#to get you thinking in the right direction

[hedgehog-moss]

I had a friend over this week and even though the weather wasn't ideal, we decided we were going to go for a long walk in the surrounding woods with all three llamas. Since Pampelune is the uncontested chief, you just need to halter her and her herd follows wherever she goes. Sometimes we emerged from the woods into a pasture and Pampérigouste started galloping like mad (followed by her daughter & her abandonment issues), but then Pampy would object with some firm hums and the other two returned, chastened.

We'd brought a head of cabbage and we gave her a few leaves every time she successfully used her matriarch authority to re-gather our little group around her, even though she'd do it for free, because it's so nice to be able to go on walks with only one haltered llama and watch the younger ones frolic and explore the world as we go. Pampy seemed happy to walk with us at a steadier pace and to trade freedom for cabbage.

We'd initially planned to stay on my side of the torrent, but after meandering downhill for a long time we unexpectedly found an old bridge I didn't know existed, and it looked very inviting, so we crossed. (Ominous chords.) Then we enthusiastically went up hoping we'd see my house from the opposite hill—and we did, here it is :)

And then we went back into the woods, and got lost. Of course. I really think my friend carries some sort of curse because I don't usually get lost in nature but the last time we went on a great hike we also found ourselves completely disoriented in a featureless snowy plain, trying to glimpse the sun behind clouds and debating whether finding the North would help us in any way.

This time we were quicker to admit we were lost, and I said we could either go uphill, and we'd find the road eventually and the nearest milestone would tell us where we are (or we'd reach a farm on the plateau), or go downhill, and we'd find the stream eventually and cross it and then we'd be in a part of the woods I'd recognise. Probably.

Drawback of going uphill: it's technically the wrong direction, so the way home will be that much longer (and night falls at 5pm)

Drawback of going downhill: we'll have to cross the water at some point. Without a bridge. It would take a miracle to find that bridge again, supposing it was a real bridge and not a fae illusion to lead us astray.

After debating for a bit we decided to go downhill, because we were hopeful that we'd find a shallow spot to cross the stream, and also we feared that at nightfall the llamas might just lie down and decide to spend the night right here, in the woods. It's hard to make a llama get up again once she's decided that enough things happened for today.

The question of whether the llamas would accept to cross a mountain stream with us was left undebated—though we did regret having spent our cabbage too lavishly and too soon.

But we followed a rivulet downhill and Pampe crossed it repeatedly, with merry and graceful mountain goat jumps, which made us feel comforted in our decision.

Then we got to a point where the water became visible, and very noisy, and Pampelune started to feel suspicious. She made worried hums and walked more reluctantly and (having squandered our cabbage) we had to cajole her into compliance.

I love that my friend captured the moment when I crouched down and started straight-up lying to my llama.

Poldine was the last one to realise something was afoot, because she is young and trusting.

Once she did, she also became a bit reluctant (she wanted to go uphill again), and more than once my friend had to open her cloak-like coat in order to look like a bat and persuade Poldine that nothing good was happening in that direction.

We found a spot where the water was pretty shallow and decided to cross. The air temperature was maybe 1°c and the water felt like it was minus twelve so my friend wasn't exactly happy about the series of decisions that had led us to this point. I pointed out that last time in that snowy plain there was this piercing relentless evil wind howling in our ears and making unsettling voice-like sounds when it blew through holes in fences (to help her relativise) and she was like, when did this day go from singing walking songs and watching Pampe gambol in pastures to "at least this time we aren't being driven mad by ghostly wind."

I told her that things that go wrong become the most vivid and fun memories in the long term and we debated this postulate for a bit and I felt like I had successfully distracted her from our plight, until she put her foot in the water and said she wished she were in the metro in Paris right now. In Châtelet even. I said "but in two days you'll be in the Paris metro wishing you were here trying to cross a cold mountain stream with three appalled llamas!" and she said yes. Still, the situation is dire when a Parisian says she would rather be in Châtelet.

Pampe actually followed us quite quickly! I'm pointing this out because I'm always talking about how contrary Pampérigouste is, but she was so great about crossing the stream, even humming to her daughter as if to encourage her. I suppose she was telling Poldine that when they make their final escape and become wild llamas they'll probably have to cross mountain streams now and then.

Poldine panicked a bit once everyone was on the other side of the water except her, and although I'd already wrung out my socks I was psychologically preparing myself to cross the ice-cold water again and go get her—but after walking up and down the other bank desperately looking for an invisible bridge, she resentfully crossed.

Then we went uphill again and eventually found our way to my neighbour's pasture! I immediately recognised the old tree in the middle and I was very happy to see it. My friend was holding Pampy and I had climbed ahead to act as a scout, and I cried out to share my discovery feeling like Vasco de Gama. It was snowing just a tiny bit, and getting darker, and I think everyone (including Pirlouit, languishing alone in his pasture) had started to privately wonder if we were going to spend the night in the woods.

One interesting activity we did when we went home was testing the various objects that live on or near my fireplace to see which ones are heavy and stable enough to hang very wet socks. We tried the wistful wooden shepherd, the porcelain fox, the music box shaped like a pile of books, the vase, and found that the only reliable spots in my living-room to dry your socks are under Sherlock Holmes and under Marie-Antoinette so we agreed on a fair sock-drying rotation. The living-room smelled of wet wool (or wet llama) all evening, but we had a glass of champagne to celebrate the fact that we weren't currently trying to fight hypothermia by curling up between two llamas in some frosty meadow, and we felt pleased with our adventure, all things considered.

We realised a bit late that we had been in such a hurry to go home and warm up we'd neglected to reward our hiking companions, so we very bravely put on new socks and went out in the night to look for the llamas with our phone lights and distribute some muesli. Pirlouit was included in the distribution because he definitely would have crossed the stream with us had he been invited (and told his hay was on the other side.) Also we got a kiss from Poldine so I think she replayed the day's events in her head and came to the conclusion that her mother was, somehow, as always, to blame for all this.

[rafesangelita]

⋆˚✿˖° when bitchy!kook!reader’s best friend begs her to go buy something off of rafe for her, she’s forced to face their complicated past once again.. but this time on her knees..

warnings: s1!rafe, dealer!rafe, rafe is kinda icky in this ngl, groping, teasing, name-calling, reader makes rafe go absolutely dumb, flirty banter (?), rough kissing, lots of dirty talk, slight jealousy, slight praise, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, orgasm denial

a/n: s1!rafe is such a loser, i had to.

wc: 1.8k

“just go get it!” chanel whined, tugging on your arm as you rolled your eyes at her. she’s been begging you to score from rafe for about fifteen minutes now, a hundred dollar bill tucked between her fingers as she shook you by your shoulders. “no, chanel! i’m not really feeling a bump right now, alright?” you looked away from her in hopes she’d give it up already. you knew she was still mortified from the last time she tried to buy off of rafe, her form of payment being a complete miss when rafe gave her a disgusted look as she not-so-subtly got on her knees for him.

after she had to mask her embarrassment and play it off as if she just ‘dropped’ something and had to pick it up, she vowed to never face rafe cameron again. “i’m literally offering free blow, come on!” she exclaimed. you looked around the room, noticing a few stares in your direction, a sigh leaving your lips as you ripped the money from her hands. “fine! oh my god, will you stop that already!?” you whispered, reapplying your lipgloss before making your way over to rafe. he was surrounded by all of his friends, their boisterous laughter coming to a stop as you approached their table.

sliding the bill over to him, you felt the burn of their surrounding gazes on your ass. “i’ll have whatever that can get me.” you slowly stood back up, your dress riding up your thighs as rafe so shamelessly ogled your cleavage. “not even a ‘hi, how are you?’ i thought we were closer than that, babe.” rafe chuckled, shooing his friends off with the wave of his hand. without another word, they left, leaving you and rafe all alone as he patted the spot next to him. “i’m not sitting down. i just need my shit and i’ll be gone.” rafe’s smile dropped at your words, a scoff leaving his lips as he rounded the table.

“this is what you want, huh?” he waved a small baggie in your face, “take a walk with me and it’s all yours.. no money necessary.” he slipped the bill in your bra, his fingers skimming the flesh there as he threw an arm around your shoulders. oh, chanel owed you big time for this. “we should be together baby, we’d be the hottest couple in this bitch.” you hummed in disagreement, flashing him a glare. “i’m already the hottest one here, i don’t need you to be the ‘hottest’ anything.” rafe smiled down at you. your bitchy attitude only made him grow hard for you in his pants.

“you’re a bitch, you know that?” he started walking you two upstairs, his arm dropping from your shoulders before grabbing a handful of your ass through your dress. “aww, you think so?” you cooed, feigning innocence as you swatted his hand away. rafe settled for keeping a palm on the small of your back, your eybrows knitting in confusion when you two walked into a bathroom. “what are we doing in here?” you watched as rafe clicked the lock shut, his biceps bulging through his t-shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. you couldn’t help but stare at his muscles.

rafe is a pretty attractive guy, there was no doubt about that. sharp facial features, blue eyes that made it easy to get lost in, and his muscles.. god, those chiseled muscles were a weakness of yours. “you can stop the act, you know?” he stepped closer, his face mere centimeters from yours. you put some space between you two, taking the hundred dollar bill out of your bra and offering it to him once again. “i’m just here to get something for my friend. you can take it or leave it, i don’t care which one you choose.” you leaned against the sink, the dim lighting making your lipgloss sparkle.

rafe nodded, tonguing his cheek as he caged you between his arms. he just had to smell so good. “your friend?” he repeated, “you’re not talking about chanel, right? the one who wanted to give me head instead of actually paying me?” you laughed, attempting to push him away but he didn’t budge. “oh, that just strokes your ego, doesn’t it?” you glanced at him through your lashes, feeling your resolve crumble the longer he stayed this close to you. “nah, not like you do.” he leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to the underside of your jaw. rafe was starting to get you where he wanted you.

“come on, you tellin’ me that you don’t think about that night we snuck away from that charity gala and had marathon sex on the druthers?” and there it was.. the one and only thing rafe cameron had dirt on you for. you sucked in a breath, a shiver running down your spine when he nipped the sensitive skin of your neck. “that was months ago, rafe.” you sighed, your hands trailing up his arms. “i still think about it,” he started, “still’ got your panties from that night in my room..” you moaned at the revelation, your fingers threading through his hair as he lifted you onto the sink to step between your thighs.

“why did you bring me here?” you pulled away, eyes glazed over as he rested a hand on your thigh. “because i still wanna supply you, just at the cost of something else..” you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that ‘something’ was. “goodbye, rafe.” you were about to move around him when he spoke. “that’s fine, really. i bet that girlfriend of yours downstairs wouldn’t mind getting on her knees for me one more time.. y’know, since you can’t do it.” you froze, your jaw clenching as you turned around and glared at him. “‘i ‘can’t’ do it’. is that what you said?” you arched a brow.

“yeah. you can’t do it right, and that’s okay. desperate times call for desperate measures, and no one sucks cock better than a cokewhore looking for her next bump. ‘matter of fact.. send her up to me when you get back down there.” he winked. you were utterly speechless. who the fuck did he think he was talking to? you were hands down the best suck and fuck of his life, and you both knew it. “that’s funny..” you pouted, “cause if i remember correctly, you came three times in the span of ten minutes,” your laugh echoed off of the walls of the bathroom, “it felt so good, you were crying. did you forget that?” you whispered.

rafe cursed under his breath, lifting his head to meet your heated gaze. he could never forget that. he literally had to pull you off of him, pathetic whimpers leaving his lips as he laid there dazed and overstimulated. “but you’re right, i’m sure chanel would love to come up here.” you kissed his cheek, not even making it to the door before he pulled you back by your hair, his lips clashing with your own. the kiss was anything but soft. teeth, tongue, you name it, you two kissed like you’ve been waiting to do it for months. “you fuckin’ bitch, you were just waiting to throw that in my face, huh?”

you giggled, pushing him back against the counter before kneeling down and unbuckling his belt. rafe couldn’t believe that this was happening again. slipping his shirt off so it wasn’t in the way, he shuddered when he felt your fingers loop through the waistband of his briefs, his pants falling down in one swoop. “ah, fuck!” he hissed, the tip of his cock already leaking precum for you as you wrapped a hand around his base. “wanna keep saying that i don’t know what i’m doing?” you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, making him melt into a puddle of nothing as you stroked him languidly.

