#whyyy would you even say that

[corvidaemnit]

sooo we all agree the guide is autistic and ocd and their special interest is witchcraft right

[popstart]

the moment people stop being comically against courtney is the day i stop making fun of them for being weird and wrong. stop being weird about a fictional character in ways that are hilariously stupid and ill stop calling you hilariously stupid

[caffeinatedopossum]

I suffer from feeling unloved despite being surrounded by people who love me loudly and only having been told by one person (internet stranger) that they hate me in the last 3 years

[kelpiemomma]

Someone: horses aren't born mean

Maevus:

[aakeysmash]

you and college!sukuna see each other at a party

college!sukuna masterlist

Going to the same college as college!sukuna means you inevitably see each other at a couple of parties you both attend to. It doesn’t happen that much, because you and him are both heavily set on sitting on your living room couch doing absolutely nothing the majority of the nights, and you try to ignore each other when you know you’re going to be in the same place out of the house. But when Sukuna manages to leave Yuuji at one of his classmates’ houses for a sleepover, his friends get a whiff of the news and drag him out of the apartment.

He does put up a fight about it, because Sukuna being Sukuna, he hates parties; even more if he has to pay for a ticket before entering. The rancid smell of alcohol mixed with sweat makes him want to punch someone. Not to mention girls always try to get in his pants, and while in the past that would have stroked his ego, now he finds himself annoyed by it. The chicks seem to be copies of each other: really short dresses, really long batting lashes, really dragged out alcohol induced words and he really doesn’t care about any of their tits pressed on his arm.

You, on the other hand, hate men who touch you on the dance floor. Your girls convince you to hit the club every time (“every time” probably being less than 3 times in the whole year) because they say you will have “so much fun”, but your definition of fun isn’t being groped by a guy you don’t even think attends your college to begin with.

Today you find yourself searching for the bar after the last guy who tried to squeeze your ass almost got kicked in the balls by you. You plop down on a bar stool and absentmindedly order a drink (of course there’s fruit in it), and while you wait for the barman to serve you, you take out your phone from your purse. You scroll on your socials, getting bored in 5 minutes, and while you softly tap on the counter with your freshly done nails you decide you had enough.

Message to: Worst roommate ever: is Yuuji home?

The message gets through but doesn’t get read. You roll your eyes, thinking he’s probably busy doing absolutely nothing inside the apartment. You feel so jealous.

“Come on man, you’ve been here like… two hours,” comes a male voice behind you. You don’t bother turning around, resorting to sipping your drink before swirling the straw around. “Just take someone home and relax,” the boy continues. You scrunch your nose. That’s a disgusting thing to say.

“You mean I’ve already been here two hours. I’ve had fucking enough. I’m going home. Alone,” someone responds, biting rough voice getting closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see someone slamming one of their elbows on the counter right next to you, and you scoot over away from them. You don’t want to interact with anyone unless they taste like sweet fruit and they’re called “passion fruit mojitos”.

“But whyyy,” the first guy asks, trying to reason with his apparently leaving friend.

“Because I got 10 pairs of tits shoved in my fucking face in the last 20 minutes,” the second one barks out, ordering a gin tonic when he spots the barman. Basic ass.

Suddenly, you receive a text.

Worst roommate ever: no. sleepin over at some kid’s

You sigh. You’re sure you’d have more fun if Yuuji dragged you into one of his latest hobbies. That’s it, you’re still going home, even if you’ll be bored to death either way. You turn around for a split second to leave a tip to the barman when you recognise the pink head next to you. Sukuna has his back turned to you, so he hasn’t seen you yet. You try to sneakily go away, not wanting to interrupt the conversation he’s having with a man you think you’ve seen him with on campus, when you tell yourself that if he really wants to go home you could go home together. At least you’re going to save the money you would’ve given to the uber. You touch his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey-“

“God wants this to be the day I sock a bitch to the ER,” you hear him grit out. His friend, you think he’s called Geto, winces. Then, still turned away, the tattooed man continues with “I don’t fucking care about your pussy, get the fuck out.”

You slap him on the back of his head.

“Is this the same mouth you kiss your mother with?” You exclaim, feigning shock.

“What the fuck?” He whips his head around and you see how his expression turns from an annoyed one to a confused one. He rolls his eyes.

“You know damn well my mother is dead,” he says. You see his friend’s eyes pop out of his sockets. This is not something you say to a stranger. “I almost broke your nose. Don’t play with me,” your almost-roommate says, one side of his mouth lightly raised, as if he’s actually disgusted about seeing you here, completely facing you. Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes.

“You should have. I would’ve had a reason to kick you out,” you seethe.

“Oh really? Then who would’ve opened the door for your sorry ass the next time you forget your keys?” He tells you, his face getting closer to yours, menacingly. The friend he still has next to him watches the scene in front of him with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s not my fault they’re never where I think I left them,” you mumble, frowning.

He smirks. “I should’ve known it was you when you’re the only one up here with a yellow fruity drink. Pussy,” he says, louder, to make you hear every word above the music.

“Fuck you and your basic gin tonic ass.”

He grins. “Baby, have some manners. We can’t have you dirtying your criminal record with sex in public, can we?” He says, lightly caressing your cheek with his index finger. You swat his hand away, glaring at him the meanest way you can. Meanwhile, another guy you recognise as Satoru reaches the barstool. He greets you and gives Geto a questioning look, to which the other responds mouthing “Who is this girl?”. Satoru just shakes his head, giving you a knowing look.

You get back to looking over at your roommate. “Wanna go home?” You ask him, features relaxing. You just want to go home, with or without him, and sleep until tomorrow.

He chuckles. “You’re not helping your case if you say it like that.”

You shrug. “I guess that’s a no,” you say, getting your purse and standing up, heels clicking toward the exit. When you don’t hear him follow you you turn around, and he levels you with a bored look. “Oh okay, so I guess you want the landlord to come knocking at your door tomorrow morning and say you’ll have to pay full rent since I was brutally killed by some random dude this uneventful night, all because you didn’t want to come home,” you almost scream, trying to get your words across the thumping of the bass, turning back around and resuming your walk. You already shot your friends a text saying you’ll be going back with Sukuna, anyway.

“No, wait- come on baby, don’t be like that,” he whines, rushing up his stool and following you. He waves his friends goodbye with a flick of his wrist, and you shoot them a small smile when you pass by them. You and Sukuna continue bickering while getting out of the club. He tries to grab your head and fakes bashing it against the wall, and you push him away jokingly, smiling up at his badly concealed grin. He puts one hand in his jacket’s pocket, the other one grazing your small back to keep you from bumping into random drunk guys. You don’t even seem to notice the gesture, and he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it either. Suguru and Satoru are still watching you two, albeit a little dumbfounded.

“So? Who’s the one that got big captain whining?” Asks Suguru, drinking the gin tonic Sukuna left behind. Sukuna leaving a paid drink behind? After not touching a single girl since he came this night but leaving with you three minutes into a conversation? You must be something, for sure.

“Someone he claims to be a pain in the ass,” answers Satoru, chuckling.

[mellowsadistic]

“That’s it, baby, let it all out,” I cooed. “Have a big cry. Daddy's here, little girl." I stroked my wife's hair gently while she bawled her eyes out like a two-year-old, sat on the floor of our bedroom wearing nothing but her sopping wet diaper.

She gasped in big lungfuls of air, her bare chest heaving with every shaky breath. “You… did something… to me!” she said between hiccups, batting my hand away and glaring at me accusingly. It seemed that I'd finally been found out.

"What did I do to you, sweetheart?" I asked softly.

"You... turned me... into... a cry... baby!" she sobbed, almost hyperventilating now, her words barely intelligible. "You... want me... like this!"

“That's right, darling," I said, and I saw her tear-filled eyes widen in surprise at my ready confession. "I want to be your Daddy. I want to take care of you. But you've always been so strong and independent. I knew I had to do something to change that, so I used some special hypnosis files, hidden in that night-time background music you like to listen to, to erode your emotional control. It's the same technique I used to take away your potty training.”

She looked at me in horror, but I just chuckled and reached out to stroke her tear-stained cheek lovingly with the back of my fingers. “It’s so sweet that you can’t control when you go pee-pee or poo-poo anymore." I patted the front of her soggy diaper. “And you look so pretty in your princess nappy!”

“You did this to me?” my wife whispered, so shocked that her wracking sobs had come to a halt. Her hand drifted down to the huge disposable diaper bulging between her thighs. "You made me need these?"

"Yes, baby," I said. "I thought making you incontinent would be enough, but even then you were still trying to be self-sufficient; insisting on changing your own nappies, refusing to let me comfort you after an accident. So now you're going to be emotionally incontinent as well, sweetie. No more bottling things up. No more self-control. When you get even the slightest bit upset about something, you'll be in tears."

“But whyyy?!” she wailed, her sobbing returning in full force. "Why did you... do this... to me?!"

“It’s not good for girls to hold in their feelings,” I said, running my fingers through her hair again. She seemed too appalled by what I was saying to even notice. “It’s so much cuter, so much more feminine, when you lose control and have a little meltdown instead.”

“But I don’t… want to be… like this!” she cried.

“I know, darling,” I said soothingly, “but this is how I want you. Daddy knows best. Being a tearful toddler suits you much better than being an adult woman. In any case, there's no undoing the effects of the hypnosis now, little one. I made sure it was completely permanent."

