had a magnetic charm. You spent the evening chatting, discovering a side of him that went beyond the footballer: a brilliant, ambitious but also surprisingly sweet boy.

Yet, just as you were starting to feel comfortable, someone else had caught your attention.

Levi Colwill had made his way through the crowd with the calm of one who does not need to hurry to be noticed. He was different from Jude: less cheeky, more mysterious. When he saw you, he approached discreetly, waiting for the right moment to talk to you.

"Is he already boring you?" he said, pointing to Jude with a nod. "What?" you asked, surprise.

"Bellingham. He has a reputation for talking too much," he added with a grin that made you shiver.

"And you? Are you one of those who speaks little and listens a lot?" you answered, amused.

"Something like that," he said, with a look that seemed to be light inside.

From that moment on, your attention was divided. Both boys seemed determined to win you over, each in their own way. Jude was spontaneous, passionate, always ready to make you laugh. Levi, on the other hand, was reflective, profound, capable of turning even a trivial conversation into something special.

In the days and weeks that followed, Jude and Levi had begun to become more and more present in your life.

One afternoon, Jude had shown up to your house on a motorbike. "Let’s go for a ride. I want to show you the city like you’ve never seen it before."

You could not say no, and that afternoon turned into an unforgettable adventure, among laughter and breathtaking views.

But just when you thought Jude had won an important point, Levi made his move. One evening, he invited you to an impromptu dinner at his house. He had cooked for you, and the way he looked at you as you spoke made you feel special in a way that you couldn’t explain.

Every moment with one of them seemed like a balancing act, a step forward for one and a step back for the other.

Things had exploded when, during a dinner you decided not to attend to take time to think about it, the two ended up arguing.

"Do you really think you have a chance with her?" said Jude, raising his voice. "She wants someone who knows how to amuse her, who knows how to live. Not one who spends time as a philosopher."

"Ah, really?" Levi replied, keeping a calm tone but visibly irritated. "Because it seems to me that she’s looking for someone who really understands her. And, honestly, it’s not you."

The words became increasingly sharp, until the two almost clashed physically. Mutual friends had intervened to separate them, but the tension was palpable.

The next day you were sitting on a park bench, the sun filters through the leaves of the trees and warms your face. You shake your phone, a little bored, when you get a message.

Jude: "Are you free tonight? I thought I’d take you somewhere you’d like to go."

You smile lightly, aware of his attempt to win you over. You do not respond in time, that another notification surprises you.

Levi: "I’ll pick you up in an hour. I won’t take no for an answer."

You’re wide-eyed, you incredulous. But are they in agreement? you ask. The situation amuses you, but it also makes you difficult. It is not easy to juggle between the insistence of two guys so charming and, above all, so competitive.

---

You’re sitting at a table in an elegant restaurant. Levi is standing in front of you, his dark eyes fixed on yours. He wears a white shirt with a slight button-down that lets you see his skin and the tuatuaggi on his right arm that made him irresistible. He smiles with that confidence which he knows to be his best weapon.

"So, did you have fun with Bellingham the other day?" asks, bringing the glass of wine to his lips.Raise an eyebrow, surprised by her direct question.

"Are you jealous, Colwill?" you reply provocatively.He laughs, shaking his head.

"Jealous? No, just curious. I want to see if he has a chance against me."

You stop for a moment, his gaze is penetrating, but you do not give in. You are aware of your power in this situation.

"Maybe he does. Or maybe not. It depends on who is smarter." you reply with a mischievous smile. Levi bites his lip, visibly amused by your challenge.

"Oh, so you’re challenging me? Are you sure you want to play with me?"

"I never play, Levi. And you know it."

His smile widens. "I like it even more."

---

The next day, Jude invites you to his house. When you arrive, he welcomes you with the usual bright smile. He wears a gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, a simple but incredibly attractive look on him.

"You’re finally here. I was beginning to think that Levi had kidnapped you." he says jokingly.He laughs, shaking his head.

"Don’t worry, I’m too smart to be caught." You reply with a playful smile.Jude looks at you for a moment, his gaze becomes more serious.

"I know. And maybe that’s what I like about you." he admits, getting a few steps closer.

You feel your heart racing, but not receding. He is so close that you can smell his fresh and enveloping scent.

"Don’t think you can have me just because you tell me to." You answer with a confident voice.

"I don’t think so. But I know I do." He answers, and his eyes won’t come off of yours.