“no— no! you make me feel so good, baby..” rafe’s lips parted when you gave him a lick, swirling your tongue around the glistening head before taking him in your mouth, your throat closing around him tightly. rafe stood there frozen, his heart beating in his ears when you swallowed around his length. taking that as permission to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rafe pulled you off of his cock, groaning at the sight of a string of spit connecting you two before slamming back into your throat, both of you moaning at the sensation. he looked so pretty when he was fighting the urge not to cum too soon.

eyebrows pinched together in pure bliss, rafe took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head rolling back as the sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat reverberated off the walls of the bathroom. your mascara was starting to smudge, but with the black pencil in your waterline it was hard to tell you were messing up your makeup in the first place. “oh my god, baby, this is— shit, i can’t. i can’t fuckin’—” rafe was babbling nonsense, his knees buckling when he felt you take his balls in your other hand. “wait, wait, i’m so close. y/n—”

you ignored his pleas for you to slow down, only pulling away from him when he was right on the edge of painting your tongue with his cum. the look on his face was priceless when you started fixing your hair in the mirror, tearing off a piece of tissue to dab at the stray tears that managed to roll down your cheeks. “w-what are you doing? what’s wrong?” rafe stammered, his cock standing up against his stomach as you didn’t spare him another glance.

“i’m going home!” you chirped, the man next to you shaking his head at your words. “no, no, no, what are you talking about?” he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to where he stood, “come on, you know i can make you scream. let me fuck you..” he whispered the last part in your ear, making a wicked grin form on your lips. “fuck me? gross, no way.” pecking the tip of his nose, you pushed him away before opening the door. “wait, what about your blow?” he shouted after you as if to say ‘gotcha!’. turning around at the top of the stairs, you took the little baggie out of your bra and waved it at him.

“you should be careful, ray. ‘get too horny and can’t even feel when a cokewhore slips her fingers in your pocket. you made it too easy for me, baby!” rafe was in disbelief when he watched you blow a kiss at him, your hips swaying as you walked down the stairs. you were so clever he couldn’t even be mad. pathetically shouting a ‘so you’ll call me?!’ you ignored him, scoffing. “as if, loser.”

[vampiresbloodx]

Arcane imagine.

Arcane characters react when you take a hit for them.

Characters included: Mel medarda, Caitlyn, vi, jinx, sevika.

Trigger warnings: fluff, angst, reader getting hurt, injuries, yearning, implied smut, gross m*n, harassment

Mel medarda;

It was a seemingly normal night for you both, you had decided to take Mel out for dinner, nothing too luxurious (in her own words) but you wanted nothing but the best for your Mel, she appreciated that, god, she never looked more beautiful when she's standing in the moonlight in her red dress she especially wore for you and only you

The night was going just as planned, it was perfect, there was much laughter and smiles that hurt both of your cheeks, as you held hands and walked together, occasionally sitting down and kissing one another, when of course, a drunk man happened to be near by, and he didn't like what he saw, the famous Mel medarda kissing someone that wasn't a man

He ended up becoming furious, stumbling over as he started shouting nonsense, Mel wasn't having it, she used her authority voice that turns stern to control the situation, she does this when she's nervous, and you can tell when she grips onto your hand tighter

When you see the man raising his hand in her direction, you immediately shield her and take the hit, your cheek stings as you even taste blood, that was Mel's last straw when she saw him hit her lover, you've never seen her this angry, it was a sight to see her cussing out the man and ruining him to pieces, he ended up walking off, leaving you alone as you felt a little ashamed, but you were happy that you had stopped him from hitting Mel, no one hits her

"why'd you do that?" Mel had asked, bending down on her knees as she takes your face in her hands, checking to make sure you're okay. "Why did you do that?" She keeps on asking, her eyes wide with fury and worry.

"Because I love you" was all you said.

She smiled, laughed, you laughed with her, she had tears in her eyes, though you wouldn't bring it up, you wiped some away with your thumb, as she kissed you hard

Caitlyn;

Caitlyn was out doing her duty when you were supposed to be at home, relaxing, waiting for her return, things have been getting rough fast, much to her liking as she had to deal with it all

She knew there was no going back once she went down this road, it had to be done, you had tried convincing her to stop and think, you know her grief has been eating at her, you've felt it, you know what it's like yourself

She tries to hide it, but you can see it

You try to be there for her in any way you can, whatever she needs, you'll give

While she was out one night, alone, you know she's capable of taking care of herself, you don't doubt that at all, the one time she didn't have her gun with her is when shit happens, you don't like guns, she knows this, so she tries not to carry them around you, unless absolute necessary

Then out of no where, she's attacked.

And she stumbles, for the first time in so long, she's nervous, scared, thinking about you

They came out of no where, taking her off guard as they had their masks on, it was dark out, she couldn't see much

Then you appear all of a sudden, like a knight in shining armor, she watches you in awe before she realizes what you are doing with the way you jumped at them, with fury on your face as you raised your fist, ready to protect her, she shouted your name, you looked, and you got hit

Caitlyn lost it

They were all done by the time you opened your eyes again, embarrassed, you couldn't look at Caitlyn in the eyes but she had picked you up in her arms, carrying you home, she was silent, thinking you were still out, you admired her, reaching out to caress her cheek, she smiled, looking down at you as that tells you enough

Vi;

You hadn't seen vi all day, you knew she'd come home eventually, you two had plans, a date she promised, but something didn't feel right

Vi doesn't fuck around when she makes a promise to meet with you, you know that, she knows that, others might not, but you do

When she doesn't answer your calls and texts, you get worried, eventually you went out of your apartment to go and track her down, you know a few places she'd always be at

When you find her in a tight situation, in a dark alleyway, just a few blocks away from home, as it looks like she was on the way back to you, you felt frustrated as you watched three big, tall guys who clearly had a bit to drink pick on her

Vi had fought the worst of the worst, you know that, but you weren't having it

She didn't let you join in on fighting, scared for you, she worries sick, that she might lose you, but she doubts you enough, you know it wasn't doubt though, she just cared

She cared so much

It was a surprise when she saw you running at full speed at one of the guys and taking a huge hit when he got a hand of you, shoving you off, vi was pissed

Anger was all she felt as she kicked all of their asses

She was muttering while checking in on you, she patched you up and took care of you, making sure you were okay, in her eyes, she couldn't help but admit that it was hot, and that made her fall in love harder with you

Jinx;

Jinx had always been the one to fight for herself

She wasn't used to others stepping in, unless it was for work

Like if silco had ordered them too go with her, that wouldn't make a difference

Jinx was always going to be doing everything herself, that was until you came into her life, when everything went shit when silco died, you were her light

And Isha

You two meant more to her than she could ever imagine

She began to look forward to tomorrow

The one time you, Isha, jinx all decided to go out for an adventure, she wanted to impress you with her new projects that she was working on, you always listened to her ramble and she liked it, not many people did aside from sevika, Isha and you

Though sevika just tolerated it

Everything was going perfect, when a group of idiots came out and she didn't even have all of her fancy weapons on her, the one time she doesn't, because she just wanted to have fun with her favorite people, she was actually enjoying herself, which why she got so angry when they attacked

She knows she's got plenty of enemies, that's nothing new, but what she doesn't like is when any of them go for Isha or you, you two shouldn't be involved in this, even though you and her are together together, you were more vulnerable now

She was amazed by you

What she didn't expect was to watch you stand in front of her and take a huge hit to the face just when she was handling the guys her way, that caught her off balance

She raged at them

Once she was done with them, she took your hands as she was filled with worry, her anxiety buzzing, her thoughts too loud, thinking the worst, Isha helped you stand up, she also looked concerned, wondering what had happened, why you got hurt

Jinx didn't waste anytime pressing a kiss to your lips as she took you home with Isha alongside her

Sevika;

Sevika just wanted to take you out on a nice date, as best as she could offer, she knows you'd appreciate it regardless, but she wanted to give you everything she could

You had made everything better for her the moment you stepped into her life, she wanted to do you good

The date was going perfectly, just the way she had planned, it wasn't often sevika was pleased with herself, but tonight you looked good enough to eat

Just when everything was going fine, someone had to ruin it

Someone who was upset with her

Sevika knew she made a name for herself, people knew her, they weren't always the nicest

Usually just wanted to try and fight her, to see if they'd beat her, they never do, it ends up written on all their faces

But of course, her first date with you got interrupted, and Sevika wasn't having it when this guy was trying so hard to get with you, she hated how uncomfortable you looked, he didn't even recognize her there the entire time as she stared him down with a cold glare, she made her presence known

He looked flabbergasted at the sight of sevika having a date with someone like you, you two were different, sure, she didn't care what others think, especially if they targeted you

You said you were used to it, guys coming up and flirting with you, making gross comments, she wasn't having it, she didn't care how used to it you were

"are you done here?" Sevika asked, taking a bite of a cherry as you watched, admiring her, she smirked at you.

The guy huffs, unimpressed, "the fuck are you doing here, bitch?" He slurred, leaning closer.

The moment you heard him call her a bitch, you immediately stood up, as the both of them got heated, fast, you know sevika doesn't back down from a fight for anyone, especially a sloppy moyherfucker like him who runs his stupid mouth

You spotted him getting closer and raiding his hand at her, no, you weren't going to have tonight end up blood spilt, as hot as that'd be, you wanted your date to be perfect

Just before he could even punch your Sevika, you were able to get in between them fast, his hand hitting hard on your check as you fell against her front

She stared at you with wide eyes, and raged at the guy

She knew you didn't want her fighting anyone on your date, but that set her off

The pain stung as you knew it was gonna bruise, fuck, but you wanted to make sure it wasn't always her getting the first hit

He ended up on the floor, passed out fast

Sevika had you in her arms, kissing you rough, you tasted blood, it was everything, she never looked more beautiful as she stared at you with so much love

"I'm gonna treat you so good, baby."

Tonight was far from over

[y3sterdaysproblem]

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter seven

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.8k

It’s been a long time since you’ve woken up next to somebody, apart from a friend after spending the night, or even Matt, as you’d spent many nights in his bed, but you’d never woken up touching him, always staying at opposite sides of the bed, so it was definitely out of the ordinary when your eyes fluttered open and landed on a figure next to you.

It took you a moment to clear your head and remember where you were, focusing on the way your body was chest to chest with another, arms wrapped loosely around you and holding you close, your own arm draped over his waist. It didn’t take you long to register that it was Chris’s soft breaths coming from above you where your face was pressed into his chest.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but it didn’t last long when you finally processed the pounding in your head, causing you to groan quietly. “Fuck…” you mumble, pulling away from Chris to roll onto your back, trying not to jostle him too much, but you were unsuccessful, Chris’s hand reaching forward to rest on your stomach, thumb starting to brush over the skin softly.

“I don’t wanna open my eyes,” Chris grumbles, sliding his hand to your waist to pull you back into him, you still laying on your back. His cheek came to rest on your shoulder and you brought your hand up to caress his arm strewn across you.

“Don’t do it, bad idea,” you tell him, turning your head to look at his face for the first time. His hair was sticking up in every direction, though it still looked adorable, and he even had a small white line coming from his mouth and over his cheek, making you giggle quietly. “You drool in your sleep?”

Chris finally peeks one eye open, glaring at you. “I didn’t say anything about you drooling last night.”

Your mouth falls open, cheeks turning red at his words. “Don’t be crude,” you tell him quietly. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

Chris closes his eye again, smirking. “Yeah, right. That was the best sex of your life. Good luck getting over it.”

You pout and turn your body back towards Chris, swinging your leg over his hip. His hand immediately and almost habitually lands on your thigh, rubbing the skin up and down in a comforting manner. “My head hurts, Chris. Can you go buy me tylenol from downstairs?”

Chris groans, leaning in closer to tuck his face in your neck, gently pressing his lips to the front of your throat. “Don’t wanna get outta bed yet,” he tells you, muffled by your skin. “I know what can help with a headache.”

His hand slides up your hip, over your waist, and then comes forward, trailing over your stomach, causing goosebumps to arise. “What are you doing?” You whisper.

Chris slips his hand between your legs and runs his fingers through your folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I’m helping you with your headache,” he says, smile evident in his voice. He nuzzles his head in a little further and parts his lips to start sucking a mark into your skin.

“Chris, hickeys are so-,” your words are cut off by a small gasp, eyes fluttering shut as his middle fingers dip inside you, still slightly wet from last night. “Trashy,” you finish, breathless.

Chris hums, fingers working slowly inside of you. “Stop me then,” he tells you, knowing you wouldn’t.

You huff, and despite your words you tilt your head for Chris to have better access to your neck, letting him continue to pepper your neck with kisses and purple marks.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Chris tells you, pulling his face back. You open your eyes and look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He just smiled at your expression and leaned forward, pressing your lips together firmly but still softly, slipping his fingers out of you to circle your clit, causing a moan to slip through your nose, your leg wrapped around Chris trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you mumble against his mouth, sliding your arm around his torso, then turning your body onto your back, pulling him with you so he was hovering above you. “Please?”

