#why are you playing your music so loud....................

[cazort]

Also, in case people are having trouble understanding how or why a person might need more than the usual 7-9 hours of sleep, a lot of it comes down to sleep quality. There are a lot of things that go into sleep quality and many of them are beyond a person's control.

Chronic illnesses and other incurable medical conditions, caring for children or other people who might need care in the middle of the night, and noise or other disruptions in your living space, are all factors that can influence sleep quality. What this means is that a person might block out 10 hours or 12 hours in which to sleep, but they still only end up sleeping for 8 of those hours. So they might really need those 10-12 hours in order to be fully rested.

I have experienced this personally for many different reasons. The two worst have been when I had long COVID and it severely disrupted my breathing, so I would often awake many times in the night. I needed many more hours of time blocked out to get the same amount of sleep. Similarly for when a neighbor had young kids who would make loud banging and thumping sounds in the middle of the night, waking me up repeatedly, or other times when people woke me up by playing loud music.

People generally cannot control these factors much or at all. Please be compassionate towards those of us who have constraints you may not even know about.

Has anyone else noticed that as a society, we’re shamed for wanting to sleep? Sleeping in is bad, naps are only okay if they’re 20 minutes, you cant be tired unless you’re a <insert career/lifestyle choice here>, so on and so forth.

I mean, I think we all need to spread our blankets out, cuddle a pillow, and go to sleep. Everyone needs more of it, fuck this “it’s not productive” nonsense. It’s okay to sleep, it’s okay to want to sleep. You’re not lazy because of it.

[sugarverse]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 

“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 

smack!

“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you�� don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[jjenthusee]

Where We Are

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

A/N: honestly this has been marinating in my mind for a while because a while ago I saw @sunnie-angel post this small writing (linked here) and I wanted to write something for it, but I haven’t gotten to sit down and complete something :( BUT i finally sat down and wrote because i needed something as a break from my end of semester stress from school :D i would also recommend reading the linked post first so it gives some context and insight to why i was so drawn to it and how it heavily inspired this fic. ENJOY and like, comment if your comfortable 💐

Summary: How do you live with the memories of Jason after his death as Robin?

Tags: AAAANGST, have a nice day :)

Word Count: 1.6k

A boy.

Full of so much life and raw emotion, who stood against the worst of Gotham.

He saw so much of its poison. It struck him, filled his veins, but he fought every day against the pain. Only when he finally left did Gotham return its thanks.

Everyday was torture. The memorials, the photographs, the graffiti. Streets littered with “We remember you.” Every waking second was a reminder that he was gone.

No more late night chats, meeting at the library, leaning against his shoulder.

You can still taste the bile that consumed your throat when you opened your door to Alfred standing there with the most chilling expression. Once he said your name in such a matter-of-fact tone, you knew. Your heart ached the same way it did when your thoughts brought you back to your worst fears, maybe it ached worse but that memory is buried in the back of your mind.

You slammed the door on Alfred. Grabbing your phone, calling one of the most recent phone numbers in your call history. It rang and rang. Nothing.

You left voicemail after voicemail. Begging, yelling, crying into the ending message to pick up.

You couldn’t walk down the road that led to the same library you spent all summer with him. The humid air beating down on you before the air conditioning sent a chill down your back. Scanning your library cards, returning books, letting Jason give you recommendations.

The memory made your eyes water.

You did everything to avoid it all.

Taking the longer path to school, playing music in your ears loud enough to drown out the passerby’s conversations about how tragic such a thing could happen to a young boy, avoiding any sort of color that matched the suit he was so proud of.

The same one that took him.

The more you avoided, the more the image of him chased you. Billboards, coffee cups, baseball caps. Robin was everywhere.

Until you saw a memorial video that some Gothamite made on social media.

It broke you one more time.

You screamed and screamed until your voice couldn’t. He was gone. Your Jason was truly gone.

You couldn’t get mad at him cheating at board games, you wouldn’t hear his laugh, no more asking him to drop off food while he was on patrol.

The world took the other half that completed you.

When the pain numbed out and you felt the guilt of your actions, you apologized to Alfred. You got back on track for school, the world wasn’t better, but it didn’t weigh on you as much.

You finally took a walk down the road you didn’t dare look down. You held your breath when you crossed over the invisible line, taking you down a familiar path, but with only one pair of shoes on the sidewalk this time.

You walked with your hands clenched, before you found yourself in front of one of the small memorial stands. A tiny Robin keychain stared back at you. You paid the seller with cash and continued on your walk.

The air hung heavy in your lungs as you stopped. Coming face to face with Jason’s favorite gargoyle that sat in front of the library steps. You fought the tears with lowered eyebrows and a stiff expression to place the key chain on the base of the statue. You grabbed a permanent marker out of your bag to write in big bold letters, “We Remember You.”

It was sloppy writing, but it captured your unrelenting, unapologetic emotions that Jason had always told you was why he loved being your friend.

As the weeks went by, more tiny Robins appeared on the gargoyle. Flowers were placed and you finally listened to the city mourn your friend.

Eventually you graduated, took a job at the library because you didn’t know anything about your future into being a young adult. Life was simple, it was enough.

You finally felt some stability on the anniversary of Jason’s death before you heard talk of a new Robin. That a replacement had been made.