---

The days pass and the tension between Levi and Jude becomes more evident. It all starts with small comments thrown at a distance, but soon the jokes turn into provocative looks. During a party you’ve been invited to, you find them both there, and the situation becomes explosive.

"What a coincidence to see you here, Bellingham." says Levi with a provocative smirk.

"Yeah, you here too, Colwill? I thought you were busy losing games." Jude replied, keeping the tone calm but sharp. You look at them with your arms folded.

"Are you serious?" you ask, tired of their teasing.

Levi approaches you, moving a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I’m just protecting what’s mine," he says, looking into your eyes.

"Yours? Don’t get confused, Colwill." You counter, and he laughs softly. Jude steps forward, his eyes on Levi.

"She’s nobody’s, dude. And you should remember that." said Jude looking at him badly.

The two stare for a moment. You know that things could get out of hand, but you decide to intervene.

"Stop it! I’m not a trophy. If you keep acting like this, you’ll both lose." You say in a firm tone and leave them alone.

The two continued to watch while Levi watched with a calm that was making Jude angry. "Who wins the best," said Jude, and Levi looked at him amused and then left.

---

It was a few days and you decided to go to the disco alone to get your ideas, It was one of those evenings where the atmosphere seemed magical from the beginning. You were in the elegant nightclub in the heart of London, immersed in a vortex of soft lights and pulsating music.

You were trying to distract yourself from the events of these days by not thinking about how Levi and Jude kept coming at you and how they always fought over you.

The DJ had just started playing a hypnotic mix of house and reggaeton, and you couldn’t help but let yourself go to the beat. You wore a dress that perfectly embraced every curve, attracting admiring glances wherever you went, but what really caught the eye was your energy. You danced with an innate sensuality, without any effort, as if the music ran in your blood.

At one point, you feel a burning gaze on you. You turn slowly and cross the gaze of Levi, he looked at you with an intensity that made you hold your breath. He waves a little glass at you, and your heart quickened. Before you can answer, you notice another pair of eyes staring at you: Jude Bellingham. He was on the opposite side of the dance floor, leaning nonchalantly against the bar. When your looks meet, his smile widens, and he slowly approaches, moving through the crowd with magnetic security.

You don’t have time to think. The music changes, becoming slower and more sensual, and Levi takes the first step. He approaches with a mischievous smile, tilting his head.

"Y/n as always I can’t do at least not notice you" he says, his deep voice barely overtaken by the music. "Let’s dance?"

You don’t have time to answer that you feel a warm hand on your back. You turn around, facing Jude. He is even more beautiful up close, with his dark eyes that seem to read your soul.

"Levi, you’re too slow," says Jude with a provocative smile. "She dance with me tonight."

You find yourself between two fires, but instead of choosing, you decide to have fun. "Who said I should choose one?" Answer, with a smirk that leaves both speechless.

The music picks up and you start moving, letting go completely. Levi comes to you from behind, his hands just above your hips, while Jude watches you from the front, his body coming closer and closer to yours. They dance in tune, their bodies following your movements with perfect precision. It’s thrilling, almost surreal to be the center of their attention.

As Levi touches your neck with a light kiss, you feel a shiver running down your back. " So beautiful" he murmurs, his voice so close that you can’t hear it. You let go for a moment, head tilting to the side to offer him more space and start rubbing more on his cock. But as soon as you close your eyes, feel Jude’s hands on your life.

You look up at him, and he looks at you with a determination that takes your breath away. " I waited long enough," he says, before bending down and capturing your lips in an intense, passionate kiss. His mouth is hot, and the way he holds you makes you lose your sense of time and space. Levi, however, does not back down. He keeps kissing your neck, his hands holding you tight against him as he also began to rub his cock on your ass making you moan in Jude’s kiss

The minutes seem to stop. The dance floor around you fades away, leaving you alone in a world of music, soft lights and pure electricity. When you finally break away from Jude, your eyes meet those of Levi. His gaze is a mixture of desire and challenge.

"We’re not done with you yet," he whispers.

Smile, your heart beating wildly. "I don’t mind," you reply excited.

Jude and Levi exchanged a smile without arguing for the first time. You all three went outside and looked around.

The night air was fresh as you left the disco, still immersed in the adrenaline of the evening. Levi takes the keys to his black sports car, with a confident smile that left no room for doubt. " The evening doesn’t end here," he says, opening the door for you with a gallant gesture. You can’t help but smile as you step into the car, sitting in the back seat.

