#why am i even thinking about this its been so long everything has changed

[iftitah]

accidentally opened lj's whatsapp chat from april 2023 and almost kmsed reading 2 texts couldn't even scroll above

[faaun]

ok let's catch up quickly

[taeyungie]

hi ♡ i guess i'm back? 🥹

here's a little life update! i think you guys deserve it after my absence that lasted longer than even i expected it to last ;( i am very sorry about that. i miss everyone here and bangtan so much, you have no idea. the reason for all that is that for the past months i have been going through a lot of things and changes in my life. there were good and bad things happening, time flies extra fast, days melt into one and i didn't even notice the past half a year pass. although i think my absence was unavoidable in these circumstances i just thought that you guys deserve to know what's been up with me for the past months haha i have received a lot messages and reminders that people remember about me and that they miss me and i just want to send all of you my biggest apologies for leaving you for so long with no response, as well as all my love and gratitude! 🥺 i think i've been always fairly transparent on here so if anyone wanted to know more I'll leave some more details in the tags but basically I just hope that soon i will be able to become more active again and respond to messages ❤️❤️❤️ i hope everyone is doing great 🥰

[musiquesduciel]

Each day I become more and more of a minimalist.

[sutorus]

THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!

DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.

PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader

WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms

A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?

reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:

it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 

geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 

but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 

to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 

but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 

he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 

when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 

(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)

it was slowly starting to consume him.

the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 

god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—

he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 

everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 

everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 

but you damn well managed to. 

and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 

“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”

bullshit. 

the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 

and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 

it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!

but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 

however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.

you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 

his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.

his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 

under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 

but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 

but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 

“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”

you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”

he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”

“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 

“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 

“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”

megumi lifts an eyebrow. 

“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 

you grin. “deal.”

suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 

it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 

watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 

he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 

the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 

the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 

he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 

when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 

he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 

you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 

you smile, waving at the screen. 

“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”

your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.

“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 

you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 

“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”

you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 

“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”

you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 

“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”

as always, satoru is no help. 

“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”

suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”

satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 

suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 

“that won’t fix anything.”

satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.

“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”

suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.

at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 

it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 

he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 

it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 

suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 

your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 

the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 

damn right it’s personal. 

you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 

geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 

he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.

“to what do i owe the pleasure?”

your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 

“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”

the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.

“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“

“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”

“miss—“

“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 

geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“

“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”

he sits up, straightening his posture.

geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”

you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 

“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”

there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 

he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 

“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 

you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”

the man hums. 

“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”

you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“

“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 

your mouth goes dry.

before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 

it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 

you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 

you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 

but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 

“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 

he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”

you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 

you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.

“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 

“what a shame.”

your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”

he smiles sweetly. 

“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 

now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.

those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 

you could so easily forget what you came here for. 

“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”

he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”

“geto—“

“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”

you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 

you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

“then… push me, professor.”

it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 

he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 

it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 

he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 

geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 

you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.

but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.

geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 

his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 

“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”

he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.

god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 

“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.

geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 

you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 

the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 

“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”

you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 

“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”

you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.

not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 

he looks so good like this, just edible.

you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 

he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.

geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 

he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 

it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 

“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 

“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 

geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 

he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 

you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 

“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 

he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 

you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 

you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 

he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 

god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 

you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.

you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 

“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”

“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”

and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 

but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 

so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“

and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 

he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 

geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.

“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 

you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.

“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“

“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 

you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.

it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 

“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 

his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 

geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 

“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 

you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 

you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 

longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 

he notices you looking. 

“do you need more prep? i can—“

“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 

he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”

you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 

“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”

geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 

“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 

his spirit is so unbreakable.

here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 

geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 

“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 

“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”

he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 

“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—

fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 

he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 

a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.

you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 

when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 

“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 

he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 

“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”

you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 

the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 

you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 

“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“

“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 

he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 

your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.

he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 

“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“

he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 

geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 

“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“

you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.

“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 

you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 

“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”

geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 

“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”

“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”

“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”

you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 

“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”

you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 

you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 

your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 

the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 

geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 

“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 

it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 

he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 

it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.

you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 

geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 

when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 

“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 

“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”

“…is probably going to happen again, right?”

he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.

maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  

you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 

“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 

the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 

so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 

and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.

[evermore-fashion]

Did I make a mistake?

As you're all well aware of I said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr thinking my decision was final. However after reading all your wonderful messages I started to have doubts about my decision. So for the last few weeks I've been trying to pinpoint why I thought I had fallen out of love with high end fashion as well as Tumblr itself and the answer has been in front of my face for the best part of four years. A broken down friendship that has been plaguing my mental health… until recently and I'm going to finally explain why. I had a best friend for the best part of 15 years that went downhill both slowly and unexpectedly. We met on a forum back in 2005 and hit it off instantly. We then met up and went on various holidays, attended concerts together, did mini weekend breaks away and got to know each other's families really well. More importantly they were the only person in my life who knew about this blog and shared my love for high end fashion. Like most friendships though it had its ups and downs but no matter what we always gravitated back towards one another, until March 2020. A week or so before COVID and lockdown took hold of our lives they told me they had met someone. I was genuinely happy for them, except for the fact they had let slip that I was the last person to know. This broke my heart and their trust as they continued to let slip more details that indicated that I was being pushed out in favour of a new crowd (aka university friends who they had told me they disliked a few months beforehand) alongside their new partner. They stayed with their partner on and off throughout COVID and I was either pushed out the door or let back in depending on their relationship status. The relationship came to an end for good towards the end of 2022 and as always I was let back into their life with plans for 2023 being made. However I held back knowing the hurt it would cause me if things suddenly changed again. This was also my breaking point with them as I wanted to protect my heart from anymore hurt, and I believe this is where my love for creativity began to faulter. Whilst I found my love for gaming I felt this mental block around Evermore-Fashion and Evermore-Grimoire which I thought was down to my passions changing. I was clearly wrong. The friendship was up and down for another six months, until last summer. They had got back in contact with me despite the fact they had started acting cold towards me which manifested in a crap Christmas and Birthday. Yet I was still willing to hear their side of the story, but it never came as they ghosted me and I haven't spoken to them since which hasn't been fun to deal with both mentally and emotionally. Although I now fully believe this is what was killing my spirit and everything I had loved for so long. Anyway fast forward to January 2024, I've said goodbye to my blogs and Tumblr when lo and behold I come across a social media post that changed everything. The ex friend had written something personal that contradicted everything they had told me (over their relationship break up) which not only angered me but it lit a fire under my butt to stop stewing in the "what ifs?" as well as holding on to a small bit of hope that they'd finally apologise for treating me like a piece of shit on the back of their shoe for so long. Not only that but I started to miss why I enjoyed being online in the first place. I checked out Vogue to see what was occurring during Paris Fashion Week and I yearned to share the Spring 2024 Couture collections on Tumblr (even though I still think it's still a toxic cesspit). Yes I could easily start this up on Wordpress or Instagram but let's face it, Tumblr is still the easiest place to start blogging creatively. So here I am. The fog surrounding my love for fashion has lifted alongside the mental and emotional baggage I've been holding on to for far too long. There's just one thing I'm still wondering though… do you guys forgive me (as I feel like I've messed you all around ) and is it okay to come back? 🥹

[radio-fmm]

Kiss

Ace x reader

fluff drabble + fem reader

“Oh god, I don’t even remember the last time I was kissed” embarrassment and booze tinted your voice as you giggled at your hopelessness, the moon hanging high above you the only witness of your statement besides your dear commander and friend

Ace’s eyebrows jump in surprise, surely you were just being modest right? You were the most beautiful person that had crossed his path, funny, clever, easy at conversation and so unique; there was no way you didn’t had people begging for your attention and at least a peck, hell he’d give everything for just one kiss of yours

“You’re joking” your face drops, that natural shyness creeping its way to your cheeks making him regret his teasing tone

“Am not” you say now serious as you balance yourself on the edge of the ship, eyes looking at the bottom of your glass in regret or embarrassment? Ace couldn’t tell since his attention was being stolen by your pouting lips “Before becoming a pirate, I only dated this one guy,”- you trailed off, your tongue running lose and a sour taste spreading at the memory.- “He was not only my last kiss but also my first”

Ace stays silent clinging at every word that leaves your pretty mouth. You’d always restrained from talking about your love life whenever the crew bring the topic to the table, staying still and quiet as you listened attentively, claiming to never having anything important to say on the matter, and he now understands why

“Do you… love him still or…?” The idea of your heart belonging to someone else made him burn, nevertheless he would understand, after all, he wasn’t that big of a deal and in his eyes you deserved better

“Absolutely not”- it’s almost comical how you were quick to answer. -“I did love him I guess once upon a time, but he wasn’t a good lover” your eyes trail off again now to look at the ocean waves crashing below, there’s certain hurt that fills your atmosphere that has Ace’s mind reeling

He wanted to show you how you deserved to be loved, every fiber of his being burning at the thought of this stupid guy taking you from granted; you alway caring and thoughtful, witty and kind heart that accompanied your otherworldly beauty that had charmed him

So lost in his thoughts he doesn’t catch how he’s looking at you heavily, eyebrows angry with a frown that makes you take a swing of your drink already hating the course of the conversation

Your voice brings him back to earth “You must think I’m a loser”- an awkward laugh follows, hanging in the air as you wished you had more alcohol to down

“NO!” Ace practically screams, immediately feeling embarrassed as your big eyes gaze at him surprised- “I respect that”

The silence that follows his statement makes you want to crawl out of your skin before the ocean takes you away and spits you out on the opposite side of the grand line, too ashamed to even walk away and run from him you remain focus on the stars twinkling above the commanders head, alike the ones that paint his face