You were at a rage again.

When times were too tough or when you just didn’t know how to handle yourself, you called Jason’s phone. Leaving voicemails admitting how much you missed him, how mad you were that he couldn’t even wait until you were able to beat how many books he checked out at the library, now it wasn’t fair to continue the competition by yourself. How mad you were that they didn’t retire the Robin suit after he sacrificed everything for it.

You didn’t even question how his phone line was still running as long as you could leave more voicemails.

When your rage started to cool, you joined Alfred one morning while the cold air chilled your face. Alfred handed you a hot tea that you refused to take, but Alfred always managed to get his way. It brought a smile to your face when you realized Jason used to do the same thing.

You walked with him down your familiar path to work. Before Alfred could say anything, your body unconsciously walked up to a new park bench. It wasn’t worn, but freshly placed with a shiny plaque that you couldn’t move your eyes from.

“In memory of Jason Todd-Wayne, a son who is loved as much as he loved books.” You quietly read.

You couldn’t move. You didn’t say anything to Alfred as he handed you a handkerchief when you felt the tears drop down your chin. The two of you just stood there, admiring the wood, the brass, and the memories.

When Alfred said his goodbyes, you stayed there. Afraid to sit down, but afraid to leave.

You spent the following anniversary standing next to the bench, next to the one place that was so precious to your childhood. The fear prevented you from taking a seat.

By the next anniversary, you managed to sit on the bench. Alfred visited again, shining the plaque and wiping down the park bench. You didn’t say much, but it was comfortable and breathing wasn’t that difficult that year.

By the most recent anniversary, you were starting to spend every important milestone at Jason’s bench. When you got your degree in library science, you sat with your cap and gown. When you got a job promotion at the library, you came to sit and watch the sunset.

Life was content as you passed Jason’s bench and gargoyle on your way to and from work. It was a part of you.

One late night as you locked up the library, making sure all the part-timers and volunteers made their way out safely and secured the doors, you said goodbye to your coworkers as you made your way down the worn steps.

Your feet ached from the new shoes that didn’t support you enough, but your walk back to your apartment would be short to endure the pain. The fatigue could wait until you walked through the front door.

You trudged through the familiar path, passing the same trees, shops, gargoyle. Fifteen paces, another thirty, but you couldn’t continue to count your steps when you saw someone facing Jason’s bench.

A tall man, large build, covered in a large hoodie with the hood raised. Only a couple strands of hair stuck out the opening, but you couldn’t see a clear face.

It was eerie how still the figure was, the small fog of breaths were the only indicator that the person was living.

You quickly moved to the edge of the sidewalk as you distanced yourself from the large man. You held your breath as you briskly walked passed, but a small ache hit your chest. A tiny feeling, so minuscule that you tried to talk yourself into not looking back.

Why would you do that late at night in Gotham?

Two paces, five paces. You paused and turned your head over your shoulder.

They were gone. Only a clear yellow street light shining down on Jason’s bench.

Weird.

But you weren’t going to find out what that was. You paced back to your apartment, throwing your jacket off, letting your aching muscles relax on the couch. You sighed as you couldn’t get the figure out of your head.

By the morning, you woke up early to get some breakfast on your way to work. A quick drink and some food to help give you some energy. You said ‘Good morning’ to the owners, passed by other early commuters.

You held your warm drink, breathing in morning air and taking your breakfast to-go, until you sat at Jason’s bench. It had been a while since you got to enjoy a meal there.

You sat, listening to the birds, seeing morning joggers pass, kids making their way to school, and you finished your meal. You got up to throw your trash away and took one last glance at the plaque.

You memorized the phrase engraved on there, but still took the time to read through every word. You took your hand out of your warm jacket pocket and felt your hand graze over the cold brass, your fingers feeling the grooves and the strict maintenance courtesy of Alfred.

In one last sigh, you turned to get to work, tapping the base of the gargoyle before the steps, happily humming to the calm start to your morning. Then another ache hit you just before your last step.

You turned around, but all the people hanging around the block were further away, enjoying the company of others or taking a stroll. You glanced around, unsure of what you were looking for.

But your search was interrupted by the cheerful voice of your coworker making his way up the steps.

You pushed down the feeling of the unknown, but some days you always felt like maybe Jason was with you, maybe from his bench built in his memory or the fact that this place was important to the two of you, but you always knew you were going to carry a portion of Jason with you.

In some comforting way, you told yourself that maybe your Jason never left.

[hoesluvjude]

Winter Wonderland || jobe bellingham

Word count:1,4k words

Genre:fluff

Author's note :first time writing for jobe and this was a request.enjoy:)

Masterlist

The crisp winter air nipped at your cheeks as you wandered through London’s Winter Wonderland with Jobe, the glow of twinkling fairy lights reflecting in his wide smile.

The creaky wooden sign read “House of horrors " in faded, blood-red letters, the entrance draped with cobwebs and flickering lanterns. You and Jobe stood in front of it, the muffled screams of previous visitors echoing from within.

“You sure about this?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Jobe said, feigning confidence. “I’ve got this. You’ll be the one clinging to me in five seconds flat.”

You smirked, not buying it. “We’ll see about that.”