Jude follows you, closing the door behind him. Before Levi starts the engine, Jude looks at you with a breath-holding intensity. "Are you sure you can hold us?" whispers to you, his voice a mixture of fun and desire. His hand touches yours, and you feel a shiver running down your back.

"We’ll see," you reply with a mischievous smile, knowing full well that you have no intention of backing away.

Levi turns slightly from the driver’s seat, looking through the rear-view mirror with a smirk. "Be comfortable behind, huh? No distractions while driving." But the spark in his eyes betrays his tone. The engine starts, and the car starts moving, gliding smoothly through the streets lit by street lamps.

While Levi is focused on driving, Jude does not waste time. He comes closer to you, his warm breath against your skin. " Do you know how hard it is to ignore you?" he whispers, her lips touching your neck. He starts kissing you slowly, with a deliberate sweetness that makes you shiver. His hands find your side, the touch light but possessive. Every kiss is like a spark that ignites a fire within you.

You try to stay calm, but the feeling of his lips and hands makes you close your eyes and tilt your head slightly to give him more space. Jude smiles at your skin.

"You like it, don’t you?" he whispers in his low, satisfying voice. You don’t answer, but the way your body reacts is all he needs to know.

From the driver’s seat, Levi raises a hand to adjust the rear-view mirror, looking at you with an accessory smile. " If I keep feeling that way, I might have to pull over," he jokes, but the

tone is loaded with subtext. " It’s not safe to drive with you guys distracting me like this."

"You drive," Jude replies, without even taking my attention away from you. "I’m just taking care of her."

You laugh slowly, trying to regain control of the situation, but it’s impossible with Jude so close. " Maybe you should focus on the road, Levi," you say in an innocent tone that contrasts the fire you feel inside.

Levi chuckles and shakes his head. "Oh, I’m thinking about it. But trust me, I can’t wait to get home to join the fun."

His words make you beat faster, and the journey to his home seems to last an eternity, every second of tension. Jude continues to kiss your neck, his touch becoming bolder, his hands touching the edge of your dress. Finally, Levi parks in front of an elegant modern house with large windows reflecting the city lights.

"Welcome," says Levi, getting out of the car and opening the door for you. His look is calm but full of promises. "We enter. The evening has just begun."

You look around for a moment, then Jude takes your hand and guides you to the entrance. Levi opens the door and lets you in first, the house lit by a warm and welcoming light. You turn to them, your heart beating like a bat.

Levi reaches you in a few steps, his confident smile makes you feel your heart beat faster. He comes slowly, his eyes seem to study you every moment, as if he is waiting for the perfect moment.

When he finally bends over to you, feel his hands gently leaning against your hips as his lips meet yours in a warm and passionate kiss.

Levi kisses with a confidence that overwhelms you. His hands are just tighter, as if to make sure you don’t go away, but you have no intention of doing so. You raise your arms and walk around her neck, pulling it closer to you as if there is still too much space between you. The warmth of his body against yours is electrifying, and the way he kisses you makes you lose any sense of time.

As you let go completely, you feel a movement behind you. Open your eyes for a moment and notice Jude coming slowly. His gaze is intense, and never turns away from you two. The way he walks, with that innate confidence, raises tension in the air. He says nothing, but the energy that emanates speaks clearly: he does not intend to stay on the sidelines.

Levi detaches himself slightly from you, just for a moment, his eyes meeting with yours as he smiles complicit. " Don’t think you’ve escaped me so easily," he whispers, his voice low and full of desire.

Levi starts kissing your neck while you moan slowly. Jude comes down behind you and lifts the dress that had made him crazy all evening and took off your underwear to then begin to kiss your thighs and you closed your eyes at the touch moaning slowly.

Levi smiled at your neck and Jude smiled at your thigh and then stuck a finger in your folds and you moaned.

Levi looks at you as he starts to pull down the shoulder strap of your dress and moves your bra while he starts to kiss your breast while Jude decides to insert his tongue into your pussy.

"Shit" you moaned as you put your hand on Levi’s hair as you watched him suck your breasts.

"So good this pussy" grunted Jude near your pussy and that made you moan again and you started rubbing your pussy on his face making him moan as he kept eating it like a hungry man.

You felt in heaven: Levi was playing with your breasts and kissing your neck while Jude was eating your pussy.

Jude was kissing your pussy and you spat on his face and he moans licking your cum while you moaned.