Chris pulled away from the kiss and smiled down at you, bringing his hands up to rest on either side of your head. “How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

You smile up at him shyly, the newfound dynamic between you both still making you nervous. You guys had almost never made eye contact with each other before, barely even speaking to one another unless it was to shoot an insult towards the other, and to go from that to this was such a stark difference and it made you feel even more vulnerable and naked in front of him. However, you didn’t feel insecure. If anything, you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in this position. You felt safe, cared for. The way his eyes locked onto yours from above you made you feel like he saw you in a way no one else ever had before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

Your legs spread for Chris to rest between, your hand coming down to stroke him a few times, causing him to let out a quiet moan, arms tensing on either side of you. “Don’t be gun shy now, baby,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

Chris chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “Not gun shy, just tryna not bust the second I put it in.”

You laugh, using the tips of your fingers to guide his dick towards your entrance. “You have the vocabulary of a twelve year old.”

Chris grimaces, staying still. “Can you not compare me to a twelve year old right now?”

You only laugh harder, throwing your head back into the pillow. “If you just fuck me I’ll shut up!”

Chris groans, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. “I pride myself on how long I last so forgive me for not wanting to finish as soon as we start.”

You roll your eyes, staring up at him where he looked down at you, his eyebrows raised in a ‘duh’ expression. “Yeah but now you’re fucking the girl you’ve dreamed of fucking for years so I think it’s acceptable if you finish fast. C’mon, I neeeed it.” You draw out your words in a whiny tone, trying to pull him in again with your legs.

You’re still giggling when Chris finally pushes inside of you, bottoming out in one go, making you gasp, mood switching instantly. “Fuck, Chris,” you breathe, reaching up to grab his shoulders.

“Now stop running your mouth and shut the fuck up, please,” Chris demands, pulling out slowly and pushing back in just as slow, trying to make sure he lasts as long as possible.

“Y-yes, daddy,” you say in a teasing tone, biting your lip and staring up at Chris with an almost innocent look in your eyes.

Fuck, Chris thinks.

His jaw drops as his hips stutter inside you, his cheeks blushing a deep red.

Your eyes widen and a shit eating grin graces your face, pushing your elbows underneath you to prop yourself up.

“No,” you start in an accusing tone.

“I’m sorry,” Chris replies. “It’s not what you think-“

“I think it’s exactly what I think.”

“It’s not-!”

“A daddy kink?”

“No!”

“You just came the second I called you daddy.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to last!”

You squeal out a laugh, pressing your lips into Chris’s cheek. “You are a dirty, dirty boy, Christopher Owen. Filthy.”

Chris groans and pulls out of you, pushing you down on the bed harshly. “You talk too fucking much, has anyone ever told you that?”

You bounce on the bed slightly as he shoves you, still looking up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “A few times, mostly you I think.”

“Yeah, well. You do. You’d really benefit from shutting the fuck up sometimes.” Chris tells you, slowly scooting down the bed.

You were happy to see that the teasing hadn’t completely disappeared, it just had a sweeter undertone to it now, knowing you guys weren’t actually trying to hurt each others’ feelings. “Weren’t telling me to be quiet last night,” you retort sassily.

“I actually liked the shit coming out of your mouth last night,” Chris tells you, lowering himself onto his stomach in between your legs. His mouth latched onto your thigh, kissing softly. “‘Chris, don’t stop, Chris, I’m so close, Chris, you’re so big, mmm, Chris, I’m squirting everywhere’.” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice, placing kisses on your thigh between every sentence.

You pout and look down at him to see him smirking back at you, his arms wrapped around your thighs. “Hey,” you whine. “I was embarrassed, that’s never happened with somebody before.”

He just smiles and dips his head down, watching his own release dripping out of you slowly. “And it’ll never happen with anyone else. Only me, right? This pussy’s all mine.” He dips down and finally attaches his lips to your entrance, groaning at the taste that he already missed so badly.

You moan and drop your head back into the pillow, bringing your hand up to tangle in his messy hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp thoughtfully. “All yours,” you sigh, lightly grinding your hips into his mouth. “That’s.. fuck, that feels so good, you eat me so well.” You praise.

Chris just hums against your clit, making you moan even louder, knowing it’s not going to take you long to finish if he kept this up. “Can I have your fingers, too? Please?”

Chris knew he’d probably never be able to say no to you again in his life, not when you sounded so good asking so nicely, so he squeezed your thigh with his right hand before snaking it around and towards your entrance, easily slipping two fingers back inside you, making you arch your back into him, moans growing louder.

“Right there, fuck, I’m so close,” you whine, head pushing back into the pillow and hips pressing down harder into him, your jaw going slack and breath catching in your throat as you came, fingers grasping Chris’s hair and thighs shaking around his head.

He continued to work his tongue and lips on your clit as you came, fingers fucking you through your orgasm. You finally let out the breath you were holding after a few moments, using your hand to push Chris’s head away from you, making him laugh. “You okay?” He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

You nod and clamp your legs shut, whimpering quietly. “Done,” you say simply, and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bed sheets.

He crawls back up to your face and places a kiss on your nose, meeting your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “You are so fucking sexy, you know that?”

You shake your head in disagreement, looking away from Chris, embarrassed. He was having none of that, though. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes back to his. “I’m serious. To me, you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ll tell you that shit every day until you believe me. I’ll eat you out, fuck you, touch you, anywhere you want, just so you know.”

You smile meekly, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks,” you whisper. Chris nods and squeezes your cheeks together to pout out your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly.

“How’s your head?” He asks when he pulls away, making you laugh.

“Never had any complaints,” you say, giggling through your words, making Chris drop his head between his shoulders, muttering a quiet ‘oh my fucking god’ under his breath. “Good, actually. I just really want a cheeseburger now.” You say honestly, making Chris laugh.

“Alright, well, get up and get dressed and I’ll buy you as many cheeseburgers as you want.” Chris climbs out of bed and starts rummaging through the room to find your guys’ discarded clothes strewn around the hotel room.

-

You parked your car outside the triplets’ house, turning your head to smile at Chris, who pouted back at you. “Do you have to go home?” He asks, sounding like a little kid who didn’t get their way.

You laugh at the tone of his voice. “Yeah, I desperately need to shower and take off my makeup. Plus, my hair’s a mess, I stink, and I’m covered in hickeys. I need to put makeup on these before I come over otherwise they’re going to know.”

Chris groaned and leaned over the center console, placing his right hand on your thigh covered by your dress from last night, sliding his hand up underneath the fabric. “You could shower with me,” he tells you, leaning into you and pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Let them find out, who cares?”

You grab Chris’s wrist and push it away, making him pull his face away as well. “I care,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to just tell them we’re fucking, I want to have a real conversation with you about what we’re doing first. What if you decide you don’t want me and go back to being a dick? Then it’ll have been a waste to tell them and now it’s awkward between everybody.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as you speak, feeling slightly offended. “I want you,” he starts, voice serious. “I’m never going to not want you and it’s not just fucking to me. So if you need time that’s okay but don’t ever think that I don’t want you because I do.”

You let out a small breath of relief and nod, smiling shyly at Chris. “Okay,” you whisper. “I still want to wait, especially to tell Matt. He deserves more than just me looking a mess to tell him I slept with his little brother.”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyed. “I am not his little brother, he just came out first.”

“Which makes him older.”

“Does not.”

“Definitely does.”

“Does not!”

“You sure sound like an annoying little brother right now,” you tell Chris, eyebrows raised. He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“You’re annoying,” he mumbles, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, whatever. Go inside so I can shower please, I feel disgusting.” Your eyes rake over your body, trying to not focus on the way the bottoms of your feet were dirty from not wearing your heels, or how your underwear were thrown in the backseat, leaving you completely naked under this dress.

Chris wipes off his grumpy pout and looks back at you. “Can you come over later? I can sneak you in through the door in my room and we can watch a movie or something. We obviously don’t have to have sex I just really want to see you.”

You feel your ears start to heat up at his words, feeling giddy at the fact that he really did want to see you and spend time together. You couldn’t really fully believe this was happening, but you weren’t complaining at all. You nod your head, a closed mouth smile blooming on your lips.

“Great,” Chris smiles, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips, hand reaching up to rest on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re home. I’ll text you once my brothers go to their rooms and you can spend the night.”

You kiss Chris one more time, leaning into him gently. “Okay,” you tell him once you’ve pulled away. “I’ll see you later.”

Chris nods in agreement and lets himself out of the car, waving at you from the doorway before it shuts and he disappears.

You stare at the door for a few moments before turning back to stare at your steering wheel, a small, excited giggle leaving your lips as you process everything that has happened over the last twelve hours, finding it a bit hard to believe.

Your phone pings from where it sat in your cup holder, ripping you from your thoughts. You grab it and look at the lockscreen, laughing loudly when you read the message.

from: chris sturns

‘i miss you’

-

It’s dark out now, but you weren’t super tired as you took a pretty long nap after your shower, still a little hungover despite your efforts to kick it, however now that you’d slept you feel like a new person.

You were sat on your couch snuggled up under a blanket when you got a text, and it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was from.

‘come over’

You giggle when you read it, starting to type back.

from: you

‘you come here, i’m comfy’

from: chris sturns

‘i don’t have a car’

from: you

‘that’s never stopped you before’

The messages stopped there and you assumed maybe Chris had given in and ordered an uber to come over, but when ten minutes had passed, fifteen even, and you hadn’t heard from him, you think maybe he just didn’t want to argue and gave up.

You don’t think much of it, not really minding whether he came over or not, but the sound of your bell ringing startles you, heart picking up pace slightly. You throw your large blanket off of you and stand up, walking quickly to your front door.

You’re shocked when you pull it open and see an out of breath Chris standing there, bracing himself on the doorframe as he heaved. “Chris?!” You squeal. “Why are you breathing like that? Why are you… damp?”

Chris swallows thickly, meeting your eyes. “I… ran,” he chokes out. “Thought I was still… in shape… I’m not.”

You laugh loudly, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him inside. “Why did you run?!”

Chris kicks his shoes off, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t want to wait for an uber and I couldn’t ask Matt. I thought you were way closer. Never doing that again.”

“You’re so dumb, Chris, now you’re all sweaty and gross!” You tell him, walking back to the couch and sitting down, legs crossed.

“‘M not that sweaty, it’ll go away.” Chris sits next to you and reaches out for you, which you happily respond to, swinging over to straddle his lap, smiling down at him.

“I missed you,” he tells you, head leaning on the back of the couch as he looks at you, hands rubbing over the tops of your thighs.

“I missed you, too,” you coo, one hand threading through his hair sweetly. “It’s so weird to hear you be so nice to me. Feel like I entered an alternate reality or something.”

Chris chuckles. “I have a lot of time to make up so get used to it.”

You hum and lean down, pressing your lips to Chris’s gently, feeling your body relax into him as you kissed, like you’ve been waiting all day to feel his touch again.

The kiss stayed sweet and tender, your lips moving together slowly as his hands trailed over your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Chris pulls away first, licking his lips as his eyes reopened and landed on your face. “Wanna watch a movie? I could order us some food.”

You nod your head eagerly. “Haven’t eaten since earlier, that sounds good.”

Which is exactly what led to you and Chris sitting on your bed with a large towel laid out in front of you guys, way too much food splayed out on top of it, and a movie playing on your tv that was mounted on the wall.

“We are not going to finish this,” you garble, mouth full of fries.

Chris laughs at you and covers his mouth, looking at you where you sat next to him, a smile on your face despite the fact that you were chewing. “Gross, dude, close your mouth.”

You only laugh more, reaching out to shove his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

Chris smirks, reaching his hand out to cup over your clothed core, causing you to squeal in shock. “Later,” he says, kissing your cheek. “That’s what the towel’s for, right? Gonna show me your party trick again?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “No! No party trick! How bout I tell your brothers about your party trick?”

Chris laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. “What’s my party trick?”

“The one where you bust as soon as a girl says daddy.” You say, deadpan.

Chris rolls his eyes. “It’s not because a girl called me daddy, that’s happened plenty of times, it’s because you called me daddy and I already told you I wasn’t gonna last. You’re too sexy for me, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” you groan, stuffing more fries in your mouth. “Hey, did you turn your location off?” You ask, remembering that his brothers had both of your locations on and if they saw he was here, they’d find you two out immediately.

Chris hums, pulling his phone out and showing you the back where you saw it was an older, purple model. “Left it at home, brought my work phone. If they check they’re just gonna see that I’m at home.”