The attendant ushered you inside, and instantly, darkness enveloped you both. Jobe stepped closer, his arm brushing yours as he muttered, “Alright, it's not too bad so far…”

Just then, a motion-activated skeleton lunged from the shadows, its jaw clattering as it shrieked. Jobe let out a startled yelp, practically jumping behind you.

“Not scared, huh?” you teased, biting back laughter.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture. “I was just… caught off guard. Happens to the best of us.”

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, his reaction made the whole experience twice as fun. As you moved deeper into the maze of creepy corridors, eerie music played, and fog curled around your feet. A door creaked open ahead, and you both froze.

“Okay, you go first,” Jobe said quickly, gesturing for you to take the lead.

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re supposed to protect me, remember?”

“I’m protecting you by letting you prove how fearless you are,” he countered, a cheeky grin on his face despite the unease in his eyes.

With a sigh, you pushed the door open, revealing a pitch-black room. The moment you stepped inside, strobe lights flashed, revealing a clown lunging from the corner.

Jobe grabbed your arm with a startled shout, practically hiding behind you. “Nope. Nope. Nope!”

You couldn’t stop laughing, even as your own heart raced. “Jobe, it’s just a guy in makeup!”

“Yeah, well, that guy in makeup almost made me jump out of my skin,” he muttered, refusing to let go of your arm.

The rest of the haunted house was a blur of jumpscares, laughter, and Jobe’s increasingly dramatic reactions. By the time you emerged into the safety of the park, the two of you were breathless from a mix of fear and laughter.

“Alright, fine,” Jobe admitted, leaning against a railing to catch his breath. “Maybe haunted houses aren’t my thing.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” you said, grinning as you nudged him with your shoulder.

He shot you a mock glare. “Hey, at least I didn’t scream that loud.”

“Loud enough to scare the ghosts away,” you teased, clutching your sides as you laughed.

Jobe couldn’t help but laugh too, shaking his head. “Next time, we’re sticking to the Ferris wheel. My heart can’t handle you laughing at me like this.”

“Deal,” you said, still grinning as you grabbed his arm. “But for the record, I think you were very brave… eventually.”, chuckling.

“Oh, ha-ha,” he quipped, rolling his eyes but clearly enjoying himself. “You just wait until we get to the rides. I’ll show you who’s laughing then.”

The two of you wandered through the maze of festive stalls, stopping occasionally to admire hand-crafted ornaments or taste a sample of spiced nuts. Jobe’s eyes lit up when he spotted the towering Ferris wheel. “Come on, let’s do it!” he said, tugging your hand with childlike enthusiasm.

As the wheel slowly climbed, the chaos of the park melted into a serene view. Jobe nudged you with his elbow. “See? Best seat in the house.”

You glanced at him, only to find his eyes already on you, his usual cheeky grin softening into something sweeter. “Glad you’re here with me,” he said quietly, almost shy.

The moment lingered, the chill of the evening forgotten as the Ferris wheel reached its peak, the world below sparkling like a snow globe.

----

“Alright,” Jobe broke the silence, his grin returning. “Now we race to the bumper cars. Loser buys hot chocolate!”

With a playful shove and a head start, he was already off, his laughter echoing through the frosty night air. You sprinted after him, determined not to let him win so easily. But it was no contest. Jobe darted ahead like he was weaving through defenders on the pitch, and by the time you reached the bumper cars, he was already leaning casually against the railings, arms crossed, his smug grin waiting to greet you.

“Too easy,” he teased, pretending to stretch like he’d just run a marathon.

You bent over, hands on your knees,to catch your breath. “Unfair advantage!” you protested, standing upright and pointing at him. “You’re literally a professional athlete. I don’t stand a chance.”

Jobe laughed, that warm, rich sound making you forget the sting of defeat.

You gave him a playful shove, grumbling under your breath about how footballers always had to show off. “Fine, you win. But you’re definitely buying the next round of hot chocolate.”

Jobe held up his hands in mock surrender. “Deal. But first—” He gestured toward a nearby shooting game booth, where plush toys of all sizes hung as prizes. “Let me make it up to you.”

You followed him to the booth, watching as he handed over the money and picked up the plastic rifle. He took a second to size up the targets, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. “Don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’m clutch under pressure.”

True to his word, Jobe hit every single target with practiced precision. The booth attendant gave an impressed whistle before handing over the biggest prize of the lot: a massive teddy bear nearly as tall as you.

“For you,” Jobe said, presenting the bear with a dramatic bow.

You took it, struggling to hold the oversized plush in your arms. “Oh, so now you’re trying to bribe me into forgetting about the race?” you joked, peeking over the bear’s head.

Jobe laughed, sliding an arm around your shoulders to help steady you and your new companion. “Call it a peace offering. But if it works, I won’t complain.”

The two of you walked toward a stand selling hot chocolate, the oversized teddy bear snug in your arms and Jobe by your side.

“Two, please,” Jobe said to the vendor, turning to you with a mischievous grin. “Extra marshmallows for you, of course.”

The cup in your hands felt like a warm hug, and you couldn’t help but laugh when Jobe immediately took a sip of his, only to wince and blow dramatically on the steaming drink. “Careful,” you teased. “Wouldn’t want to burn that tongue of yours.”