When he broke off, he gave him a last kiss and then got up. Levi was still kissing your neck and playing with your tits while you kept moaning.

You turned your head a little to look at Jude and moaned as he was hot with your cum in his face and his mouth open a bit while he tried to catch his breath.

"You taste so good," Jude muttered as he kissed, and you groaned as you pulled her hair.

Levi does not give you time to think. With a smile that promises all sorts of temptation, he takes your hand and guides you through the corridor of his house, with Jude following you closely. The lights are low, and every step seems to amplify the electricity flowing between you three. You find yourself in front of the door to Levi’s room, and he pushes it slowly, revealing an intimate and welcoming environment, dominated by a large bed with dark and soft sheets.

Before you can speak, Levi grabs you by the hips and pulls you against him. Her lips settle back on your neck, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that makes you shiver. " I can’t stop thinking how irresistible you are," he whispers against your skin, his deep voice vibrating in your ears. His hands come down on your hips, clenching lightly as to emphasize his grip upon you.

You let go at the moment, your breath getting shorter as her lips descend towards the base of your neck. You raise your hands and walk through his dark hair, pulling him even closer to you, as if you want to hear every movement. "Levi..." Whispers, but the words are lost in the pleasure it causes you.

Jude, who had been watching with a mixture of impatience and desire, approaches with a determined pace. " Don’t forget about me," he says, his voice charged with a slight challenge. He stops beside you, his gaze that moves between you and Levi, before resting definitively on you. His hand lifts up to touch your face, and then it comes down your shoulder, the warm and enveloping touch.

Levi stops for a moment, lifting his head from your neck to look at Jude. "I have no intention of keeping it all to myself," he says with a smile that is both complicit and cheeky. Then he looks at you, his eyes shining with desire. "Are you ready for this?" asks you, his voice low and full of promises.

You cannot answer with words, but the way you clasp against him is sufficient. Jude moves beside you, his body approaching to touch yours, while Levi starts kissing your neck with increasing passion. The room fills with tension, every moment that passes makes you forget everything.

Both of them hurry to strip off. Revealing their long, thick and hard cocks. You moaned as you looked at their dicks and how big they were. You couldn’t stop looking at their dick.

The two of them noticed and smiled. Jude started touching his cock as he looked at you "Don’t worry baby girl we’ll make you feel good". Jude said as Levi began to take off your dress and bra, and as he did so he was biting your neck and you groaned.

When he finished taking off your dress, Levi slapped your butt and made you groan and Jude smiled at the sight of how sexy you were as you moaned.

You come to them and kneel before them and hummed happily as they saw their cock was close to your face.

"Open this beautiful mouth," says Jude in a roaring voice as he lifts his chin and grabs the end of his cock, taking it to your mouth.

When you open your mouth, he enters gently while you swirl your tongue around him enjoying the salty pre-cum. Jude grabs a handful of hair and pulls it slightly to help him guide himself further into your mouth. Hitting the bottom of your throat with tears in your eyes as it pushes back and forth in your mouth. She moans about how good you are and bites her lip as you look at it.

Jude slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth leaving you with an empty mouth, while Levi approaches and smiles at you.

You opened your mouth and slowly slid his big cock into your mouth. He grabs your back and without warning, he puts his dick in the bottom of your throat and slightly gags you.

He moves his hips while his cock continues to abuse the back of your throat. He looks at you and grunts "this beautiful mouth is made to suck my cock". Hearing these words you wept.

He pulls out of your mouth, while a small sliver of saliva follows his cock.

You looked at both of them with desire as they came a little closer to you as they started touching their dick while they were looking at you and grunting and you moaned along with them feeling even more wet.

"Shit, I’m going to cum," said Jude, touching her cock faster and Levi nodded in agreement as he looked at you and kept touching his dick.

"Open that beautiful mouth for us, baby," said Levi and you nodded in obedience.

You opened your mouth and pulled out your tongue while both Levi and Jude spilled on your tongue and the cum also fell on your tits and the rest of your body.

You moaned upon hearing the semen of both your beautiful mouth and they groaned at sight. " So sexy" said Jude grunting and Levi nodded without taking his eyes off you.

Levi and Jude help you to get up and guide you on the bed.

"Lie down for us, darling" Levi muttered and you obeyed and the two smiled.

"What a good girl," said Jude, approaching you and bending over to kiss you.