You nod your head, signaling how impressed you were. “Alright, I see you. Little liar.”

Chris drops his phone back on the bed, turning to you. “Nuh uh, you are the liar. I wanted to tell them.”

“Doesn’t make me a liar!” You wail, pouting in annoyance. “I just… wanna figure out what this is first, is that so wrong?”

Chris puts all of his food down and sighs, maneuvering his body so he was facing you, hands in his lap. “I told you already. I want you, in whatever capacity you’ll let me have you. If you just want to sleep together, I can deal with that. If you want to be together, I’d fucking love that.”

You stare up at Chris, eyes searching his to see if you saw any hesitation behind them, any embellishment to the truth, but all you could see was sincerity.

“We don’t have to label this but I just want you to know where I stand. I’m not talking to anybody, I don’t have dating apps, I only have eyes for you.” Chris trails a hand up to your back, rubbing gently as he spoke. You just nodded at his words, believing him completely.

“But, um… if we don’t have a label, and we do want to eventually… be together,” you start shyly, moving your eyes down to your comforter. “Can we still sneak around and have sex? That’s kind of really hot.”

Chris nods his head enthusiastically, smiling wide. “Oh yeah. That was never a question. I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.”

You laugh, happy he’s on the same page. “Perfect.”

-

a/n: sooo…

smoke and mirrors was SUPPOSED to end here, but you guys BULLIED ME into continuing it so here’s to the beginning of the sneaking around portion of s&m 😈

thanks for all the love babies keep it up please 🖤

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

[theroundbartable]

As a literature professure, they should be ALERT, they should KNOW this history! This really takes away their credibility as a professional, seriously.

I'm from a country that after WW2 has banned Hitler's 'Mein Kampf' and since it isn't anymore, more and more politicians coincidentally quote from it.

But you know, they had access to these books before. And I want to have the right and the ability to call them out on it. I want to see the direct parallels between their and Hitler's Africa-plan and their call for deportation.

When a book is censored, someone has to read it beforehand and decide for you whether YOU can read it too. You think it's bad? That's what criticism is for. Censorships only result in two things:

A) marginalized groups (as OP said) get more and more discriminated.

B) You will lose the right to think for yourself.

It's all fun and games and laughing at BookTok until you can't get on AO3 anymore, as someone who likes both romance and fanfic.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Love the idea of siblings by degrees! But I'm curious where the indexing starts - should your direct siblings (blood, adoptive, whatever) be your zeroeth degree or first degree siblings? Since first cousins are the "default" sort of cousins people think of if nobody specifies second/third/x times removed, to me it feels like siblings degrees would work the same way. But perhaps the offset counting is part of the system by design? Either way, excellent concept!

Each "Degree of Affinity" is indicative of a marriage connecting you and a relative. Your Immediate Siblings would be your Zero-degree siblings, since you are (hopefully) not married to them.

Your own spouse is technically your first-degree spouse, but since the degree is already implied by the 'spouse' you can drop it. If we ever get around to legalizing polyamory, your might be able to have second or third degree spouses to be able to describe legally recognized metamours.

Your step-siblings could be your siblings in the first degree, since there is a marriage connecting you two, but your spouse's brother is not your step-brother, because 'step' indicates the connecting marriage is not your own.

A half-sibling could possibly be considered a Sibling In The Half Degree, if your parents are married. I have a friend who has a little sister that was born to her father's second wife, so Step-sister isn't quite right, but Half-degree would be. A Half-sibling is connected to you by blood but not necessarily marriage, a Half-degree Sibling is connected to you by blood and marriage.

[radical-community-care]

tbh when I first saw the sentence "Activism is not cold-calling" I thought it was gonna go in a different direction. I fully agree with the post! and it reminds me of the advice on how to build community that is about *listening* to people first and actually engaging them in what they care about instead of rattling off some points YOU care about.

so for example, instead of going to Moderate Jason saying "Hello comrade do you have a minute to talk about socialism and how billionaires' taxes should pay for bike lanes!?" just have a normal conversation and ask them what kind of problems bother them or what difficulties they have to deal with in their day to day lives. and you actually listen and ask questions and care about what they think and see if you can find any common ground. maybe the two of you (or them and someone else you know) face a similar problem or one with the same root cause or with the same solution.

and this is not about getting them to parrot talking points or use the same kind of political language you do or join your group - this is about getting them to consider that maybe there are approaches to their problems that are community focused rather than individualistic, that are about shared humanity rather than pointing fingers at scapegoats, that are pushing towards flatter hierarchies rather than more authoritarianism.

again, they might not use or like all those particular words. maybe they'll say "back in my day, I would bike to school, it's a shame that's not safe anymore for my kids to do now." and then you two together can brainstorm ideas of what might be done about that in your specific circumstances. and you do what you can to help with it! whether you teach them about citizens initiatives or organise a "kiddical mass" (bike demo with kids) or whatever else fits.

but of course bike lanes might not be important to Moderate Jason at all. it's just one example. maybe they're a car nut and care about right to repair. or maybe they like sitting at home watching tv and care about avoiding ads and trackers, or about media depiction and representation of characters with a marginalised trait they or someone they care about has.

chances are, you will find *something* they want to talk about that is influenced by "politics" in a wider sense. and you can just mention how you see these issues or what you can think of that might help.

it helps to practice this approach in your head or with like-minded friends: go through all kinds of different things people care about and think how those could be done better in your utopia. and what might be small steps from here to there.

I do that with fiction constantly. from sitcoms to epic sff, I often go "how would I propose this group or society handle things/ what would I do to make their world a better, more just place?" Or just revelling in how cool the heroes are that they actually do good things (and remembering those tactics and figuring out how to apply them to the real world)

Activism is not cold-calling.

Activism is not cold-calling, and this is critically important to understand.

I'm seeing a lot of posts on here about 'building bridges' and 'finding community,' and then (extremely valid) response posts saying "BUT HOW??" And I'm going to explain something that can be very counter-intuitive: there is strategy involved in community.

As a longtime volunteer labour organizer, I’ve taken and taught many trainings on the strategy of talking. Something that surprises a lot of people is the very first thing you do in a union campaign. You sit down with your organizing committee, take out pen and paper, and literally map it out. You draw a physical map of the workplace: where are the entrances, exits, break rooms, supervisor offices. Essentially, ‘where is it safe to have a union conversation.’ Then you draw another physical chart of your coworkers. You sort out who is union-friendly, openly hostile to unions, or somewhere in the middle, and then you plan out very deliberately and carefully who talks to whom and in what order.

Consider: If Vocally Leftist Jane walks up to Conservative David and says "hey what do you think about unions," David is going to shut down immediately. He's not inclined to listen to Jane. But if Jane talks to Moderate Jason and brings him into the fold, then Jason is a far more effective strategic choice to talk to David, and David may actually hear him out without an instant reaction.

IMPORTANT CAVEAT: If Conservative David turns out to be Alt-Right David, and could be dangerous to follow organizers, we write him off. We are not trying to reach Alt-Right David. We are trying to reach Conservative David, who may actually be persuaded to find solidarity with other employees as fellow workers. Jason is a safe scout to find out which one he is. It does no one any good if Leftist Jane (or even Moderate Jane who is a visible minority) talks to Alt-Right David and puts herself on his radar. Not only has she done nothing to convince Alt-Right David to join a union - she's probably actively turned him against the idea - but now she's also in danger and the entire campaign is at risk. NOBODY WANTS THIS. Jane was NOT a hero for doing this. The organizing committee was foolish and enacted a terrible strategy to everyone's detriment.

Where you can make a difference is with people who will listen to you. You having a conversation with your well-meaning but clueless Centrist Democrat Auntie, and maybe gently helping her understand some things the media has been glossing over, is way more strategically useful than you marching up to MAGA Neighbour You've Met Once and trying to "build community" or "understand" them. They don't care. They're impervious, dangerous, and cruel. But maybe your beloved auntie will think about what you said, and then talk to her friend Anna who IDs as "fiscally conservative" but didn't vote because she can't bring herself to get on board with Trump. Then perhaps Anna talks to her brother Nic who has MAGA leanings but isn't all the way there yet. Proto-MAGA Nic would not have listened to you, nor would he have listened to Centrist Democrat Auntie, but he might absorb some of what his sister is saying.

This is not a cop-out or an echo chamber. This is you spending your time and energy strategically and safely. You are not a useful activist to anyone if you’re dead. Anyone who is telling you to hurl yourself directly at MAGA assholes like cannon fodder has no understanding of the strategy behind community building, and you should feel comfortable writing them off.

Last point: If you are tired, emotionally devastated, and/or in danger: take a break. This post is for people who would feel better jumping into action, not for people who are too overwhelmed to even think about it right now. You are worth so much even if you’re not actively Doing Activism, and your rest is worth more than “a break period so you can recharge and Do More Activism.” We all deserve the individual dignity of being worthy of comfort, rest & safety just on the basis of being human, outside of whatever we're doing for others' benefit. To deny ourselves that dignity is to devalue ourselves, and that’s the absolute last thing any of us should be doing right now.

[izvmimi]

cw: fluff. alcohol.

You’re starting to think Nami must have known something you didn’t, when she whispered a couple weeks ago that Zoro didn’t drink around people he had found attractive into your ear out of the blue, swiveling in her barstool once before sauntering off, leaving you with that information to do what you will. 

Confused, you turned back to Robin and she smiled, knowingly, before she went back to enthusing you about a classic novel you’d both read as children. You remembered the smile, the apples of your cheeks warming slightly, most likely from the cider you’d taken hardy sips from without a sufficient snack (clearly not for any other reason at all), and went back to discussing the plight of your favorite side character. 

But by the end of the night, a furtive glance over your shoulder located him at the opposite end of the pub, focusing on keeping up with the men in the corner.

The longer you look, the more you realize he’s trying to not look in your direction.

Or perhaps you’re simply imagining it.

—

Perhaps you weren’t.

Two weeks later, you decide to test out this theory, shifting from your usual commiseration with the crew’s women and unwittingly Sanji to sidle up close to Zoro, who is four drinks in and the type of stoic that comes with a man trying very hard not to reveal that he’s at least a bit tipsy. He’s near the dart board, having ignored Franky’s demands to play pool despite Franky having destroyed at least two pool tables between grazing them with his cyborg forearms and leaning too hard on the table, instead opting to challenge a few of the bar’s regulars.

Playing darts while drunk is probably a dangerous affair, but it will probably take more than that to kill anyone in the immediate vicinity. 

Tapping his elbow gently to get his attention is possibly one move too far.

“Hey, you won’t hit anything that way,” you joke, adjusting his aim ever so slightly with a careful maneuver.

Zoro freezes for a moment at your touch, a soft pink suddenly painted over his facial features. For a moment you worry you’ve embarrassed him, until he slowly clears his throat.

“Move around me to my other side,” he says.

Surprised, but figuring he just wants you to be careful, you do so, and to your surprise, his hand slips around your waist gently, pulling you close before he throws the dart. 

Taken aback, your heart skips a beat.

“Bullseye,” he says under his breath, leaning into you. He hasn’t let go,in fact turns you towards him so that your noses are inches apart, and his voice is lower, smooth like the top shelf liquor he’s too unrefined to drink.

Your heart catches back the beat, and doubles its pace.

Zoro’s eyes are heavy lidded and immediately desire-filled, and he is so far from his usual self it actually startles you. Turning your gaze quickly to confirm the dart landed in the place where he says, you turn away from him but he resists for a split second, not enough to truly impede your motion but enough to communicate he liked holding you.

“Yeah, that seems about right,” you say, lamely, flustered. He trails behind you a couple paces, coming to a stop when he places his hands on your shoulders.

Again, too close.

“You don’t trust me?” he asks again. He chuckles slowly under his breath and you turn quickly to look him in the eye.

“Are you making fun of me?” is your first go-to response, hostile to overcompensate for your jarred response to his sudden affection.

He raises both hands in front of him in the guise of defeat.

“Would never,” he says, the stupid smile on his face an unnatural replacement for his usual scowl.

You open your mouth to say something else, unsure of what’s going on, when he pulls you into his chest suddenly, and you shriek; a dart whirs past you just behind your head.

“Sorry!” Luffy yells from a distance.

You would yell back for him to be careful, but your heart is pounding again. Zoro looks up at Luffy, and you expect him to revert back to his normal self and yell, but instead he gives him a disapproving look, then looks back at you. 

“You okay?”

He’s still looking at you like that again, like he both wants to keep you in his pocket but also may decide at some point to devour you, still deciding on which one.

Nami is right.

Zoro doesn’t drink around people he finds attractive, and for good reason.