“But if you want to change that, I could help” your vision quickly falls on him, his freckles that you had recalled before being dusted in pink, his brown orbs patiently awaiting for a response as they trace every inch of you over and over

Your breath starts to pick up speed, your breasts peeking from your shirt when you take in air that you fight to keep in but it just escapes you. Your mouth stays agape as it struggles to concoct a yes or a no, only luring the man before you like a light house in the middle of the merciless sea. You wanted this so bad like nothing ever before, your heart that laid on the hands of the fire fist the moment your eyes met now being close to combust

“Yes, I would like that” a whisper could be louder than the words that had escaped you, landing right into Ace’s heart

He can’t believe it, his ears only understanding the yes that started your sentence as the rest died before he could make them out. He had been dreaming of you so long it was almost pathetic

Your eyes stay still taking in their favorite view of each other as he walks closer caging you in, his wide frame covering you like a warm blanket against the cold sea breeze. One of his hands travels to cup your cheek, immediately melting under his touch like wax over a candle. His face shows his hesitation, afraid you are already regretting this but you immediately reassure him by hanging by his neck, your hands grasping his raven locks making him hold in a shaky breath of pleasure

His head finally falls so he can meet your lips halfway as you reach up. The moment he delicately grazes the lips he had been staring at the whole night making hi mind buzz

Ace kisses you with much feeling, basking in the way your mouth fits in his, having to stop himself from losing control of his actions as to not scare you away. Eventually as you grow more confident after feeling acquainted with the way he kisses, you let go. It becomes urgent and greedy, breaths mingling as your mouths open so you can access more of each other, a dance of lips, tongues and yearning that numbs every other sense

However, you cannot kiss forever, so it ends as Ace steps back to allow you to catch your breath, an understanding sinking in both of you as you finally realize that the thoughts and feelings that plagued you also went after him

“Let’s do that again”

Masterlist

[berriblossom]

Cold hands and warm love

[Date with Death : Casper x Reader] [i am positively obsessed with this man that he's making write again| spoilers for endings#3 btw and the story.]

There's something so oddly soothing watching Casper sleep with Azrael in his arms, all snuggled up without a care in the world. His ghostly white locks sprawled against your shared bed sheets. His eyes ever so softly flutteribg against his pale cheeks, the rays of sunlight dance across his face, almost creating his own personal golden hour.

You chuckled at the idea. Casper wasn't a huge fan of super bright things. Even when you managed to convince him to walk outside your apartment with you, he dons a pair of black shades and scowls at everything. Now that you think about it, he's even more like a black cat than anything, rather than a sign of bad luck but rather for his sassy attitude and his dislike for certain things.

As you quietly watch from your desk, with your pet sitting in the empty sunny spot of the bed, you think back to how long its been since tou winning the bet and being a somewhat embodiment of life while your sweet little now former Grim Reaper is the opposite.

Goodness, one small picture shouldn't hurt? Besides, Casper can't argue with how many not-so-sly pictures he has taken of you randomly as of late. Even changing his profile pick of you sleeping with Azrael while you napped on your bed after work. He tried fighting it off, saying he mainly picked the picture because Azrael looked so good in it while you just happened to be there....no other reason...(he said this while fighting off a flustered face while gazing back at the picture. He then denied making it his lockscreen too.)

You picked up your phone and began to open the camera feature and angle the camera to get the best picture possible. Hell you even move from the desk to hover slightly over Casper and your pet to get the best angle. "Stay right there pretty boy....just perfect..." you mumbled while snapping a few silent pictures. You went to adjust his snowy hair to move from his beautiful face. Just as you touch his cool face, sleepy red eyes flutter open and the iconic pout appears on the reapers face.

"Sunshine....what are you doing? Why do you have your phone like that..." Casper's eyes flutter as he fights off the sunlight beaming through the blinds, all while his sour pout turns into a playful one. Your pet scatters away while Casper tries to snatch your phone away to see the sneaky pictures you've taken of his sleeping figure.

"Ah ah ah! Nope, absolutely not pretty boy, if you can take pictures then so can I!" You shuffle off the side of the bed while Casper jumps up to grasp your hand and to get those pictures. You tease and weave yourself away from him and the bed, sitting on the edge you laugh at how pouty and upset Casper is.

His frustration only exceeded when you decided to flash him the adorable and beautiful picture of him in his sleeping form. As casper has told you before, reapers do not need to sleep or eat. But the idea that he was so comfy in your blanket and bed, cuddling Azrael closely. It just made you want to tease your little reaper to bits. Though sadly your teasing and fun was put to an end.

Suddenly, you felt two strong cold hands wrap around your torso and squeeze you gently. You could feel Caspers lips against your neck as he mumbked for you to please delete the picture. As adorable and pretty as he could be in those moments...the little rat decided to try and tickle you to get you to give uo your phone.

Luckily you were quick enough to slip from his grasp again(heh get it) and make your way back to your bed while cherishing your sweet victory. "Sorry casp, but you look too good! I might make this my profile picture on the chat room too!" His frustrated groans on embarrassment only fueled your decision.

"Sunshin pleeasseee....just....atleast make it your lockscreeb to while your at it...since you can't stop looking and staring at me. Just can't get enough, silly mortal.." ah his ability to bounce back is incredible as ever. But still it was fun while it lasted. Casper came to join you on the bed while bringing you back close to him...somethibg about "being warm." But you did not mind.

You'll never mind, your soul brings him warmth, his perfect heater if youll say. You chuckle as he scrolls through his camera roll whie trying to find a picture of you(an god awful one) to place as his profile picture on the chatroom. Yeah its going to be a long day. But you never minded.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Astarion prefers monogamy.

Again, simply my cup of thought tea steeped from my game experience. Its not everyone's drink. No shame, no blame, it's your game. Warning for triggers and spoilers.

*added note due to misunderstandings.

Please notice I said "prefers monogamy" not "is monogamous". He may be up for added partners later on down the line. But definitely not any time before the epilogue in my world.

So, why do I think he prefers monogamy?

Take..

"Iv never had anyone. Not really. Nothing that compares to you."

And mix that with...

"I had nothing for so very long. NOTHING! Not even my own body!"

And add..

"You're you. Nobody is like that."

Plus countless other comments and actions and you get a bowl full of elf who just wants something for himself only for a change.

Centuries of being forced to give up or share everything. His possessions, his person, his own thoughts. Nothing to claim as own that no one else could take or touch at any moment. I'm sure if anything was given to him, he had to fight to keep it.

I think, he would be a bit possessive of anything he could claim as his own.

You are a gift to him. Something rare and special beyond words. I highly doubt he would be willing to share anything you are sharing with him outside of friendship. I could even see him getting fussy about strangers touching you. Moving you away or putting himself physically between you and whomever just touched you without asking.

Hells, even ascended Astarion isn't 100% game to share.

"As much as I wish to sequester you in a deep chamber of my palace and keep you all to myself...there is much to be done."

But, what about Halsin? He says he's fine with it.

Is he? Or is he people pleasing?

If he had said something along the lines of,

"Oh? He wants to share does he? Of course he does. I'm not up for such activities just yet, but you are free to have as much Halsin as you wish. "

I would have gone on that bear hunt, but he doesn't.

He askes you if you are wanting to sleep with Halsin because he has not been able to meet your sexual needs. And I interpreted that as he's vulnerable and worried he's being replaced for not putting out.

Imagine you had asked your lover to not to look to you for sex for reasons you are working out. They agree and you are just relieved as hell about it.

"You were patient. You cared."

Then they come along later down the line and say they are thinking about having sex with a friend. Where would your mind go?

I would bet hard gold he weighed the options in his head. "If I don't let them do this, they might leave me for good. But if I allow it, they wont have an immediate reason to leave. Halsin is the safest option given his experience."

And what's the best way to feel less awful about a situation we cant control? Create a counter situation where we gaslight ourselves into thinking its fine.

Wheeee!

I'm not saying Halsin's offer was bad, it was perfectly fine, it was just poorly placed in the grand scheme of things. If you and Astarion were having fun again before he suggested being an extra, then it would have been easier to believe he was really fine with it.

If they wanted Astarion to be a poly partner they needed to write it better. Shadowheart makes more sense as pro poly than he does.

So for me, Astarion is a one on one elf.

I am not against polyamory. I am not trying to take representation away. I am not shaming anybody for their choices. There is just not enough specific content to support it fully FOR ME. I was actually excited at the idea of having two partners in my fantasy world. Halsin was very clear and very specific about being on board. Astarion was not. And the choice did not feel right. Add a line somewhere for Astarion where he says "Im perfectly fine with sharing, darling. As long as it is discussed and we are in agreement of course." I will happily be on board with it.

[littlelovelyra]

The Change.

Astarion x F!Tav

Inspiration: What if Cazador got hold of Tav (Astarion's lover) first?

"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…"

Roughly 4,450 words. (I know its long, I couldn't stop)

Triggers: Cazador, abuse (as minimal as possible only there for the plot to do with the jerk), non consensual bite, blood, kidnapping, adult language, death, Fluff, angst(?), intimacy (near the end), PiV, CONSENSUAL blood drinking, finger stuff. If I have missed anything let me know.

18+ Minors DNI - Mild disclaimer I am not a great writer, but great at day dreaming, so I hope it all makes sense and you can enjoy my current day dream:

Summary:

You have leased the top floor of the Elfsong Tavern, and it is the first night of your stay. Retiring to your bed for the evening after a long day of chasing leads to find the murderer causing chaos around Baldur’s Gate, you and your companions are woken up during the night surrounded by Cazador’s Spawns attempting to retrieve Astarion. In that moment, you decide to do everything in your power to keep him safe, even if it means sacrificing yourself to buy him time. What comes next is something you could have never foreseen.