His hands slide along your naked body and you moaned as he felt his warm hands on your body.

Jude moves away to look down on you and then comes back to you and kisses you passionately.

His tongue explores your mouth, while his hands rest on your waist caressing your skin gently, while you slide your fingers through his hair pulling his breath heavier.

Levi meanwhile caresses your thighs and spreads your legs to get close to your pussy. He kisses the inside of your thighs with sensuality and passion as he approaches your folds, while you can feel his warm breath touching your clitoris and groan in Jude’s mouth.

Levi licked a strip on your folds, making you emit a slight whimper. He laid a gentle kiss on your clitoris before wrapping his tongue around it and gently sucking it. Use slow movements to tease you and make you wiggle and whimper.

He wraps his hands under your thighs to prevent you from moving too much. While you kissed Jude you moaned while Levi kept poking your pussy.

He leaves without a word and you have slowly detached yourself from Jude to look at Levi with despair.

"Please Levi don’t stop" you whimpered as you watched and could swear that his dick got even harder at that connection.

Without saying anything he dives again in your pussy as it starts to eat you. It was like this man had starved to death and the only thing he wanted was your pussy.

Jude smiles at your reaction as you arch your back while I lift it continues to eat you.

Jude begins to bite your neck leaving more marks as he sucks your skin. Meanwhile Levi’s tongue moves faster around your clitoris, slipping two fingers into your entrance and curling it in a provocative way.

Jude grabbed your boob and touched your nipple while sucking the other. Levi has slipped another finger to curl it in the perfect spot, you have gripped Levi’s hair hard making him groan against you.

Pleasure flowed through your body as his tongue swirled around your clitoris, as moans filled the room.

You started screaming as you felt how good it was making you feel as you felt your body tremble.

You spat on Levi’s face and he kept licking your juices while you yelled for overstimulation.

When he broke off, he had a smug smile that made you even more wet and you kissed him.

Jude takes you and rides him by letting his big throbbing cock enter your pussy hole making you moan as you clung to his back.

Jude motioned to Levi to go after you and Levi shove his dick into your asshole making you scream.

The two boys moaned as they heard your walls clenching their big dicks.

"Warn us if it becomes too much" whispered Levi too much in ecstasy feeling as you were squeezing him and Jude nodded closing his eyes trying not to move the hips already.

You nodded and they began to move while all three of you started to groan. Levi starts pushing slowly, before increasing the pace and making his pushes deeper and stronger. Jude pushes from below causing friction as he placed his hands on your hips to guide his movements.

Their movements become faster making you scream moans of pleasure. Levi while pushing his cock harder inside you started licking and sucking your neck and you moaned even louder.

"You’re making me feel so good" you moaned as you lowered your body towards Jude’s and he took advantage of that to take a cowl in your mouth while taking both their dicks.

"Baby girl you’re doing great, you’re making us feel like in heaven" Levi whispered near your ear as he slapped you on the butt making you groan and make you tighten their dicks more.

"This pussy is made to take our dicks," said Jude, taking a powder off your tit and then retaking the assault. You groaned as you moved faster wanting to take more of their dicks.

You moaned as they grunted and pushed their cock deeper inside you. Levi made your back bow more to make their cocks go deeper inside you and you moaned loudly as they both hit your g-spot.

"I’m going to cum" you said while moaning.

"Come baby girl" moaned Jude as he started to hit even harder and you moaned as they were about to come too. You could feel their cocks contracting inside you as you came to your orgasm. Levi cum in the ass while Jude cum in your pussy.You screamed loud as you felt full. " So beautiful" you whimpered as Levi gently pulled himself out of you and gave you a kiss on the butt, back and jaw then give you a sweet kiss on the cheek and you smiled.

You slowly got up from the dick of Jude and then lay down on the bed trying to take area and Jude caressed your hair gently and then gave you sweet kisses on the cheek.

Levi came back with a cloth while with the help of Jude they cleaned and pampered you.

You found yourself hugging Jude and Levi as they whispered sweet words and praise for how well you did.

You felt your legs tremble and had a sore throat but were satisfied by these two men lying next to you.

[cookinguptales]

You know... I had an experience about two months ago that I didn't talk about publicly, but I've been turning it over and over in my mind lately and I guess I'm finally able to put my unease into words.

So there's a podcast I'd been enjoying and right after I got caught up, they announced that they were planning on doing a live show. It's gonna be near me and on the day before my birthday and I thought -- hey, it's fate.

