#we aren't free until we're all free

[princeoftrashy]

The death toll of Palestinians has passed 14,000— not including those who are still missing. How many more people have to die before our government calls for a ceasefire? They may look away, but the blood is on their hands. And it has been. From children getting shot on the street to children being massacred at schools to children being thrown into cages on US soil, it is clear that these people have no humanity, empathy, or morality.

It feels like we're living in a time where all we can do is watch as these atrocities are committed, but that isn't true. Scream and don't stop screaming. And don't stop at calling your representatives, scream at them on the street too. I don't care if they're at a restaurant or enjoying time with their families, these politicians don't deserve a moment of peace while they happily advocate for the death of children and babies both abroad and at home.

[11-21-2023 Update]

[funkylittlebats]

Adding this, because I see so few people talking about the ongoing Armenian genocide: post from 7 days ago with several sources to read through, Armenian Food Bank, Armenian Relief Society, Society for Orphaned Armenian Relief

People & countries mentioned in the thread:

Congo - M23, Cobalt

Darfur, Sudan - International Criminal Court, CNN, BBC (Overview)

Tigray - Human Rights Watch (Ethnic Cleansing Report)

the Sámi people - IWGIA, Euronews

Hawai'i - IWGIA

Syria - Amnesty International

Kashmir- Amnesty Summary (PDF), Wikipedia (Jammu and Kashmir), Human Rights Watch (2022)

Iran - Human Rights Watch, Morality Police (Mahsa/Jina Amini - Al Jazeera, Wikipedia)

Uyghurs - Uyghur Human Rights Project (UHRP) Q&A, Wikipedia, Al Jazeera

Tibetans - SaveTibet.org

Yazidi people - Wikipedia, United Nations

West Papua - Free West Papua, Genocide Watch

Yemen - Human Rights Watch (Saudi border guards kill migrants), Carrd

Sri Lanka (Tamils) - Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch

Afghans in Pakistan - Al Jazeera, NPR

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[colorisbyshe]

I just came across a tweet saying that Aaron Bushnell--the man who burned himself to death while yelling Free Palestine until he couldn't anymore--will be "in the history books" and that phrase has been coming up a lot. And it chafes me every time I read it, every time I hear it.

Cause, a. no, a lot of this won't be in the American history books. American atrocities, especially those overseas but even those against American people (especially American people of color), don't go in the literal history books. Or the figurative ones. Most American atrocities are wiped from the collective memory... sometimes as soon as they happen. They go unreported (like the first person to self immolate to protest this genocide), they go erased, they go whitewashed, they go falsely recontextualized, and they get twisted into pro-America sentiment--we were right for those atrocities, we were wrong for them but we learned, we didn't learn from it but we felt bad about it and should be comforted for that soreness.

And b. is harder to verbalize but I'm gonna try. It feels... performative in the literal sense. Like we only value what is happening today out of deference for how people in the future will perceive it. We aren't doing anything to change anything NOW, to care about other people NOW, but so that one day... we'll be remembered a caring. Like this man killed himself as gesture, as a move for his legacy.

And I see this phrase--"this will be remembered in the history books"--whipped out in extremely horrific contexts. A child's dead body hanging off a wall, "oh, this will be in the history books." What does that even mean? Was her death worth the historical context? Was it necessary to embellish the horror of it all?

Would the people reading these hypothetical history books not get the wrongness of the genocide without the death of a little girl that you're using as... window dressing?

It just seems so weirdly self satisfied. Like you're eager to note you just witnessed a real moment that people will remember decades from now. When... a lot of people won't which is what is so tragic. A lot of people don't even know it's happening right now.

Because, again, it's not being reported. And when it is being reported it's not being reported honestly.

I'm not saying this well but it just feels like such a gross reaction to things we're seeing in real time.

Why does it have to matter later to matter now? Why is the hypothetical reaction of a history book reader the thing you think about?

A lot of people won't live to read those "history books" because people, right now, aren't doing anything to help them.

[songbirdseung]

pinky ring / sim jaeyun

synopsis: jake made you a promise to marry you when you two were toddlers. he would fake propose until he really did get down on one knee.

pairing: childhood besties jake x reader

wc: 1.1k

To your parents, it was all good fun. Seeing their child being proposed to by their childhood best friend at their favorite beach. Documentation was highly important to them, filming little you and little jake holding a candy ring pop in his hand, asking your hand in marriage. To them, it was adorable.

For young child you, you were petrified. At the time, your dad just gave a small talk on how to stay away from boys and you're definitely too young to get into a relationship. This happened when you called the actor on scene handsome when you were having a family movie night.

"We are too young Jake" pouting your lips, feeling bad for rejecting his proposal. Jake shrugs and hands you the ring pop anyway. "Fine, I'll just wait and get you a real ring".

That didn't last long because fast forward to the next year, he does it again. He has done it so much that for the next few following years, it had become an inside joke to everyone in your immediate family.

"You have rejected me for 4 years now" crossing his arms in a fit, Jake looks at you disappointed. "Maybe because we are only 12 years old?"

At this point, you aren't sure if he's doing this because he really wants to marry you or just to tease you and lead any guy interested in you far far away. Remembering all the instances where a boy would approach you during lunch and sit next to you and confess and say that they think you' re cute. There then comes Jake, wearing a smug smirk and says something along the lines of "I'm actually her future husband, please go away".

It makes you think about how you could never get away from Jake and his antics.

Even when you guys reached your teenage years, almost reaching adulthood, Jake never dropped the fake proposal joke. Like on your 19th birthday, at the restaurant he took you both to, he claims how he's your boyfriend and he's planning to propose soon, the waiter thought he was weird for saying that he wanted to propose soon with you sitting right there but nonetheless, he gave you both free desserts.

You thought at by the age of 14, he'd stop since you both are going through puberty, his feelings would change and he'd drop it due to his own pride and embarrassment, but no.

Now you both were 20, if you had to count how many fake proposals Jake has done over the years, it would reach 100.

"You can't say that we are too young, we're both legal adults and we basically known each other our whole lives." You turn over to him and flick his forehead, causing him wince in pain and shoo you away from him. "You're mean"

"You're the one that wants to marry me, so get used to it"

"Oh, so you're playing along now" He removes his hand from his head and pokes your side. "After years, you're finally warming up to the idea"

"Keep that up, I won't be anymore" Once you said that you realize how you didn't even deny it. Looking back at Jake who went back to playing video games, you take in his appearance and guide your eyes to follow the lines that make his side profile.

Jake was good looking, you knew that. He's always been the apple of your eye since you two were kids, then as you got to know him, his humor, personality, and behavior kind of sealed the deal for you.

"If you keep staring at me, I might disintegrate."

"Then, who is going to marry me?"

"We're still on that? I thought you didn't want to?"

"Make me your girlfriend and I'll rethink it" Now it was your turn to cause a ruckus in Jake's mind. He pauses the game and looks over to you, reading your expression wondering if you were serious or not.

That night, Jake stayed over. Unlike the other past sleepovers that you two had, this one was different because the way you cuddle into him now, it felt different. He was always yours and until now, just a different kind. He was now your boyfriend, not boy-friend.

With your dynamic and bond with Jake, it felt like sunshine and rainbows most of the times, being around each other all the time and knowing each other too well, you always found ways to fix things or any miscommunication that would come along.

Transitioning to relationship from friendship was surprisingly easy from the outside perspective but the thing with you and Jake was he was always a gentleman and treated you right and how you deserved to be treated, and of course vice versa.

When you told your mom the news, she did not show any surprised reaction, simply telling you how she saw it coming and was just waiting for this moment to happen, you dad shared a similar reaction, happy that it was Jake to be the one you were dating.

Fast forward to a whole year of dating Jake. People would say that you two were like a fairytale love, match made in heaven, meant for each other, all that. "Hey yn, maybe you should do that trend where you call Jake your husband"

"I'm pretty sure he's already seen that on tiktok, no?"

Still, even if he did, you were going to do it just to see his reaction. That same day, you two meet up after your last class ended. Waiting for you somewhere in the university's campus, you run up to him and give him a hug. "Someone missed me?"

In the car ride home, you guys both agreed to stop by your favorite restaurant and get some take out. Which was a perfect time to put your little prank in action. Just like everyone else, after placing your order, you ask Jake what he wants and tell the waiter. "Then my husband would like ___"

Once the waiter leaves, you finally take notice of Jake who is wide eyed, staring at you in awe. "There's no way you just called me that" To say he was a lovesick puppy after that was an understatement.