[h0neylevi]

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

chapter warnings: mentions of blood/cleaning of wounds

word count: 3.2k

It’s just after midnight when you make it to the metro platform.

The descent underground is quiet. Below the bustling city streets, you go through the process of boarding a train back home in a bit of a mindless daze, having done this cycle of late night shifts at the hospital countless times before.

The carriage is empty when you walk on board, silent except for the pneumatic hiss of the doors that slide closed behind you. You fall into the nearest seat with a heavy sigh.

It’s the first time in thirteen hours you’ve really been able to get off your feet.

Working four 12 hour days in a row can be tiring, but it’s worth it most of the time for the following four days off that you’re able to get. Four days off of freedom—which usually means catching up on errands. Laundry, getting groceries, and cleaning.

It’s just you now, so things tend to pile up much more quickly.

As you feel the rumble of movement beneath you, the momentum causing you to sway a little in your seat, you stare unblinking at the opposite window. Flashes of advertisements and thick concrete tunnel walls speed by in a blur, and you allow your mind to wander.

Maybe you could go to that new cafe in the morning that opened up on College Street. It’s been a while since you’ve taken a moment just for yourself. Or maybe you could take a book to the park after cleaning your apartment. The weather was supposed to be nice, and that used to be your favorite thing to do before…

The train slows to a stop before you continue down that line of thinking. With a droning chime, the doors open to signal would-be passengers to either depart or climb aboard.

A pleasant female voice erupts from the intercom system. “This is Freedom Park Station. Please stand clear of the doors.”

It’s not unheard of for others to be out so late, particularly on a Friday night, so to see a man walk aboard doesn’t immediately surprise you.

What does cause you to do a double take is the state of him.

The first thing you see is the insignia of the wings of freedom, a symbol you immediately recognize on the back of the green cloak covering his upper half from one of your favorite shows, Attack on Titan.

The second thing you notice is that he’s soaked.

That’s odd. You don’t remember it raining earlier in the day, but it could have been a brief downpour in another part of the city. And he’s clearly coming from an anime convention. Those were usually held at the convention center on the other side of the city.

The man heavily slumps forward against the railing. His back is turned toward you, but you watch him thoughtfully, admiring the impressive handiwork of his costume. From under the cloak, you see the intricately wrapped belts of the omni-directional gear, as well as the boxes along his thighs that are used in the show to store blades. When you see a reflection of an advertisement briefly glimmer off of the surface, you realize that they’re actually metal.

Those must be heavy. Did he make them himself?

The train begins to move again and your thoughts are stopped short when the man stumbles, nearly falling. That’s when he turns and you notice the blood.

His face is covered in it.

You’re on your feet before you even realize it. “Excuse me.”

He turns at the sound of your voice and you see the source: a rough cut just above his right eyebrow.

The man sways unsteadily on his feet against the movement of the train. The look he gives you is immediately distrusting, but he doesn’t back away.

You stop a few feet from him. “Sir, are you okay?” When his eyes narrow, you point to the badge pinned to your work scrubs. “I’m a nurse, see?”

You wait as his eyes study your hospital badge for a moment.

“Where the hell am I?”

Okay, that’s potentially a cause for concern. “Uh.” You try to remember what stop he got on from. “Freedom Park.” The look on his face doesn’t resemble recognition. “You’re not from around here?”

For a moment, he seems to think. “No.”

There’s a sharp jolt from the train car and you both sway a little, him more than you.

You gesture to the empty seat next to him. “Here. You should probably sit down.”

He doesn’t argue as he takes a seat.

Looking him over, you consider your options. It isn’t too late to take him back to the hospital, but you don’t exactly want to after spending the entire day there already. From the looks of it, it doesn’t look like he’ll need stitches, but it doesn��t feel right to leave him alone in the state he’s in either.

“Can you tell me what happened?” you ask.

The man looks around for a moment. The look on his face turns apprehensive. “I don’t remember. There was a flash… and then I just woke up here.”

You raise your brows. Something about the way he says it feels like he isn’t being completely honest, but you suppose the bleeding itself is a more pressing concern right now anyway.

“Okay,” you say. “Well, that cut doesn’t look too deep, but you should get it cleaned.” You pause for a moment, debating. “My apartment is at the next stop.”

You had meant it as a suggestion, but the man doesn’t seem to follow.

“I can look at it for you,” you add. “Maybe help you find wherever you were supposed to stay.”

He seems to consider it for a long moment, looking from you to around the empty train car and then back to your badge.

“Alright,” he says as the train begins to slow. When it comes to a stop and the doors open with their loud hydraulic hiss, he follows you back out onto the platform.

It’s quiet for most of the walk back. You go through the motions of exiting the station—swiping your pass and leading the way up the winding corridors to street level while the man follows, watching your movements and your surroundings with a puzzled sort of awe.

It isn’t until you’re pulling out the keys to your place before you turn to him again.

“So, what’s your name?”

He gives you a subdued look. “Levi.”

You smile.

“No, really…” you press, looking over his clothes again. It’s obvious that’s what he’s going for now that you see him up close—the scout uniform and the way he’s styled his hair. Come to think of it, he has Levi’s frame as well. And his eyes.

It’s a damn good cosplay actually. If Levi Ackerman were to magically come out of the television screen as a flesh and blood person, he’d look exactly like this guy.

But judging by his expression and the complete lack of response, he isn’t interested in giving you any sort of real information.

You turn then, your smile dropping, and lead the way into the apartment building. “O-kay.”

It’s possible, you guess, that his name really is Levi. Just a very bizarre coincidence that he happens to look and act exactly like your favorite character from an anime and also likes the anime as well. There are billions of people in the world though. Stranger things happen all the time.

Reluctant to piss him off further, the rest of the walk up to the second floor is done in more silence. You unlock your front door and lead the way inside, smiling when you hear the telltale trill of your cat greeting you at the door.

“Hello, Luna,” you greet, bending down to run your hand between the shorthair’s ears. She pushes herself up into your hand a little further with a chirp.

Still at the door, the man—Levi—watches.

“Luna?” he asks in a flat tone.

You straighten back up, noting his hesitancy to walk forward. “You’re not allergic, are you?” That would be some cosmic bad luck on his part to deal with a head wound and an allergic reaction in one night.

But thankfully, he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s affectionate but she’s harmless,” you say, sidestepping around your cat to walk further into your living room. When Levi joins you, you gesture to the sofa. “Have a seat there. I’ll be right back with some supplies.”

You don’t wait around to see if he does what you say, instead dipping down the hall toward a small office. It’s mostly just a place for all of your trinkets—a desk filled with a few figures and a computer. Some bookshelves line the walls, collecting dust. It’s been months since you’ve picked up a good book or did much of anything in this room, really. But you know exactly where to look for the supply kits you’ve managed to stock up on from the hospital.

After you find the suture thread and some wound wash, you grab a towel from the bathroom next door and return to the living room.

Levi is there, sitting on the edge of the sofa as if he’s afraid to get comfortable. His gaze keeps jumping around the room, taking in the layout and decor, and his fists rest stiffly on his knees. Luna is next to him, tentatively sniffing at his knuckles with a curious stretch of her neck.

You shoo her away gently and take her place on the sofa. The angle of light allows you to see the source of the drying blood on his face a bit better.

Quietly, you look him over. “How are you feeling?”

He watches as you slip on a pair of gloves. “I’ve had worse.”

You snort lightly and begin to prep the fresh towel with wound wash.

“Do you have stuff like this happen to you often?” you ask, now reaching to press the towel to his face.

At your question, he pulls his one uncovered eye from you, surveying the room again. “Nothing quite like this.”

“What happened?”

Levi is quiet for a moment before he says, “It was nothing. I fell.”

You pause your movements, frowning. “This doesn’t look like the kind of cut you’d get from a fall.”

“Why does it matter?”

Judging by his defensive tone, he knows more than he’s letting on, but you can’t figure out why he isn’t being honest.

But with him already in your apartment, you don’t want to do anything to unnecessarily antagonize him. Even in his current state, he looks strong and capable enough to hurt you.

Probably best to just change the subject.

“Did you have somewhere you were staying?” you ask, returning to your task.

You gently dab the towel down the curve of his jaw and feel the muscle tense beneath your touch.

“No,” he finally says.

“You came all the way here for a convention and didn’t book a hotel?”

“A convention?”

“Yeah,” you nod, gesturing to his clothes. “You’re a scout, right?”

At your words, his expression becomes a bit more relieved. He nods. “Yes. I got onto that... train thing because I hoped it might take me to headquarters.”

You blink as you listen to him. Did he hit his head hard enough for him to think that he is Levi Ackerman?

Maybe you should take him to the hospital anyway just to get him checked out. He seems perfectly lucid otherwise though, if a bit confused.

You reach forward and check his head wound again. Just like you thought, it’s too shallow to need stitches and isn’t bleeding anymore, so that’s a good sign. Maybe it could wait until morning.

“Do you feel sick?” you ask, searching his expression for any lack of focus or disorientation but find none. “Nauseated? Dizzy?”

“Other than the stabbing pain above my eye?” he deadpans, glaring at you. “No. I feel fine.”

You sigh. This is insane, considering letting a complete stranger stay in your apartment. But he doesn’t have anywhere else to go and he’s still soaking wet. You’d feel guilty if you just let him go and he got into trouble. At the very least, you could make sure he has somewhere to sleep. 

You get to your feet and look over his clothes once more. “You can stay here tonight if you’d like. I think I might have some old clothes you can sleep in, and there’s a shower down the hall.”

He gives you a distrustful look. “You’re putting a lot of faith in a stranger.”

You raise a brow. “I guess we both are. But if you’d rather sleep out in the cold, then be my guest.”

That seems to give him pause, and he looks around the room once more.

“Where did you say the shower was?”

“Down the hall, second door on the left,” you tell him. “I can get you a towel and some clothes.”

You dispose quickly of the bloodied towel in your kitchen trash along with your gloves and turn back down the hall again. When you return, Levi is standing awkwardly next to your sofa. He seems to be pointedly ignoring Luna, who is still curiously sniffing him from the armrest.

“These should fit,” you tell him, patting the folded up sweatpants and an oversized shirt tucked beneath your arm. “Just leave your things in the bathroom and I’ll make sure your clothes are washed in the morning.”

He takes the items from you with another skeptical glance. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I have to do laundry anyway,” you wave him off. “It’s no trouble.” Quickly, you point at him. “Just don’t scrub at that cut. You’ll just make it bleed again.”

He doesn’t move immediately when you back away to let him pass by, but the promise of a hot shower seems to eventually override whatever keeps him fixed in place. Without another word, he retreats down the hall, right to the second door on the left like you told him.

What a strange man.

It takes fifteen minutes before you hear the shower turn on.

In that time, you busy yourself with finding a spare blanket and a pillow and leave them on the sofa. You tidy up a little next, grabbing leftover drinking glasses off the table and discarded socks that had been pushed under the coffee table. It isn’t much, but you’re left feeling slightly less anxious about the state of your place by the time you’re finished. You like to keep things tidy to begin with, but the place certainly looks lived in right now.

Curious, you sink into a chair and pull out your phone while you’re waiting and click on the search engine, quickly typing in a few keywords to check on any local anime conventions happening in the area.

There are no ongoing events, and the next one isn’t happening until six months from now.

Well, that eliminates your theory. So then what the hell was he doing cosplaying on the street on a random Friday? If he was with someone, he wouldn’t have been wandering around alone and he said he wasn’t staying anywhere in the area.

The thought occurs to you that maybe this is some sort of trap to lure unsuspecting women into vulnerable positions, preying on a person’s compassion. But then, that was very real blood on his face and a very real wound, and he has had ample opportunities to attack and rob you if that was truly what he was after. He might look intimidating, but there’s nothing about him that screams that you’re in any sort of immediate danger either.

Maybe you can get some real answers out of him in the morning when he’s less grumpy.

You’re feeding Luna in the kitchen when Levi reappears.

With silent relief, you note that his wound seems to still be fine. He looks healthier in general after cleaning off, but he also looks… well, even more like Levi Ackerman. It’s kind of uncanny.

“What?”

You jump when you hear his voice. He’s watching you from the living room, looking about as confused as you feel.

Shit, have you been staring? “Nothing.” You sigh and rub at your eyes. It’s been too long of a day to start questioning your sanity. “Are you hungry or anything? I have some leftovers I can heat up really quick.”

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head and turns his attention to the blanket and pillow on the sofa. 

Carefully, he arranges it how he likes and sits down. He glances at the television on the other side of the room before looking around again, lingering at times on things like the lamps in the corners and over to the open kitchen.

His hands fidget in his lap.

“I’ll be out of here first thing in the morning.”