“No!” she wailed, bouncing on her wet bottom and beating her fists impotently against the floor. “It's not fair! I wanna be a grown-up! I wanna use the toilet! I don't wanna be a stupid crybaby! I don't wanna! I don't wanna!" Her words trailed off into incoherent blubbering as she devolved into a massive temper tantrum.

I couldn't help but smile. She looked so adorable! "Hush now, princess," I cooed, shoving a large pink pacifier between my wife's lips. Her mewling was cut off abruptly, and she started sucking on it at once - another product of the hypnosis files. She was left sniffling and whimpering quietly, her dummy bobbing rhythmically in her mouth. "Now I know you're very upset because Daddy turned you into a big baby," I said, pushing her back gently onto the floor, "but I'm sure a nice dry diaper will have you feeling better in no time. Legs up, baby! It's time for you to let Daddy take care of everything."

[passiveagreeable]

So the tipping is difficult to say. I think general wisdom says about 1 to 2 bucks per drink, which could be far more than 15% depending on the price of your drink, or it could be about the same. If you’re ordering really expensive or fancy things, then maybe less. So it seems to me that tipping per drink may have the bartender come out ahead. Or it may not, that completely depends on the behavior of the customer.

The transaction fee for paying with card though, that is real and a problem, and definitely one main reason for wanting one transaction.

As far as “closing out manually,” restaurants and bars and other places can have totally different register systems. Newer restaurants and especially places where you order and pay at a counter, like fast food or very casual places, tend to have vastly different systems than a typical sit down restaurant. But in my experience, all transactions were connected to one bill or one table in the computer.

When I’m in Europe, they just bring that nifty portable card reader to the table and type in whatever the quantity of the check is. The payment is not directly connected to the computer system to manages who orders what and where. Generally speaking, in my experience, that’s not possible here. So you have to close each check or table individually and independently from the rest. So that’s, to my knowledge, the meaning of “close out manually.”

I think it was mentioned before, but as far as fraud, because the standard is that they will take the card from you and bring it to the computer to charge you, the blame and responsibility for fraud are different here. If your card is stolen, well they know where it was a who probably touched it. The credit card company is going to investigate if you say there has been fraud on your account, and unless you are found to be like particularly stupid with your card or were in fact aware and/or assisting with the fraud, or you have a history of causing trouble for the credit card company, they are going to cover the fraudulent charges.

Right Americans, I need an explanation. What on Earth are these kids doing wrong? Surely this is normal?

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Drunk intimacy W/ Ateez

This is what I imagine drunk "encounters" with each member would be like, just to clarify I mean drunk and consenting not sloppy wasted, so more so tipsy lol Enjoy.

Warning: Drunk sex, Oral sex (M and F recieving), semi public fingering, cockwarming, may be other stuff lemme know!

Minors dni

Hongjoong:

You and Hongjoong would be leaving the bar from a night of hanging out and drinking with everyone, you both would get in the car and drive to a secluded spot and he would park and you both would push your seats back as far as they could go, then Hongjoong would lift the armrest. No words would be spoken, they didn't have to be said, you would both look at each other and without a word start a very intimate and sloppy make out session. You're all over him like he likes it because when you both have some liquor in your system you joke that he becomes your little slut lol. Teeth scraping, tongues in and out of each other’s mouths, eyes rolled back and lots of lip sucking and biting, the noises alone from the kissing would be considered pornographic. Hongjoong has his hand firmly planted on your ass after he lifted your skin tight dress up to your waist, one of your hands made it inside his baggy pants after you undid his belt, you started to jack him off right there in the front seat. Hongjoong was trying his best to continue kissing you but your grip on his very sensitive dick was making him dizzy, he would stop the kiss to occasionally let out a whimper or a "fuck". His red and flushed face with how needy and fucked out he look was making you crazy, you loved how submissive and horny he got, you decided it was time to make him feel even better. You and him worked together to shimmy his pants down enough for his red and throbbing cock to spring out, you loved teasing and edging him when he was like this, you reached down still pumping his shaft, you stuck your tongue out to make circles on his tip.

"Fuuuck Y/N" Hongjoong said dropping his head onto the headrest, his hand still gripping your ass.

You kissed his tip a few times, "I know it feels so good doesn't it baby?" you said wanting to tease him, your mouth dove down his shaft, bobbing your head up and down, Hongjoong bit his bottom lip as he hissed, his whimpering of pleasure was music to your ears.

"So fuckin' good baby, 'o good." He managed to say between his moaning, your tongue and mouth never stopped, sucking harder while your saliva traveled down his dick and covering his balls, it was a bit sloppy, but he loved it. His hand occasionally leaving your ass to land smacks on it to tell you you were doing a good job.

"Baby, baby I'm g-gonna cum." He stuttered out.

You started to suck him off faster, making sure to make his dick hit the back of your throat, you held him deep in your mouth while his cum shot into your mouth, loud profanities dropped from his lips while he moaned loudly, fuck you loved when he was vocal. You didn't waste a drop and swallowed his entire load making sure to look into his eyes.

"Fuck baby I love you so much." Hongjoong said, you came up not even being able to wipe your mouth before Hongjoong pressed his lips to yours, sloppy kisses being exchanged once again.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out when we get home." He said smiling on your lips and looking into your eyes

You pecked his lips again and looked back at him. "I told you you couldn't handle that last shot."

Seonghwa:

"H-ey we aren't go-gonna make it s-sorry." You said barely being able to get out your sentence while you were on the phone with your friend canceling your group couples hangout.

"Aww whyyy? Hongjoong is going to be pissed he isn't going to have his uno partner Seonghwa here." Hongjoongs girlfriend said over the phone.

"I knoo~ we pregramed tooo~ hard and Hwa is out of it." you said immediately snatching the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker to finish the conversation. Hongjoongs girlfriend went on about all the things they had planned tonight but you couldn't focus anymore. Seonghwa was the reason for that, he had his back against the arm of the couch and his long legs across the couch with you on top of him, your back against his chest, he had both your breast pulled out of your tube top with one of his hands tweaking your nipples. His other hand was busy slowly playing with your clit, he knows you want him to go faster, he knows it you wanted nothing more but for him to fuck you but he told you it wasn't a good idea to have those drinks before going out, he told you it would just make you both horny but you didn't care. You thought you could just tease Seonghwa all night for being drunk and horny, but he wasn't letting that happen. He left trails of wet kisses and licks from his long tongue on your neck while you tried fighting off your moans, only letting breathy small ones escape.

"Anyways Y/N girl these guys are driving me crazy I would have loved for you to be here to! You sure you can't at least come?" She said obviously pouting. Seonghwa drug his tongue up to your ear.

"Mm gonna leave me baby? Gonna leave me after making me all hot and bothered?" he said rubbing your clit faster.

"Ooouuu FUCK- oh my g- fuck no, I'm sorry girl I can't he's already making a mess right now." You said still trying to keep a clear mind, you had to bite both your lips.

" 'sure am, making a mess of this wet little pussy." He said in your ear, he put one of his slick covered fingers into your cunt, you gripped his pant leg and threw your head back while you whined between your closed lips. You needed and wanted more but he wanted to edge and tease you, he would leave open mouth kisses on your cheek until he made his way to your mouth to give you a wet french kiss, you could taste the juice and alcohol on his tongue, sweet and bitter citrus, he took the breath out of your lungs, your ears ringing from pleasure, no longer able to even hear your conversation, he removed his hand from your chest and gripped your face so you two could look at each other.

"Hang up and bend over."

Yunho:

One too many bottles of Soju and all Yunho wants to do is eat you out. You both were just casually drinking and one think led to another and next thing you know your shorts and panties were off, you were sitting in the cute recliner you bought for the bed room, your legs were being pinned up but Yunhos large hands and he was face planted in your cunt. It had been an hour or so, at least you assume it has, you were drunk and on the way to your 3rd orgasm, Yunho just wouldn't let up. He just loved the feeling of eating you out, but it was something so satisfying to do it while you both had some drinks. He loved your dramatic gasping and jolts, the way your pussy got wetter and how hard you would grip his hair while you begged and spasmed. He couldn't only use his tongue, no he had to put his entire face in it, he wasn't a man that was afraid to get his face covered in the line of duty, he wanted you to drench him. He loved to sweet taste of your cunt as well, since you were drunk you were more sensitive, and it was easy to make you really wet. He would occasionally glance up at you to see your eyes rolled back and your mouth wide open, hearing you yell his name or say things like "fuck Yunho, I can't take it." just encouraged him to fuck you with his mouth more. He knew to make you extra crazy he would put on of your legs on the arm of the chair or let you hold it up while he fucked two of his long finger into you while he sucked your clit like a lollipop. You would gasp for him to stop while your thighs would try to close and you try pushing his head away but he's stronger than you, he wouldn't let you run, you had to sit there and fucking take it. You would covered his face in your slick once again, you were out of breath and fucked out, he would get up and go to the bathroom to wash his face and come back with the warmest smile.

"Well now that I've ate you wanna order some food?"

Yeosang:

Everyone was at Hongjoong, Jongho and Wooyoungs apartment, drinking eating, playing games and now singing drunk karaoke, everyone was either passed out or singing. You and Yeo on the other hand, well you two were sitting at the table watching everyone while he plunged his two fingers deep into your wet pussy, it was something about all the liquor in your system that made you want your boyfriend more and more. He originally was sitting at the table alone but as the night progressed and you got drunker you started to watch his arms flexing in his in short sleeve and it was something so sexy about how well he could handle his liquor. You got up to sit next to him nuzzling nice and close, then the closer you would get the more you smelled his cologne and watching his face and just the sight of him was enough to make your leg bounce to create some kind of friction to help soothe the burning between your legs, you hug his arm while you tried to calm yourself but breathy noises escaped your lips.