Tav:

“Just our luck, right? All we wanted was a place to stay, and lo and behold, we find the single inn that has had a murder take place in it. And, of course, we start investigating it straight away," Astarion says, practically steaming with annoyance as he helps you remove your boots. You watch him attentively. You love the way his lip curls and his nose scrunches when he is particularly annoyed at something. He looks up at you through his lashes, his crimson eyes looking confused as to why he’s caught you staring at him with a very goofy smile plastered upon your face.

"What?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing, I just think you’re adorable when you get annoyed," you say as you lean down and kiss his forehead softly.

"Adorable? Adorable?? Excuse me, but I am exactly the kind of person your parents warn you about when they tell you not to explore at nighttime. Thank you very much." His expression is mischievous and playful as he rises, pinning you to the bed.

"Can the two of you PLEASE just behave for ONE night?? You’ll have your private quarters from tomorrow, so behave for the sake of all of us. Please," Gale says exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb.

You and Astarion share a knowing look and burst into laughter as he loosens his grip on you. Your companions have graciously offered you the private room after the cleanup of the murder scene and changing of bedsheets takes place. They deserve some respite after enduring the sounds from your tent throughout this journey. Despite taking a break from your intimate explorations, you and Astarion find yourselves acting like infatuated teenagers, constantly joking and teasing each other. It must be exhausting for others to be around your lighthearted antics all the time.

Yenna, the child you found on your journey, has a remarkable talent for creating various soups, and you are delighted to see that she has taken the initiative to prepare dinner for you and your companions tonight. After savouring the soup and engaging in lighthearted banter, everyone retires to their assigned beds. Surprisingly, Astarion decides to join you in the small bed, refusing to sleep separately even for just one evening. After making sure the others had fallen asleep you silently offer him your neck for his nightly feed before bed.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to find you, nor does it take long for your rest to be interrupted.

“Get the hells away from me!” Astarion’s voice is angry but panicked. You shoot upright and immediately see two other vampire spawns circling him. One female and one male.

“Peace brother, we are here to take you home.” The female speaks calmly

The male continues; “The Master needs all seven of us for the ceremony. Come with us and be reborn. We’ll live again.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of what the Master needs. But don’t we deserve better? After all these centuries of torment, I know what you all want, more than power, more than to walk in the sun. You want to see him dead. The right of profane ascension will be mine and he won’t see a scrap of its glory. I am going to complete the ritual as the ascendant and then I AM GOING TO KILL HIM. This is your chance, stand with me, name me your new master, we will get our revenge and you will all live again.” Astarion is confident, you know he is lying to them, you steal a glance his way with hurt in your eyes. Does he wish to be the ascendant this much?

Before you can stop yourself you turn to your lover and plead “Have you no heart Astarion? You’re asking them to die for you in this ritual”

“Don’t look at me like that, with the sweet little disappointed ‘I’m not getting cuddly Astarion’ pout. I can’t take it, I can’t be what you want to see in me.” His eyes lock with yours and you see a glimpse of it. Fear. The fear of never being safe and the desperation that this is his only chance of never having to be afraid again.

“You’re lying! Quick grab him!” The female one yells as two other spawns blink into the room joining them.

The rest of your camp is now awake and begins to spring into action. It’s not long before the first drop of blood is spilled, as Karlach lunges toward one of the spawn, slicing an opening clear across their chest, they topple back and disappear before the killing blow lands. You break into a sprint to the other side of the room as poor Yenna is being picked up by one of them. Luckily Gale shoots a firebolt cantrip their way and they release their hold on the child.

Suddenly out of the corner of your eye, you see the two spawn from earlier still circling Astarion and your world slows down. The male leaps forward with his hand outstretched, you know it’s to take Astarion and he knows it too. His eyes lock with yours practically seeping with fear and you scream an incantation of misty step placing yourself between them just in time, knocking Astarion back. The hand grabs you and you are transported in a cloud of red ash out of the Elfsong Tavern and land in a dark, cold cell.

Gazing at the floor you see a pair of expensive loafers appear in front of you, slowly you raise your head. Standing before you is what seems to be an elf at first glance well dressed with blood-red eyes, pale skin and long black hair slicked back out of his face. Your gaze darts around the room as you see the spawns all kneeling around him.

“Cazador.” You spit out the word, your face repulsed as if the name itself tasted vile on your tongue.

He leans down and takes your chin in his hand, moving your face towards the left, exposing your neck and the two puncture wounds that are still fresh from the evenings’ feedings.

"My, my, it seems my most favoured spawn has been busy…" He says amusement dancing in his eyes. “My spawn may not have brought him back but you… I have big plans for you. You pretty little thing.”

___________

Astarion:

You look across the room, searching for her. You know you are about to be taken, so you need to have one last look at her. You find her, and your eyes lock together. She knows it too; you can see it all over her face. Then the unthinkable happens.

You hear her scream the incantation. You see her appear in front of you as she knocks you back. Before you could blink, before you could get up, she was gone. They’ve taken her. And your world comes crashing down.

“TAV! NO. NO. No no no no no. This is NOT happening.” You are frantic, you cannot control the fear that has taken over. Your body shakes your breathing becomes shallow, your mouth dry. “We need to go. NOW. We need to get her.” Your companions are all standing there in shock as they watch you crumble. Karlach walks up to you gripping your shoulders and gives you a few shakes.

“Astarion, calm down. This is not going to help get her back. You need to breathe," Karlach pulls you in, squeezing you until you listen to her words. She's right, Tav needs you to be strong. She needs you to collect yourself. You need a plan, but it needs to be a good plan. You cannot afford to make one wrong step.

“We need to make a plan. I don’t know where he will be holding her, get me some paper, ink and a quill. I will draw out the layout of the palace and we will discuss options. Shadowheart, make sure we are stocked on healing potions and count the Revivify scrolls. Gale you need to learn the daylight spell, it is imperative, I know Shadowheart knows this spell but we cannot afford for only one person to know this. Karlach, gather the soul coins. We have to utilise everything we have.” You try to sound confident but the quiver in your voice betrays you. Everyone glances around briefly before attending to their allocated tasks.

I am coming for you, little love. Be strong for me just for tonight, I will not let him have you. You make a silent promise to her, to yourself.

__________

Tav:

“Fuck you.” Your words are laced with venom as you spit on his shoes. His hand comes soaring down across your other cheek and a familiar metallic taste settles in your mouth.

“Did Astarion not teach you what happens to those who do not obey me? Did he not tell you that mercy is not a word that lives in my vocabulary?” He lifts you by your neck and you feel your feet dangle off the floor.

Between your gasps for air, your voice is cold. “Get his name… out… of your… dirty… fucking mouth.” You spit what’s left of the blood and saliva in your mouth right on his disgusting face. A small improvement you think to yourself.

“I’ve had enough of this.” He hisses. “You will both learn. You see, I know my spawn better than they know themselves. He doesn’t love you! He is using you! You offer him protection, look how far you’ve pushed yourself just to protect him! And where is he? Do you hear him beating the door down? He knows where you are and yet, he’s not here.” Cazador spins around in a circle with arms spread open and a laugh escapes his mouth. “Stupid girl. You are but another number added to his list of fools.”

“You know nothing of him.” Your voice sounds so hoarse, so small. Astarion would never play you like this. You know him. The real him.

“Oh? I don’t? Why don’t we make a little wager then?” Amusement dances in his eyes. “Here is what is going to happen. I’m going to turn you into a spawn, just like him. I will return you to him once most of the change is complete and I can promise you my dear he will hate you the way he hates himself. Then when he realises that the game is done, he will hand himself over.” He places you down back on your feet, still gripping your neck tightly. Your body turns ice cold, your skin clammy as his crimson eyes bore into yours. He turns your head once again exposing your flesh. You feel a sharp excruciating pain pierce your neck, nothing like the ones you have shared with Astarion. It is at this moment you know that your time is up.

You feel yourself slipping away, tears spilling down your cheeks you close your eyes and hold your lover’s face in your mind, the face he makes after each kiss, the way his smile curls up when he’s being mischievous… how peaceful he looks when he rests next to you.

I love you Astarion. I am so sorry I couldn’t protect you, I failed you. The whisper in your mind dissipates as you can feel yourself leaving consciousness.

Something opens your mouth, you feel a single drop of warmth splash onto your tongue and everything goes black.

Your eyes snap open as you feel an intense burning sensation in your throat, you bring your hands up clutching at the base of your neck. You feel an immense pain and heaviness in your mouth, running your tongue over your teeth you feel something sharp scrape along the tastebuds. No. Your eyes dart around the cold cell and you spot a mirror in the corner. You rush towards it and raise it to your face only to find nothing. Nothing. No. No no no no. “No.” A small sob escapes your lips.

“There she is. Well my pet, you may just be my most beautiful spawn. Look at you… death becomes you, my dear.” Cazador is leaning against the wall outside the cell, a devilish smile runs across his face. “You are beautiful. If I am correct and he tosses you aside I may just keep you to myself. How does consort sound? Hmmm? No? Pity.” Words elude you, and a response will not come out from your mouth, not because of him, you still have the tadpole, but the words simply don’t form because you are in shock.

“Feed her a rat and then take her to him. He will surrender himself shortly after, I will win this little wager we have placed. I always do.” He turns to you again another smile spreading over his face “I’ll be seeing you again soon my dear, my most beautiful spawn.”

A smaller female spawn enters the cell, holds you down and pours a small helping of blood from a rodent down your throat. She then places her hand on your arm and once again you are teleported in a smoke of red ash back into the upper floor of the Elfsong tavern.