The sound of his voice surprises you.

“Where are you going to go?”

He shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. He’s a grown man, so it shouldn’t concern you what he does. But his comments about not being from here, and the whole thing about him trying to find ‘headquarters’? You’d feel better knowing there isn’t anything you’ve missed.

“At least let me take you to the hospital to get that cut checked out,” you suggest. “We can go first thing while your clothes are drying.”

He scoffs but the sound is entirely devoid of humor. “I told you I’m fine.”

“So it’ll be a quick visit and you can be on your way in no time,” you reply. “One of the doctors I work with can look you over before we open. He won’t mind.”

“Or I could just leave in the middle of the night.”

“I guess.” You shrug. “I wouldn’t be able to stop you, but that’s your choice. My conscience can be clear as long as I’ve offered to help you. I can’t make you take it, but I think it’s a good idea.”

He glares at you from the sofa, but doesn’t reply.

You get the sense that he doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. With the night he’s had, he probably just wants some rest, and you’re more than willing to get some sleep yourself.

Now that the shock of the night has worn off a bit, your body feels heavy as you get to your feet.

Levi stays quiet as you move around the room, shutting off lights and locking your front door. He moves to lay down once he gathers what you’re doing.

“I’ll get you up in the morning,” you tell him from the hallway. “Get some sleep.”

That earns you little more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

When you get into your room, you make sure to lock the door and find a baseball bat from the depths of your closet to sit by your bed. You’ve always been a light sleeper, so you hope that you’ll be able to hear if he decides to try anything.

You go through your nightly routine and climb into bed, then send off a text before closing your eyes—a message to one of your friends and fellow co-workers at the hospital.

Hey, could you do me a huge favor tomorrow morning? It’ll be quick.

Hopefully, when you wake up, Levi will still be there.

[wonderjanga]

Where Have you Been?

This is inspired by this post.

Billy was having a rough day. Scratch that. A rough couple of months. Recently, he’s been… losing himself? He doesn’t know how to put it into words. It’s just that more he’s Marvel, the more he forgets about being Billy. In all honesty, it’s scaring him. What’s even worse is that, no matter what others think, he isn’t in control anymore, and Billy knows it. One moment, he’ll just be Billy Batson and then the next he’ll be Marvel with no recollection of even saying the word. Billy truly wished he hadn’t noticed the gaps in his memory getting bigger.

Speaking of memory gaps, Billy had a pretty big one to fill considering all he did was go to bed, and was then greeted with the misfortune of waking up on a random beach with the lower half of his body slightly wet from the tide. All he knows is that he’s not near Fawcett, let alone Iowa, because last he checked, it was a landlocked state. So, he got up, and decided to go find out where he was.

Billy: *wandering around while shaking any sand off himself, eventually spotting a flag* “Oh! I’m in… I still have no idea.”

Glasses Lady: *approaches him* “Por que você não está na escola?” (Translation: Why aren’t you in school?)

Billy: *frog blinks* “Huh?”

Billy was… pretty sure that was Spanish. So he’s probably still on earth. Maybe. After a little bit of back-and-forth, the Glasses Lady finally realized he couldn’t understand what Billy was only half sure was Spanish. In the end, she just started taking him around to find somebody who could speak English.

Glasses Lady: “¿Você fala inglês? Acho que este é o filho de um turista.” (Translation: Do you speak English? I think this is a tourist's son.)

Old Granny: “Não. Pobre garoto.” *leans down to pinch his cheek* (Translation: “No. Poor boy.)

Billy: *confused as to why this random old lady is pinching his cheek*

Eventually, after a while, they did find somebody who could speak English.

Billy: “Do you know where I am, miss?”

College Student: “You’re in Brazil.”

Billy: “Brazil??” *sounds super concerned* “Isn’t that in South America? I think?”

College Student: “It is. How did you even get here? Are you on vacation?”

Billy: “No? I just woke up here.” *wondering how he’s gonna explain this to Rosa*

College Student: “What?” *also now concerned because she thinks this child might’ve been a victim of trafficking*

Billy: “Uhm… you have like a map that you can show me?”

College Student: “I don’t think a map will help you, bud.”

Billy: *shrugs* “Theres always the chance it could, miss.”

College Student: “I guess?” *pulls up google maps*

Billy: *zooms out so he can just see the countries* “Oh okay. So not that far away.”

College Student: “You’re plenty far away what are you talking about? Also, why’re you sandy?” *wipes off some sand her phone*

Billy: *ignores both questions* “Do you know which way is north?”

College Student: “Uh… it should be that way.” *points in the direction*

Billy: “Oh thank you!” * is about to runoff, but looks back at the Glasses Lady* “And gracias?” *looks to the College Student* “That how you say it right?”

College Student: “No, that’s Spanish.” *shakes head* “It’s supposed to be obrigado.” (Translation: Thank you.)

Billy: “Oh, obrigado!” *definitely butchered the pronunciation and runs off to he north*

College Student: “Wait, come back!”

As soon as Billy was out of sight, he shazamed and flew in the direction she pointed in. Now, the boy wouldn’t admit this, but he actually flew slower than normal. He didn’t wanna think about the future confrontation with Rosa, not to mention his other family members. Was he prolonging the inevitable? Yes. Did he feel guilty? Also, yes. Did that mean he was gonna speed up though? …No.

Billy was just passing over Mexico when his JL comm started going off like crazy.

Marvel: *answers his comm*

Batman: “Marvel. Watchtower. Now.”

Marvel: “Huh? Why did I do something wrong?”

Batman: “You went AWOL for three weeks, and then the first sign we find that you’re alive is a video of you partying at a Mardi Gras parade in Brazil. I really wonder what you did wrong.”

Billy was straight speechless for a solid minute. Three weeks? Three weeks? The memory gap was way bigger than he thought.

Marvel: *trying to find words* “I- I’m gonna be honest I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He honestly felt like crying. Genuine, ugly, crying. Because now he knows it’s gotten to a point where he can’t shrug this off anymore. He could do one day. He could do two days. He’s even gone a week before. But three weeks? That’s nearly a month and he doesn’t remember anything. Billy was now being forced to acknowledged how big of a problem this was.

By now, he had stopped, still floating in mid air.

Batman: “Is that you confirming you were too intoxicated to reach out to us or-”

Marvel: “Mr. Batman Sir, I really can’t talk right now.” *can feel himself starting to hyperventilate* “I’ll come by later. I promise.”

Batman: “No, not later. Immediately. We all want a word with you.”

Marvel: *grimaces* “I’m sorry. I just really can’t right now. I’m really sorry.” *hangs up*

Billy just started hyperventilating after that. His chest felt tight, his world felt like it was one the brink of crashing down. He needed to go see the wizard. He needed help. The wizard could definitely help. So, he went to the rock.

Wizard: *sounds solemn* “I’m sorry, Billy.”

That was literally all the old man told him before he started talking about how the gods were starting to exert more of their influence on him. And he basically had no say, say in some of the things he would start to do from now on. Just when Billy’s life couldn’t get harder. Please, Gods, give him a break.

[lizardlicks]

i can not "this tbh" hard enough. Remember when Emma Watson gave a speech about bringing men into feminism because dismantling the patriarchy benefits everyone?? Remember that was in 2014??? Remember that it was actually working and actively recruiting men away from the manosphere, chan boards and subreddits with the promise that if they hated the game and it made them miserable, men didn't have to play it either?

You can thank a rad fem for the full 180 on that. And no, I'm not exaggerating, most of the movement leaders have gone on record saying that they actively worked to reframe their gender divisive ideology to make it more hip and cool sounding, then methodically went after the younger generation of queers who hadn't yet establised ties or absorbed any of the history-- specifically young wlw-- in the new and fast growing online communities on Twitter and Tumblr.

Radical Feminism is a hold over from the feminism of the 60's through the 80's. While the feminists of that day made massive strides for equality in the work place, it left behind vulnerable populations and didn't make very strong in-roads to cross collaboration, inclusivity, and diversity. It was already considered too ridgid and out of date by the 90's third wave feminist movement, and by the 2010's with the expansion of queer rights and queer visibility in online spaces, while still being at least mostly protected by anonymity, we were making huge in roads towards the idea that feminism was for everyone, and the ultimate antidote to patriarchal power structures. Conversation focused mostly on addressing those structures, how to undermine and dismantle them, how to empower the men in our lives to do that, and to support them in breaking away from it. It's where the idea of toxic masculinity came from: not that being male is toxic, but that there are ways of performing masculinity that are toxic, ways that are healthy and foster community and growth in their lives, and that men could still be manly men without the extra baggage attached. That our spouses, brothers and cousins could do it better than their father's did. That they could get therapy, have have help, and pass something better onto their sons.

I have a lot of cis male friends who I would have described as chest thumping manly men types back in the day, who sat down and had thoughtful conversations, who came out the other side staunchly feminist, far more aware and intentional, and brought that into their friend groups and work places.

If you want to know what happened? We stopped having that conversation. The rad fems were successful, they got into the heads of young fem queers and convinced them to put a wedge into their lives with men.

They even got into the heads of the transfems they hate! Do you know how many fresh hatched eggs I see to this day spouting anti-male propaganda that was originally handed down from TERFs? (Ladies, they're not going to welcome you into the non-existed Secret Inner Magical Sanctum of Womanhood no matter how loudly you scream about men sucking. They don't even do it for most cis women.)

And meanwhile the pewdiepies and Andrew Tates of the world never stopped talking to the men. Who did you think they were going to listen to after getting shut out and shut down?

And if you don't believe me, this blog has existed for over a decade. You can go back into the archive and view posts from 2012. Reblogged a LOT of feminist posts back then because there WERE a lot! Whole reams of queer and feminist theory were being drafted in real time between the people it affected most. You can see the shift especially in 2016 onwards in less and less as we quit being able to have those conversations without a rad fem jumping in and either shifting the narrative or distracting everyone with nonsense and sometimes vile accusations to shut it down completely.

This was calculated and intentional because a handful of people where very pissy that they weren't leading the direction of the conversation in the new online era anymore.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

[fastandcarlos]

Paddock Naps : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: when you and charles fall asleep in the paddock, team ferrari are on hand to tease you both about it

The weekend was weighing down on Charles as he tucked himself up into your side at the back of the garage, feeling his eyes immediately shut. Your arm wrapped around Charles as he made himself comfortable, resting your head on top of his as you soon found yourself drifting off into a dream as well. 

You weren’t quite sure how long you slept for, unaware of the members of the team who kept walking past you, smiling down at how adorable the two of you looked curled up together.  

Several of them made sure to take pictures too, knowing they could get Charles with it later. 

As Carlos arrived where you were with Fred, they both decided to take a seat, glancing across at you both. “Do you think if we had the team meeting here, he’d wake up and realise?” Fred asked him. 

“He looks like he’s in a happy dream,” Carlos commented, as he noticed the faint smile on Charles’ face. “He’s as useful asleep as he is awake in a team meeting though.” 

Carlos leant forwards as he pulled his phone out from his back pocket, leaning closer towards you both. As he went to open his camera, the phone slipped out of his hands and went crashing to the ground, the sound making you flinch as your eyes opened. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Carlos hurriedly said, reaching down to pick up his phone. 

“It’s fine,” you whispered, rubbing the sleep from out of your eyes. “I didn’t realise that I drifted off, I was just going to sit here whilst Charles had a rest.” 

To your side Charles was still fast asleep, unaware of anything that was going on around him. As your eyes glanced down you had to bite down on your bottom lip to hold back your laughter as you noticed his lips slightly parted from where he was heavy breathing. 

Your hand reached across and brushed his hair back out of his face, your touch nice and gentle to make sure that you didn’t disturb him. 

“Has he missed much?” You asked Carlos, stretching your legs out as you tried to wake them up again. “He said something about a meeting but I don’t know when it was.” 

“Don’t worry, you’ve not missed anything. We can just let the precious baby sleep for a little while longer.” 

Your head shook as Carlos sent you a grin, unable to stop himself from teasing him. As you spoke, Charles began to stir, but his eyes remained shut, blocking out the noise from around the garage. 

“Don’t let him hear you say that,” you warned, knowing exactly what Charles would do if he knew what the two of you said about him when he wasn’t listening.  

A groan came from beside you, “what am I not supposed to hear someone say?” 

Slowly, Charles began to sit himself up, stretching his arms up into the air. His smile faded as he noticed and Carlos both looking at them, heads shaking at the sigh that he let go of before dropping back down into your side again. 

“Morning princess,” Carlos joked, feeling Charles’ eyes narrow in on him. “Nothing like a nap at work to get you through the day, right?” 