"You okay Y/N?" he would ask

"Need you...so bad Yeo." would be the only thing you could say, he understood what needed to be done, when you're this needy you needed immediate attention, so he got to work.

Now here you were with his fingers nice and deep in you, he would make the "Come here" motion so he could hit your spot occasionally, he didn't want you to get to loud but luckily the music and over all commotion drowned out your whimpering. It was a horrible time to do this but the thought of everyone seeing you so fucked out and needy for him kind of turned him on, so he has no problem helping his baby out. Though he himself isn't a lightweight when it came to drinking since he mastered the skill of not acting drunk while drunk, he couldn't deny that drinking did make him a bit hornier, especially after losing all those games and having to take straight shots with no chaser. You squeezed his arm tighter, closed your eyes and bit your lip, all signs that you were close to your high, Yeosang sped up his pace, it was dangerous since the table shook but honestly, he only cared about making you cum for him. You saw stars as you finished on his two digits, he pulled them from your jeans and into his mouth so he could taste your slick, you dropped your head on his shoulders and rolled your eyes back while the group called you and Yeosang up to pick the next song.

San:

Poor Sannie just can't handle his liquor, you two get home from hanging out and San would just strip naked and get under the covers then whine until you finally came in the bed room to shut the lights off and get in bed with him.

"Mmm baby, too hot, no clothes." San groaned while tugging at your clothes, you rolled your eyes and took off your pajamas to accommodate San. He cuddled you closely, nuzzling his face into your neck and squeezing your waist, though you wanted to go to sleep you couldn't help but feel something on your ass.

"Sannie... are you?"

"Just ignore it baby." he said, but with Sans length how could you possibly ignore something like that pressing into you.

"Do you want to have sex baby?" You asked, it's not like you could sleep, it felt like you were laying on water since you were still pretty tipsy.

"Don't feel like it." He mumbled out.

"Wanna cockwarm then?" you asked, trying to help him relieve his throbbing dick.

"...only if you don't mind." He said, he didn't want you to feel pressured, you nodded your head to give him the approval, he lined himself up with your entrance and was able to easily slide in since you were still wet from when he pulled you to the bathroom to fuck you while you were out. "Fuck baby you're so tight you feel so good." he said squeezing you tighter, he couldn't help but roll his hips a few times just to enjoy your heat.

"Does that feel better Sannie, you just wanted me to hold your dick baby." you said reaching back to scratch his scalp.

"You're too good to me baby." He said, he kissed your lips a few times then snuggled back into you, you two eventually drifted off to sleep just for him to wake up early that morning to fuck you senseless.

Mingi:

He decided to come home to your apartment instead of going home because he didn't want anyone seeing how affectionate he is when he is drunk, just a big cuddly baby. He would hold you while you're unlocking the door and kiss you when you're changing then when he can't take it anymore, he would pull you into his lap while he is seated on the bed. He wouldn't even change your clothes he would just pull your sleeping shorts to the side and take out his length while you two were kissing and ease you down his dick. Drunk sex with Mingi is nice and slow and sensual, it's not about cumming it's about feeling you wrapped around him, it's about him touching every inch of your body with his hands and lips, Mingi is a drunk love maker. You would rock slowly on his length while cupping his face and continuing to make out, his large hands wrapped around your waist squeezing you tightly so you couldn't move or run.

"I love you so much baby." he would whisper between kisses.

"I love you more Mingi." you would say back, giving him reassurance that you feel loved, and you love him just as much, he is a Leo, so he needs it.

His phone would ring, calls from the guys to make sure you two made it home safely, every time you advised him to answer he would say "You're the only person I care about right now." While he continued to roll his hips deeper into you.

After a while of slow sex, you were about to cum, and he notices that, he rubbed your back and kissed you deeply while you cover his cock in your juices. He knows you get sleepy so he stops and cleans you both up then puts you both to bed, you would tell him to keep going so he could cum to but again he wasn't doing it for a release he just wants to feel you.

Wooyoung:

As soon as you walk through the door together he is trying to bend you over and fuck your brains out, you were in the middle of taking your shoes off (literally one is off one is on) and he is pressing you against the wall lifting up your skirt while kissing your neck.

"Wait Woo we should mm" he cuts you off by kissing you, you wouldn't even be able to talk in complete sentences. "We should-" kiss "at least go t-" kiss "to the be-" kiss "the bed Woo let's" kiss.

"I need to fuck you right now, right here, this has been on my mind all night." would be the last thing he says before he gets on one knee to eat you out from the back, your hand reaching back to grip his black hair while your eyes roll back and your mouth is gasping.

"Oh, my fucking god it feels amazing Woo fuck!" When you and Wooyoung get drunk the dirty talk is amazing, it's truly part of the experience.

"Such a dirty little mouth for a dirty little slut, watch your fucking mouth." He says before striking your ass.

"Ow! Fuck you!" you say before he strikes you again then rises from eating you out.

"Oh, fuck me ?" He says while yanking you to face him and pressing you against the wall.

"Yes, fuck you!" you argue back while he pulls your skirt down and lifts your leg to hold it at his waist, his member already pulled out since he was jerking off while eating you out.

"Oh really?" he got closer to your face, your lips seconds from connecting.

"Yes really."

"Say it again." He says as he sinks himself into your pussy, you bit your lips while your head drops back on the wall.

"Nghh fuck!" You say, he starts to fuck you faster, pulling your leg so he can hit nice and deep in you.

"That's not what you said, say what you said again baby." Wooyoung would say to taunt you, he knew you were too fucked out to even think, liquor makes him a horny little meanie. He would sit there and fuck you in the doorway then when he finished he would have you suck his dick in the hall way to "Clean up the mess you made on his cock", then he would fuck you again on the bed to "make sure you dream of him."

Jongho:

He is like a well-oiled machine, both just came back from a company dinner and all he wants to do is keep fucking you and fucking you and fucking you. His hips never stop pounding into you and when you would slump over he would laugh at you with that toothy smile and say "Aww are you really tired already, did I go too far?" he tried to make it seem like he was being genuine and checking on you but you knew he wasn't, he was mocking you and you were a prideful drunk so you two would be going until one of you tapped out.

He would drill you from the back in collapsed doggy because your legs just couldn't hold you anymore, the loud clapping noises filling the room while his hands tightly gripped your hips so you couldn't run, you had to take his thrust full on. You could barely even think anymore, your swollen pussy and fucked out brain was no match for Jongho. Usually, his libido isn't that high, and sex was good but after cumming twice he would be tapped but when he is drunk all bets are off, he has the stamina of a race horse and fucked like one too. He would love just watching you try your best to keep up with him, he got a good laugh out of how surprised you would get every time. He knew your body would be tired so he used his strength to flip, bend and twist you in any way he wanted, you became his little fuck toy and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't the sexiest thing in the world, though he would be demolishing your pussy he always checked on you and made sure you drank water throughout the process, you're favorite part was the praise he gives you for not tapping out.

"My good little baby, taking me so well, aren't you?" he would ask, your invisible dog tail would wag while you arched your back to take more of him. Though you wouldn't tap out he knew not to push you too much and you eventually clean you both up and cuddle into bed while you talked shit.

"See I told you you would tap first!" you would taunt.

"Mhm you sure did, I can't keep up with you Y/N" he would patronize you.

"Nope! Now to enjoy my victory cuddles and sleep."

He cuddles into you and kisses your forehead. "Good night, Y/N"

[phas3d]

Slytherin boys as gamer bfs and what games they would play with their significant other?

Gamers >:) | Slytherin Boys

type :: fluff

tw/cw :: cock fighting, animal cruelty, gambling, threats (these are all for fucking tom bc ofc it is...) - suicide joke (mattheo)

contains :: draco, tom. mattheo, theodore, lorenzo

notes :: im ngl idk half of these games in depth - i just heard and seen the sterotypes of these games - fps = first person shooter, dbh = detroit become human, abg = asian baby girl, bow = breathe of the wild ||

DRACO MALFOY sims 4 / roblox

This man sucks ass at gaming, he literally can't do it

His aim is shit, he screams when he's in a fight, and he rage quits the second he loses

So he has to stick to girly games

He has so many mods and cc for sims that it's insane

His pc runs like it's on life support because of this, pls save that poor computer

And he likes playing roblox too sometimes

But he doesn't even play the normal games

Bro plays Dress To Impress and Maple Hospital...

Like what the fuck are you doing there??? Go on BloxFruits or smth man

What's even worse is he eats EVERYONEEE up in Dress to Impress, he literally always top 3

And when he isn't top 3, he curses and swears but it doesn't go through cause tags

He literally cannot do obbys either oh my fucking god

You know that one meme of Sadness from Inside Out dropping her popcorn and someone quote-tweets it saying, "Damn she can't do anything"

That's exactly who Draco is when it comes to gaming

TOM RIDDLE dark web gambling / elden ring

Oh my fucking God this guy can't have a normal hobby ever

He doesn't game at all,,, literally just gambling bruh

He hosts illegal gambling rings online and even host some in the school basement

One time he even hosted an illegal cock ring fight...