But now since you called him that, you have to keep calling him that. Because if you call him or introduce him as your boyfriend, he'll act surprised and startled. "Are you asking for a divorce?" "Do you not love me anymore?" "I thought I was your husband?" to name a few.

"I'm gonna have to propose now, for real this time"

[bynux]

"don't vote for Harris or you're supporting genocide" "voting blue is still voting for fascists" Then what else do you expect us to do?

Here are some options y'all seem to insist on and why they're fucking stupid:

Vote Third Party :: Until we have ranked-choice voting (and probably even if we did have ranked-choice voting), it is practically impossible to make a 3rd-party candidate viable. There's not enough of the population that's far enough from moderate to give up their "safe" blue vote for some "revolutionary."

Don't Vote At All :: I'd prefer to pick my enemy. If I'm going to be working in spite of the government, or even against it in some ways, I'd rather the people I'm working against not already be targeting me for being queer, for example. If my options are "bad" or "much, much worse" I'm gonna pick "bad" and try to improve things from there.

Violent Revolution :: It's a cosplay power fantasy in the same vein as the Right-wingers looking for a reason to shoot protesters. Assuming you even have enough people organized and enough firepower to pull that off in the first place…have you prepared a plan to keep the innocents alive and safe? Are you sure you can keep supply chains for food and medicines intact? Are you sure there will be resources available for the disabled, the scared, the young and old, those who won't be able to fight and still need to be taken care of? Turns out revolution is ugly and causes a lot of undue collateral damage. Are the lives "saved" really going to outweigh those whose lives will be upended and destroyed? It's not like a newly-toppled, unorganized country will be able to do anything about Israel/Gaza, so you're just hurting and killing far more people than you're saving.

As for the power you do have to better things (and make Leftism more viable as a political stance in the US)?

Work at the level of your local government. If you're in a small enough town or neighborhood and think you have what it takes, run for local office. Be a local face of the left wing; you're far more likely to sway a small town to your views than the whole country, and each small town with a socialist-leaning government is a dot on the map for larger-scale viability, and you can help keep your community safe while trying to build up in scale.

Build community so we can keep each other safe if worse does come to worst. Push mutual aid initiatives, help at food banks, grow produce to donate to those in need, apply to work at your local free clinic, empower local businesses whenever possible so that if there is a socioeconomic collapse, you and those you love aren't left completely without resources.

Protest, and make it disruptive. You can be disruptive without being violent: graffiti, blocking roads, encampments, sit-ins, to name a few examples. Create inconveniences so it gets people's attention whether they like it or not.

Above all, FUCKING VOTE BLUE. You're choosing your enemy. You get to help decide if the government we're working in spite of is run by milquetoast neoliberal war hawks who do, on some rare occasions, actually make things marginally better…or full-tilt Christo-fascists who want to kill some of us for kissing people with the same genitals as us. There aren't any other options that are going to be picked. It sucks, but at the bare minimum we can pick the option that isn't going to actively murder us while we try to build up viability for a candidate who won't sell out brown people to an ethnostate.

If you aren't doing at least one of the things above, then don't lecture me about how I keep myself and my community safe. I'd love to see a United States (or some future iteration of it) that acknowledges the sovereign rights of indigenous peoples, that doesn't fund genocide, that provides healthcare as a basic human right, that doesn't meddle in every other country's business. But if we are to see that, let alone help that happen, we need to survive this next presidential administration.

Edit: y'all have lost reblog privileges. If you wanna screenshot this and have stupid unnuanced opinions OFF of my post, be my guest. Just leave me tf alone.

[gamora-borealis]

here's the thing. to outsiders it may seem like we're excited because "phan is real!!" or whatever. but they don't know... it's not about that. phan has been real this entire time. there's always been evidence that dan and phil were together, more or less (more evidence than I think some people realize). the reason phan™ is such a big deal is because two silly gay boys met online in 2009, but their fame quickly outgrew their comfort zone and they quickly went back in the closet. dan was so traumatized from being bullied in school that he had a public meltdown on tumblr in 2012 insisting he was straight after some very private stuff leaked (that he insisted was a unused prank). after going to therapy and meeting so many queer fans on tour, dan slowly began to hint again that he was queer. but it still took them until 2019 to officially come out! and like. dan essentially confirmed that yes all the public online flirting back in 2009/2010 between him and phil was very real and that they were "more than just romantic" at that point and were currently "real best friends, life companions, and soulmates." but that was it, they weren't going to share any more. which is perfectly fine, but some of that definitely had to do with dan wanting to explore himself outside of the Dan and Phil™ brand (which unfortunately he got fucked over by the pandemic and by YouTube in the process). however they did eventually make a very cute announcement that they had bought and designed a new house together. and bit by bit they started making some more coupley jokes about each other here and there and sharing glimpses of a bedroom with both of their stuff in it, though it was still fairly subdued. but then dan finally got to go do his solo comedy tour and when he came back, shit suddenly CHANGED. 2023 was wild. they brought back their joint gaming channel they hadn't touched in five years since just before they came out. and they basically started the public flirting again??? this time on camera??? maybe not as direct as the 2009 stuff at first but. it's definitely been building up close to it. and then Dan finally releases his comedy special for free on YouTube. Phil writes a gushy tweet about it. and dan just replies with 🧡. ...except for within a larger birthday tweet in 2023, dan had not used a heart emoji for phil since like... 2010??? and then suddenly he screenshots this interaction and POSTS IT ON HIS YOUTUBE COMMUNITY TAB with the caption "gay" and a link to his special. like. this isn't about confirmation... the people who have been saying that they probably aren't together or that you shouldn't think or wonder if they are were like, the twitter morality police, ex-phannies, and generally clueless people. tumblr phannies clearly have known that they've been gay for each other for the past 15 years. but this whole "gay 🧡" incident is the first time Dan Howell has very publicly said something like this about his relationship while being "unapologetically gay" as a very public figure (there's been some magazine interviews that technically have come close but, nothing as direct as this). like that is so fucking huge??? that he and phil are finally comfortable enough online, on YouTube, and in life, to go there!!! as we are now approaching fifteen years of them together too!!! like, it's so nice to get to celebrate such a happy queer relationship and expression of queer joy. and dan has hinted that bigger stuff is coming too... like. yeah phan is real I guess 🙃

[fratboykate]

I'm totally in support of the writers in theory but I'm trying to understand more of what you're fighting for because I've seen some people on twitter claim writers make more money a week than most of us make in a month so I'm trying to understand what the issue is. Also if that info is accurate. This is a genuine question. Not trying to have a "gotcha moment". I really want to hear from a writer.

people have always had wild misconceptions about how much a writer earns because of their lack of understanding of how the industry actually works. there's so many posts about how "you guys make 5k a week. what more do you want?!" yeah...let's do some math on that.

5k a week for 14 weeks (and that's a long room. a lot of rooms these days are 8-10 weeks. those are the dreaded mini-rooms we're trying to kill) is $70,000. for roughly three months of work. you'd think we're cooking with gas...BUT HOLD UP. that's gross! let's see everything that has to come out of that check:

10% to our agent

10% to our manager

5% to our entertainment attorney

5% to our business manager (not everyone has one but a lot of us do. i do, so that's literally 30% immediately off the top of every check)

most of these breakdowns ive seen downplay taxes severely. someone made one that says writers pay 5% in taxes and i would like to ask them "in what universe?". that doesn't even cover state taxes. the way taxes work in the industry is really complicated, but the short of it is most of us have companies for tax reasons so we aren't taxed like people on w2s/1099. if we did we'd be even more fucked. basically every production hires a writer's company instead of the writer as an individual. so they engage our companies for our services and then at the end of the year we (the company) pay taxes as corporations or llcs (depending on what the writer chose to go with). my company is registered as a "corporation" so let's go with those rates. california's corporate rate is 9% and the federal corporate tax rate is 21%. there's other expenses with running a business like fees and other shit so my business managers/accountants/bookkeepers have recommended i save between 35-40% of everything i make for when tax season comes.

you see where the math is at already??? 25-30% in commissions and then 35-40% in taxes. on the lower end you're at THE VERY LEAST looking at 60% of that check gone. 70% worst case scenario. suddenly those $70,000 people claim we make are actually down to $28,000 as the take home pay. and that's if you're only losing 60%. it goes down to $21,000 if it's 70%.