Charles’ eyes flickered around, a gulp running down his throat as he realised where the three of you were sat, hidden away at the back of the garage with the rest of the team working around you. 

“Of all the places to sleep, a noisy car garage is where you choose,” Carlos added, smirking at Charles as he buried his head into your neck, hiding away from it all. 

Charles stirred once again as he sat himself up, smiling across at you. As a couple of engineers passed by, they smiled across at Charles, his smile in reply innocent and unaware of the photos that had been taken of him.  

“I hope you know what you’ve just put your poor girlfriend to having to have your weight resting on her for the past hour,” Carlos warned him, pointing across in your direction. 

Charles muttered an apology across at you, but you shook him off, assuring him that you didn’t mind. Knowing that he was resting was the most important thing for you at least. 

“At least you’re awake for your meeting,” you smiled across at him. 

Charles threw his head back, “I was hoping I might’ve slept through and missed that thing.” 

“Fred isn’t that nice,” you joked, nudging Charles’ side. “Plus, meetings are quite important for the races, remember?” 

Charles’ eyes rolled as you stood up from where you were sat, extending your hand out for Charles to take so that he could stand up and get moving too.  

“Do you think many people saw us?” Charles whispered into your ear as Carlos went ahead of you. 

Judging by the looks on the teams’ faces you already knew the answer, slowly nodding your head in response to Charles as another groan escaped him. 

“I think you might want to show your face in as few places around the garage as possible this weekend,” you told him, “but if this was Carlos, you’d be the exact same, you two are as bad as each other sometimes.” 

Charles went to reply but another yawn came from him, still exhausted and wishing that he could just go back and rest at the hotel with you. 

“You’re not much good driving your car if you keep yawning.” 

“I’m just knackered, I don’t know what to do.” 

Your hand rested against Charles’ shoulder, understanding just how tired he was. It had been a long couple of weeks of racing nonstop leaving Charles on the go wondering when he might finally be able to get some rest. 

The only bonus of it all was that you were there travelling with him, offering your services as his personal pillow whenever he needed it, giving him some time to forget about the stress of the race for a little while. 

“We’ll be able to head home soon,” you reminded him, straightening out Charles’ top for him. “Two more days of racing and then we’ll be free.” 

Charles’ smile slowly turned up, “I can’t wait to sleep in our own bed again and just cuddle, forget about work for a little while.” 

The comfort of being able to go home soon was the only thing keeping Charles going, he wasn’t quite sure how he ever used to get through triple headers without you if he was honest, relying on you to keep him motivated and as well rested as you could. 

“Don’t go sleeping during your meeting,” you joked as you stopped outside of the team room door. You stretched up onto your tiptoes and placed a kiss on Charles’ cheek, feeling him pull you back towards him though as you tried to pull back away. 

Your head shook as the door opened to reveal Fred, hand on his waist as he waited for Charles to enter. You already knew he was late as he sleepily made his way up to the room, with the rest of the team glancing across at him expectantly through the doorway. 

His sad eyes looked across at you, “wait for me until I’m done,” Charles asked you, “I might need another nap after listening to these guys bang on for an hour.” 

“I’ll be right here, promise.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[venomhound]

Hazbin Hotel - Morning Routines

Kind of a part 2 to the Sleeping Habits Post??? While that one is about falling asleep with them, this one is about what its like to wake up with them. Same lineup; Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer. I... also might have accidentally started a Charlie one so I might be doing more parts to these (｡ŏ_ŏ)

Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; NSFW in Vox's section; mostly just nuclear powered fluff; somebody PLEASE get Lucifer a doctor the man is so depressed (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

As gone over in my sleeping habits post, Alastor does not like sharing a bed normally. But if it does happen to be a blue moon and he actually stayed the whole night; it is a sight to behold in the morning.

Alastor's hair is naturally curly. Due to internalized racism (from you know, the 1920s), Alastor insists his hair must be straight and has a crazy hair routine to keep it that way. One of many reasons why his hair is so... gnarly looking.

Right after he wakes up in the mornings though, his bedhead breaks through the illusion. You get to see the glorious sight of Alastor's hair attempting to go back to its natural form. The edges of his locks are making small loops in all directions, and his face is framed in loose ringlets.

Unfortunately, this only lasts for about ten minutes at most before he goes to "fix" it.

Other then getting to see that beautiful sight, the mornings are the same regardless of if he stayed in the bed with you or not; You always get to wake up to his wonderful cooking.

Alastor has unfortunately had to take it upon himself to be the hotel chef. Charlie did try to do it for a little bit, but that resulted in more fires and ambiguous remains then anything. Vaggie and Husk can barely operate a microwave. Nifty is well... Nifty.

So Alastor pops into the hotel kitchen at around 7am to start cooking breakfast for the hotel. More 7:30 if his hair has been particularly unruly that day.

Alastor pokes fun at everyone over being their chef, but he really likes it actually. He will never admit that to anyone though. He finds the mornings relaxing because he gets to just cook, something that he enjoys and thats deeply nostalgic for him. It starts him off on the right foot for the day.

The only times it starts him on the wrong foot, is when Lucifer decides to get up at an ungodly hour (or straight up pull an all nighter), just so he can steal the kitchen and make the hotel breakfast instead.

Lucifer does this because he thinks he is a better chef then Alastor. Surely, Alastor's annoyance is proof of that! But Alastor is actually pissed off because his plans for the morning got set on fire by Lucifer's dumb ego.

Alastor really does go above and beyond as the chef by the way. For a cannibal, you would never expect how respectful he is of everyone's dietary preferences. If your a vegetarian, or even a vegan, Alastor won't blow you off. He will make something for everyone that still works for you, or just make you something special. He sees it less as you having a dietary restriction and more as a challenge of his skills.

Anyways, thanks to Alastor, mornings at the hotel are always extremely nice. Everyone comes down to eat together, hang out, and just be. Its a tranquil time and atmosphere that he has taken great care to cultivate. Sets him up perfectly mentally for his afternoon radio shows.

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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Vox always wakes up with a big sigh. He is very much that type of person whose first thought when waking up is, 'goddamn it, I woke up'. Hates leaving the bed but knows he has to.

At least Vox stops having those thoughts when you become apart of his life.

If your still in the bed when he wakes up, Vox is immediately comforted by your weight on his chest. He cant help but smile as his arms tighten around you. One of Vox's hands starts absentmindedly carding through your hair as he goes over everything he has to do that day in his head.

If your not in the bed when Vox wakes up, it completely fucks with his mind. His sleeping body does not register you moving or getting up at all. So from Vox's perspective, you were in his arms one second then... not. Vox will wake up to you not there and be super confused. He will legit start looking for you like a puppy.

Depending on your relationship status with him, Vox might even just assume that he dreamt/hallucinated the whole encounter with you. Only realizing that it actually happened upon outside evidence.

Operating on the assumption that you two are a thing; Vox now tries to keep his mornings flexible because of you. They used to be very regimented. Vox would wake up, get dressed, grab a coffee, then be right out the door to head to work. But now that your here, the mornings are much more relaxed.

When you first move in, Vox's first order of business is to hire a personal chef. Don't get me wrong, Vox loves it when you cook for him. The guy absolutely melts when you do. But the reality is he loves it a little... too much. Which often results in no breakfast actually being had because Vox ends up dragging you back to the bedroom. Of course, that's if he doesn't end up fucking you right on the counter or kitchen table.

Look. Seeing you by the stove in an apron just does something to him, alright?

If you ever even asked Vox if he knew how to cook, the guy would probably bluescreen. The only thing he knows how to ""cook"" is 'takeout'. (image included) If he tried to boil an egg, he would burn the water.

So yeah. Vox takes initiative to get you two a chef. He doesn't want you to have to cook for him anyway; he wants it to be an act of love rather then an obligation. If you push Vox and say you want to cook for him, he will making heart eyes and be ready to marry you on the spot.

Seriously. Make him cute, homemade lunches for work. Vox will brag about them to everyone. Put adorable love notes in there and everything. The guy will be on his knees.

Regardless of who actually made the breakfast, Vox always has it with you. He may be a busy man, but he makes sure this is a time you get him exclusively. Vox lets you know of his schedule for the day (assuming Valentino doesnt set it on fire ofc) and when he plans on being home.

When Vox leaves for work he actually has a genuine smile on his face. Don't get me wrong, he still hates it and cant wait to get back home to you. But Vox doesn't feel that same crushing dread that he did before.

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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

It used to be so hard to get up for him. It wasn't uncommon for Lucifer to just wallow in bed for an entire day. But now that your here, everything has changed. Lucifer actually has a reason to get up in the mornings again. He used to just go back to sleep and pretend the world doesn't exist.

He is a morningbird by nature, so he often wakes up before you. However, Lucifer hates leaving your arms and the cozy bed. So one of two things happens depending on how he is feeling.

If Lucifer is feeling good, or just particularly lovey that morning; he will pull you extra close to him and start kissing all over you. You'll wake up to the wonderful feeling of fleeting kisses and his smile on your skin. No better way to start the day.

As soon as he notices your awake, Lucifer moves to place quick, chaste kisses all over your face. All while asking, "How are you feeling, Ducky?", "Did you sleep okay?", "Have any fun dreams?".

Lucifer looks at you with the most adoring look in his eyes, desperate to snuggle and feel your skin on his. He wants to listen to you talk about anything and everything.

After awhile of cuddling and pillow talk, you have to be the one to convince Lucifer to get up. He will playfully whine and try to keep you in the bed, but he won't keep it up for long. Lucifer also cant wait to make you a wonderful breakfast and talk more while he cooks too~

Lucifer is a chatterbox when he wants to be. Especially with someone he loves. He basically wants to imbibe your entire being; that includes getting to know every random thought you have and every dark corner of your mind.

But if Lucifer feels the weight of depression weighing him down that morning, he simply snuggles deeper into you when he wakes. His grip on you tightens, and he pulls the sheets tighter around you two. Like he is building a cocoon or trying to shield you both from the outside.

Sometimes you can tell as soon as he wakes up that he is in a bad state. Instead of kisses, you are woken up by the trembling of his small form. Shaking with unshed tears and fresh pain from old wounds.

Lucifer clings to you desperately; the grip of his claws threatening to break your skin. You have to physically force him away from you just so you can look him in the eyes. Even then, Lucifer whimpers and tries to hug you tighter in protest.

He will begin to plead with you. Saying things like "Don't leave me" or "Please stay". You kiss him gently and bring him into your chest as he finally begins to sob. You two stay there for a long time. Lucifer is extra clingy that day. Attached to you at the hip and always holding your hand in his. His heart rate picks up and he starts to get frantic if your fingers slip out of his.

Mornings with Lucifer are overall just very slow. Meandering. Lucifer's safe place has become the bed since the heights of his depression, so he is reluctant to leave it. Some dark part of him feels that the longer he can keep you in bed, the longer he wont have to say an inevitable 'goodbye'.

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FURTHER READING ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧

Its a super silly idea, but I love >>THIS POST<< by @antiheroalastor where you find out Alastor has a extensive skincare routine.

Cute imagine by @voxisdaddy where Vox has to cuddle you to fall asleep can be found >>HERE<<

Then something more spicy, >>HERE<< are some ADORABLE Lucifer aftercare headcanons by @redr0sewrites. Rose writes the rambling, dorky, disaster Lucifer that I have envisioned in my head PERFECTLY.

[the-warlock-syndicate]

What is the purpose of a sex scene? Well on a completely literal level, it is to depict a character having sex. And if you only watch films on a completely literal level with no nuance or examination, I expect sex scenes would be as pointless as eating or sleeping.

It is an interesting question though. Departing from that framing, sex scenes can convey an awfully large range of themes and messages. But, the more interesting piece of the question, which I think you are right to contribute, is where exactly do we think the messages effectiveness is enhanced by a full sex scene rather than fade to black?

I remember Oppenheimer in theaters, and thinking that the sex scene was overdone. I don't quite recall how explict it was, but it seemed over the top, and exposing a historical event which gave insight to his character was not really added to by drawing it out.

On the other hand, there are movies and shows where the full explicit sex scene is narratively important. This is not to suggest anything about the writing chops of the directors, but rather that the plot, the way it is arranged, benefits more from an explicit sex scene than fade to black.

Horror films in general, and Jason in particular, make a lot more sense to have explicit sex scenes. They are generally operating off an old fashioned puritan idea of sexuality, and the logic of the movie is that the characters brought it upon themselves for being so slutty. Which is why the virginal good girl ends up living. The sex scene is important for the message, as something for the movie to rail against. Sure, leaving things ambiguous might have implied the teens were fucking, but that is pretty weak when the subtext is that extra-marital sex is bad. Its like a movie with an anti-drug subtext, but the main character who looks like a stoner is never actually depicted lighting up.