Yes,,, he stole the chickens from Hagrid and made them fight....

He even used magic to give them powers like pokemon....

He made a fucking WATER chicken and FIRE chicken fight

Thank god he didn't actually let them kill each other, he just did it until one was near death

But back to gambling - he also manipulates people in so many ways

He casts a spell that silently chants "go all in, go all in" so it subconsciously makes people bet more

Bro even gets some students in DEBT!?!?! Like how tf did you do that and WHYYY would you do that

If someone doesn't come down to the basement in a while to gamble,,, then Tom will fix that

Besides illegal gamlbing...

He plays Elden Ring, which is pretty normal

Besides the fact that he BEAT THAT SHIT IN LIKE 2 DAYS?!!??!!?

Normally streamers, pro gamers, they all take weeks and sometimes even months just to make progress

But Tom is just,,, just better ig?

So yeah... He sticks to gambling cause every other game is just too easy for him

MATTHEO RIDDLE gta V / fortnite / rocket league / nba 2k24

God this guy is the worst sterotypical middle school boy ever

He even had the ugly ass big blue headset with the shit mic on it

Plays GTA V every now and then, only when he's angry

That's when he goes around town and just beats the shit out of everyone

Likes playing Fortnite for hours on end with his friends, mostly Theo and Lorenzo cause they can actually keep up with him (Draco is ass at FPS and

Plays rocket league and NBA 2k24 because of fucking course he does - look at him....

He's just a boy....

A really toxic one.....

Definitely screams "KILL YOURSELFFFFF!!!!!!" if he loses and honestly he's kinda real for that

THEODORE NOTT god of war / detroit become human

Loves games that have a long story

It's a good mix of story and fighting, he can't really get into pure FPS games

Have done most routes in DBH and even found easter eggs and hacks

Tries to get you into the lore as well but sometimes it goes so deep you get confused

"NO!!! Connor in route 8 is actually a pretty neutral guy and he's-"

Like bro what??? Why do you know everything about this "Connor" guy??? smh

He dabbles in some FPS sometimes, like playing Fortnite with Matt and Enzo

And he actually REALLY good

Has great aim and precision

But he just can't get into it for some reason, it's not his type

LORENZO BERKSHIRE valorant / zelda breath of the wild

I feel like Enzo playing Valorant makes so so sooo much sense

He's not AS toxic as the other guys, but he's still weird and fuck-boy-ish in his own way

Definitely plays with e-girls and tries to bag an ABG

But he gets catfished....

He's pretty good at Valorant, surprisingly

His mic stays on for every single game... Even if no one else is talking

This man will talk to a fucking wall and still be yapping

"Okay guys way I need to pee" ...

There's only bots in his server.........

He also loves RPG games and stuff like that

So BOW is perfect for him to shut off his mind and just roam and do useless tasks

[bluemusickid]

Private Chef! Joel thots

ok so I've had this idea lingering for a while now, and the SAG outfit has just FUELLEDDD more of my thots!!!

Side note: (He has never looked sexier, how dare he age this well; how am I supposed to go on with my life; this is absolutely not fair)

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!plus size! reader

Warnings: smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller, 18+ only, minors DNI

Sharing a smallish drabble/thotty abstract, if you will:

Ok, so maybe Joel has joined your family as your private chef. After all, your parents are SUPER rich, so they might as well look and feel the part.

You had to admit, he was worth every penny your mother was paying him. Not to mention he was easy going on the eyes, which made your mother glad; she would parade him around her lavish parties to the "cougars"/bored rich housewives, something which made your eyes roll.

Little did they know that the ever so charming Joel was a FREAK with a capital "F" in the sack.

You honestly don't even remember how it happened. A few conversations here and there, he had offered to teach you how to cook and bake; and those lessons were often plagued by thoughts of him bending you over and having his way with you, leaving you throbbing and wanting. If you didn't know any better, you could tell that it was affecting him too. His voice got huskier, eyes darkening every time he looked your way. It was a game of chicken, almost, how long either of you could keep the distance before the inevitable damn bursting.

You had once gone to "ask" him "a cooking doubt", and saw quite a sight indeed. Gone was the prim and proper Joel, with his neatly ironed and clean apron and immaculate dress shirts. His curly hair was mussed up, his shirt slightly untucked and his top buttons undone; he seemed to be engrossed in a video, hie eyebrows scrunched together as his fingers kneaded some dough, prepping for tomorrow's party. It was honestly like porn, the way his strong arms kneaded the dough, his thick fingers making you nearly drool. It took all your strength to walk away from there before you embarrassed yourself and begged him to throw you to the ground and pound you into the ground, no matter how desperate that sounded.

And it had happened finally. Another one of your parents' shindigs, and you found yourself bored out of your mind, only half listening to one of your mom's friend's son, whose one semester in London had "like, totally changed his life." Excusing yourself, you made your way to the kitchen, topping off your drink.

You saw him there, again, making small talk with Angela, one of your mom's friends who just wouldn't take a hint. You'd never seen Joel this tense and yet Angela seemed oblivious, throwing herself at him, her screeching laugh loud enough to wake the dead.

You took pity on the man and made up an excuse on his behalf, beckoning him to join you, picking up a few wedges of limes on the way, an idea forming in your mind. He bid Angela goodbye, hurriedly following you before she engaged any further.

"...Whyyy are we going to your room?" He asked bewildered, hesistant as he stood at the threshold.

You shrugged, "figured you could use a proper drink, not the shit downstairs." Taking out two shotglasses, you handed him a rather large shot of Hendricks, your drink of choice to get "classy-drunk".

You toast, downing the smooth liquid as it left a slight burn. Wincing, you pour another, his eyes widening at the pour.

"I'm technically on duty."

"And i'm technically meant to like all the guys my mom has shown me, but life doesn't work that way, does it?" You quipped, clearly goading him.

One shot turned to two. Two to four. The party was long forgotten, the both of you pleasantly tipsy and unguarded. For the first time, it felt like Joel was opening up to you.

"If I didn't know any better, i'd say you were planning on getting me drunk, sweetheart." He drawled.

You smirked. Making your way towards him, you poured another shot, promising him it that it was the last one, and that he could go back to his job. He chuckled, knowing that he would a tough time walking to the kitchen, let alone serving the guests. Lucky that the crew took over for the rest of the night, huh?

Wincing, Joel blindly searched for the wedge of lime to soothe the burn. Opening his eyes, he saw your cheeky grin as you held the lime between your lips, challenging him to take the next step.

He nearly growled as he shuffled closer, your faces mere inches from one another. His fingers ghosted over your lips as he inched closer, his lips tasting the juice of the lime. Plucking the wedge from your lips, his mouth was on yours, urging you to open up for him. You groaned, tasting the citrusy hints of the gin along with the slight tang of the lime, your tongues weaving an intricate dance.

While the party downstairs was loud and had taken a rather raucous turn, up in your room, the only noise you could hear was the sound of harsh grunts and panting breaths.

When your mom had first hired Joel, you didn't understand exactly why she did so, because the chef you'd had earlier was perfectly fine. Now, you couldn't thank her enough for hiring him.

Joel had you pinned to your bedroom door, as he ate you out enthusiastically. Pulling your thigh on his shoulder, he doubled down on his efforts to get you to come undone. Running your fingers through his beautiful curls, you tugged on them as his wonderful tongue worked its magic on your swollen nub. He hummed, circling his finger around your center, urging you on.

Pulling your other leg on his shoulder, he moved to pick you up. You were uncertain about this, but he was insistant, picking you up like you weighed nothing at all. He didn't stop his ministrations as he dropped you on her bed, continuing his amorous assault.

This display of strength had you clenching and reaching your end in no time, as you moaned loudly, yanking on his curls to ground yourself.

"Oh baby, keep doing that, don't stop." He moaned, as he made his way up your body, leaving small kisses and nips along your thighs, your belly. He reached your breasts, taking a swollen nub in his mouth and sucking enthusiastically.

Looking down, you saw one of the most erotic sights ever. Joel worshipping you, his curls a wild mess, his pristine white shirt damp with your release and with a few buttons undone, coming untucked out of his tight black pants.

You groaned. You needed him so badly it practically hurt. Reaching down, you palmed him through his pants, as he thrust himself into your wandering hands.

Pulling his erect length out of his pants, you panted as you worked him over, stroking him as he moved his hips in tandem with your hands. His harsh breaths as he groaned and grunted through gritted teeth turned you on like nothing else.

"I'm close, sweetheart." He managed to blurt out, as you increased the speed of your strokes, tongue moving along his already sensitive head. He pulled his length from your grasp as he worked himself to his climax, yelling out and cursing as he came all over your breasts.

You were mildly disappointed that he held back from fucking you; hell, you were sure he was going to finally take that step and put you through the mattress.

"Joel, I need you. Please." You begged, the need to feel him fill you up dangerously high. You sounded pathetic, sure, but you were beyond caring at this point.

Joel smirked, catching his breath.

"I have to get back sweetheart. Your mom would kill me if she didn't see me in the kitchen."

You couldn't hide your frown as you watched him neaten up, running a hair through his curls. Joel leaving you high and dry was not how you saw your plan panning out. He was about to leave as he turned back, made his way to you, holding your chin between his fingers.

"But I promise you, this isn't over. Not by a long shot." He breathed against your lips, leaving a small peck as he left, leaving you weak and wanting for more.