______________________

Astarion:

You look around the room, every single person in here is moving with purpose as fast as they can sorting out the final details, and gathering the supplies. Not one person has slept since her disappearance it has almost been a full 24 hours since she was taken but you promised yourself you would not wait a moment longer than that to finalise your plan. You knew he would use it as a trap to lure you to him and that’s exactly what you intended to do, just with reinforcements.

“ASTARION!” Shadowheart screams out to you from the doorway leading into the room. Your body is on full alert as you sprint towards her, she is on the floor holding something, no, someone. That’s when you see her, laying on the floor curled up, shaking and sobbing. You move quickly to her side and glance at Shadowheart, you see something in her eyes, sadness, rage and disbelief.

“What? Shadowheart. What? What is it?” You break your stare and glance down at your lover placing your hand under her chin. Something doesn’t feel right, gently you lift her to a seated position on the floor and as she turns to you you are met with crimson eyes.

“No.” You breathe out. “No… not you.” A crowd has gathered around you, their voices are muffled panicked noises in the background. You collect her in your arms and walk to your private quarters, close the doors and gently lay her down on the bed. She begins to sob uncontrollably as you scoop her up into your arms, crying with her. You have failed her and now she will never forgive you for not coming sooner.

“I’m… I’m so sorry Astarion. I… I couldn’t stop him. And now… now you won’t have me. He… he told me this would happen. He told me he would take me as his consort because once you saw me as a spawn you wouldn’t want me.” She sobs into your chest barely getting the words out. You stiffen after the confession is out. His consort? HIS? She had only been with him for 24 hours and he successfully derailed her mind, twisting her thoughts. You knew he was capable of this but still, it shook you to your core nonetheless. The way he gets into the minds of others and manipulates their thoughts. You are going to kill him, slowly and painfully for this. You swear it to yourself, to her.

“You will never be his.” Your words hiss out like venom. “You are mine. This changes nothing.” You bring her face up to yours looking deeply into her eyes as you plant a soft kiss on her lips, she lets out a small whimper that breaks you to pieces.

______________________

Tav:

"This changes nothing." Gods you want to believe him, you really do. It’s been two days now since you’ve been back, and you have mostly stayed in your private quarters lost deep in thought replaying the events from the palace. Astarion hasn’t left your side once, always holding you, placing soft kisses on your forehead and whispering soft “I love you’s” and apologies into your ear.

“Little love, look at me. Please… please.” His voice is soft and tender. You regain focus on the feel of his hand cupping your face, you only now notice it doesn’t feel cold anymore, instead it feels warm and soft.

“Your hand… it feels, warm. Why?” You whisper into his palm.

“Our bodies run at the same temperature, I will feel normal to you now.” He brings his face to yours and presses his forehead to yours inhaling deeply.

“Are you… sure… you still want me?” Your voice is small, unstable and your body shakes with anxiety while you wait for his response. You feel him tense slightly and then relax as he pulls away to look into your eyes.

“You once told me that being a spawn doesn’t define who I am. That Cazador may have turned me but I am still me inside. That he has no control of that.” He grazes his lips slowly across yours. “You are still who you are. You are still my world, my life. Your appearance may have changed slightly but it would have also changed as you aged and I would have grown to love those changes. I love you the same now, the only difference is that I get to love you forever instead of having to go through the pain of outliving you.” He kisses you deeply and you feel the love behind his kiss, you were a fool to ever doubt his love in the first place. You were right, you knew him better than Cazador.

“Astarion?” You ask quietly, “Does this mean I can no longer help you feed?” Your voice breaks a little bit near the end of your question. The act of him feeding on you has become something extremely special for you and it hurts to think that you may never get to do this for him ever again.

“You have been taken… Turned into a vampire spawn and your main concern is that you won’t be able to feed me?” His face lightens and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. “Darling, we need to talk about your priorities. But if you must know, we can still share this, the only significant difference is that you will now be able to feed off me. Should you wish to do so.”

“But, blood flow? How does that work?” You ask puzzled.

Astarion raises an eyebrow and a flash of mischief runs across his face. “Umm well my sweet, I’m sure you of all people will know that blood flow is still very much a thing for us. If you know what I mean.” You feel your cheeks flush as the realisation hits you.

“Oh. Right.” That is all you can say to that.

The light moment is replaced with heaviness once more as the two of you lay beside each other, scanning one another’s faces.

“I’m sorry Tav, I should have come straight away to save you. I thought… I thought we needed a plan, something solid to get in and get you out as fast as possible. I failed you and I am sorry…” He pauses for a moment and continues “Why did you do it? Why did you come between us when they tried to take me?” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

“I love you. That’s why and I would do it all over again if it meant I kept you out of his grasp.” You lift your hand and run it behind his head, lacing your fingers into his silky curls. He leans in moving his body closer and brings his lips to yours. It starts slow and tender, but the pace quickens with the realisation that this could have ended differently. His kisses become sloppy and urgent as his tongue enters your mouth. You suddenly taste something metallic and a growl escapes your mouth, a hunger springs to life within you and you push him away flinging yourself back off the bed. “It’s okay my love. I can help, just, give me two minutes, stay there do not move. You’re hungry, you haven’t fed these past couple of days. I have a jar that I had kept for myself. I will be right back, I promise.” He quickly exits the room and re-enters not even 40 seconds later.

“Come here, drink this.” He sits you on the bed and hands the jar over. You open the lid and the smell hits your nose, your mouth starts to salivate as you bring it to your lips and take your first gulp. Your hunger instantly eases the moment you go for your third mouthful.

“Drink it all.” He says while he holds your hand. You listen and drink your fill and place the empty jar on the side table. “Do you feel better now?” He asks as he strokes your cheek.

“Much, thank you.” You offer a small smile to him.

“Good, because I believe we were interrupted. Where were we?” He asks as he slowly guides you back down onto the bed. His lips crashing into yours parting them instantly as he cautiously moves his tongue against yours. A soft grown escapes his lips, his hands roam up your body tangling up into your hair as he grinds against you.

“Astarion, stop - we don’t need to do this.” You say between kisses. “I told you we can wait when you’re ready.”

“Tonight my love I’m making an exception.” He says as he kisses you again his hands running down your frame and he lifts your shirt off with ease. He trails soft kisses up your torso over your bare breasts and pauses at your neck. You know he is looking at the fresh wounds.

“I’m going to kill him.” He hisses. “I’m going to kill him slowly. I will make him beg for mercy.”

“I want to be there when it happens.” You whisper. “Astarion? You can say no… but I don’t want his marks to be the last on me. Please… please replace them.”

“Darling, you need not ask. I was already thinking just that.” He slowly leans down and places a soft kiss on your neck before sinking his teeth in. His free hand slithers down your body, slips under your panties and starts running circles around your swollen bundle of nerves. You let out a soft moan and his paces quickens. The first wave of pleasure rolls through you fast and unforgiving as he releases his mouth from your neck placing another soft kiss onto the bite.

His gaze meets yours and a flicker of that mischief you love so much makes an appearance.

“Your turn now, little love. Replace my marks. Please.” He whispers his breath hot in your ear.

“…How? How do I do it?” You ask breathlessly.

“Listen to your body, go slowly and let… instinct guide you.” He rolls underneath you and turns his head to the side.

Slowly you mimic his previous movements, you think about all the times he’s fed on you and you focus on every single step. As you lower your mouth to his neck you plant a small soft kiss on the healed wounds, you open your mouth and slowly sink in. You feel a small amount of pressure on your fangs and then they sink deeper. The blood in the jar is nothing compared to his. You take slow, long pulls into your mouth, enjoying the way he moans and sighs in pleasure. You can feel him harden underneath you and you grind against his length. After two pulls you release him from your mouth and you hear a small moan of disappointment.

“My sweet, I was rather enjoying that, do it again.” He says while he removes his pants letting his length spring free. He then makes quick work of tearing off your underclothes and gently brings your head back down to his neck.

You sink back in but as you make your first pull he has moved underneath you making sure his hard length enters you, stretching you out deliciously. You growl against his neck as he starts thrusting upwards into your sex.

“Gods…” He breathes out as the thrusting quickens his hand finds your clit again and starts rubbing furious circles around the sensitive bud. You start to pull back but his other hand comes down holding you into place. “Drink.” He orders and you obey. “Fuck. Good girl. I’m.. I’m close.” His words send you into a frenzy as you match his thrusts with your grinding and it doesn’t take long before he cries your name as his hips start bucking in ecstasy.

“I love you. I will always, always love you.” He moans into your ear as you come crashing into another wave of pleasure. This time he allows you to let go of his neck and you fall beside him on the bed. The two of you slick with sweat while you hold each other.

“He really thought, that I wouldn’t love you anymore? Hasn’t he realised that he has unintentionally given me the greatest gift of being able to love you eternally.” He speaks the words into your hair while holding you close.

“Forever?” You whisper.

“Forever.” He says and places a kiss on your forehead. “But first, let’s go kill the bastard.”

____

Part two here

[xavigav]

The Reddit Blackout, #196, And Being New to Tumblr

okay i've seen a lot of people in the past ~24 hours or so confused by everything going on with Reddit & Tumblr from both sides - people new to tumblr who don't know how to use it, and tumblr users who don't know what's going on with reddit and why many of its users have joined up here i know this isn't really related to my blog but fun fact about me: i was up until recently a very active reddit user and even mod a subreddit, but I've also been on tumblr for about 3 years now on different accounts, so I think I can see pretty well from both sides of this and explain what's going on this post will be split in 2 sections: what happened with reddit (and what #196 means), and a guide for new users

1. What The Hell Is Going On With Reddit?

The thing that's caused all this ruckus is a major change to Reddit's API, which is what Reddit provides to people so they can pull directly from Reddit to make third-party apps or tools.