lets pretend you worked a long 14 week room (that's the longest room ive ever worked btw) and let's also be generous and say you only have 60% in expenses so the take home is $28,000. average rent in los angeles is around $2,800-$3,000. if you're paying $2,800 in rent that means you need AT LEAST $4,000 a month to have a semi decent life since you need to also cover groceries, gas, medical expenses, toiletries, phone, internet, utilities, rental and car insurances, car payments, student loan payments, etc etc etc. and again, this is los angeles. everything is more expensive so you're living BARE BONES on 4k. and these are numbers as a single person. im not even taking having children into account. so those $28,000 you take home might cover your life for 6-7 months. 3 of which you're in the room working. the reality is that once that room ends, you might not work in a room again for 6-9-12 months (i have friends whose last jobs were over 18 months ago) and you now only have about 3 months left of savings to hold you over. we have to make that money stretch while we do all the endless free development we do for studios and until we get our next paying job. so...3 months left of enough money to cover your expenses -> possible 9 months of not having a job. this is how writers end up on food stamps or applying to work at target.

this is why we're fighting for better rates and better residuals. residuals were a thing writers used to rely on to get them through the unemployment periods. residual checks have gone down from 20k to $0.03 cents. im not joking.

they've decimated our regular pay and then destroyed residuals. we have nothing left. so don't believe it when they tell you writers are being greedy. writers are simply fighting to be able to make a middle class living. we're not asking them to become poor for our sake. we're asking for raises that amount to 2% of their profit. TWO PERCENT. this is a fight for writing even being a career in five years instead of something you do on the side while you work retail to pay your bills. if you think shows are bad now imagine when your writer has to do it as a hobby because they need a real job to pay their bills and support a family. (which none of us can currently afford to have btw)

support writers. stop being bootlickers for billion dollar corporations. stop caring about fictional people more than you care about the real people that write them. if we don't win this fight it truly is game over. the industry as you know it is gone.

[queermania]

i am angry. and i'm upset and hurt and disappointed and reeling etc. and i have my own personal feelings about what people have or have not been advocating for over the last few months leading up to this but i'm not sure any of it matters right now and i'm not sure why everyone is so ready to turn on each other. it seems pretty obvious right now that the problem wasn't third party voters or even people who abstained. it wasn't harris's stance on palestine/israel (in either direction). it wasn't the cheney endorsement. it wasn't anything related to her policies one way or another or anything we've all been arguing about for months now. none of it even fucking mattered, based on the numbers.

it's not a secret that this country hates women and loves white supremacy. i'm not going to make it easier for them to get rid of me, or you. i refuse to hold a knife to the throats of the people who are ultimately on my side, just because we might disagree about how to accomplish something. i am going to link arms with you and we're going to move forward together. we're going to do our daily clicks for palestine. we're going to donate e-sims and to pcrf. we're going to donate to ukraine. and abortion funds. we're going to continue helping with the border crisis. and trying to unfuck the climate. and whatever else we need to. we're going to get organized and we're not going to wait until the next election cycle to do it. we are also going to make sure we sign up for healthcare and take care of ourselves.

there are a billion things we need to do (and feel free to add links and resources to this post if you want to pass them on) but i'm simply not going to waste my energy fighting with people who aren't trying to kill me when so many others want me dead.

[shuenkio]

That basketball player | Lhs.

Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: SMUT

Synopsis: Since when did heeseung get that big glow up? Back in the junior year he was just a guy with his bang covering his forehead but now? You can't help but to stare at him every time he is playing basketball, jingling.

Cw: masturbate in the bathroom, bigger cock Heeseung, drunk, public explicit scenes, cursing, no plot Ig, alone time, mentioned of cum, stained etc. [18+] mdni

Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.

This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio

A#N: Yo what! I feel pity to leave y'all alone with my no update so here a smut hardcore, before I vanish once again. (Yes this is me, a bit freaky than usual ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ

Being friends with a sports guy like Heeseung is not an easy job, nor is it for your mental, freaky mind. Every time you were there, watching him practice for the competition. You can't find but to stare at a little distracted place, like a weirdo. However, it's not one fault side; since Heeseung does have his own package ever since then, it'd be a jingle bell at every instance.

Not to mention, back in the junior year, Heeseung is just a guy who just hit puberty, freshly adult, bang cover all his forehead like a nerd. In the meantime, all that matters transformed into this: a hot guy with a huge beard that could squeeze a lemon, a slender yet masculine frame from head to toes, and the most glow-up part was probably his middle part.

Which you can't help but to wonder while nosebleed; imagine how'd it look like to be sight. And so on, wondering turns into reality when it's happening during the party of one of your classmates. Walking in the bathroom, as you thought nobody was there with no light on, until when the lights flickered, you were stunned, your hearts just doing a back flip once you saw the tipsy Heeseung who's jerking off on the toilet.

Omfg, is this for real? Think to yourself. Can't hide the red blush that was painted on your face, you immediately apologize and leave; however, before you could, a large hand appeared and pinged you against the door, allowing you to escape this awkward situation.

"Hmm... M/n? What a surprise to see you here during my alone time," said the half-drunk guy, looking down to see his cock peeking through his zipper, naked. In front of you, but did he care? No. You swallow down, feel like a stone stuck in your breath—this is just a dream wake-up.

Your reaction was funny enough to make Heeseung chuckle out; you seem to be nervous, shy, and lately a bit of a turn-on.

"We're alone, aren't we? Now don't hide your true colors, bud; I know you've always wanted this, isn't that right?" Heeseung claim, pointed out right through you. No way he caught you in act, but where? Yet there's no use right now to wonder about it; a big gigantic cock is staring at you right now; he was so hard his cum is leaking out, desperate for some way out of those balls.

Out of surprise, you snapped as Heeseung let out a moan, in contact with his skin too close to yours. Cover your face with your palm to evade your crazy mess face; his pre-cum began to stain on your pants!

"Fuck m/n, take a hold of it. Before I change my mind, I'm not sober," panicking Sprint free in your vein as you shudder to his words, Should you or shouldn't? This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is so rare, you wouldn't want to go to waste.

Seeing you froze in the spot, back pressed against the door too much, Heeseung snatched one of your hands and wrapped them around his shaft. Lord, have mercy.

"Ahh, so good, m/n, euuu, that's right," biting his lip, his back arching forward, thrusting inside of your palm in rhythm. Both of his hands are pinning you in between, while he endures in pleasure. No word to say; you seem to enjoy what you're doing. His foreskin moved up and down, his tip peeking in every stroke.

Heeseung's freaky side was not what you expected; he was far more wild. Your surroundings are no longer your priority; you didn't care if anyone might hear. Continue to please the man of your dreams; no, this is a dream to be able to touch him, your friend.

A few more strokes, his hip bucking more and more needy, his balls later slipped out of his underwear, come out before slapping against the friction of his own pant. As a result, the fire in him turned on even better. Both of you can't think straight, locked in this bathroom, just the two, enjoying times together.

"Cum... I need to cum m/n!! I'm going to piss Ahh Ahh FUCK." He's knees weaken. The hands that are pinning you in find their way to belt around your waist, despairing for support, before a load of hot cum splashes out on both clothes. Heeseung is indeed sensitive; that might as well be one of his weaknesses for your dictionary.

He then falls down on the floor on his knees finally, as he leans against the wall nearby in this tight space. Draining out and overwhelmed by the masturbation. Little did you know, there's also a stain in your pants too, not only from Heeseung's cum stained. Ugh, he got you in anyway possible.

"Shit..." A couple of minutes passed, his brows furrowing while his eyes shut, before he pissed out for real.

"I—damn it." 

[heartfullofleeches]

[Angst]

Childhood Best Friends with a small age gap- two or three years, nothing crazy- but it means everything as they age.

It was hard for them to make friends their age when you first met. They liked things that were too "childish" for their peers - things another child who lived not to far away adored. They'd seen each other on the way to school, but they didn't interact frequently due to their difference in grade.

Until that day-

"Whoa...Cool backpack. You like that show too?"

"Thanks... I'm thinking of getting a new one though... Do you want me to ask my parents if you can have it?"

"What?! It looks fine to me... Why are you getting rid of it?"

"My friends called me a baby... I won't be able to go back to class without everyone laughing at me unless I get a better one."

"That's silly!.... It's on right now... Wanna watch it with me?"

The two were inseparable from then on- School hindered the time they had to see each other each morning, but as soon as it let out - both ran to meet with their new best friend. The elder of the pair was often mocked and teased for their choice, but they could hardly care anymore. They had someone who'd stick by their side to the very end - childish fixations and all.