Silently seething, you began to plot your next steps. Joel Miller wouldn't know what hit him.

Oh no i don't like it i don't think this is my best work but omg it's out there *runs and hides in a corner*

Will there be a part 2?? That's a great question. Honestly i think i could've done better so maybe i have a redemption arc as well lolol, who knows atp

[sterredem]

Obsessed

Oscar Piastri x singer!reader

Face claim Olivia Rodrigo

Warning stalking (online), not proofread, Speling mistakes

Summary y/n is obsessed with her boyfriend’s ex.

A/n We are just gonna say that Lilly’s account is public… so that everything makes sense.

Also this may be more of a Lilly x reader the an Oscar one… it’s also a bit short… and this is probably the only fic you’ll get in a bit

Instagram

120.124 likes

F1.Gossip BREAKING NEWS: Our favourite young couple, Oscar Piastri and Lilly Zneimer has reportedly broken up! After their 4 years and a bit realation the couple found out that they where better of as friends then being together. Many hard are broken after hearing this news, but they claim that they are still friends. We wish them both the best with their careers, and we with them the best in future relationships.

View all 2.234 comments

User1 NOOOOOOOOO😭😭😭😭

User2 I don’t believe in love anymore😭😭

User3 WHYYY?!?!💔

User4 Hearts ♥️ been. Broken 💔 Too. Many. Times ⏳😭😭

User5 MY FAVROUTE COUPLE😭😭😢

User6 Why am I so upset at a couple that I don’t even know😭😭

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Twitter

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Time skip

Twitter

|———————————<3—————————————|

Real life

Y/n knew she was crazy. It was actually sociopathic what she was doing. She was stalking her boyfriend’s ex girlfriend.

And not stalking stalking. She was not following her in real life… just on social media.

She was just going through the girls instagram photos, looking up everything about her, wanting to know everything that there is about the girl.

Beside that she was also looking at old Twitter threads, shortly after the break up was leaking by a gossip account F1 Twitter went crazy, they loved the couple. They made comments upon comments expressing their hard break at the news, they also still make post dedicated to Lilly and her achievements. And it tore the singer apart.

And she has to admit; lily is perfect.

And that was the worst ever.

Lilly was sweet, good with kids, talented, smart, funny, gorgeous and genuine. And maybe even far better than herself.

She now knew almost everything about her: her star sign, her blood type, her family, hot what school she goes to and on what class she was in. She knows that she slept on her side of Oscar’s bed (which didn’t make her feel good). And other things that Oscar had told her, with them knowing each other and being friends while they were dating and him finding comfort in her after the break up.

And she knows it was crazy; they broke up. They don’t even speak anymore! But still, every time he says her name, Y/n can’t help but think that he mistakes herself for his ex.

So she has to admit, she is jealous.

She always knew she had some kind of a problem, but this?

She thought about Lilly 24/7. If you knew how much she thought about the girl, you’d think she was in love.

And if you’d know how much she looked at her pictures, you’d think that they were best friends.

And that was the moment she realised: she was Obsessed with Lilly Zneimer, her boyfriend’s ex.

And not obsessed in a normal way, she wasn’t just jealous of the amazing girl, no.

She had a had a whole white board dedicated to her: all the things she liked, the things she did, the clothes she white (thanks to the fan accounts), the people she hangs out with, her hobby’s, her go to food places, everything.

She was really going crazy.

Not that Oscar knew, of course he didn’t. If he did he would break up with her for her sociopathic behaviour.

After realising that, she knew there were few things she could do.

So she walked through the house to her music room, she sat down, and begin writing.

She needed to stop with the obsession, and the only way for that was music.

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Instagram

Liked by LillyZneimer and 2.964.624 others

Yourusername SUPRISE! My new song ‘obsessed’ is out now! The music video will be out midnight est!!

Thank you @DanielNigro With working with me on this!

View all 264.275 comments

OscarPiastri Excuse me??

OscarPiastri Why didn’t I know?

Yourusername …suprise…?

SabrinaCarpenter AMAZING (but also…?)

GracieAbrams Another banger!!

Laufey The best song ever!

Conangray Girl, check your msg

User7 HUH??

User8 This ganre swich is INSANE! but I love the rock!

User9 Dare I say that this is about… Lilly

User10 Y/n in her stalking era

User11 Nit Lilly liking this😭😂

User12 The aesthetic😍

User13 Oscar didn’t know??

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Instagram

212.543 likes

Celeberty.Gossip After recent speculations that Y/n Y/l/n’ new song ‘obsessed’ is about Lilli Zneimer (Oscar Piastri’s ex girlfriend) The pair was seen hanging out and shopping together. Is the song about someone else? Is there a sudden new friendship? What is going on?

View all 3.765 comments

User1 OMG?!

User2 the line about them being best friends?

User3 Or about them being in love??

User4 I don’t know what’s going on but I love it!

User5 They look very good (together)

User6 I ship…

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No part 2… open ending!!

[sil-te-plait-tue-moi]

Got shocked.

Quick summary: Before he knows why, Rust is fixating on you.

Warnings: Not much except it does get literally sick here kind of; sexism and really gross remarks; kind of workplace harassment; Rust being unsettling.

Word count: 3.6K

A/N: Erm this is not the second part to the Idler Wheel but I just thought I’d write this because whyyy not! It was kind of written quickly so if there are weird grammar mistakes just ignore them lmao 😭😭 might come back and edit when it’s not past midnight if you know what im saying. Anyhoo it’s September now?

***

The brain-rotting contents of his colleagues’ pass-time conversations was an unfortunate byproduct of Rust’s refusal to pay mind to his own thoughts. He needed it, he thought sometimes, though he’d rather not have had need for anything: it served as a focal point for his attentions, which, otherwise, might be directed inward at himself for too long.

He didn’t pay much attention to the exacts of it all. Bar last night, dick jokes, some wild sexual exploit from their twenties: once Rust had heard it once, he did not need to hear it again. Even before they spoke, Rust had had most of them figured out. He only had to watch them, his first day at the office. Still, initially, he let them tell their shit to him and believe like maybe they could be friends, like, maybe, Rust was one of them, too, that he was entertained by their boring fucking carousel of stories. Fucking arrogant. Plagued by the crack and froth of some dry ash-type taste, Rust would swallow it down. Just the first time, though. Not the second, and not any time after that.

No, he did not care for the details. More like, it was the tone of their voices that he could plaster his resentment on. Proud, girthy, spread over too much ground, self-important. For the most part, if he had to talk to one of them, more dogs than anything else, his throat would feel too full—his mouth, too. It was what it was: force-feeding. Why anyone in their right mind would pretend to enjoy it, Rust had no idea. Everything down here displeased him, but no less so than it had in other places. Everywhere he went, Rust came with himself, though he’d tried to sever that unwelcome tie a long time ago. If he was lucky enough, some floating sensation would find him, and Rust would get to leave the conversation for some worthy train of thought. Finally, he would get to pry apart a crime scene - in his head, he did not have to use gloves: he could play it like a tape, a thousand times, a thousand different ways.

Hear them now. Rust’s lip begged to curl, which was odd. It was then, coming to terms with the sensation of his instinct, its physical demands, that he understood that something was strange about this conversation.

Slow, crawling, his eyes made their way to Marty, who had scooted his chair over to Rust’s desk. With steely eyes, he took note of how his partner’s elbow was flopped over his paperwork, how his body was sprawled open wide so unnecessarily.

Rust removed a pen wedged under Marty’s forearm. He didn’t even shift.

With the aim of cleansing his mouth of that bitter swell, he took a mouthful of cold coffee, and another, and another. When he was alone, Rust took one sugar, but, here, it wasn’t enough. Shit, it was never enough to neutralise that foul taste. Sometimes, it grew so strong that Rust would take a little longer on his smoke breaks, making his way through one, two, maybe three cigarettes. Yeah, that usually quenched it. But it was no use inside - no, he needed an open sky above him, to let all the fumes out, like smoke from a smouldering kitchen. Something about four walls and a ceiling: how many men like them had sat there, sweat there, jawed there, pissed there, before them? It just made him sick, made his head spin.

There was no need to turn to know how the rest of them were arranged. So predictable. So deeply interwoven into their psyches: the strong belief that they deserved the space that they took up, and, shit, they took up a lot. Fighting for dominance of the conversation, pushing, shoving, overlapping, each trying to mark out a platform for themselves. He wouldn’t, and it unsettled them, just as they could never comprehend anything else that wasn’t like them.

Gradual-like, Rust let his mind melt back to the specifics of the conversation, the messy, brutal abstraction of their voices condensing into words and phrases, like ink-blots soaking back up into the brushes from which they were dispelled. It didn’t take long listening for him to understand that you had drawn the interest of the hoard.

Johansson would’ve said something—if he were here. The more Rust listened—to them inching closer to what they really wanted to say, hopping around the hot topic of women and their ways on them—the fatter his tongue felt, sitting big and swollen in his mouth like it shouldn’t have been there, like he ought to have cut it out by now.

With his spectre hands, he reached into his pocket, slipped a cigarette between his lips, lit it with one flick of his lighter. That click was enough to make his mouth water, most days, although not now. Breath scraped painfully through his throat, like sandpaper.