But... as many of you know, I'm disabled. For me, getting to a show like that has a lot of steps. One of those steps involved emailing the podcasters to ask about accessibility for the venue.

The response I got back was very quick and very brief. Essentially, it told me to contact the venue because they had no idea if it was accessible or not.

It was a bucket of cold water, and I had a hard time articulating at the time quite why it was so disheartening, but... I think I get it a little more now.

This is a podcast that has loudly spoken about inclusivity and diversity and all that jazz, but... I mean, it's easy to say that, isn't it? But just talking the talk without walking the walk isn't enough. That's like saying "sure, we will happily welcome you in our house -- if you can figure out how to unlock the door."

And friends, my lock-picking set is pretty good by this point. I've been scouting out locations for decades. I've had to research every goddamn classroom, field trip, and assigned bookstore that I've ever had in an academic setting. I've had to research every movie theater, theme park, and menu for every outing with friends or dates. I spend a long time painstakingly charting out accessible public transportation and potential places to sit down every time I leave the house.

Because when I was in college, my professors never made sure their lesson plans were accessible. (And I often had to argue with them to get the subpar accommodations I got.) Because my friends don't always know to get movie tickets for the accessible rows. Because my dates sometimes leave me on fucking read when I ask if we can go to a restaurant that doesn't keep its restrooms down a flight of stairs.

I had one professor who ever did research to see if I could do all the coursework she had planned, and who came up with alternate plans when she realized that I could not. Only one. It was a medical history and ethics class, and my professor sounded bewildered as she realized how difficult it is to plan your life when you're disabled.

This woman was straight-up one of the most thoughtful, philosophical, and ethical professors I've ever had, one who was incredibly devoted to diversity and inclusion -- and she'd never thought about it before, that the hospital archives she wanted us to visit were up a flight of stairs. That the medical museum full of disabled bodies she wanted us to visit only had a code-locked back entrance and an old freight elevator for their disabled guests who were still breathing.

And that's the crux of it, isn't it? It's easy to theoretically accept the existence of people who aren't like you. It's a lot harder to actively create a space in which they can exist by your side.

Because here's what I did before I contacted the podcasters. I googled the venue. I researched the neighborhood and contacted a friend who lives in the area to help me figure out if there were any accessible public transportation routes near there. (There aren't.) I planned for over an hour to figure out how close I could get before I had to shell out for an uber for the last leg of the trip.

Then I read through the venue's website. I looked through their main pages, through their FAQs to see if there was any mention of accessibility. No dice. I download their packet for clients and find out that, while the base building is accessible, the way that chairs/tables are set up for individual functions can make it inaccessible. So it's really up to who's hosting the show there.

So then and only then I contacted the podcasters. I asked if the floor plan was accessible. I asked if all the seats were accessible, or only some, and whether it was open seating or not. Would I need to show up early to get an accessible seat, or maybe make a reservation?

And... well, I got the one-sentence reply back that I described above. And that... god, it was really disheartening. I realized that they never even asked if their venues were accessible when they were booking the shows. I realized that they were unwilling to put in the work to learn the answers to questions that disabled attendees might have. I realized that they didn't care to find out if the building was accessible.

They didn't know and they didn't care. That, I think, is what took the wind out of my sails when they emailed me back. It's what made me decide that... yeah, I didn't really want to go through the trouble of finding an accessible route to the venue. I didn't want to have to pay an arm and a leg to hire a car to take me the last part of the journey. I didn't want to make myself frantic trying to figure out if I could do all that and still make the last train home.

If they didn't care, I guess I didn't either.

If they'd apologized and said that the only venue they could get was inaccessible, I actually would have understood. I know that small shows don't always get their pick of venues. I get it. I even would have understood if they'd been like "oh dang, I actually don't know -- but I'll find out."

But to be told that they didn't know and didn't intend to find out... oof. That one stung.

Because.... this is the thing. This is the thing. I may be good at it by now, but I'm so tired of picking locks. I'm tired of doing all the legwork because no one ever thinks to help me. I'm tired of feeling like an afterthought at best, or at worst utterly unwelcome.

If you truly want to be inclusive, you need to stop telling people that you're happy to have them -- if they can manage to unlock the door. You need to fucking open it yourself and welcome them in.

What brought all this back to me now, you may be asking? Well... I guess it's just what I was thinking to myself as I was tidying up my phone.

Today I'm deleting podcasts.