Years went on and they made new friends. It happens. More obstacles began piling up throughout - chipping away at the few hours they scarcely had to begin with. Studying, Hobbies, balancing days between hanging out with other friend groups and the person who once meant the world. They tried to make things works, but nothing went to plan-

"Is it alright if Y/n comes with us tonight?"

"Y/N? Aren't they're too young to see this movie? We shouldn't be responsible if they have night terrors or something.."

"They aren't that young... Are they?"

They never thought about it before. You were so close in age as kids it never hit them that as you grew that little gap drew a bridge between you - and it was easier to let you go than finding an alternative.

"Hey, Dude! Are we still on for this weekend? I can't believe they're making a reboot after all this time!.."

"Are my messages going through? You haven't responded in a while... I saw you outside school yesterday and yelled your name, but....."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Hey."

"You're hanging out with them today? Did you forget about my birthday?...."

"You removed me off your list of friends...We're still friends, right?"

"Let me alone. I'm sick of being your babysitter. Go find friends your own age and stay away from mine."

And that was the end of things.

College cames around and their live became relatively tame. Their thoughts drifted to that childhood friend of theirs every now and again, but between school and partying with the new friends they had made - those memories faded to the back of their mind.

An acquaintance asks them to help show some new faces around the campus. One sticks out to them amongst the crowd. It's you. What do they say to you after all these years? You don't look sad to see them. Nor angry. Intact - you look..

Relieved.

Pulling them aside at the end of the tour, you free yourself from the burden that's weighted down on you since they left you.

"I'm sorry."

"It was never my intention to hold you back. Overtime I realized I was just that annoying kid who clung onto you because I thought you were my first and only friend...When you never felt that way about me. I'm sorry for taking that away from you. If our paths cross again, I promise I won't even look at you."

After being abandoned by your best friend- the person you looked up to most, you matured well beyond your years in hopes that would make you like them again. Overtime, you gave up that goal, but others could see how you've changed.

"Isn't that.... Y/n?.."

"Oh, man- It is! You guys were glued at the hip before we became teens."

"They're..kinda cute... Do you still have their number?"

All this time apart, a feeling long forgotten resurged inside them. The need to protect you. You didn't know these people like they did. You shouldn't be going to parties with them, getting to know and befriend them. They'll only hurt you - worse than they had. They never should have said goodbye to you- They should have allowed the feelings they were so scared to have, but had always been there develop and blossom naturally until you both were adults ready to move on to that stage in your friendship.

They know you best. No matter how much you grow as a person, you're still the same.

"That's a cute Keychain, Y/n!"

"Thanks! I've loved this show since I was a kid!"

They'll prove it to you.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (IV)

Happy Holidays! Remember your plans to visit friends and family back in your home country? Scratch that. The Yakuza men have other ideas for you in this cozy Christmas special. And you finally get to meet their fearsome Boss, who has a request for you.

Content: female reader, fluff

[Part 3] | [Part 5] | [Yakuza Masterlist]

You stare at your phone in disbelief, rereading each line and hoping you've misunderstood the kanji. Daitou and Kazuya are quietly frowning behind you, unsure how to help in such a situation. Their lack of response only confirms it.

The brief paragraph is written in bold, red font: Due to weather conditions, all flights are cancelled until further notice. Passengers have been refunded and will need to repurchase their tickets at first convenience.

One glimpse at the last-minute prices and you're certain of it: you won't be going home for Christmas. You slouch and sigh, somewhat at peace with the idea. What else can you do? You might as well get yourself a KFC bucket and stare at the holiday lights in the city center. You and the couples taking cheesy Christmas selfies, who will later wonder about the gloomy loner behind them philosophically crunching on spicy wings.

"Don't look so defeated, (Y/N). You can just spend that time with us instead. We're not such terrible company, are we?" Kazuya jokes, trying to cheer you up.

"We could even go on a trip around New Year."

Your eyes light up in anticipation, the sadness vanishing almost instantly. 

"Can we go to one of those hot spring inns? I've always wanted to visit an onsen." You put your hands together pleadingly. 

"Whoa! Take me out to dinner first if you're that eager to see me naked." The blonde man winks at you smugly. 

"How would I see you naked? The baths are separated, aren't they?" You inquire. 

"We can't go to the regular ones." Daitou pulls his collar slightly downwards, revealing a fragment of his traditional tattoos. True. A yakuza would never be allowed among the civilians. "We'd have to book a private bath, so there wouldn't be anyone else."

You blush at the prospect of being alone with the two men. Kazuya notices your nervousness and is about to continue his teasing, but Daitou speaks before him, unbothered and oblivious:

"Besides, you've already seen me naked. I can tell you Kazuya doesn't look much different. There's nothing to be shy about."

The blonde man can only gawk, taken aback, and you shove Daitou in a flustered panic, fumbling to find an excuse or a change of subject.

He didn't have to make your business public like that, or he could've at least announced it without you being present. Judging by the blonde's speechless reaction, you're guessing he hasn't been told about your sneaky office smooching that led to the occasional sleepover. If you think about it, there's nothing shameful about being intimate with your boyfriend, but...It's not something you're fully accustomed to yet.

As promised, after the coworker incident you were soon greeted with a job offer in the neighborhood. When you went to your old office to discuss the mandatory year contract, the managers nervously handed you an approval for resignation and refused to discuss any details. You were free to go, no penalty or obligation. They had a fearful demeanor and you hoped Daitou didn't dismember anyone involved. Regardless of his means, you were now at the liberty to pursue other careers.

On the other hand, you were rather anxious about your new workplace. You had flashing visions of drug cartels and gambling parlors, with thugs rattling their drinks at you and demanding proper service. Windows breaking and masked men rolling onto the floor, armed to the brim. Ginza hostesses scurrying behind you and asking for help against an angered client. The night before your first day, you restlessly shuffled in your bed, plagued by second thoughts. What could you possibly do for the yakuza? What ghoulish demands would they prepare for you?

Daitou was the one to accompany you in the morning. He showed you to your desk, and you could discern the blurred frames of people angrily discussing matters in the opposing meeting room, separated by a large window. You gulped.

"They're building a new apartment complex two streets down." Your boyfriend mentioned casually, helping you settle with your belongings. 

"Huh?"

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were curious about their talk."

"I mean, I am, but...Is that it?" You gazed at him incredulously. 

"What else? This is a real estate office. Upstairs is the stock investments."

"Oh...Oh...I thought..." You were a little embarrassed. The imaginary scenarios of bloody battles and crimes that kept you awake felt quite ridiculous now.

Daitou seemed to have picked up on your assumptions, because he chuckled and ruffled your hair, following with an explanation. 

"Boss is very strict with our Ninkyo-Do. If you're caught with drugs or petty theft, you're excommunicated. We used to have a bunch of gambling casinos as main income, but nowadays there's too much pressure from the police, ya know? Half of our members aren't even officially registered with the Yakuza, so they can't be tracked. We mostly do stocks and real estate. That's where the cash is. 

Heh. Kinda boring, ain't it? I'm afraid you showed up way after the golden times. Even I'm too young for it. If ya want, I can ask one of the retired seniors to tell you about it. He has a lot of great stories."

You held your tongue from bringing up his frequent killing sprees and just nodded, amused by the fact that his code of conduct didn't register human casualties as wrong. The Yakuza have strict rules of ethics that set them apart from regular mafia. Depending on the Oyabun, or Head of the Family, this chivalrous way of living is reinforced to all members or conveniently swept under the rug. Daitou's Boss seemed to fit in the former category. 

Therefore your "office job" turned out to be an actual office job without the quotes. Although you were often reminded the people passing by weren't your regular salarymen. Many of them were entirely transparent with you, striking up conversations about their latest arrest, or complaining about the poor quality of their pinky finger prosthetic they'd ordered from the Philippines. 

But this isn't the time to reminisce. The prolonged silence is unbearable and one could fry eggs on your hot, burning cheeks. Kazuya is the one to break the awkwardness. 

"Oh, yeah...You coming to the Christmas thing this evening?"

"We'll be there." Daitou smiles innocently, unaware of the discomfort he just caused.

Kazuya raises his eyebrows in surprise and looks at you.

"Did you...?"

"Yup. It's all fine." The dark haired man nods reassuringly. 

"Then I'll see you at dinner, little (Y/N). Don't catch a fever with all that steam blowing out of you." He laughs at your still baffled expression and places his large hand on your head, departing.