You were distinct from them - that was a fact. When he’d been thrown into the department, he found it odd that more remarks weren’t made to your face about most things: your capability, your temperament, your looks. More often, it’d be behind your back, huddled over in the office kitchen, passed around like a note in a fuckin’ middle school classroom. He figured it was because you were smarter than them, and they knew it. At least you were only a woman, they told themselves. They couldn’t beat you up, but they could do whatever they wanted to you in their heads. They could talk about how they’d pin you down if they ever got the chance.

That last comment only happened once. At least, only once when Rust was around. He’d ended up in the captain’s office, his fingers still twitching with the way that that pulse had begged and struggled for release.

His body ached with the effort to keep himself from shaking - the tremor in his fingers would not be eased by the deep, punishing drag of smoke into his lungs, nor would the dirt clouding his brain be cleansed and sanitised by the sting, the burn of the breath he held close to him, until it hurt his chest. No, he needed the sky—but he didn’t want to leave you either.

Rust’s head swung under a bout of nausea, which hit him like the impact of falling in a dream. Briefly, he closed his eyes, taking another drag, swallowing down the husk of it. It only made it all worse.

Punch him, he thought desperately, like maybe you could be telepathic, like maybe he was as well. Who?—he didn’t know. Any of them, all of them. It was all the same.

When Marty let out a bellow of a laugh, full and selfish and fucking stupid, Rust had to look at the photograph of the dead girl in front of him again to steady himself.

Delusion did not seduce Rust. Relying on what he knew to be true, he figured that you must’ve known what you were doing. You had worn your hair down today, not in a bun as was your usual - it hadn’t taken long for Bishop, this morning, to tug on a strand of your hair, like it was just waiting to be done, like bait on a hook. If he hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve. He was inclined to simply because you dared to exist in his presence. Even then, Rust’s throat had tightened, like this. So, even though his back was defiantly turned to the hoard, Rust knew—he knew—that, when you grunted softly, it was because it had happened again. Rust closed his eyes and willed that you would hit whoever did that.

People already knew the decision they were going to make, always, in some part of their minds, so Rust didn’t see the point in attempting to console or consult anyone about anything. If it was detrimental to a case, then he would explain this to Marty, calmly point out or even correct his mistake, but, on the most part, that was the extent of his reasoning. If his partner was in a bar, flushed and loose, and flirting with the twenty-one year-old bar-keep, he wouldn’t intervene. He hadn’t. Marty dug his own grave, and Rust let him. To do otherwise would be to overestimate the sensibilities of the other and to inconvenience himself. Fuck that. People didn’t want to be changed and Rust certainly had no interest in trying to. It was a losing game, a dumb one at that. Waste of time, waste of space. Rust knew better than to take up space - he would keep what he could close to his chest; otherwise, it was dead weight that needed losing sooner rather than later.

Everyone was begging to tell, to be fucking heard. It was a naïve, selfish way to look at the world: to assume that every other human put on Earth was someone to unload onto, to purify yourself with. Rust stared hard at the twenty-four year-old woman in the photo, sprawled over her bed, that long gash down her belly, like gutting a pig. He thought of how satisfied that the killer must’ve felt, to be able to finally share his urges with someone, to get to sit, placated, with their shoulders finally light.

He looked over the coroner’s report again, despite already knowing every statement on there, trying to fill your silence—which scratched over his eyes, the front of his brain, like claws—with the lull, the truth, of the case.

They were talking to you, now.

“Let’s get you down to the bar, buck,” somebody said to you, and he was pretty sure it was Geraci, oily, slick, fat. The skin over the back of Rust’s neck, thin, had crawled.

The boys liked to call you that—buck—like you hadn’t run the same track as them, jumped the same hurdles as them. You’d transferred from Brooklyn. Same shitshow, different department. They could tell, some of them said. City girl, high up on her horse. Not really, though. Your nature threw some people off at first, he speculated - you were not cold or brash, which he sort of thought maybe you ought to be, but, somehow, decidedly kind. Not gentle. There was a difference.

You were smart, and this was why you were not choking Geraci out right now. Did you want to? Rust could not get it out of his mind. He wanted to turn and look at you—not now, just some time—and figure it out. He had an outline, like the edge pieces of a puzzle all joined up. That was always a good start. Still, he didn’t appreciate it: the effort. It made you interesting, which was inconvenient. The people who worked here were not difficult to understand - their innermost desires were eager to be released, Pandora’s box, bursting at the very seams of their mouths, and, shit, Rust let it happen. It played out that way most times with the monsters he sat across from in the box: he would listen unflinchingly, and that was attractive to a lot of people, apparently. Someone who would not shy away. Maybe that was where Rust was misstepping with you. It wasn’t like him to be glad for things, but he was when it came to the orientation of your desks: your back was to his, and he did not have to look at you, and he was glad for it. He could not pin down why.

His knuckles were glowing, he was sure of it: if he looked down at them, Rust could’ve seen that illumination, his violence emanating from within, daring to break the skin like splitting, old leather. He could smell the embers already. Maybe that was you, though, or something else.

The heat bubbled up through his nausea. No, it was him - he would be up in flames soon, some sight to behold. His eyes pulsed against the thin skin of his eyelids, so he ruled out the option of closing them.

He flexed his hands slowly, passing feeling all along his weary tendons, before he continued typing, though the letters spun and jumped out at him like bugs in long-grass. Crickets in his ears, deafening. Was almost like he could understand them, some language he knew to respond to as a child, now long left behind. He was not alone, as much as he wanted to be.

When you spoke, Rust’s shoulders tensed, like a cramp. “I got business tonight,” you drawled, ever-polite, even sweet. That raw, thick, sugary taste oozed over his tongue, clogged his throat - Rust almost gagged.

Bishop’s voice emerged from the clatter: “What business you got on a Friday night? You got better plans?”

Fuck if you did, fuck if you didn’t.

A shrill whine speared through Rust’s head then, like a fissure in the Earth’s crust, his brain a liquid, churning beneath. He fought the urge to touch his own face, make sure everything was in its right place. He knew it would be, so he didn’t move. Sensation did not indicate reality. If it did, then Rust would have had to have discovered a whole other world a long time ago. He sat still, a statue, for several heartbeats. Then, he resumed his typing. A suspect’s alibi. He did not kill her.

“You don’t gotta spend a dime with us. We’ll take care of ye,” Howard added, and the hoard hummed and chuckled their agreement, a sick tilt to all of it. Rust wished his desk were anywhere else - he rarely wished for anything.

Conviction was not an area in which you lacked. You were a quiet, formidable force. Nobody at the precinct admired the way you worked the way it ought to have been. Not enough people gave enough fucks when you conducted interviews. Once, he had seen it. He had wanted to find Marty, and Marty was with Johansson, and Johansson had been on one side of the mirror, the other side behind which you were smiling warmly at a woman who had not long ago eaten about two thirds of her boyfriend, holding her hand. She had been twice your age at least, but you were the two-headed mother there, walking that fine line. For a moment, Rust had thought to himself that you would’ve worked him, wrung him out, if he was the one across from you. Not just a thought: a realisation. It unsettled him whenever he thought about it too long. What had confused him was your distinct lack of calculation. At least, he perceived it that way. Was it instinct that let you master that certain slope of your shoulders? No amount of practice could let him fabricate it to the same standard. Or maybe you had really felt it: sympathy.

But no. Once it was done, you’d exited, and your attention was searing. Rust had left before you had time to notice him.

Stoicism: you had mastered it, and Rust itched to know you, to understand how. How was the vein in your neck not throbbing like it would burst? How were your hands not fists, white-knuckled?

And you spoke through a smile, of all things: “That’s nice, but I can’t.”

“C’mon, buck, what kinda business you got that’s so important?”

Once again, Rust scoured over the coroner’s report, flit between the list of observable marks and wounds, correlating them with the visual aid of the photograph of the entire corpse. Total ten lacerations, eight of which had been on her stomach. Other two, on her face: slicing into each of her cheeks, those soft parts.

If he did this, Rust did not have to read into your answer, which was what his mind immediately raced towards, a bullet train, blindly searching in the darkness for some semblance of you. “My own,” you replied, and it did not mean anything to him because he was doing this.

Rust body itched to leap up and lay someone out, right then and there. His fist yearned for it, for the contact. For however often Rust felt like his body was not his, he had rarely considered the possibility that it might be in charge. People did what they would with him - his job was merely to take it. There was a strange sort of peace in that type of compartmentalisation, the kind where he could simply leave what apparently made up his person. If he was away from himself, he wouldn’t have to face whatever he was doing. An education in the dissociative state, an underutilised tool. He’d even had a course on it, he was sure. It was part of the reason he could keep his pulse so low, retreating so far into this meat shell that not even his blood flowed too close to the surface. But he felt it now, thrumming in his neck, a riptide. Taking his pulse now would do nothing to save it. The muscles there were stiff, flexing oddly under the strain of choking back on the natural instinct that, it appeared, was his. It tasted like vomit. Maybe that was real, though.

You were not some lamb that needed a shepherd. Fuck, he could never be one, not any version of him: he’d only be leading a thing to rot and ruin, and the parasite would get them, too. No, Rust wasn’t the shepherd. Never the shepherd. Rust was critical and cold. He might’ve been the wolf.

Ten lacerations. Raped.

The laughter of the hoard circled his head again, again, again. Someone must’ve picked at your hair - you grunted.