The change is that Reddit is changing its previously free API to be paid. Which on its own kinda sucks for developers, but it's not unexpected. They need to make money somehow, right?

The problem is that the API pricing is WAY TOO FUCKING EXPENSIVE. The developer of the most popular 3rd party Reddit app, Apollo, says it will cost him $20 million a year to continue running the app as normal.

Essentially, this pricing forces almost everything third-party to shut down, which causes 3 major problems:

Third-party apps cannot keep running, which sucks for normal users because Reddit's official app is awful. It's slow, its video player is a thing of nightmares, it doesn't have many useful features third-party developers have made.

It sucks even more for visually impaired users because they can't use the official Reddit app at all. Reddit's official app does not work with iOS's native text-to-speech function. Third party apps, on the other hand, often do. So Reddit is forcing blind users away.

Third-party moderator tools cannot keep running, which sucks for moderators because many rely on these tools to properly moderate their subreddits. And moderators are often necessary, because without them subreddits get banned and hate speech and even CSA can often run rampant.

So you see why this change is bad.

Reddit users were PISSED.

So over the past week and a half or so, they have been working on organizing a site-wide blackout. The majority of the most active subreddits have now gone private. Some are only doing it for 48 hours, others (such as r/196) are doing it indefinitely.

That's why you can't access most of Reddit right now, and that's why many users have come here.

You're probably still wondering, though - what is this #196?

Well, as you may guess, it's connected to that subreddit r/196 I just mentioned. r/196 is a subreddit which only has one rule: every time you visit, you must post before you leave.

That's it, that's the subreddit.

The thing about r/196 that set it apart from most other subreddits - and what lends the subreddit's users perfectly to Tumblr - is that it was dominated by queer and leftist users.

So now they've come here and set up shop in #196 and r/196 so they can continue their merry little shitposting.

There's a ton of lore related to r/196, actually, but this is already a long tumblr post and quite frankly I cannot be bothered to write about it at the moment.

2. I'm Here From Reddit, What Now?

Hello there, random new user. As a double-citizen of Reddit and Tumblr, let me show you around this place.

First off, there are some other people who are better at explaining that I am who have made some really helpful things. Watch this Strange Aeons video as a guide to Tumblr culture and functionality and read this post which directly compares Reddit and Tumblr.

Assuming you've done that, here's some additional advice of my own:

Do you miss sorting subreddits by top of all time/the year/the month? Well, you can do something very similar with tags! If you go to a tag at the top of the screen you can select top, and then at the dropdown that says "all time" you can select different time periods! Even 6 months, which Reddit hasn't ever had.

Tumblr has a lot of cool customization features! Even outside your icon/banner/bio, you can change you blog colors and on desktop you can have an html theme (which has its own thriving community here). That customization is part of what sets Tumblr apart from everywhere else - I think you'll enjoy playing with it.

Notes will probably confuse you at first. Unlike the different numbers for upvotes and comments, notes combines the total number of likes, reblogs, and replies into the same number.

Outside of organizing your own blog, when making your own posts tags are what help other people find your post. Use them! But don't abuse them, because then people will just block you.

There are three ways of people finding your post: if someone follows you, if someone follows the tag(s) assigned to your post, and if someone is just scrolling through the tag(s) assigned to your post (and also the secret 4th way no one uses, which is finding it on the trending page, but even if people did use it no one will find your post initially that way)

tumblr is no longer The Discourse Website. And unlike what Reddit wants you to believe for some reason, it is very much alive still. Most of the people seeking fights have moved to Twitter (though some have also moved back here again). You will not get any brownie points for being a dipshit like you do on some subreddits.

So there, welcome to the hellsite (affectionate), you'll pick up on all the in-jokes eventually, for now just try not to be a nuisance and soon enough this'll be your new internet home.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Moves

Hozier x fem!reader

Author's note: loosely based off Suki Waterhouse's Moves. It was also supposed to be SMUT, but apparently that wasn't meant to be.

Author's note 2: y'all I meant to post this earlier but got distracted.

Summary: Y/n has had feelings for Andrew for a while now, and she's pretty sure he feels the same. Can one night change everything?

Warnings: unrequited love, but also, more requited than not.

She likes him – maybe its a little more than like, at this point. She adores the colour of his eyes, the way they’re green when its bright out, but then when they meet at dimly lit pubs or he hangs around late at night and neither of them bothers to turn on an overhead light, they’re this dark, hazel hue. She is thrilled by his laugh – not the polite courtesy chuckle he spares when someone tells a joke that isn’t even funny – she means that full bodied sound that erupts from his throat when they’re watching that one episode of that one show, the way he rocks backwards a little and rests his hand over his chest. And there’s something about the way he says her name too, that makes Y/n giddy inside, especially when she picks up his call late at night, while he’s on tour and the rest of the band is asleep but he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut without her voice being the last thing he hears before doing it.

Andrew told her that once;

"I don't think I could sleep if I tried....I need to talk to you first. Hear your voice so I can just...."

"Just what?"

He paused, hesitating, "nothing, I just like the way you sound. That's all."

Y/n could have sworn that it would have been the call that changed everything. She'd held her breath until around two am, when he finally yawned and said he was going to try to get some sleep.

He must feel the same, Y/n determined shortly after that. Because friends don’t sling their long arms around your shoulders, or kiss your forehead right after pulling you against them.

Friends don’t have moments where their lips get so close to the other’s that it won’t expend any real effort to make them to touch.

Andrew was the one to pull away that night and apologize profusely before blaming it on the liquor. She’s never told him, but she wishes he hadn’t. She thinks about it so painfully often that she swears the memory is burning a hole into her heart – the ache of what could've been, but isn’t.

Y/n is thinking about it tonight. They’re sitting on Andrew's back porch, a bottle of wine shared between them. The backyard is illuminated by the light over the wide, glass door that separates his kitchen from the deck, and the blue hued, inground lights that give the pool that sits between his house and the foliage bordering the woods a glacial glow. Off in the distance, she can hear crickets and the occasional rustle of some other, nocturnal creature moving through the trees.

The mood would be entirely romantic if it weren’t for the smell of barbeque and booze clinging to the thick, humid air. It's why they’re outside; its unusually warm and sticky for an Irish October, but Andrew has informed her its becoming typical for this time of the year. He also said that being outside helps, but Y/n thinks that was just an excuse for them to sit outside in hopes that the fresh air would sober them up.

But she doesn’t particularly mind – even if she’s been bitten by a couple mosquitoes.

Everyone else is long gone, and he'd asked her to stay back for a few more drinks while she helped him cram leftovers into his fridge. Its not unusual for her to be the only one left at his place – or vise versa – so Y/n is used to being alone in Andrew’s presence. In fact, she thinks she prefers when its just the pair of them, occupying a quiet space saying nothing but whatever pops into their somewhat inebriated minds;

“I read this poem that made me think of you.”

“I bought you a jacket, but I forgot to pack it.”

“Have you read that book I told you about?”

“Would you read this thing I wrote?” He asks after a couple hours of them going around in circles of menial chatter. Of late, everything Andrew writes is about her, and while he’s thought of telling her that more times than he can count, he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. It isn’t even that he’s intimidated by her – that would be far too uncomplicated for an overthinker of his caliber. No.

He could never be intimidated by Y/n anyway; he’s known her for too long, too well. She’s the person that puts him most at ease; his heart doesn’t quicken when she touches his arm the way she’s touching it now as she says, “Of course, I’d love to.” In fact, the tick in his chest slows when she does that, he isn't nervous or worried or anything, he's just…. happy. And though her hands are usually so cold, Andrew swears there’s a tingle permeating the thin fabric of his grey Henley when she touches him.

Their eyes meet as Y/n promises to read what he’s written and she finds herself drawing in a shallow breath. There’s something else on the barest top of her liquor-stained tongue, but its refusing to break past her lips;

“I’ll read anything you write. I’d do anything for you, really.”

“Great, great,” Andrew beams suddenly, straightening his back before standing with purpose. “I’m gonna get it, wait here.” He doesn’t wait for Y/n to respond, not even with a nod, before disappearing into the house.

While he’s gone, Y/n tops off those sleek, stemless wine glasses with the remainder of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc and takes a sip of hers, hoping it’ll help combat the sticky heat that’s surrounding the property. She knows she probably shouldn't have anymore; her head is already fuzzy and there’s that tell tale film over her eyes. The one that makes lights stretch out like shooting stars and makes you feel like you're walking through a dream. Andrew must not be any better either, because he stumbled over all too familiar steps on his way back into the house.

“Got it,” he announces as he returns to the patio, raising the notebook over the head in triumph. Andrew is less than graceful when he retires next to her again, dropping the book into her lap. After a lengthy sip of his wine, he leans back onto his elbows. “It's the last thing in there,” his cheeks heat up, the dusty red colour creeping up his cheeks, towards his ears.

He’s a funny sort of drunk; chatty and able to make a joke of literally anything. He’s flirty too, yet somehow retaining his usual reserve. When they venture to pubs, he’ll flirt his way right into a one night stand without even realizing it, and then slink back to her side, rattling off an excuse involving the words, “ehm, well, she isn’t really my type.”

“Yeah? What is your type?” She’d ask, eyes challenging him.

He’ll look at her for a bit longer than usual, squirting his eyes a little as his waning smile fades completely. “Doesn’t matter,” he’ll eventually say dismissively, covering his words with a swing of his drink before changing the topic.

“Its not finished yet,” he mumbles as Y/n finds the page.

“It looks finished,” Y/n frowns, looking down at the way he’s signed the bottom of the page, the way he usually does after scrawling out the final words.

Andrew shakes his head, “ehm, I mean….the idea. I’m not done with the idea.”