Daitou holds the door open for you and you hurry inside. As you both walk down the hallway of the luxurious restaurant, you can't help the nagging feeling that he's once again omitted some vital information. 

"Can you tell me again who else is coming? Just Kazuya?"

"Oh no, it's a Family meeting. So Boss and the rest of the Seniors, too."

You gasp in horror, but before you can scold him, you find yourself behind the canvas screen divider, facing a table of older men in suits, holding their drinks and eyeing you suspiciously. 

"Oi, who the fuck is this, Daitou?" one of them growls. 

"I already told you before, (Y/N). My girlfriend."

"Huh? Did you seriously just bring a civvy to our meeting? I knew you got a loose screw, boy, but this tops it all."

Daitou frowns and steps in front of you, visibly annoyed. 

"If ya got a problem with my woman being here, I can settle it for you, old man. When was the last time you fought someone?"

"'s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you've gotten too comfortable sitting up there and barking orders. Let me remind you why they leave the killings to me."

The thick tension in the air is quickly dispersed by a loud, relaxed laugh. At the end of the table, a heavily scarred man with grey hair is clapping his hands in delight, seemingly amused by the events unfolding. He glances at you and pats a cushioned seat to his right. 

"There you are! Come join us, miss (Y/N). Ignore those rusty grumps, they ain't seen a woman outside a host club." He throws the instigator a brief glare. "Is that any way to talk to my guest, Oota?"

The man swallows dryly and mutters an apology. He goes back to his drink, preoccupied, and the rest follow suit. 

You hesitantly kneel down to your designated place, sheepishly peeking at the mysterious figure. Could it be? As if reading your mind, Daitou places an encouraging hand on your waist and lowers his head to your ear, swiftly whispering "that's Boss" before going to greet the others at the table. 

"I-it's a pleasure meeting you, Sir." You mumble nervously.

"No no, pleasure is all mine. I'm Eiji Ijichi, 8th Head of our Family." 

His introduction is unexpectedly warm and his easygoing way of speaking reminds you a lot of Daitou. The faintest grin threatens to appear, but you cover your mouth. With enough imagination, this could be the equivalent of meeting your in-laws. This is Daitou's family, after all. A criminally scary one, but nonetheless you've been welcomed with open arms.

"Do you drink?" The older man asks you, raising his porcelain cup.

"Naturally." You exclaim and lift your own cup enthusiastically. 

"Attagirl!"

As the night progresses, the men at the table are loosening up under the influence of expensive alcohol. Kazuya seems to be caught in a terribly involved conversation with Daitou and one of their Captains, gesturing dramatically and occasionally raising his tone. You notice your glass has once again been filled by the waitress and take another sip, satisfied with observing their fun from the sidelines. Boss has a similar approach, gazing nostalgically over the rowdy group of thugs.

He reaches for his pack of smokes and you scramble to pick up the lighter, politely bowing as you light up his cigarette. He smiles at your gesture. 

"I see Daitou's trained you already."

He ponders for a moment, gently blowing a cloud of smoke upwards. 

"You'll make a good wife."

"Excuse me?" You question, startled by his sudden remark. 

"It's hard to tell, but I'm getting pretty old myself." He snickers at his self made compliment. "Soon it'll be time to pick my successor. I have no children, unless you count that rascal I picked from the streets." He says as he tilts his chin towards Daitou. 

"I love him like my own kid, but I'm sure you noticed he's a little off. Everyone is terrified of him. You can't have a leader if everyone runs away from him, ya know? I was starting to get worried I'd work myself through retirement. Kazuya can only do so much!

Then he comes up to me grinning like an idiot. I thought, 'There it is. He finally lost it', but instead he asks me if I want to see a photo of his girlfriend. Girlfriend?! I was ready to witness some crusty body pillow, my hand was on the phone to call our Family doctor. He shows me a cute foreigner standing next to him. Now I'm pretty sure he's not smart enough to fake photos like that, so it must be the real deal. 'How the Devil did ya pull this one?' I asked him. Cause listen, I was rather handsome back in my day and I still wouldn't have been this lucky.

And would ya look at that, it's the miss that moved into our apartments! How's the living conditions, by the way? Everything going fine?"

You nod energetically.

"Good, good."

He crosses his arms and nods himself, satisfied. He turns to gaze at you intently, with a face you can't quite read.

"You gotta excuse a drunk old man for rambling so much. What I'm trying to say...well...

Take care of him when he becomes the 9th, will ya? If he has you, I'm sure he'll manage. But don't tell him I said that! You gotta keep them humble. See, that's a lesson for you too. If there's one person the Head of the Family bows to, that's his wife! But I doubt he'd let the power get to his head."

You both turn to Daitou. He just finished pouring more sake to his superior and notices your stare. He blushes slightly and waves, unsure why he's suddenly being observed. 

"I think so, too." You respond, waving back. 

How would that look on a CV? Ane-san of a Yakuza family. 

[megistusdiary]

im feeling particularly horny rn, so how about arlecchino with a daddy, breeding and size kink all at once 👀👀👀

i'm sure you've already indulged in plenty of this in spicychat, but here we go 😁

˚₊𓆩༺ 𝖆𝖗𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖈𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘 ༻𓆪₊˚

dom!transfem arlecchino x sub!fem reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, transfem arle, daddy kink, breeding kink, size kink, asphyxiation, thigh riding

arlecchino pinned your wrists to the bed with her left hand, leaving her right completely free. she peered down at you with slightly narrowed eyes, bright red x's drawing you in as you look up at her so sweetly.

"you're so fragile, aren't you?" she says it as if she's speaking to herself, a revelation she wants to confirm. she grips your wrists a little tighter. "delicate."

you squirm around a little when she delays what you want, whining up at her. "arlecchino ple-"

in the blink of an eye, her hand wrapped around your throat, turning your words into a soft, breathy gasp. "what did you call me?"

she loosens her grip just enough to hear you say, "sorry, daddy," and she nods, sliding her hand away.

"mind yourself, sweet girl." she warns you, her hand instead teasing your chest now as she drags her finger across your nipple. her eyes focus as she draws patterns across your chest, sharp nails leaving little lines in their wake.

her hand moves between your legs now, the other still firmly holding your wrists as she swipes two fingers across your slit. the brief motion makes you pant, squirming for more. she brings her fingers up, looking at the sheen of your slick on her digits.

"please, daddy, more?" you beg her, eyes looking so pitiful that she can't find it in her to deny you any longer.

she picks your smaller frame up, reversing your positions so she's sitting and you're resting on her lap. she drops you onto her clothed thigh, your bare cunt instantly spreading slick onto her pants.

you grab onto her shoulders instinctively, tucking your head into her shoulder as you grind your hips into her muscle. her thighs were always so firm (exactly what she trained them for, you aren't quite sure).

she tugs your head back. "look at me while you ride my thigh." she orders, gripping your jaw and watching you nod, pathetically humping her leg faster.

her eyes trail down, watching your little cunt leave slick behind as you desperately try to please both you and her. she can hear you mumbling to yourself, gasping and whining when you get close.

"can i? can i, please? please?" you begin to beg her, fingers digging into her shoulders, causing her to grunt.

"go on."

you cum with an arch of your back, crying when her hands move your hips for you, helping you ride out your orgasm until you're leaning on her limply.

"thank you... so good... thank you, daddy." you whisper and she pulls you away.

"we're not done yet, sweet girl." she cups your hips, pulling you up to grind against her bulge instead as you moan.

you look up at her for permission, and she gives you the look back, allowing you to slide down and unbutton her pants, pulling them just enough to have her cock spring up and hit your cheek.

it never fails to leave you breathless, wondering how such a thing would ever fit inside of you. she grasps her base, hissing through her teeth. "you're overthinking again. i'll make it fit; i always do."

she pulls you up, a hand cupping your cunt and eliciting a squeal from you, collecting the copious amount of slick you've released. she slides it into her own cock, thumb rubbing into her tip as she grunts.

once she's stroked herself to full hardness, she pulls you over her lap again, making you kneel while her tip hovers below your entrance.

you cry out when she pushes you down onto her dick, slowly stretching you out. your hands scramble to take purchase, clawing at her jacket at the slight sting.

the way you flutter around her makes her grunt, eyes closing as she leans in and kisses your neck, ensuring you take her all the way to the base.