Abruptly, Rust stood up, like he got shocked because the room was on two different circuits. His spine like some iron rod, so unnaturally straight, his body so unnaturally tense, so unlike himself, he momentarily drew the attention of the other detectives all clustered together in the bullpen. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought they knew, that he was fighting for the wheel, that he was battling back the grey that had begun to vignette his vision. Why was he suddenly so tall? Not even that. Alive. He could hear it: life rushing, roaring, in his ears, crackling like a wildfire. Rust’s body, that strange entity, was momentarily reborn as something else, whose neck was never bowed, whose shoulders never rounded, who conducted itself like it was powerful. Maybe it was.

Marty eyed him like he had grown another fuckin’ head.

Despite the dissipating attention, murmurs to the side, you were still looking at him, too, with your eyes so hard, almost black, like two cherry pits. Rust was piloting, and he would not look away. No. He would look on, as he always did. No matter the electricity burn of your attention, which he preferred to avoid - the energy was coursing through him, bright, his veins fried and blackening. Beneath the surface, his being spasmed and seized. But he knew that you were no different than anything, so he looked.

If he didn’t, he would hit someone. That could be taken the wrong way.

Geraci’s hand was braced on your desk, just next to you, his fat, greasy palm covering some paragraph that you had no doubt been trying to read. Rust’s hands twitched, but he had managed to bring himself inward, had relaxed most of his body thus far, and he would not fuck himself over by letting fists form now.

So, Rust stared at you, cool, unrelenting.

He was surprised by the distance of his own voice when he asked you if you could come over to the files room just a minute and give your opinion on something for him. It was like his own mouth was at the end of a long, stretching tunnel, his words far away from him. He crushed his cigarette into the closest ashtray, annihilating it.

He tasted pennies there, in his mouth. Perhaps he had been biting his tongue. Perhaps it was just the look on your face.

Okay, you said, quiet-like, before you rose, prying yourself away from your desk. As you stepped past him, Rust let himself look at Geraci. People dug their own graves, but that did not cancel out Rust’s thirst to kill. That kind of justice lies in the bones.

Most likely, he just needed to sleep. It was coming up on four days, nearly, without, which did not aid in the dizziness that threatened the stability of Rust’s every step as he slowly turned to follow behind you.

In the files room, you were waiting for him, staring up at the flickering halogen bulb that illuminated this section, the chain still swinging from when you had just pulled it.

Rust stared at your back, far away from himself, almost stumbling back when he closed the door, sealing the two of you off from the real world. His anger flung about like a whirlpool behind his eyes, thrashing and throbbing. If he had mind to say something to you—which he did not—he wouldn’t have been able to anyways. Saliva pooled in his mouth, pushing under his tongue. He cleared his throat, delaying a gag.

When you began to turn to look at him, Rust almost begged out loud that you wouldn’t, his heartbeat thrumming in his throat, almost daring him to start panting for air like a dog. The assault of the light from the halogen bulb was invisible to you, so it could not be real. No, you were looking at him now. With his hand still gripping the handle like it could save him, like he could escape it, you, he almost closed his eyes, cringed away. But what was he?—some child? He could not. Sensation was not necessarily reality, and he was not sick, and you were not of concern to him. Still, he turned slightly, his body angled toward the door at which he still stood, refusing to step any closer. He couldn’t close his eyes—you could get the wrong idea—so, instead, he opted for the linoleum floor, careful to avoid your feet.

Fuck, he could feel your relief washing over him like a warm wave. It almost knocked him clear off his feet, and it left his knees weak, threatening to buckle. Once, he had gone out west, to the coast, with Sophia and Claire. Nothing like where he grew up: out there, in that endless cold, his pa used to warn against any and all large bodies of water, ice. Even when you thought the surface beneath you was safe, it could give out, and you’d fall through into waters you didn’t know could be so deep.

Rust had reason enough to believe that this might’ve been worse.

There was salt spray in his mouth, now. Your ebb and flow churned in his stomach like the beat of a drum, reverberating through his flesh, which he was suddenly very aware of.

You’d figured it out: he didn’t need your help. He didn’t need to be in here either.

Something tangible rolled around on his tongue as your eyes scanned over him, a meticulous, slow rake. It grit between his teeth, like a grain of sand or a seed or something. Rust swallowed it and then fought a proceeding dry heave, smothered by a bright feeling in his throat that only flared up when he heard your breath hitch, too.

You were polite to spare him, to stare at your hands. Wordless, you left him to go busy yourself with nothing in the back of the files room, melting into the shadows, concealing yourself behind a shelving unit.

Even though he couldn’t see you, though, your sweetness still flooded Rust’s mouth, inescapable. He knew you were there, thinking, maybe about him.

He almost wished he had done nothing.

[hoodreader]

rant about hair n black women

as an indigenous person, thinking ab spiritual warfare historically was often exercised by sabotaging the hair: methods such as scalping, hair cutting, or forced veiling/styling shows how much significance hair has in communal morale, and how prohibiting the expression of hair correlates to a weakened community spiritually. it’s all so … ketuvian

rant starting here (very bluntly worded but im saying it with love)

some people might not like what i’m finna say but mama need to say it. ion think black women ever worked w that wound cuz the way black women have chemically altered their hair or put the hair of exploited non black women on their heads is so karmic to me. so many people reluctant to addressing the wound

and when y’all be like “my hair is #indonesian i’m not trying to look white” i’m like ohhh brother. ur being willfully obtuse 💔 u not tryna look white? mkay sure. but u def not tryna look black either. if it was just hair people would be getting wigs that matched their textures :P

do u know how much i see bw self deprecating ? “i hate my hair” “my hair is a curse” etc. sisters pls address ur manufactured desires PLS n do not give in to the texturism - u didn’t come out the womb hating urself. ask WHYYY ask WHYYY. n don’t even start w the “white women wear fake hair too” or “black people can have straight/blonde hair” cuz that’s disingenuous. let the melanesians GO. u are BLACK AMERICAN from ST. LOUIS MISSOURI they got NOTHING to do with you !!!

anyways … the relationship black women have to their hair feels rahuvian lol, n im not saying addressing the wound relating to ur hair will fix the problem but it’s a symptom of the larger issue imo. like the way that black hair trauma is a billion dollar industry is very karmic. these companies are siphoning us as a community … sooo …

here’s some thoughts n notes lol take the advice or don’t #whatever

sm “black hair care” products have carcinogens in them. stop giving them yall money 😭🙏🏾

a lot black hair care is lowk a scam. they usually be using race science to sell it too lol. as a negro, ur hair is not exceptionally so unique that u can’t just use products regular ass products … u just may have to use it differently

less is usually more. black hair as is should be very low maintenance just bc how fragile / delicate afro hair is. youtubers popularized them extensive ass haircare recipes / routines but it’s not necessary unless directed by ur hair care specialist lol also they was getting sponsorships girl they not using all that shit everyday 😭

with that being said, @ some of y’all: y’all not gon see no progress wit y’all hair til u accept ur hair is simply not gonna behave like the loose curly girlies on tiktok. that’s why u think haircare is much more extensive, draining, & fruitless for ur hair. ur trying to get it to subvert its nature & that rejection of nature is a ancestral/karmic imbalance. example: wash n go means wash n go, it doesn’t mean slick w 4 diff products and then blow drying the roots and then finger shingling and then blah blah blah so it hangs loose

lean into the ketu of it all. let go of societal perceptions of good hair, of did hair, of allat. let it go n let god. be ok with frizzy edges, u do not NEED a slick ponytail. knotless r ok but not as protective as people say. sometimes u just need some dookie braids and oil. and for the love of god give ur scalps a BREAK !!!

rant over, mama loves u so pls hear me out. this correlates to my spiritual hair care posts. i just felt it on my spirit :P this obv don’t mean u can’t do whatever u want w ur hair but at least maybe #stop the exploited human hair laces & put the relaxers down … moderate heat. just my imo. :p ur beautiful as u are. are u not tired of performing for the white eye in ur minds ? for the colonizer in ur hearts ?

anyways … i love u … bye n read the bluest eye by toni morrison x

[nfr-girly]

You and Hasan separated and co-parent, but he still loves you // Hasan x reader

Summary: Hasan wants to convince you to give him a chance again

border by: @enchanthings-a

*this is a pt 2 but can be read on own* part 1

You set up the table as you wait for Hasan to arrive, you know what you two will have to talk about eventually but you don’t think about it

you hear fast footsteps running before a force is collided into your legs almost knocking you over

“Oof! Baby calm down” you pick up Theo and he giggles

“When is baba coming?”

“soon baby he’s bringing Kaya too!” He gasps in excitement before jumping down to go watch tv

half an hour goes by and all the food is prepared, you sit on the sofa with theo when you hear the doorbell ring

“BABA!!!” Theo bolts toward the door and tries to open it but is to short to reach, you chuckle and go to open the door.

you open it to Hasan, all dressed up with Kaya next to him, Kaya runs into the house before you can say hello

“BABA!!” Theo jumps up and down as Hasan picks him up, trying not to have his eardrum burst

“Hey big guy how are you? I missed you”

Theo starts rambling on about stuff, Hasan listens and chimes in now and then, but you don’t miss his glances at you

“Baby give baba a minute okay?” You laugh as he runs back into the house

You turn to Hasan to find him already looking at you

“Hi”

“Hey”

You two are silent for a second before you invite him in, he hangs up his coat before you lead him to the living room

“It’s really nice to have you here, i didn’t cook anything fancy we only planned this yesterday so..”