“Oh.” They lapse into easy silence when she starts reading, meticulously scanning every line, barely restraining herself from ghosting her thumb over his hurried, untidy penmanship. Y/n can feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she reads. He's still laid back and propped on one elbow as he steadily sips his wine while she tries to get her hazy mind to comprehend everything on the page.

Its a love song or a profession – or she’s pretty fucking drunk and has lost all ability to to comprehend words.

No, its definitely a confession. A beautifully written one. Of course everything he writes is always much akin to poetry; but with this, every word is strung together like tiny bulbs in a reel of fairy lights. Each one in perfect harmony with the other. They’re carefully chosen, as if just one were missing its entire, delicate balance would be pitched into uncertainty.

“Andrew….” He sits up, draining the last of his wine as she lifts her head from the page.

“Is it bad? The worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ever written?” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he flashes her a lopsided smile.

“It's beautiful,” Y/n rasps, suddenly feeling like the air’s been knocked from her chest, or like she’s been running too fast. There’s something besides the night’s oppressive heat surrounding them, something fragile and precious. Part of her wants to say something else, she can see on his face that he’s aching for more, but Y/n is absolutely terrified that if she does, it’ll be the wrong thing and the moment will be shattered into a million little pieces, scattered across the forests behind his house by an unexpected breeze, the way it happened on a night all too similar to this one.

“But?” Andrew is the one that dares to speak, the word uttered softly and with the weight of reproach clinging to its single syllable.

God, what if he’s ruined everything? What if the reason he’s never been able to tell Y/n the way he feels is because a morsel deep within him knows she doesn’t return his feelings. Andrew doesn’t even know if she’s interested in a relationship – or anything adjacent – right now, she doesn’t talk about going on dates and or fancying anyone.

What if the reason she never talks about other men is because she’s somehow gathered how he feels and is trying to protect him from the hurt? That would be awfully cruel, but he supposes it's the kindest thing she can do without ruining their friendship.

“But….” Right before her, in a matter of seconds, a dozen emotions cross Andrew's face and Y/n realizes that, if she’d been in front of a mirror the night he told her he likes hearing her voice before he goes to sleep, this is what she might have seen reflected in it. That cautious hope, with a bit of fear sprinkled in.

Upon realizing that there's no ‘perfect’ thing to say, Y/n hastily leans forward and rests her lips on his, in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. He’s shocked at first, she can feel it in the way he stiffens. But after another couple breaths spent like that, Andrew wraps an arm around her, flattening his palm on the center of her back. As he relaxes, Y/n deepens the kiss, deserting the book in her lap to cup his face. His beard tickles the inside of her hands, just like she’s always imagined it would, and his tongue and lips are sweet with the wine’s fruity notes.

When they break, faces only inches apart, Andrew lets out a shaking breath while Y/n holds onto hers. “God….I don’t think I would’ve ever done that,” he admits, shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.

Sometimes he wishes he had her courage, but most times, he’s glad its hers.

A hint of a smile tugs at her kiss-swollen lips. “I know,” she laughs softly, the sound airy and musical.

Her eyes are twinkling, like two stars plucked from right over the vast bed of darkness hung over their heads. Andrew is certain that no two stars have ever shone brighter, so its fitting that they belong to her – the most dazzling person he knows. Setting his glass down, he lifts his free hand to her cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a damn long time,” he admits. It's hard for him to put a definite number to it, it might as well have been very soon after they met.

“Me too,” Y/n rests her hand over his wrist, offering it an affectionate squeeze.

“I think…..” he trails off, struggling to keep a firm grip on his thoughts. His imagination is running a little wild right now; his mind is already churning out thoughts of his future as it changes shape. It's funny to him how one thing can change everything else.

One kiss, and he swears he’s seeing the rest of his life. Holding it.

“Sshh, we don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Y/n whispers. Talking complicates – they’ve been talking for too damn long anyway, and knowing Andrew, his brain is already three weeks ahead of him. Its sweet actually, because every plan she’s made for her future has been built around him, and now suddenly, he’s doing the same thing. “Lets just….”

“Just what?”

“Do this,” in an instant, Y/n closes the space between them again and seals her lips over Andrew’s. That time, he responds immediately, pulling her against him until the only thing left for her to do is slide her leg over his thighs and shuffle into his lap, pressing her chest to his and draping one arm over his shoulder while she keeps her other against his cheek. The way his beard scratches the area around her mouth makes her smile, and she thinks its something she'll get used to quickly.

All of it is so close to being as commonplace his arm slung around her shoulders and the sound of his voice coming through her phone while there’s a timezone and entire ocean between them. The way his mouth moves against hers, the heat of his hands as they hold onto her waist, the sound of his voice as he says;

“I’m glad you stayed.”

[angellayercake]

RITE HERE RITE NOW RANT

Where were the other Papas??⁉️? It isn't right that they had a combined thirty seconds of screen time!! 😡😡 If it wasn't for them Then copua wouldn't even this opportunity would he?🚫?

ANd to make it worse🤬 it was lonG‼️So there should have been more time.to. honour papas of the past🙌 but I have already made this point. I had to go to the BATHROOM🚽two times 2️⃣ because it was so long. also who wants tolook at him that long anyway👹

why??????❓❔⁉️ does he get so many outfits! Designer outfits twenty of the same jackets in different colours??🔵🔴🟡⚫🟢 some papas just wore their robes(boring) and some papas were forced to have their shirts sewn into their jackets with very improper tailoring just because ""if you INsist on white gloves that need To be changed every day we have to cut costs elsewhere👿"* but cooia gets two robes ANS everything else???

Papa Iii is much more handsome 🧛and would look much better in the hd4k surroundsound big screen then HIM SO papa iiI deserves a film more and they should bring jim back just to show everyone this😏 and go show the people what its like to see songs sang. Properly!!! you have not been ciriced until you have been ciriced by papa 3💜💜💟 or so I have heard snyway...

YHE ONLY THING that is good is that it accurately shows what a rude SELFish self absorbed man this cOPis is(although the old man deserves no respect 👍🏻👍🏻) just tonight he ate the last cannoli without offering to aNYONE!!! ELSE‼️‼️ SO this i do think the film does right

BUT....

The door slams open and he almost drops his phone in surprise. He was sat where he had been sat all evening, collapsed into this chair in the clergy commons after his disappointing dinner, thinking. His expression soured even further now it seemed another one of his brothers was here to ruin his day.

"Are you reading reviews of the movie again, frattelino?" Secondo asks, squinting at him across the dark room. "There is steam coming from your ears."

"I am not reading them no," he smirks a little, pushing the glasses he usually pretends not to need up his nose before continuing to tap away at his phone with his pointer finger. Secondo flicks on the light switch disrupting him once again with the blinding light so he shoots him a quick glare before resuming his somewhat frantic yet stilted typing.

"I do not like that look," he accuses, pointing at him as he crosses the room. "What are you doing then?" He circles the armchair in which Terzo is slouched, leaning around to look at the screen over his shoulder.

"None of your business," he pulls the phone to his chest to hide the screen. "Why must you stick your big old nose where it is not wanted eh?"

"Let me see!" He tries to wriggle away from his brother's seeking hand, tustling each other like they used to when they were children. He almost slides free but his escape is thwarted but his stupidly large brothers hand clamping onto his shoulder and pulling away his phone with the other.

"Give that BACK!" He struggles out of the squishy chair pushing his glasses back up into his hair so he can glare uninterrupted at his brother who is now scrolling through his review, shaking his head and tutting like a stupid old chicken.

"Terzo this isn't very nice," he says it so patronisingly he has to resist stamping his foot in frustration. Why should he be nice! He never got a moment like this and if he had he knows he would have done more, done better. And shouldn't Secondo be mad too?

"I stand by what I said," he huffs crossing his arms indignantly. "Aren't you annoyed? That we barely got a mention? Just that we were dead?"

"Well I would say I got about twenty of the thirty seconds we were on screen so how can I complain?" He expects the typical reaction he usually gets when he teases his brother but when Terzo instead, visibly deflates before flopping back into his chair he realises this might be a bit deeper than he thought.

"Terzo, come now, what is really the matter?" He moves to perch on the arm of the chair, handing him back his phone. When he doesn't respond straight away he reaches over to mess with his brother's habitually pristine hair, ruffling it into a birdnest as he used to before whenever Terzo got in his head and needed a distraction.

"Ay!" He shouts batting at his hand but at least he is glaring at him again instead of pouting dejectedly.

"I am happy for Copia, I suppose," he starts hesitantly smoothing his hair back into place. "It's just, we all worked hard too, and yes we may have not been as successful but without us to lay the ground work whose to say he would be 'rite here, rite now'." He waves his hands around, air quoting the title of the film dramatically.

"You are not wrong frattelino," he pauses before continuing trying to decide how to best console him. "But that is not what this story is about. It is about truly experiencing the moment you are in now, and not letting the times of the past or the what ifs of the future ruin it." His shoulders drop with a sigh so he wraps an arm around him squeezing him firmly.

"I just never got to..." He trails off but they both know what he was about to say.

"I know," he squeezes him again. "And none of that makes what they did to you right but that is in the past. People still love us no? We still have many praising us and screaming our names no matter what Copia does. We all have a place. Ours was over there, back then but who knows what the future will bring?" He stops when he sees his brother finally perking up.

"You are right I suppose," he shoots him a sideways glance. "This time at least." He picks up his phone and repositions his glasses on his nose. "I better delete all this then" He starts to tap away at the screen but Secondo stills his hand.

"I didn't say that," He says with a smirk. "You should add one about how his wig looks terrible."

"But Copia doesn't wear a... Oh!" They are far too old for this, Secondo thinks as they giggle like children coming up with more and more ridiculous complaints about the film. But right here, right now, he doesn't care.