"you can take it." she assures you lowly, sliding you down to take the last inch before allowing you a moment to adjust. you feel so tight around her, she wants to breed her pretty toy right now.

she cups your hips now, pulling you up and down her cock at her pace. you feel so light in her arms, so easy to maneuver however she wants. you're like her little doll, aren't you? doing anything to please her and be pleased.

"daddy! feels good-" you whimper into her ear and she moans softly, pulling you down at the same time her hips snap up just to hear you squeal.

"doing so well for me, doll." she tells you, kissing your cheek and fucking you harder. "do you want me to fill you up?"

the question makes your head pop up and you nod rapidly, suddenly pulling her head to you with shaky hands while she fucks you. "you- you will?"

she can swear her own heart flutters when she sees how eager you are for her, and she nods, slamming you onto her while you pull her in for a kiss. her tongue slides over yours, drinking up your moans while she bounces you shallowly as if you're a toy for her.

she pulls you closer, letting you grind your clit on the soft patch of hair over her cock, hearing you moan against her mouth while you tighten up around her.

"cum for me." she tells you softly, almost uncharacteristically as you release around her, feeling her slide as deep as she can, fucking you faster to reach her high.

and then, true to her word, she fills you up. it leaks out of you quickly that she immediately lays you down, propping your hips up with her cock still in you to plug you up. "don't waste a single drop, sweet girl." she kisses you deeply, feeling you snuggle into her chest.

[gguk-n]

Chapter 5- Racing for Love

Unravelling Max's Mystery (Max Verstappen x Online Friend!Reader)

Series Masterlist

Summary- Y/N spends her time in Netherland with Max while his girlfriend no where to be seen. They spend Christmas and New Year together. Y/N can't get over Max; maybe it's for the best. Max realised he loves her.

{Reader's POV}

I headed back to the hotel after the race to get dressed and meet up with Max. Every one was going to be celebrating Max's win at the club. All the drivers were also joining, making it the perfect opportunity for us to meet. I was so excited. I wore a navy blue body con midi dress, it made me look and feel hot. I had told Max I'd meet him there, yet he insisted on picking me up. I was almost done getting ready when Max knocked on my door. I opened it to a much cleaner Max. I grabbed my purse and headed out with Max. "Is your girlfriend in the car?" I asked walking along with him. "No" he answered and then we walked in silence to the car. On the way there I asked again, "Is she meeting us there?" "No" he replied shortly. "Why?" I asked again. "She went back home" Max said in a tone that meant he didn't wanna talk about it anymore.

At the party, I had a lot of fun. I got to meet everyone who were very kind, welcoming and funny. They were all shocked that Max had a friend for so long that no one knew about, Charles and Lando included. We laughed, we drank, Max was pretty sober, not having touched a drink since we got there. "Why aren't you drinking?" I slurred having gulped down my previous shot of vodka, I'd lost the count of how much I had to drink since I got handed a glass as soon as one finished. "I drove here, we need to drive back to the hotel" he replied. "OHHHHH, LET'S DANCE" I shouted over the loud music. "You should go, I'm good here." Max replied while preventing Lando from toppling over. I sauntered my way to the dance floor, a guy had made my acquaintance as soon as I started dancing and we were having a lot of fun until, Max came dragging me back to where we were sat. "Max, I'm having fun. Lemme go" I whined trying to pull my hand away from his but drunk me wasn't very strong. "Drink some water and then we're leaving." he stated. "What? But we just got here. Look at all those bottle" I pointed at the bottles behind the bartender, "I need to sample those" I cried. "You can sample the alcohol later. We don't want you to get alcohol poisoning." he said shaking his head. "I have a good tolerance. SEE" I said while finally breaking free from him to try to walk in a straight line only to fail miserably and almost fall. I was only saved by Max's crazy fast reflexes, who caught me at the right moment and carried me over his shoulder back to his car, all the while I was screaming. "PUT ME DOWN....MAXIE.....YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY....PLEASE....I THINK I'M GONNA puke" I puked as soon as he put me down next to his car; thankfully having the brain to stop myself from puking all over his expensive car. I brushed the back of my right hand against my lips after puking, "Thank god I didn't puke on your car. haha. I don't think I can afford to clean it" I laughed. He handed me a bottle of water and got me in the car after that. The hang over wasn't as bad as I had expected it to be; maybe because Max got me medicines to help.

I spent the next few days in Zandvoort going to some of the very few places Max was allowed to go and have fun as a kid. We even went go karting. It was a shitty feeling racing against a World Champion since that idiot can't just enjoy the race. He had to make everything a competition. How did he expect me to win when this was the first time I was karting while he did this as a living for many years. We had bet on the fact that the loser had to do whatever the winner wanted; in all my confidence I had said yes, I had forgotten that my opponent was Max Verstappen. Yet, when he won after one pout, Max forgot he's the winner and let me get what I wanted since it was technically cheating since this wasn't his first time and it was mine. So, that's how we ended up watching Barbie at the end of the day. As I wiped away tears, I saw that Max was also wiping away tears. I'm never gonna let him hear the end of this.

The next few days were a blur, I tried to make the best of the situation since I wasn't sure when I would get to meet Max again. I packed up my stuff, a question still lingered on my mind; where the fuck was his girlfriend?. So, I decided to have this conversation in the car where he wouldn't be able to escape me like he did the last few days. Max carried my stuff to his car and loaded it in the car. I sat down on the passenger seat waiting for Max to come. We drove off towards the airport when I said, "Maxie, I haven't seen your girlfriend since the race. I was really looking forward to getting to know her" "Oh, umm" he sighed, "Actually, we broke up" he said while looking straight ahead. "What? Why? Is it because you hugged me first at the race. Fuck, should I apologise?" I rambled. "Schat, nonsense. We hadn't been getting along for a while. I'd been thinking about breaking up with her for a while, it just happened when you were there. It's not your fault" he clarified. My shoulders sank while I waited to get to the airport. I bid Max a good bye and he promised to come visit or have me visit during the off season. I promised to meet him soon. With a heavy heart, Max disappeared in the crowd as I walked into the airport.

We went back to our previous routine of talking on video calls. I ended being spoiled a lot more now that he knew where I lived because I would come home to a new package I didn't remember ordering at my front door when I returned from work. If I asked him why, and he'd just shrug it off and say that it was something that reminded him of me when he was in that country for the race. After a few packages, it was overwhelming me. I felt like I was using my rich friend for financial gain. We were on call after I had opened up a package I got from Brazil. Y/N- Max, you can't keep sending me so much stuff. There was a box full of trinkets and snacks from Brazil. Max- It was nothing, did you like it? Y/N- No Max- oh ok, what do you want? I can get that for you? Y/N- Maaaaxxxxx, that's not what I meant. You have to stop sending me stuff now. It's getting over whelming. Max- But...I just wanted to bring a little something back from every race. Y/N- Yes, do that for yourself. Not me Max- I've always wanted to take you along to races and bring you stuff back from races since I've known you. Now that I can, let me make up for all the lost time. Y/N- I get the sentiment Max, I do, but no. It's making me feel crappy since I'm not able to get you anything. I enjoy our friendship, I do not want to feel like I'm using you. Max- You're not using me. I'm using myself, honestly. Y/N- I don't want to come home to anymore packages any more. If you really want to get me something, think about it for a couple time. One or two items that you would like to get for me, is perfectly fine. Max- Ok...I really wanted to get you things though. Y/N- You can tell me about your weekend. I'll listen but this is overbearing to me. Finally he got what I meant.

We ended up making a plan for the off season. Max had won the season with the amount of points he had scored. It was a given that he was gonna be the World Drivers Champion for 2023. So, I wanted to celebrate it with him. He offered to fly me out to Abu Dhabi for the race which would not be possible since I had work. That's why we planned to spend the Christmas break together. I did suggest leaving a few days before Christmas so he can spend it with his family but he was vehemently against it. I had started Christmas shopping in November, could've done it earlier. I got Max an ugly Christmas sweater with the grinch and a matching one for myself. It would be like a friendship bracelet. We would be spending the holiday in Monaco because of the privacy and I wanted to get away from here for a few days at least. I kind of wanted to clear my feeling for Max during this trip too. Being on the receiving end of Max's affection with gifts or the phone calls wasn't easy when you were in love with him. He made it so difficult to try and get over him when he would sweet talk his way back into my heart whenever I thought I didn't like him in that way.

I had sent my collection to the author I was editing for currently since she wanted to read it ever since I mentioned that I wrote. I sent her the email a couple days after going over the collection one last time. It was exciting and nerve wrecking. Maybe getting the opinion of a fellow author would help me make it better and improve it, if need be.