Since Netflix is on my mind, let's talk about a couple animated shows. I've joked with friends that a lot of Netflix shows have a 'Netflix Syndrome', which I use to mean that a somewhat more lax approach to what gets greenlit means a corresponding increase in blood, murder and sex, because it is perceived to be allowed. Particularly with 'adult animation', which needs to prove to its audience that it can be a cool and grownup artistic medium, and swings the pendulum a bit far in the other direction of edginess by overcompensating.

The two shows that spring to mind here are Castlevania, and Blue-Eye Samurai. Now, Castlevania, while I did enjoy it, I think does swing heavily into the Netflix Syndrome arena. Edgy for the sake of differentiating from children's shows, to the point where it feels like overcompensating out of insecurity. There are a fair couple sexy scenes that I think were unnecessary, with fade to black being better options. Also grimderp plot twists lmao. But I do think that one of the biggest sex scenes, Alucard in the BDSM threesome, had its message enhanced by the explicit nature. Spoiler alert, Alucard is lost and directionless, opens his heart and his home to strangers to make friends. One thing leads to another, they are all in bed together, in what should be a culminating moment for him to get out of his depressive funk, see the light and joy in the world, and open up. And when he is at his most vulnerable, being tied up in a particularly kinky threesome, they betray and try to murder him, and he tries to murder them back. Now, there are other ways to write a story in which one gets betrayed while vulnerable. But if you are going to have a sex scene, the scene is better served by going through with the whole thing, instead of fade to black, which deeply weakens the impact.

Blue-Eye Samurai has a couple of sex scenes, which I think work, because the titular character has a lot to work through with regards to her sexuality. Between not being comfortable with female norms and behaviors in a still very male dominated society, crossdressing as a man 90% of the time, and having a particularly odd relationship with her sexuality as an object of desire, owing to her mixed race Japanese-European status which has people see her as a hideous abomination or 'exotic' beauty, full sex scenes exploring these dynamics I think are warranted. Particularly the one with spoiler again, her husband, and the feeling that she could reclaim a degree of femininity in being desired sexually, before being betrayed for her masculine qualities.

I'm not the biggest film buff, so I struggle to name more movies, because there are truly an abundance of movies with no sex whatsoever, and the ones with sex do utilize a lot of fade to black themselves.

"sex scenes have no narrative purpose" is such a funny take on so many levels. people will really believe that the whole human experience is valuable to portray artistically except sex, which of course has never held emotional weight or significance for anybody

[torturedlexdepartment]

Roadside Confessions

Rafe Cameron x fem reader

Author's note: super old fic but it's sweet..hope yall enjoy

Warnings: SMUT, possessive/jealous Rafe, protected car sex 🫠

Summary: your best friend Rafe steps in when a random guy tries to hit on you at a party

Rafe watched from across the room as the unworthy touron tried to make a move on you. He was trying so hard to be unaffected, however when he saw the look of discomfort on your face he lost all the restraint he had. He quickly made his way through a sea of people to get to you. You didn’t even notice Rafe until he put himself in between you and this guy.

“Get lost bud.” Rafe spits out.

“Excuse me? What’s your deal man?”

“The problem is that you’re flirting with my fucking girlfriend.” Your eyes went wide with the lie.

“Rafe.” You tried to protest and cut in but he gently pushed you back behind him.

“Woah woah man. Your girlfriend was the one acting like a slut and flirting with me.”

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth.” Rafe warned as he got right up in his face.

“Cut it out Rafe, just take me home okay.” You forced him to look at you and as soon as he saw how upset you were, he snapped out of his rage. He quickly grabbed your hand and led you outside to his truck.

The first part of your ride was silent as you stared out the window. Rafe looked over at you several times, pondering what to say. The last thing he wanted was to make you upset but his pent up feelings for you were slowly starting to bleed over your friendship.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay. That guy was an asshole.”

“And you don’t think I could handle it myself? I was doing just fine before you made a huge scene in front of everyone.” You spat.

“I could tell you were uncomfortable Y/N, I was just trying to help.”

“Yeah, well you’re not my fucking dad. I don’t know why you’ve been acting like this lately.” He growled at your words and immediately pulled his truck over onto the side of the road.

“Because you’ve been out here acting like you’re desperate for attention and I don’t want you to get hurt.” He nearly screamed at you from his place in the driver’s seat.

“You’re a douche!.” You shout at him as you attempt to exit his truck. He quickly grabs you by your arm, forcing your attention back to him. “Rafe-” You're cut off by his lips being roughly pressed to yours. You pull back quickly, completely taken by surprise. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Come on Y/N, do I really have to spell it out for you?” You sat there dumbfounded and silent for what seemed like forever. You looked at Rafe and then down at yourself. You never really saw yourself as someone he would want in that way.

“You could have any girl you wanted, Rafe, why would you bother with someone like me?”

“I don’t want any girl Y/N, I want you. Since we were kids.” You whip your head in his direction as the words leave his mouth, in utter disbelief.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I don’t know. I should have. I thought I could keep it in but seeing that guy throwing himself at you set me off. I’m sorry.” He answers as he reaches for your hand.

You’re so overcome with emotion that you don’t stop to think before you’re climbing over the center console and straddling his lap, crashing your lips into his. He tries to speak but you kiss him and lean into him harder. His hand slides down the seat to push the seat back, giving you both more room to move.

You run your hands through his hair as his hand slips underneath the back of your shirt. Every little touch has your body wanting to erupt like fireworks. You never realized that you wanted him this bad, in this way. He moans into your mouth when you slip your tongue past his lips and it sets you off. Your hands go straight for his belt but he’s quick to pull away and stop you.

“Rafe.” You plead.

“Not here. Not like this.” He says softly but you aren’t having it. You roll your hips over him and the noise that falls from his lips only fuels you further.

“I thought you’ve wanted me your whole life? Are you really gonna tell me no right now?” You tease as you keep up your seductive movements. A low groan leaves his lips before he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you back into him as your lips fuse together again.

Your hands go back to his belt but this time he doesn’t stop you as you work to free him from his pants. You push your dripping panties to the side before helping him align himself with your entrance. He slips into you with ease and you both let out relieved whines of pleasure.

“Jesus Y/N!.” He growls as he fills you completely.

“You’re massive.” You breathlessly moan and he smirks before placing his hands on your hips to help you steady yourself. You lean down, taking his bottom lip in between your teeth biting gently as he starts pulling you down on him hard. You feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he perfectly caresses the inside of you.

You completely forget that you’re on the side of the road where anyone could see you. All you can think about is the fact that you’re fucking your best friend and how amazing he feels as you ride him. Your hand trails down your skirt to rub your clit and it’s mere seconds before your orgasm washes over you.

“So fucking beautiful.” Rafe growls as he keeps fucking up into you. He places tender kisses on the side of your neck as you come down. You can tell he’s trying hard not to dig his fingernails into your skin as he grows closer. “Shit, can I-“ he rasps but you cut him off.

“Yes, I’m on the pill.” You work to meet his thrusts, tugging at his hair as you feel him twitch. He releases inside of you with a groan and falls back against the seat, completely out of breath.

“Shit, I think I love you.” He pants and you smile.

“You think?” You tease as you lean in for a gentle kiss.

“Okay maybe I know.” He chuckles as you both work to right yourselves. As you make your way back over to the passenger seat you can feel his cum dripping down your leg and you smirk to yourself.

“Maybe I know too.” You whisper but you’re pretty sure he catches it as he smiles while pulling back onto the road.

[redr0sewrites]

❤️‍🩹A/n: i love him. again, more shameless, filthy filthy smut. he must suffer the wrath of my period hormones.

❤️‍🩹Cw: smut, sub!inexperienced!shigaraki, fem!dom!reader, fluff, riding, overstim, praise, humiliation kink, very mild voyeurism

pretty.

all Shigaraki could think about as you bounced up and down on his cock was just how pretty you look. your cheeks were flushed and your pupils blown out like a dog in heat, and yet somehow you still held control over him like he was some precious mutt you'd managed to tame- and fuck did he enjoy it. and by the looks of it, so did you.

"you having fun down there pretty boy? wonder what the others would think, seeing their mighty leader mewling like a bitch in heat over getting to fuck a real pussy for the first time," theres a teasing lilt to your voice that makes him shiver, yet he presses into the hand that cups his face regardless. he nods, and you coo, babying him like he's some sort of exotic pet. his cock twitches at the thought- he'll unpack that later.

"aw, you enjoying yourself? bet the real thing's ssso much better than some cheap replica, hm? were you that desperate to fuck me, tomura?" you nod your head in the direction of the sex toy, long since discarded in favor of you riding him.

his head is far too fuzzy to reply, so he settles for nodding desperately, too lost in the pleasure to even form a cohesive sentence.

"answer me, Tomura."

your voice rings out commanding and cold as the hand that had been cupping his face so gently grips his hair harshly, wrenching his head back to expose his neck.

"or do you want me to stop?"

"mmngh,, no! nno ma'am," he slurs, whimpering as you press sloppy kisses to his now exposed neck.

"aw, good boy Tomura. and you- ffuck, used your manners too! guess that calls for a reward, don't you think?"

you nibble at the junction of his collarbone, testing to see how much he reacts before biting down hard. Shigaraki lets out an uncharacteristic whimper, tugging at the restraints holding his hands to the bedposts above him. he made it clear that this was a definite condition of sleeping with him- he wanted there to be absolutely no chance that he could accidentally hurt you with his quirk, especially since he's so inexperienced. it was both sad, and a little cute, how much he cared about your safety when he was the one being fucked absolutely senseless!

a sharp role of his hips causes a stuttered whine to slip past your lips, quickly swallowed by Shigaraki in a deep kiss. teeth and tongue clash together as you finally kiss him on the lips, and he strains to meet you halfway.

"please," he gasps into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to brush away the pale hair sticking to his forehead from sweat so that you can see his eyes. "please, i've been so good.." he trails off , looking up at you pleadingly.

you smile before pulling him in to another kiss, while your hands slam down on his chest, forcing him into the mattress. Tomura mewls beneath you, tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as you ride him with newfound fury. you fondle his chest as you kiss him dizzy, one hand pinches a nipple between two fingers while the other trails down to feel each twitch of his stomach as you ride him.

"you have been good, baby. i said i would reward you, didn't i? you wanna cum, don't you?" if Tomura had a tail, you were quite sure it would be wagging right now. he stares up at you with glazed, lust filled eyes and nods fervently. Shigaraki's back arches as you begin to pick up your pace, and he's nearly drooling as he watches your chest bounce witn each roll of your hips. his thighs shudder as you rise up until your nearly hovering over him, before slamming back down onto his cock. his mushroom tip reaches your g spot with ease, and you can feel your own orgasm building up as well.

"you close, honey?" you rasp, cupping his face and slowing down so that you can savor each roll of your hips. you practically have each ridge and vein of his cock memorized, and he twitches inside you as his tip ever so lightly nudges your cervix.

"mngh- mhm!" he responds eagerly, throwing his head back into the soft pillows and once again giving you access to his neck. you happily oblige, sucking a few more dark marks into his skin. your teeth against his flesh makes him tremble, and he lets out a sharp gasp as his orgasm approaches without warning.

"o-oh ffuck, gonna!" Shigaraki moans, and his cock twitches once, twice, three times inside you. "gonna cum pretty boy? c'mon, doing so good f'me," you whisper in his ear before pressing a wet kiss to his neck. yojr praise sends him tumbling over the edge, and Tomura lets out a string of fumbling curses before cumming inside. for a few seconds he continues rolling his hips, fucking his release deeper inside of you, and its the feeling of him filling you up that makes the coil in your stomach snap. you gush around him, clenching and moaning wantonly as your orgasm washes over you.

you continue rutting against him for a few more seconds, prolonging your high before collapsing against his chest in a heap of sweat and exhaustion. Shigaraki whines beneath you as he pulls out, and you roll to the side before removing his restraints. he rubs his sore wrists, and you take the opportunity to nuzzle in close, burying your head into his neck.

"that was... really nice," you mumble, and he hums in response, embarrassment preventing him from replying.

"maybe.. we could do it again sometime?" you ask, and Shigaraki pulls away to look at you. for a split second, he looks almost... hopeful, before his usual facade returns.

"if that's what you want," he grumbles, but returns to holding you regardless.

"definitely." you reply, before slotting yourself against is bare body.

"do you mind if i stay the night, Tomura?"

"..no, i guess not."

CRYING SCREAMING I NEED HIM SO BAD HES SOOOOO. second to touya he's the loml fr 😭😭😭