----

The smell of sweet treats filled the air as you and Jobe wandered toward the cotton candy stand, the colorful clouds of spun sugar glowing under the festive lights.

“I’m telling you,” Jobe said with a grin, “I can finish an entire stick faster than you.”

You raised an eyebrow, matching his playful tone. “Oh, really? Big talk for someone who took forever to finish that hot chocolate.”

“That’s because I was savoring it,” he shot back, stepping up to the counter.

The vendor handed over two massive swirls of pink and blue cotton candy, and you barely had time to admire the sugary fluff before Jobe was already taking a giant bite.

“Careful, you’ll choke,” you warned, laughing as strands of candy stuck to his face.

“Worth it,” he said through a mouthful, wiping at the sticky sugar on his chin. “This is top-tier cotton candy. You’ve got no chance.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a more deliberate bite of your own. The sweetness melted on your tongue, and for a moment, you simply enjoyed the cheerful buzz of the park around you.

But Jobe wasn’t letting you off the hook. “You’re losing, by the way,” he teased, holding up his stick to show how much progress he’d made.

“It’s not a race,” you countered, smirking as you plucked a piece of his cotton candy and popped it into your mouth.

“Oi!” he exclaimed, feigning outrage. “That’s cheating!”

“All’s fair in love and cotton candy,” you replied with a cheeky grin.

Jobe shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. “You’re lucky I’m nice. Next time, though, I’m guarding my food.”

“Next time, I’m ordering popcorn instead,” you said, laughing as you nudged him with your shoulder.

By the time the cotton candy was gone, both of you were sticky with sugar and laughing too hard to care. The night seemed to sparkle a little brighter with Jobe at your side, his laughter as sweet as the treats you'd just shared.

[andromeda-nova-writing]

Cuff it 👀

Well, you got me. Forcing me to write the fic I have been joking about for a whole year now. Safe to say this fic requires you to listen to CUFF IT. It's a good song I would love to go roller skating while to one day. The disco vibes beg for the skates. This fic isn't about that. I present a reader that is very horny down bad for Wriothesley while I attempt to keep this humorous and safe for work.

I think it's very obvious there is reference to sexual content. It was very hard to think of ways to keep this sfw considering the lyrical content. I give you the long joked about CUFF IT fic.

Words: 1949 Fem!Reader Modern AU This feels like such a crack fic

Navia spit out her drink as Y/N’s phone began ringing, interrupting the music they had been listening to. “Why is that your ringtone?”

“So you have no complaints about me playing the song, but when it’s my ringtone, there is a complaint?” Y/N asked, still standing on top of the step ladder as she put dishes away in the top cabinet.

“I agree it’s a good song but seriously that's your ringtone?” She asked again.

“I have my reasons. Just answer it for me. You’re closer.” It was easier to just keep shoving cups in the cabinet than to take a break. That box was almost empty.

Navia looked at the call screen. “You have a song about about riding-”

“Just answer!”

Navia swiped answered the call and placed it on speaker for Y/N to listen. “Took you long enough.” Wriothesley’s voice came through the speaker.

“Yeah, we’re putting stuff up still. Navia had to rush to grab my phone. How are you and Clorinde doing with my furniture?” Y/N spoke loud enough to be clear.

“Perfectly strapped down to the rental. We took a detour to pick up some food if you don’t mind.” He continued explaining. “Clorinde said you and Navia were talking about wanting to try out that new restaurant that opened so we just got some stuff from there.”

“Good memory. Navia kept staring at the menu when we were on break.” She told on her friend.

“I’m just curious to see how they make their cakes. It’s my job as a baker to see how other places make the same desserts to see what I can do better.” Navia defended.

“Which is why we made sure to grab some,” Clorinde said, sounding tired from the lifting they had been doing.

“We should take a nice break when y’all get back. We got most of the kitchen unpacked anyway. How long till you’re back?” Y/N asked.

“Five or so minutes. Is the door still open?”

“Yeah.”

“See you soon then,” Wriothesley spoke before hanging up. The music from Y/N’s phone began to play again filling the mostly empty room.

“Is this ringtone my horrible way of finding out you two are dating?” Navia asked now a little in horror at how completely inappropriate Y/N’s taste in ringtones was.

“Nope!” Another shelf had been filled, and on to the next. “But if we were dating I would happily act out said lyrics.”

“That’s too much information.” And not something Navia even wanted the mental image of.

“If I have to hear about what you would like to do with Clorinde behind closed doors, I think you can deal with the lyrical content of ‘Cuff It’. I mean it’s only bad when you pay attention to the lyrics.”

“I could excuse it if the lyrics were set to the chorus! At least that’s tame in comparison, you might be able to get away with it if he overheard that as your ringtone for him.”

“And Wriothesley won’t hear what I have set as his ringtone. Even then I think everyone knows it’s my favorite song.” Y/N defended herself. She had a few months of this as his ringtone and nothing bad had happened so she must have been in the clear with that silly decision she made late one night updating ringtones for her friends.

“Even then, don’t you think on the off chance he hears it there won’t be questions. I mean the lyrics it opens with are ‘Hypersonic, sex erotic’. I think anyone would ask questions.” Navia tried appealing to her sense of reason.