The last race of the season was upon us. Max was crowned the World Driver's Champion for the third time. I texted him as soon as the race ended and congratulated him. I couldn't believe that I got to witness a Max win. The day couldn't get any better when I got a call from the author I was editing for who said that she loved the collection of poems I sent her and she wanted to help me get it published under the publication she worked for. She had been working for that publication for so long and was the biggest earner that they couldn't deny her request. In her defence, she said that the poems were so good that any one stupid would only reject it. I was asked to edit it and the author was an angel to help me out. Her reasoning was that this was a mutually beneficial relationship since she hadn't enjoyed working with someone as much as she enjoyed working with me.

Winter break couldn't come any sooner. I had packed my bags; no work, done with my editing side gig. I couldn't wait to hang out with Max. The flight there felt so long, maybe it was the excitement of wanting to see him. Max was waiting for me at the airport when I got there. A big smile on his face as I walked towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck as I hugged him. He twirled me around a little before putting me down. We walked back to the car with my bag in Max's hand. The ride there was filled with a lot of talking on Max's part. Hearing him go on about what he loved was the warmest feeling. "The cats are so excited to see you" he said. "So, you aren't?" I joked. "What no" he was flustered. "I'm excited to." he mumbled a tint of red visible on his cheeks. My heart leapt in my chest as I watched him blush. What if I wasn't delusional? What if he liked me? I thought.

At his home, the cats were a little cautious of the stranger that had entered their space but recognised me quickly by my voice and a few hours later I was sat with both of them sat on either side of me; petting the two with both of my hands. Max snapped a picture of us sat on the couch. "Can't believe this is the life you live" I said petting his cats, a soft purring exuding from both. "Having cats is the best thing ever" I almost screamed from excitement. Max laughed. "I might kidnap them" I suggested. Max shook his head, "You will do no such thing"

The next few days leading up to Christmas were a a blur, we spent time around the city, walking around and site seeing. Max was a great tour guide since he stored the most random information in his head. He gave me a quick history lesson on a lot of the places we went to. We walked along the track in Monaco since I wanted to. We went hiking; I was very out of shape is the conclusion I've come too. We spent the day leading up to Christmas cooking at home and decorating the place. This was the first time since I moved out from my parents place did I end up celebrating Christmas.

We ended up sleeping on the couch as we watched Christmas movies after tiring our self out with the decoration. I woke up in Max's arms, a warm fuzzy feeling erupted in my stomach as I watched soft snores emit from Max's lips. I carefully pried myself out of Max's grasp. When I returned, I found a disheveled Max sat on the couch. "where did you go?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. "I had to pee" I said, now sitting down on the couch beside him. "Should we open presents?" I asked. "Lemme freshen up" Max mumbled while getting up. He came back, much more awake and with 2 cups of coffee for us. We drank in silence until Max brought his present for me from under the tree and handed it to me. There were a few actually; a book on Formula One with Max's face on it, a pendent with a sapphire stone and a stupid coffee cup saying 'best friends forever'. I smiled as I held the cup against my lips acting like I was sipping coffee. "Thank you Maxie" I said. He just smile. "Now, it's your turn." I said. He grabbed the other presents; which included an ugly sweater, a Sid from Ice Age plushy and a perfume from Max's favourite brand. "These are a lot of things" he said. "Yeah, I wanted to spoil you" I smiled. "I feel spoilt" he smiled back. "I got us matching ugly sweater" I said while going to grab mine. We ended up putting our sweaters on. "I didn't tell you but I got signed by a publication" I said while Max inspected his sweater. He looked up with shock and happiness in his eyes. He quickly hugged me, "I'm so proud of you. I knew you could do it" he said while hugging me. I hugged back, "Thank you for believing in me" I said with tears in my eyes.

Christmas was a weird day, we had Turkish kabab because Max wanted to. I wasn't one to say no to delicious food. The days between Christmas and New Year were a bit of a blur honestly. On new year's eve, we went out with a couple of his friends. I had decided not to drink my weight in alcohol. As we all counted down the time to new year, the excitement palpable. When the clock struck 12, I was pulled towards the guy next to me who had made acquaintance much to Max's dismay. He pressed his lips against my lips, easing me into a kiss. When I pulled away to look at Max, who's eyes flashed hurt. I hugged Max wishing him a happy new year. We left a little while later. Max was uncharacteristically quite as we drove home.

We never spoke about the silent treatment Max gave me on the way back from the club. I left Monaco a few days after. Our friendship returning to it's long distance status. With Max having to train for the next season and me having to prepare for school and my book.

The next few months were a blur with both of us quite busy. Max kept is his streak of winning the races and watching him win was a proud feeling. He would call me at the end of the day to discuss what happened and I enjoyed listening to him even though I didn't know shit about cars.

I spent the entirety of my spring break and summer break with Max, travelling to his races; which he insisted I joined. The feelings I had for him only grew. I tried to keep myself in check but all the small things he would do made it impossible. He was caring and sweet and kind, and most of all my first love that I had a hard time moving on from.

His summer break was spent lounging around my house. He accompanied me to the launch of my book; going as far as to promote it on his socials. People had started to speculate that there was something going on in between us. Max didn't really answer those questions or even try to kill the rumours. He got me a big bouquet of my favourite flowers when he came to the book launch. We went out for dinner to celebrate; ending up on all the tabloids the next day. I apologised to Max about the mess but he was unbothered, a little smile played on his face after he read the articles but nothing more.

After the summer break, Max was flying out to Netherland, for his home race. I couldn't join him due to there being a few tests I needed to grade but promised to be there for the race. I flew in the morning of the race, Max showing up at the airport to pick me up. He wouldn't let me be on my own, if he was there. We caught up on the stuff that happened in the 2 days we didn't speak. It felt like routine talking to Max. If we didn't, it felt like my day had gone my horribly and everything that could go wrong would go wrong. There was comfort in Max's voice and his arms whenever he hugged me.

I accompanied Max to the paddock, the cheers loud. Last year, was the first time I was here, this year it felt so familiar even though it was only my second time. Max wasn't starting pole but he could still finish first since he was in the front row. The race started off with Max over taking Lando at turn 1. The chance of Max wining his home race for the fourth time seemed more likely. But as the race went on, Max lost his P1 to Lando who kept the distance between him and Max a constant. Making Max finish P2, the way he started. He got out of the car to find me and his team waiting for him. I mouthed a congratulations as he walked towards me. He had tears in his eyes, "I wanted to ask you out as a race winner." he said wiping his tears. My heart skipped a beat; "You can still ask me out" I suggested. "But I'm scared of what you'll say" he muttered. "My answer would be the same, whether you were P1 or P2" I said. "And what's that?" he asked expectantly. "I would love to go out with you, Maxie" I said with a smile and tears in my eyes. Max almost jumped when he heard me, "Go on and finish up. We have a lot to talk about" I said pushing him towards the media pen.

I was waiting in his driver's room just like last year. But this time it was different, there were butterflies in my stomach and I couldn't stop smiling. I found myself pacing around the room, imagining what we would say. I was pulled out of my thought by Max now standing at the door. "Hi" he greeted shyly. "Hey" I replied, sitting on the sofa followed by Max. We sat facing each other, he took my hands in his, "Lifde, I can't believe this" he began. "me neither" I chimed in. "I've liked you for so long, I don't remember a time I didn't like you since I've known you" I continued. Max couldn't help but smile. "I didn't think you felt the same" I said. "I didn't think you felt the same either." He added. "Y/N I really wanted to win this race and ask you out as a race winner." He sulked. "You're already a race winner and a three time champion at that. I couldn't ask for more. Plus I couldn't care less; to me you'll always be a winner" I said. He took my face in his hands, "Can I kiss you?" he asked softly. I nodded. His lips inched closer to mine before they touched, our eyes fluttered close, his lips dry and chapped against my soft shiny glossed lips. Our lips moved in synchrony, tilting our head as we deepened the kiss. His hand trailing down from my cheek to my waist to pull me closer, I was now sat on his lap. I pulled away breathless, our foreheads touching, breaths intermingling, eyes locked; "I love you Y/N" he stated. "I have for a while. I didn't know how to say it. I'm glad not winning pushed me over the edge" "I love you too, Maxie. Can't wait to celebrate your fourth championship" I said. "You think?" he asked. "I know" I said, cupping his cheeks to kiss him again. His hands on my waist pulled me closer, as if it was even possible. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asked in between kisses. "Yes" I breathed out as we continued to kiss.