[drvscarlett]

Sweet Nothings (1)

Carlos Sainz x pageant queen! reader

Summary: All that they ever wanted was sweet nothings but everything changed like midnight rain? Who knows.

Sweet Nothings: 1, 2, 3. 4

A/N: Idea hits me because I remember how AD 2021 was at the same time as Miss Universe 2021. Its supposed to be a one shot but then there was a limit for the photos lol so stay tune for pt2

YNjpeg (2016)

Y/Njpeg me being so excited about my first grand prix while carlos is sitting and getting his hair done lol

CarlosSainz55 have to look good when you are the most beautiful woman in the universe

YNjpeg stoppppppp, you're making me blush CarlosSainz55 its the truth

User5 is this how he gets his hair so good after the race?

Y/Njpeg i think so, its a very long process

User6 Y/N you have been so excited and so nice. Hope to see you in more GPs.

User7 i met her too, she was so nice to talk to! User8 oh to be in a grand prix and meet her

User10 she isn't even that pretty

User11 i bet they won't last long User12 get a life!!

Maxverstappen1 is this why he is late to our meeting?

CarlosSainz55 get off her instagram and leave us alone Maxverstappen1 Y/N, he is fighting me again YNjpeg boys please play nice CarlosSainz55 i love you mi amorr YNjpeg love you moreeeeeee Maxverstappen1 cmon even on instagram???

CarlosSainz55 (2017)

CarlosSainz55 a day off and mi amor joined me!!

YNjpeg always the happiest when he is on his vroom vroom

CarlosSainz55 incorrect. always happiest when im with you YNjpeg really?? you are so sweet

User6 even during his day offs, carlos still goes karting

User7 carlos looks so happy thereeee

User8 is carlos competitive when karting?

YNjpeg yes he is. bro thinks he is in f1 User8 omg lol HAHAHHAHAA

CarlosSainz55 (2018)

CarlosSainz55 Race day shot. Photo taken by the most beautiful girl in the universe

YNjpeg will always be rooting for you!

CarlosSainz55 i love you User16 lord i want what they have

User7 Vamos Carlos!!

User11 Goodluck for todays race Carlos!!

User19 look at his eyes, he is so in love with the photographer

CarlosSainz55 its because Y/N is my photographer User2 LOOK AT CARLOS BEING SO WHIPPEDT

CarlosSainz55 (2019)

CarlosSainz55 recharging the batteries with the most beautiful girl in the universe

YNjpeg who is that extremely handsome man?

CarlosSainz55 your boyfriend YNjpeg am so luckyyy

User10 the visuals in this photo

User11 they look so good together!!!

User12 i dont know if i wanna be them or date them

User15 same

YNjpeg (2019)

YNjpeg where the sky meets the sea

User27 its just a silhouette but why is it prettier than me?

YNjpeg don't say that, you are beautiful sunshine User5 Y/N has always been the sweetest wag ever

User6 enjoy your vacation Y/N

YNjpeg thank you!!

LandoNorris wow no photo credit??? YNjpeg stop stealing my boyfriend first LandoNorris excuse you, that's my husband

User8 I hope Carlos and Y/N stays together forever

User9 right?? they are such a power couple

CarlosSainz55 (2020)

CarlosSainz55 its day 14 of lockdown and i found some old treasures

YNjpeg OHMYGOD, YOU ARE SO CUTE!!!

YNjpeg wait, where did you get that photo of me???

User7 just imagine if they have kids in the future

User8 the genes of the kids User9 omg i can imagine them as parents

LandoNorris mate please make children already

CarlosSainz55 you muppet, it doesn't work like that LandoNorris cmon im gonna be the best uncle CarlosSainz55 i highly doubt that LandoNorris RUDE!

CarlosSainz55 (2021)

CarlosSainz55 attending the first party with Ferrari and I have the most beautiful woman in the universe

User6 ohmygod!!!!! the looks

User7 ITS GIVING OLD MONEY

User8 THEY LOOK ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS!!!

User9 name a more stunning couple than Y/N and Carlos

User10 its so fun to see that Y/N has been with Carlos during his Toro Rosso days till Ferrari

User11 we love a supportive couple User12 i hope they stay strong

User13 break up with her, she isn't even that pretty

User14 thank god someone finally said it. she just has too much make up on User16 can you both shut up. your opinions are irrelevant

YNjpeg (2021)

YNjpeg i can't believe that it's finally me and you, and you and me

Just us, and your friend Steve #ForeverThirdWheel

LandoNorris Know your place

YNjpeg sidechick Charles_Leclerc fight him Y/N

CarlosSainz55 you know that you are my only one

YNjpeg see that LandoNorris ??? LandoNorris what about us?? what about everything we've been through

User5 Carlos and Lando's friendship is so wholesome

User6 no matter what team they are in, they are friends

User7 loving the banter between Y/N and Lando

User9 Y/N realizing in 2019 that her biggest competition is not Carlos' fangirls but rather Lando Norris User8 its so entertaining hahaha

YNjpeg (2022)

YNjpeg homebodys for date night

User6 gorgeous couple!!

User7 anyone noticing how Carlos seems serious?

User8 Y/N is all smiley and Carlos is also serious, is something happening User9 would you just chill out??

CarlosSainz55 the most beautiful girl in the universe

User10 we can all calm down, Carlos commented!

User55 if they break up, i will literally cry

CarlosSainz55 (2023)

CarlosSainz55 you will always be the prettiest girl in the whole universe, I'll miss you.

LandoNorris so dramaticcc

YNjpeg not my fault, you aren't a romantic LandoNorris he is mine first YNjpeg he has been mine since 2016 beat that! LandoNorris you suck

YNjpeg i love you. always grateful to have you around mi amor

CarlosSainz55 i'll always be here just like you have been with me YNjpeg am currently running to hug you

User7 I made the mistake of looking at the comments

User8 It feels like a good day to lie down in a highway

User9 same girl

User15 why are they being so cryptic?? where is she going???

User16 i dont wanna say it but they may be breaking up User17 breaking up?? they have been together for years User18 maybe they are getting tired of each other

2024

F1Gossips just posted a photo.

F1Gossips we cant help but notice the absence of Carlos Sainz's long term girlfriend Y/N in the paddock for the past few grand prix. Source says that Y/N has not been spotted after she attended the Suzuka GP 2023. Is this the end of the couple?

User1 Say sike right now.

User2 Its april fools,don't believe anything that they are saying

User3 honey its already april 2

User4 I fear that we have come to an end.

User5 No,this is cant be. How can you drop an 8 year relationship like that???

User6 Right? Im not believing anything till they say something. User21 Don't you realize that they don't have any responsibility to say anything to us about their private life, jeez.

User7 poor carlos,losing his trainer then losing his seat and now losing his girlfriend??? man has a hard year

User8 I never liked her anyway

User9 right??? she gives weird vibes User10 just say you are jealous of her and go

Y/Njpeg just posted a photo

YNjpeg This year is a period of growth and change. Its difficult but I think I like her a lot better.

User2 Mom what is this cryptic posts???

User4 Im not ready for them

User5 You look beautiful Y/N

LandoNorris i miss you!!

YNjpeg miss you more muppet. Eat your fish! LandoNorris I don't miss you that much

User7 She is glowing and stunning!!! Is this the post-break up effect?

User8 Can we just be happy how happy she looks???

User9 Man, she fumbled real bad

User10 yeaah like how can you break up with Carlos? User11 ohmygod you two are delusional.

ChiliUpdates just posted a photo.

Liked by YNjpeg and 678,900 others

ChiliUpdates Carlos Sainz is having a brilliant year with weekly podiums and race wins. He is now closing the gap to Verstappen by 4 points. Carlos WDC 2024???

User4 carlos driving like a man without a seat

User5 girl he literally has no seat for 2025 User4 oh my bad. i forgot!!1 this was supposed to be a joke

User6 im so proud of carlos,he deserves this

User7 but you know what I miss seeing Y/N's face when Carlos wins. He would always wink at her and point at her when he is up there.

User8 we are a child of divorce User9 and the fact that Y/N is in the likes User10 heartbroken so many times

User11 carlos is really challenging max this year

User12 agree,its been more and more exciting. User88 Im so glad Ferrari and McLaren are finally catching up on that rocketship of Max User24 RIGHT?? WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT

User13 I hope Sainz wins this year.

PageantQueens just posted a photo

PageantQueens Presenting the candidate of the Philippines, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. What do you think about her?

User2 she is gorgeous!!!

User45 not only gorgeous, her interviews made her sound eloquent User28 yes QUEEN!!!

User3 im from netherlands but miss philippines is my queen

User4 crown her already

User6 wait hold up that's Y/N as in Carlos' Y/N

User7 omg??? its her! User9 HOW COME WE DIDN'T KNOW ABOUT IT User8 CARLOS FUMBLED A SOON TO BE MISS UNIVERSE???

User11 okay i just remembered how Carlos used to call her the prettiest girl in the universe, he manifested this

User36 what??? User84 and now its not only carlos calling her the prettiest girl in the universe but everyone User44 please dont make me cry rn

[taffywabbit]

"why not just make your own website?"

with the announcement of cohost's death and amidst all the other tumultuous shit currently going on with social media as a concept (i am AMAZED twitter has survived this long given the circumstances), one suggestion that i've been hearing a lot is "we should just go back to the good old days of personal websites. let's all just make neocities pages!!"