“You know I keep my ringer off most of the time anyway. It only played because I’m connected to a Bluetooth speaker. I'm perfectly fine to keep those lyrics as a ringtone that plays like in a blue moon.”

Navia rubbed the temples of her forehead. If this was what she was like before even making a move on Wriothesley, she was afraid of what would happen if they ever became an item. “What even drove you to set the dirtiest part of the song as his ringtone? Actually, do I even want to know?”

Y/N laughed. “You remember last Halloween when he got forced to dress up? This song just happened to be playing as he was twirling around handcuffs. I can still see the twirls as the song played.” She began singing as the memory played in her head. “Come and cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, cuff it, baby. While I buss it-”

“That better not be why this is your favorite song.” Navia interrupted. “Oh my gosh, is that why you sing that part so loud?”

“The song is two years old and that only happened last year. I've been loving this song. And perhaps. A girl can daydream.”

“Just ask him out instead of being ridiculous. He’s gonna catch that ringtone one day.”

“When you ask out Clorinde! Even then I’m not sure if he would even be open to the idea of going out on a date. If I ask him out it might make things weird between us. I really do like him. More than I just want to sit on him kind of way.” Navia rolled her eyes at that sentence as Y/N continued. “I mean I know he can look scary but he is just such a sweetheart! I mean come on he didn’t have to help me move. Then there was that one time he picked me up cause there was a nail in my tire. Oh, and that day he begged to come over when I was watching my grandma’s puppy.”

“I get it! I just really think you should ask him out. Have you considered maybe he does all those things 'cause he likes you too?” Navia could hear the rental vehicle pull up. “I’m gonna go see what they need help with.”

Y/N frowned at the question Navia had left her on. There was no way she would be pondering such a question when she had a cabinet almost filled and Wriothesly just outside her new home.

Even then there wasn't anything wrong about that song being her ringtone. Plenty of people had ringtones with raunchy lyrics. This one was at least award-winning and it sounded so fun that not everyone even saw how dirty of a song it was. Was there really anything wrong with having the ringtone of the guy she would love to fall in love with to be a song about wanting to ride his dick?

…okay maybe phrasing it like that she could see Navia’s point. Y/N sighed. Guess it was time to change her ringtone for Wriothesley to be something more appropriate. It was a 2 am decision and to be fair, no one ever had good ideas at that hour.

She could hear bags being placed on the counter. “Part of taking a break requires you to get down from there.” Wriothesley was quick to remind her.

“I'm almost done. I'll get down in a bit. No issues with loading anything right?” She asked not wanting to look him in the eye just yet considering her previous thoughts.

“It went well. It was tiring though. Your bed frame was heavier than it looked though.”

“Good thing I have your help then. Actually, could you hand me my phone real quick?” She wanted to see time but also to change the album that was playing.

Wriothesley grabbed the phone for her before walking over. “Yeah, here you go.” There wasn't even a chance to grab the phone before it started ringing. The phone lit up with his name on the screen and a photo of him filling the screen.

Hypersonic, sex erotic On my body, boy, you got it Hit them 'draulics, while I ride it Got me actin' hella thotty So excited, so exotic

Despite the song on her ringtone playing so loudly, the room was just quiet. Navia was right and she was a fool. She felt frozen, unable to move despite the fact she could have easily taken the phone out of his hand.

Wriothesley answered the phone before the song could be played any further. Clorinde’s voice came through the speakers. “Navia and I are going back to the restaurant. They forgot some of your food. Wriothesley’s phone is still with us. Let him know.”

“Will do,” Y/N answered before Clorinde hung up the phone where her music had once again returned to the speakers. “I must set the wrong song as my ringtone for you. Funny mistake right?”

“When I switched phone brands you were the one who kept showing me the different ways to customize it.” Wriothesley reminded her. “You can’t stand on that ladder forever.”

“I feel like it’s better if I do.” The longer she stayed on the ladder, the longer till her feelings had to be rejected.

“Get down.”

It was hard not to frown as she got down from the step ladder. She wouldn’t blame him if he wanted to leave the moment Clorinde and Navia got back with the food and his phone. She didn't dare look him in the eye.

“I know it's one of your favorites and all but I think I'm going to need some more explanation than that of why you have that set as my ringtone.” He was at least kind enough to give her the phone back.

“You're a smart guy. Don't make me. This is embarrassing enough.” Y/N put the phone down on the counter behind her after turning down the volume of music playing. “Just let me down already. It's not like I was ever expecting a chance. It doesn't take a genius to see you weren't interested in any sort of relationship.”

“Who said I was uninterested?”

A rough calloused hand gently moved her chin up forcing her to look Wriothesley in the eyes. “You never acted as you were.” The words came out quiet, still flustered from before.

“It's not like you made it clear before either. Even then when I did try asking you out before, there was always something going on to where you couldn't go. I almost thought you were purposefully trying to avoid me.”

“I would never. I was just busy. I didn't even think you were asking me out.” Her eyes drifted off to the side. “How many times?”

Wriothesley let out a nervous laugh. “I would rather not count that.”

“I can’t believe I’m that oblivious that you won't even tell me how many times. Gosh, I'm stupid.”

“I wouldn’t call you stupid. Just distracted.”