When god sends blessings, it becomes hard to count. I got the man of my dreams and the stepping stone to my career goals.

[dragonslaved]

All right, besties. I had my days of depression and (bad) ideations, I had my flare of anger. It's easy to fall into despair, but let's focus that energy to thinking further ahead. Firstly: by focusing on our health and eating.

You've probably noticed in the last few months, a lot of food recalls from the FDA. The majority of these, particularly the most recent ones around heavily processed chicken in ready-meals and beef in fast food restaurants, are a direct result of the 45th president cutting back health regulations in industrialized food production four to six years ago that we're just now seeing the results of as it's gone through the process and finally hit shelves.

Now would be a good time to start looking into your local farmer's markets and sourcing your meats and produce from locally owned farms you trust. Start developing a good relationship with your local farmers and butchers. When you go to see them, just get to know them and ask some general questions.

A lot of these places are family run, particularly if you're not close to a large metropolitan area. So when you go to see these folks and they make small talk (because they will, they want to know what brought you out, how'd you find their farm, what kinds of meats and cuts and whatever you're looking for, just genuine small talk), do not bring up politics or USDA regulations. Literally just tell them that you're interested in sourcing and supporting local agriculture and farming (which is true, you are wanting to get away from big corporate industrialized meat production).

If your area has a good farmer's market during the spring/summer/fall, absolutely hit that up. The one close by me not only has good meats and produce, but also honey, different kinds of cheeses, all sorts of things. Farmer's markets closer to a city or metropolitan area will usually only be on weekends during the warmer seasons so keep an eye out and check out any options you have.

I'll give a starting resource for you: https://www.localharvest.org/locations/

Any local farms or farmer's markets that are registered there in the mainland US will have some listings there with hours of operation, location and what they produce, as well as if they're a farm, a farmer's market, a grocery, or a local restaurant, as well as reviews. Use that and source further and find other farms that aren't registered on that site that may have more of what you're looking for. The farming community talk to each other and they know what's up with the other farms.

If you want to go out and pick your own produce (berries, fruits, etc), there's https://upickfarmlocator.com/ that will show you any "u-pick" farms and orchards in your area. It's a pretty in depth resource that I'd recommend using if you're able to go out and do that.

There are a few urban harvesting resources like fallingfruit, but I'm not as familiar with that so I can't in good faith recommend it until I've done some research into it myself.

I'm mostly familiar with chicken farms and fish ponds so I can't provide much insight to cattle or game meat, unfortunately. If anyone who sees this post is familiar, please feel free to add on. I'm also not a source for how to skin your meat or pluck your birds, so again, if anyone seeing this has any insight, please please add on to this.

Let's keep each other healthy and strong so we can fight the good fight ahead of us. The biggest advice I can give to anyone starting this journey is to research. Research anything you're interested in and don't give up.

I'll update this post with any other resources I find, or that others add on. This post is recent as of 2024-11-08.

(And yes, I know, before anyone comes rushing in, I understand this is not as easy for larger metropolitan areas or food deserts. Yes I know not everyone has the ability to go out and do this, and not everyone has easy transportation to haul goods back. This is where the "community" part comes if you can coordinate a group renting a car or someone who does drive to get everyone out there and back. And yes, before other folks come in, I understand sometimes it's better to grow your own produce and raise your own livestock, this is for the folks who don't have the ability to whether that's because of physical disabilities, lack of space [Hi, I live in a condo and have no space to grow my own in fact], or any other reason why they can't.)

[jlle-marie]

𝐿𝑒𝑣𝑖 𝐴𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛 ˖ ࣪. ࿐♡˚.

𐙚 Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

cw — established relationship, mentions of rough sex, 18+ smut, mdni!!

Levi tosses you playfully onto the bed. You laugh, reaching out for him. He joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His hands caressing every curve of your body as he kisses you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours. He grinds his hips against yours, his hardness pressing against your belly.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at your skin. You arch your back, pressing your breasts against his chest. He groans, his hands reaching up to cup them through your shirt. "Levi..." you moan softly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Levi looks up at you, his eyes filled with heat and affection. He pulls your shirt off, tossing it aside before lowering his head to your breasts. He kisses and suckles at them through the lace of your bra, making you writhe beneath him.

He unhooks your bra, freeing your breasts. He takes one peak into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. His hand slides down your body, slipping into your pajama shorts and underwear to cup you. You moan louder, your hips moving against his hand.

He slowly pushes one finger inside you, then another, stretching you. You cling to his shoulders, your nails digging into his back. He adds a third finger, pumping into you as his thumb rubs against your nub. You throw your head back, crying out as waves of pleasure wash over you. Levi captures your mouth, swallowing your moans. He slowly eases his fingers out of you, lifting his head to look at you.

"You're ready for me, aren't you, baby?" he asks huskily.

You nod eagerly, your eyes locked onto his. He smiles, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. He shoves his pants and underwear down, revealing his hard length.

He positions himself between your thighs, his hands gripping your hips. You wrap your legs around him, locking your ankles together behind his back. He grips his length and pushes it against your entrance, the head popping inside you easily. He starts to thrust, his hips snapping forward as he buries himself inside you over and over. You scream in ecstasy, your nails digging into his back.

"Levi... it's too much... please.." you beg, tears leaking from your eyes.

He leans down and kisses them away, his movements slowing to a languid pace. "It's not too much for my girl. You can take all of me, can't you, baby?" With each word, he pushes deeper, until you're filled to the brim.

You nod, whimpering his name. He begins to thrust again, his movements becoming faster and harder. You cling to him, your body shaking with each powerful surge.

"Come for me, baby. Squeeze my waist with your legs and come," he growls against your ear.

You obey, your inner muscles convulsing around him as you reach the peak. He grunts, burying his face in your neck as he finds his own release inside you. He stays like that for a moment, his body shuddering with the aftermath of his release.

Then, he rolls onto his back, pulling you atop him. He's still inside you, and he's still semi-hard. You whimper, shifting slightly.

"Shh, don't move," he says soothingly, his hands caressing your back.

He's fully hard again.

He grips your hips and starts to move you up and down on him.

"Levi... we just..." you protest weakly.

"We did," He lifts you up and down on his lap, his hands tight on your hips. "And we're going to do it again," he finishes, his voice firm with intent.

You moan softly, your fingers gripping his shoulders. "Levi... it's too much..."

"No, its not," He continues to move you up and down, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease. You're so used to it now, your body accommodating his movements. But it still hurts, still feels like he's stretching you too far. You mewl softly, continuing to move as he guides you.

"Good girl," he praises, his hands squeezing your backside.

He lifts you up and then pulls you back down onto him, his hips surging up to meet yours. You cry out, your head falling back. He takes advantage of your exposed neck, leaning forward to bite and suck at your skin. You can feel him growing even bigger inside you, his movements becoming faster and harder.

"Levi... it's too much..."

"Not nearly enough," he grunts, his hands gripping your backside painfully. He spreads you apart, pushing himself even deeper into you. You shriek, your body shaking as another wave of release crashes over you. He groans, his head falling back against the headboard as he finds his release again.

He catches you as you collapse forward, his arms wrapping around you. He's still inside you, and he's still not completely soft. He rolls you onto your back, his hips lifting as he starts to move inside you again.

"Levi... I can't..."

"You can," he insists, his voice gentle yet firm. He leans down to kiss you, his hips moving in slow, deep thrusts. You whimper into his mouth, your fingers clutching at his hair. He breaks the kiss to bury his face in your neck, his breathing growing harsh as his movements become faster.

He lifts your leg up and over his shoulder, allowing him to go even deeper. You scream, your body convulsing around him as he hits a spot that makes stars burst behind your eyelids.

"Yes, yes, yes..." he hisses, his eyes locked onto yours.

He drops your leg and braces his hands on either side of your head, his hips pistoning furiously as he chases his own release. You claw at his back, your body undulating beneath his as you come again and again.

"Levi... please... I can't... it's too..." Your words dissolve into a high-pitched keen as he grinds his hips against yours, his fingers digging into your hips painfully.

"Come for me one last time, baby," he growls, his voice ragged.

With a final scream, you do, your body convulsing violently. He buries his face in your neck, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as he finds his own release.

He collapses on top of you, his body heavy and spent. "I love you," he murmurs, his voice sleepy.

a/n: first time writing! english isn't my first language