(this is gonna be a long one sorry)

and like. idk! it's certainly something i've considered, i think it would be a fun thing to have, but it also feels like the equivalent of "capitalism sucks so let's all just run off into the woods and live in a cabin outside of society" to me. like it would be nice, it would be fun, but it doesn't ultimately solve the actual problems that are present with the modern internet, it just evades them. more importantly in my case and many others, it does not really help people who rely on the modern internet and the connections they're able to make there for their income. sure i can make a website and host my art and blog posts there, but who's going to see it? i can't build a consistent audience and make a living off of random passersby who peek at my website once, say "huh, neat!" and MAYBE add it to an RSS feed or whatever if they really like it. there's minimal potential for meeting and impressing new people outside my existing circles if i don't ALSO still have some manner of social media platform to promote the website on.

a lot of the "solutions" i see people proposing for the slow, painful decline of social media as a user experience keep coming back to old-fashioned, more isolated/insular systems. we miss forums, we miss personal webpages, we miss newsletters, etc etc. but like... those things were ideal in the "old web" because the old web was more about sharing hobbies and interests with whoever happened to pass by and check them out, and even just USING the internet was a niche hobby in and of itself for a lot of people. if you wanna be kinda cynical about it (and not unjustifiably so), web 2.0 is much more blatantly business-oriented, and its algorithms and carefully crafted UX's are primarily meant to funnel you towards viewing ads and spending money on products. looking at it that way, it sure does suck and Everything Was Better Before! but the modern web is ALSO more powerful than anything before it for just like. connecting people. spreading information and news. showing your art/music/writing/thoughts/etc to strangers who never knew you existed an hour ago. putting the tools to reach out to someone and tell them you think they're cool right there on the same website where their art is hosted, just a comment or a message away.

if you're able to avoid patterns of engagement-bait and obsessing over follower counts as a measure of self-worth (a big "if", i realize, but i view it like installing an adblocker - it's just kind of a basic prerequisite for modern internet safety and survival), a lot of these systems can genuinely be really positive and life-changing in ways that were simply not possible 20 years ago! almost all of my current closest friends are people I met through sharing our art on platforms like Twitter who were complete strangers at the time. all of the art clients that regularly pay my bills and support my work came from places like that too! the "social" part of "social media" is really what makes it ultimately worth keeping around in any form, and makes the pursuit of a Good social media platform still valuable.

there's a lot to love about the old web - its aesthetics, simplicity and freedom for personal expression - but every time someone says "just delete your socials and make a personal website" i am forced to confront the fact that i could never do what i currently do or be the person i am on the old web. if i was stuck hanging out in my own little space and only ever interacting with people who openly and loudly share my interests, i couldn't support myself with art full-time, i probably would never have met the kind and quiet strangers who are now my best friends and have made me who i am, and i'd just generally get a lot less insight into the vast range of experiences and perspectives that exist outside of my own. my life would be on a fundamentally different trajectory in countless ways without the advent of web 2.0.

and that's not to say "well twitter and facebook and tumblr all suck but you kinda still have to hand it to them" cuz you don't, obviously. they're corporations, and their job is to take the personalities and thoughts and art of the people who use their products and try to scrunch it all into something uninform and marketable that generates profit and pleases their shareholders. but like, you CAN still make a good thing out of them! these websites are tools just as much as geocities or myspace or IRC used to be. and the one thing these newer tools are pretty much all REALLY good at is discoverability. if you're just a hobbyist at the things you wanna share on the internet, then you likely don't have a lot of use for those tools, and perhaps you WOULD genuinely be happier just keeping a personal blog site or hanging out in private groupchats or sticking to specialized federated Mastodon instances or whatever. it just isn't feasible for me, and there are a LOT of people in my same situation. my entire industry of online freelance artists barely existed 20 years ago, and the web culture of that era is largely incompatible with my continued survival in the mid-2020s. i would LOVE to run off and live in the woods in concept, but all my survival skills are adapted for city living and i would just eat the wrong berry and die out there. i want- i NEED people to try and improve the spaces we're in, and support better forms of social media (like what cohost was trying and largely succeeding to do!) instead of just complaining that it all sucks, everything was better when we were kids, and digging ourselves little holes to hide in. much like all the other problems and frustrations and systemic issues of the world we live in, the modern web isn't going to go away if you just ignore it, so we may as well try to make it better for everyone.

anyways tl;dr i probably WILL make a neocities at some point. it could be fun, even if it doesn't help my career stability or whatever. but i do also need ALL THE SOCIAL PLATFORMS I USE FOR MY JOB TO STOP EXPLODING PRETTY PLEASE, and failing that, some actual half-decent alternatives that aren't going to fizzle out in a month would also be great thanks ✌

[grapejuicestyless]

Happier

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is not happy, despite the smile etched into her face, and nobody can see that, nobody but Harry, who can’t seem to express his concern in a gentle way.

“You look happier.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I don’t mean to be mean when nobody meant any harm, but it feels so casually cruel for someone to pick up on the way I’ve changed and mistake my spiraling for happiness.

I don’t know the true shape of my face. My cheeks were round most of my life, meant to be kneaded between the fingers of my working class grandmother while she baked in the kitchen, but more recently the skin has fallen from the bone and what was once rolled between wrinkled fingers is tighter to my face as it strangles me from the inside out.

I don’t recognize myself either. Maybe I never did, because even when I search for the girl I once was, I can never seem to find her. I remember running around as a child with my best friend, the grass stains on my jeans and the holes in my sweater from tug of war’s in his backyard. She was happy, even if she looked tired. She was the happiest I’d ever been, but she was so young. She hadn’t found herself yet and maybe that’s what made life so good, the ignorance of the real world and how it would shape her.

Maybe the real me is the person who reaches out to her friends when she misses them, or maybe its the girl who counted down the days to her seventeenth birthday so she could finally relate to the lyrics of Dancing Queen and mean it finally. But maybe it’s the girl who sits in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why she never made it where everyone else was going. Maybe it’s the girl who wished her mother cared just a little bit more to stop comparing her to her “smarter” friends when she was twelve.

So maybe I do look happy, maybe I am happy. Maybe I have never felt happy before and maybe that’s why I feel so conflicted about if I truly am or if I am just projecting it out to seem that way.

“Harry.”

I call into the darkness, wandering the house party in a sweaty costume sticky with splashes of beer on the fabric, only half of the costume I came with.

The hallway is long and winding, but it always feels that way when I’m not exactly sure if I’m going in the right direction.

“Harry?” I call out again, spotting the other half of my costume.

“Y/n.” He smiles with a sigh, like even though the smoke between his fingers is taking off the edge, I’ve just calmed the entire air surrounding him. For me, it’s the same feeling. When he’s near, everything seems to slow down for a moment. After about the thousandth comment on how much better I looked from some friends of friends, he disappeared, and maybe that’s why their integrating looks bother me so much, because theres no hand to hold onto to distract me from myself.

I slide against the wall to sit with him, my eyes finding purchase on the same cracks across the thin hallway as he did, and the warm blunt being lazily passed from his fingers to mine.

“I think you’re rubbing all your glitter onto my pants.” he breathes out casually into the comfortable silence. I feel the tension in my shoulders expand before fading.

“I think it’s in my eyes too.”

“Just when I thought they couldn’t shine any brighter.” Harry lifts his hand to hook his index finger around my chin, smiling like an idiot when he sees my lips curl comfortably around the joint.

“Well, maybe I feel better than usual. It’s finally reflecting back to you.”

I joke, feeling sick as I recall the conversation from before. I look happier, as if to suggest that before I was miserable, and even if they weren’t wrong about that, the fact that anyone could read that without a second glance scared me. How a stranger could read me before I could.

“Well, you look like shit if you do.”

“Ouch, that obvious?”

“If I counted each time you rolled your eyes when someone told you that whole speech about how good you look, I’d run out of fingers.”

Harry laughs as he takes back the weed to finish it off. I’ve already drank more than him, so the sway in my body becomes more noticeable as the burn sears down my throat.

“It’s just so…wrong. I mean, I guess I feel okay, but do I really look good enough for all this praise?” I ask quietly into the night, my knees pressing against my chest as I hug my calves tightly between my sweaty palms.

“I think you’re very pretty, Y/n. You are pretty. But your face is changing and no amount of glitter can cover that up.” He tells me honestly, rubbing out the dying end onto his knee and sighing at the burn.

“If you still believe that then I haven’t used enough glitter.” I try to joke, to brush away the rising bile in my throat and tension in the air.

“You can fool anyone else, but I know you. Even if you’re not who you once were, I still know you because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m a leech. I’ll fucking suck up all the joy from your life until you’re too exhausted to leave.” I smiled at the ground drunkenly, head hung low and my eyes heavy.

“But I do. You’re my best friend and it’s pathetic how you let yourself fall so low.” Harry flicks out the end of the blunt, watching the ashes fall the floor and stain the carpet lining the thin hallway.

“I came to you for comfort, you know. Not to get drilled in a bunny costume.” I roll my eyes, the haze clearing at his bitter remarks.

“Well tough luck, I guess. You look like shit for a girl who everyone here thinks is so happy.” Harry looks at me, his hand moving to wipe away the glitter by my eye.

“I need air.” I stand up, almost stumbling against the faint curling of the carpet at the edges. It’s new and that’s how you can tell, it hasn’t fully sunken into the floor, and it’s such a shame that it’s forever stuck with the glitter from my costume and the ashes of Harry’s joint.

“You need help.”

I stop, and there’s a beat that passes.

“You’re a real asshole when you’re high, you know. I have my own shit, I don’t need to be taking yours too.” I smile at him, but only because he was smiling at me.

“Maybe I am.” He responds plainly, and when he looks the other way, I feel heavier than before, more picked apart than before, more vulnerable than before.

Theres a thousand eyes on my back just waiting for me to crack, like the chip in my tooth from how hard I’m smiling while talking to strangers about my hopeless life. And they all say I look happier.

“But y/n,” Harry calls out for me, and for a moment I believe he might apologize.

“You look happy.”