“That doesn't help me feel better.”

“I have an idea what might make you feel better.”

Y/N laughed at herself. “Yeah, crawling under my blankets never to return.”

“Then let me do this before you go.”

The kiss from Wriothesley was gentle, warm, and inviting. Tender yet she could tell how much he wanted it. She didn’t even notice how her arms moved on their own, desperate to pull him closer. There was the faint taste of tea, not surprising with how cold it had been that day.

That was the perfect song to set as her ringtone with it leading to this. The part of her that planned on cursing that restaurant just for being the reason Clorinde had called her was now thanking them for forgetting their food. It was a perfect miracle.

If it wasn't for the fact that she was hungry and had a deadline on when to return the rental truck, that door would be locked. It would be best if Navia and Clorinde took their sweet time so she could keep savoring this kiss.

[episodes-ff]

Touched

This a cute lil something something that I had playing out in my head for a few weeks now so I thought I’d put it into reality. Enjoyyyy!!!!

**SIX YEARS AGO**

Anaya

"Boyyyyyy, I am not doing all that!" I giggled over FaceTime as Terry begged for me to come with him to the club with his friends. It's been a month since Terry and I have started talking and one thing I've learned about him is he is very much persistent to get what he wants. We’ve been playfully going back and forth over the last hour because his cousin Mike is in town and he wants me to come out. “Come on, girl, we talk on the phone enough. I wanna see your pretty ass in person.” He smirked as he rid himself of his sweaty gym clothes. Eyeing his moist torso through the screen, I subconsciously bit my lip analyzing the sculpted details of his perfect body as my body flushed with heat.

"You know, Anaya, it's a little rude to stare." He husked smoothly causing me to scoff. "Boy whatever! I was not looking at your arrogant ass." I fussed making him laugh as I waved him off. "You haven't taken your eyes off me since we got on the phone, girl. Just admit you want me, Mamas." He flirted causing me to flip him the bird. "When?" "Never." "We'll see." He fought back as I rolled my eyes. "Imma have yo pretty ass." He mumbled under his breath while grabbing a water from his kitchen. "You said what?" "Nothing." "You know you talk a lot of shit?" "Why are you such a hater, Anaya?" "Why are you so annoying, Terry?" I countered as he bit his lip and shook his head at me deep in thought. "Come out with me. I'm not taking no either." Taking a gulp of water as he stared me down in the camera, my pussy subtly throbbed under the eye contact before I let out a deep groan. "Ugghhhhh fine! Damn!" "Now was it so hard to listen to Daddy?" "You are not my damn Daddy." "Not yet." He once again mumbled yet again thinking I hadn’t caught it. "Send the address and get off my phone." I fussed before he chuckled heartily and I hung up. Hearing a ping, I checked my texts to confirm before I got up to go find an outfit.

Taking in my appearance, I smiled doing a slow whine of my hips before taming any fly aways in my hair. Doing a final spin, I made sure Bash was well fed before securing my heels and purse before making my way downstairs to my awaiting Uber. Arriving to the club, I thanked my driver before hopping out and making my way up to the line. Standing and waiting, I texted Terry to let him know I had arrived before feeling a tap on my shoulder. Looking up I was met with a security guard. "Anaya?" "Ummmm, Yes." "Follow me." Smiling shyly as he opened the belt to let me out of line, I followed behind as the crowd groaned with having to wait. Walking inside the loud club, I got a bit of hype as the vibes and music engulfed me. Bodies collided hungrily on the dance floor while sections were lined with the cream of the crop.

Walking me over to a section, I spotted him amongst a group of guys looking as good as our first meeting. He looked so good, I could just take a bite out of him where he stood. Getting caught so deep in my thoughts, I hadn't noticed him walking over and standing in front of me until he snapped his fingers in my ear. "Huh?" "I was saying you finally made it. Damn, Mama, I know I'm handsome but I ain't know you would get lost in the sauce." He gloated laughing as I shot a sarcastic smirk at him. "Boy! You are not all that." "Shiiiit, I can be whatever you want me to be, baby." He breathed against my ear as he snaked his hand around my back to touch my waist. Feeling slightly flush in his hold, I cleared my throat before meeting his eyes as he bit his lip. "Ayeee, Tee! You not gone introduce us?" One of his friends questioned breaking us from our staring match. "My fault my fault. Y'all this is Anaya. Anaya, this is my cousin Mike and my homeboys, Brandon, Eric, Ace, and my homegirls Bree, Leah, and Asha." Introducing myself with a wave, I received a round of friendly hey's from the guys before feeling ravenous daggers coming from the girls as I noticed Bree staring down Terry. Internally rolling my eyes, I shrugged off their evil looks before gently smiling as Terry wrapped his hand around my waist.

Terry

Tonight was supposed to be a chill ass night with the guys, enjoying a few drinks, and getting to know Anaya better, but this shit been anything but. Ace bitch ass would invite Bree and her girls on some funny shit and their messy asses would convince her to come out. I don't even know why the hell she's so pressed anyway; we hooked up twice a few years ago and she decided we'd be better off staying friends. She's had boyfriends and all types of shit but the one time I bring a girl around that I care for, it's a problem. They been being so shady and rude to Naya all night and she hasn't been nothing but nice to em.

Watching her start twirling her hips in the section as the next song came on, I decided to get up and make my move. "C'mere." "What?" "Dance with me." I husked in her ear as the music blasted. Looking up at me and shyly nodding, I took her hand and lead her through the crowd to the dance floor. Pulling her up close to me, the beat vibrated through our bodies as she wound her waist against me and bit her lip. Bending forward, she twerked as the crowd got hype cheering her on. Holding onto her backside, I caught the rhythm as my homeboys held me up so she could take me for a ride. Hearing the DJ transition to the next song, she rose up and giggled as I smiled whipping her around to face me. "So you can dance, huh?" "Something like that. I see you can catch a lil rhythm too." "Something like that." I smiled pulling her closer and rubbing her body as we got carried away in the beat.

Feeling her fall forward, she turned around and eyed Leah as she sipped her drink. "Oh my gosh, girl. I am so sorry!" She muttered sarcastically as I mugged her. Waving her off, I turned Anaya back to me and whispered against her neck. "Ignore her." I commanded as I tilted her chin up to look at me. The electricity between us was crazy right now. I could almost feel it crackling off her lips. Leaning in to seize the moment, we were once again being bumped. "Yo what the fuck?!" "Really, Terry?! This how the fuck you gone do me after everything we shared?" Bree spat in anguish as her girls nodded in fake support. "Yo, Bree, back the fuck up away from me, aight? You tripping!" "No nigga, you tripping! I can't believe you throwing away what we have for this bitch!" "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU CALLING A BITCH, TRICK?!" Anaya seethed mushing Bree in the forehead as I stepped in to break them up. "What the fuck is your issue, bruh? We never had shit, never fucking will." "Oh really? So why were you in my fucking bed last night if we don't have shit?! Huh?" She spat flashing a devious smirk as Anaya threw her hands up and stormed off. "Anaya wait!" "No! Clearly you got your hands full already, I knew this shit was too good to be true." She murmured on the verge of tears as she snatched away from me and headed to the bar.

Anaya

Having a seat at the bar, I rolled my eyes and rubbed my temples as I waved for the bartender. Struggling to get his attention, I continued waving my hand before feeling a hand on my waist. "No need, lil mama, allow me. Aye, my man!" This guy said quickly getting the bartender over. "For the lady?" "Can I get two shots of tequila?" "I'll get the same and lemme get a whiskey sour." "Coming right up!" "Thank you." "No problem at all. I'm Rome, by the way." "Anaya." "That's a beautiful name, miss Anaya." He flashed his gleaming smile before kissing my hand gently. Blushing uncontrollably, I took one of my shots and took in his features. "Anaya, can we talk?" Terry said in a huff as he came up to me interrupting our moment. "We don't have anything to talk about Terry." "I'm serious, Anaya. I'm sorry for what happened back there with Bree. We had a very short lived fling a few years ago and that's all. I promise to you I haven't laid a finger on that girl since. I swear to God, Anaya. Please?" He pleaded staring me down with those eyes. Those goddamn eyes! "Terry, it is what it is. Go be happy with her. I don't wanna talk about this anymore." "But Anay-" "Umm, I believe she said the conversation is over with, my man." "My nigga, I'm not talking to you." "From the looks of it, neither is she." Rome interjected stepping between us as I looked on in shock. Not gonna lie it kinda turned me on...

Feeling Terry's glare burning into my soul, I swallowed the lump in my throat before looking up at him. Seeing the anger slowly brewing inside him, I knew he meant business and while I didn't know what either man was capable of, I could quickly tell that Terry wasn't with the games. "I-It's ok, Rome. I got this." I said touching his strong shoulder as I stood and took my last shot. "You sure you okay?" "Yes. Thank you so much for the drinks." I smiled gently before encasing him in a side hug. "No problem at all, lil mama. I'll see you around?" "Sure thing, let me get your number." Taking down his digits as Terry's foot twitched in agitation as I said my farewell. "If you need anything at all, give me a call." Rome whispered against my neck as I nodded. "Thank you again." I said before leaving in a rush as Terry pushed through the club to the exit.

"Can you slow the fuck down? Fuck!" I spat removing my heels so I wouldn't fall as he trekked quickly to his truck. "Hush, Anaya! Gone sit there and take that nigga number down in my fucking face. Out yo fucking mind." He ranted as I tensed at the harshness of his voice. "Get in the car." "Terry, where are you taking me." "Get the fuck in the mothafucking car, Anaya." Silently getting in, he slammed my door before getting in his side and locking the doors. What the fuck did I get myself into?

Tags: @violetmuses @kaylaahisthebestest- @theereina @believeinthefireflies95 @brisunique @madxlov3 @casualsludgeshoetoad @mauvecherie-writes @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @kumkaniudaku @geneziesm @megamindsecretlair @simpledopeme @goldenjasssy @vivaalenaa @playgurlxoxo @ghettogirly @luuvprincess @perfectlyimperfectme @tbmotw @comfortzonequeen @melanin-honeyy @strawberrymoon45 @luckygirlszn @kindofaintrovert @secretlifeoofmarpessa @cmbmjbfan @summwerella @qdancer22 @ihateyallniggas @rebelrel0987 @cheracherachera @bhristpher @cocooned-butterfly @ovohanna24 @theblessedcap @deijalee @ranikyani @catha2003 @magik22 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @pinkbuzzlightyrrr @justicefordeanthomas @liv10002 @kalideshawnwrites @j0joworld @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @ladynotdiana @mymindisneverhere @brattyfics

It's so many more of y'all I can tag but my hands are cramping. I love you guys SOOOOOOO MUCH!!!! TYSM FOR THE CONTINUED LOVE AND SUPPORT! IT MEANS SO MUCH TO ME YOU HAVE NO CLUE!!!

[keeps-ache]

every now and then something in my brain turns on and oh hello information i didn't know i had stored! where've you been !

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Bro 😭 I'm gonna implode. I just finished Dawn of X vol3 and Erik's FACE at Charles' return-

He looks like he's gonna bawl his eyes out. You KNOW he just clung to Charles when they got back to Krakoa, all the while Charles petted his hair and told him "I'm alright, I'm here."

bro i justtttt KNOW erik was trying so hard to be nonchalant about charles coming back but the second charles touches his arm or something innocuous like that hes gonna crumble

[love-everlasting]

Whoever decided to start riding my bus when it used to just be me and the driver im actually going to kill it with my mind

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 17

“DYWTYLM” by Sleep Token

[skitskatdacat63]

I feel like at least several times a month, I have a random insane revitalization of my love for The Smiths. Not that I ever stop loving them, but I'll listen to some song and then suddenly fall into this pit of just deep, intense love for their music again where I can't stop listening to their music on repeat and watching live performances and looking at pics like AAAAAHHHHHH WHY IS THEIR MUSIC SO GOOOD?????? WHY IS IT PERFECT?????? WHY WERE THEY SO GENDER???????

(songs I am feeling intense brainrot over rn in case you're curious: "I Want The One I Can't Have(live)", "Stretch Out and Wait(live)", "You Just Haven't Earned It Yet Baby", "Some Girls Are Bigger Than Others(demo)", "What She Said", "The Boy With The Thorn in His Side(live)"(p.s. I Want The One I Can't Have is Martian-coded to me, pls listen)(also it reminds me of that movie I watched yesterday)

[jules-hoard-of-stuff]

As someone with sensory issues and autism, PLEASE DO NOT PLAY VIDEOS OUT LOUD IN PUBLIC. You have no idea how many times we prepare, ready to be fine with an acceptable amount of noise in an ALREADY noisy environment just to find the regular noise of a few people at the mall suddenly made into the noise of a fucking crowd. And not just that, but y'all playing FIGHT videos??? Or videos of couples arguing??? In fucking public??? I'm so sick of trying to go out and just do things like grocery shop or be with friends and then be interrupted by some jerk who wants to watch a marriage fall apart on tiktok.

It's rude, it's terrible, and while it's not outright ableist, it still sucks for people who have sensory issues and/or need their hearing over other senses. It sucks for people trying to have conversation. It sucks for literally everyone who isn't fucking you.

Wear. Headphones. Or I will take your kneecaps.

my unpopular opinion is that i hate tiktok because now people just publicly watch loud ass videos in public spaces with no regard for anyone else. 100% it was not this bad with youtube, it’s such a different thing with tiktok. put on headphones. you are grown.

[tim-official]

the current trend of "tumblr users embarrassing themselves by proudly announcing why they don't listen to any music made by black people" is really astounding.

i cannot help but think this is a direct result of liberal White Guilt and how people have interpreted "anti-racism" as form of cultural self-segregation - the kind of person who thinks trying to cook chicken curry is cultural appropriation, or sends white people anon hate for wearing a kimono (yes, this kind of discourse happened). like, "oh, no, i could never participate in this culture, i'd get my evil white hands all over it! it would be more Progressive if I only did White things."

if you're a poc you've seen this, i'm sure - this deer-in-the-headlights stare you can get from white people when you play music / show art / share a story / anything that is Racially Coded, this total refusal to actually engage with it out of fear that it is in some way Wrong for them to have any opinion on it. because they read somewhere that it's bad to use AAVE but the only lesson they actually learned from that is "gotcha, white people are not allowed to interact with other cultures as punishment for my White Crimes. this helps to fill up the gaping pit of my white guilt and makes me one of the Good People." this transforms their discomfort around non-white cultures (black culture, especially, i should add) into a kind of virtue

anyway if you are white and reading this. go listen to some fucking haliu mergia. ethiopian jazz. will knock your dick right off. go listen to rap or reggae or bollywood and have a genuine reaction to it - like, an actual, from-the-heart reaction. you are allowed to not like some of it. but you will definitely like at least a little. yes, you can compare it to lemon demon (or whatever) if that helps you get into it and that's your only point of reference. maybe don't say that part out loud. but don't, like, separate yourself from it, like you are seeing it in a museum and the only polite thing to do is go "ahh, huh, very interesting, so much culture here."

[gotta-bail-my-quails]

i dont like taking surveys usually but if it lets me give some scathing remarks to my shitty landlords then boy give me enough space for a fucking novel i WILL tell them to get their heads out of their asses

[sharama]

😒

[keeps-ache]

hehe. crackling