“Hey it’s okay, I miss your cooking anyway, you were always better than me” he chuckles

You two sit with Theo for a few minutes before heading to the table to eat

“I’ve prepared a special meal for Kaya too, I remember all her favourites”

“You’re kidding, after this she’ll love you more than me”

“That’s what I aimed for” you smile

Hasan helps Theo get on his chair as you hand the plates of pasta out

“Tell me this is with your homemade sauce because I could die for it” Hasan says

“It iss so you better like it” you joke

“You need to give me the recipe, you kind of owe me”

“For what?”

“Well I gave you a baby!”

“What so the morning sickness everyday for 9 months wasn’t enough?”

Hasan shuts up.

You all sit at the table and begin dinner

Theo talks about his time at school, speaking twice as fast so none of you could keep up

When you and Hasan can get a word in, you talk about small things that have happened in your lives, you didn’t realise how much there was that you hadn’t told Hasan. 4 years ago you two told each-other everything

Dinner flows by, and it feels like nothings changed. It feels like the dinners you would get before Theo could even talk, before all the arguments you and Hasan would have, before Theo had to go live with your mom so he wouldn’t hear the things you two said

You and Hasan never liked to talk about what happened, right now you two were friends and it felt better to stay that way.

You all finish dinner and Hasan helps you tidy up, Theo is worn out so you take him to bed

He gets changed and you tuck him into bed

“mama, is baba gonna stay?” You’re taken back slightly by his question

“No baby he has to go home soon”

“Whyyy I don’t want him to go, can he read me a story?”

“Let me ask him okay?” You go downstairs and ask Hasan, to which he agrees and you both go upstairs

“Hey bud, what do ya wanna read?”

“This!!” He pulls out a book and Hasan cosies up next to him

You’re about to leave when Hasan says “you coming mama?”

You think for a second before joining them, Theo lies in between you and Hasan

He begins reading softly to him, making sure to take his time. Near the end Theo starts snoring so you both know he’s asleep.

Hasan smiles and puts away the book, you both gently get out of bed and head downstairs

“I haven’t read to him in ages” he says

“I know, you should come over more often”

Hasan looks at you, longer than he wanted to

“So uh, are you and Kaya headed back home?”

hasan stops, “well, I was hoping we could talk about what I said yesterday”

Your breath catches in your throat - you were really hoping he’d forget

“I know that you don’t like talking about it, which is fine because I have a lot to say. I know that you and me didn’t work out, and I know that it was really bad last time. Believe me I’ve been scared myself, I don’t want that for Theo again”

“But it’s been 4 years, you and me worked it out, we broke up, we worked on ourselves and became friends again. And I’m happy we did that. But as soon as we both got happy again I felt so fucking miserable. Because I didn’t have the love of my life by my side which by the way you are, that’s never going to change. I just want us to be a family again, me, you, Theo and Kaya. so just please give me a chance, and if it doesn’t work out again then I’ll never say anything more about it.”

By now you’re tearing up, you have a million thoughts in your head and you don’t know which one to focus one

“Hey hey” he steps towards you, wiping your eyes

“Don’t cry okay? Please I hate seeing you upset”

“I’m not upset it’s just.. I’m so scared Hasan, Theo’s only just gotten used to the fact his parents aren’t together, but I know he still remembers our fighting. I just know, and I don’t want to put him through that now that he’s older”

Hasan takes in your words, he knows there’s a bigger risk than he realises but his need for you grows stronger

“I promise you, that I’m not going to let this ruin us, we’re better now, we’ve worked on ourselves. Nothings gonna change the fact that you’re the one for me, and I know you still love me.”

“Just tell me if you want to try again, I’m not going to force you but I don’t want you saying no just because you’re scared” Hasan pleads

You look up at him, you know you want to try again, and as much as you want to say no, you can’t help but wonder how things will end up if you try

“Okay” you nod

Hasan is taken back, “what?”

“Okay, we can try this out”

Hasan takes a moment before he smiles

“Really baby you mean it?”

You laugh slightly, “yes I mean it, but I want to take this slow, no rushing into things”

Hasan agrees, before thinking

“I know that you just said we can’t rush into things, but I really wanna fucking kiss you right now so can you give me that?”

You laugh and nod, Hasan doesn’t give it a second before he pulls you in and connects your lips to his

He holds your waist as you hold his face, all the worries you held wash away because all you care about now is him.

————————————————————————

guys call me shakespeare I wrote this in like 30 minutes

🏷️ @mavericksice @thatsactuallyinzane @kaya-p @fullofgutsndopamine @inhibitionfreewriting @the-phantom-author @makeandshift @hot-insurrectionist @hasblair @haileyisnotcool @xxepherr @hoziersmom @w3-posts

(tagged people who interacted with part 1 in case they wanted to read part 2)

[oatmealdoodles]

*Spoilers for HB Full Moon*

I don’t have my thoughts coherent enough to make a clear post so im just gonna ramble

GOD this episode was a trip. Was expecting it to all be Stolitz, and then it took a hard turn with the Cherubs and the FBI, and to be honest I couldn’t care less about them. It wasn’t bad by any mean, but I was disappointed to see over half the episode titled “Full Moon” was gonna be about something other than Stolitz

And then in the last FIVE MINUTES they pull out all the stops and give us this

VIV YOU WERE HOLDING OUT ON US

I love the way this episode did misunderstandings, which is something people usually hate, because you can SO EASILY see where everyone’s coming from, and they are both completely justified. Stolas only meant good, he wanted to break the toxic deal he had with Blitzo, and he was very thorough about it. But he took Blitzo’s first bad reaction as a sign that he didn't love him, instead of giving him time to think. And Blitzo’s first reaction to someone loving him and genuinely wanting the best for him to be that they’re faking it HURTS. His outburst seems irrational but when you take into consideration how much he’s been rejected, it almost makes sense that he would assume Stolas is getting rid of him, because he’s SO CONVINCED that no one could ever love him.

And I was expecting pain, but I was NOT expecting Stolas to be choking through his tears hurt by Blitz

THIS WAS A STEP TO FAR VIV I THOUHT WE WER FRENDS

I also LOVE how this episode establishes Stolas’s charachter growth. Going back to the first episode, Im sorry but these are NOT the same people

Before Stolas was cruel and dismissive of Blitzo, only wanting to sleep with him. But now he’s grown into someone who genuinely loves him, and is willing to give up their relationship if thats what would make Blitzo happy. And this was all super subtle, over the course of many confrontations. You almost don’t realize it’s happening, but it feels so natural. You can FEEL how much Stolas loves Blitzo in this scene, and genuinely wants the best for him.

Also How Blitzo looked so HAPPY to see Stolas, he went on a night out shopping for him and looked SO EXITED to finally see him. And just how DESPERATE he looks when Stolas is saying he wants the grimware back, literally crying and begging Stolas to reconsider. I dont think I need to say this but I dont think this is about the book. GOD I hurst that the first time we’ve seen Blitzo exited about seeing stolas AND IT END LIKE THIS.

There are also so many parallels with Blitzo and Stolas switching sides, Blitz now being the h0rny one and Stolas the one who truly cares. It’s a ‘how the tables have turned” that makes this episode all the more painful once you realize:

(thanks to @timkontheunsure and @miyakuli for pointing these out)

And BROOOO THE CHANDELEIR FROM WHEN THEY WERE KIDS IN THE FINAL SHOT I didnt even realize this at the beginning but whYYY?

edit: I LOVE people pointing out that Blitzo screaming at Stolas might have reminded him of his toxic relationship with Stella, which might be why he shut down and cried, because that’s what he did with her.

anyways I think that’s all I got so have some Fizzy to cheer you up

[pathologicalreid]

Margot you hate Maeve? :(

Whyyy? She‘s so pretty and has a nice voice and at the end of the day I support Womens rights and wrongs so hating her do keeping her ex-fiancé as a secret is not a solid reason to me! (lowkey joking but still whyyy?

long winded answer to this question below the cut

i do hate maeve! but i love beth riesgraf (if you ever want to see her in another show she’s in leverage her character’s name is parker and the episodes are in full on youtube)

maeve is a mary sue! she’s brought into the show and presented to viewers as a “perfect match” for spencer. we’re given a few phone calls periodically from their 8 months together and it’s just not enough to convince me as an audience member that spencer was in love with her. she’s even referred to as the love of his life which just gets further ruined as the show goes on (re: in season 15 when spencer implies he’s been in love with jj for 15 years).

they have no chemistry! and if you’re thinking “but margot you only see them talking on the phone” and to that i would say exactly! i have dms with mutuals with more chemistry than reid and maeve ever had. i’m observing their relationship with what i’m given as a viewer, and spencer had more chemistry with austin (52 pickup), dylan (hero worship), and dorian (rock creek park) than he did with any of his canon love interests (i’m adding max to the conversation)

i’m not convinced she was very good at her job 😭 b-12 and magnesium for chronic migraines is a fucking crazy recommendation from a geneticist because we see spencer going to all of these specialists and anyone who has ever had a chronic illness will tell you that a blood panel like that would’ve been the first thing they looked at!!! i know they weren’t technically doctor-patient, but there’s still some wonky power dynamic that i don’t like!

one of my biggest quarrels is that she had a stalker. she was dating an fbi agent who was part of this renowned unit. she never asked for help. in fact she refused to let him help even after he offered to bring the case to the team!!!! i had a stalker (years ago dw) and i absolutely would’ve accepted any help offered to me at the time!

maybe if they had given us more of them before the events of zugzwang she could have grown on me! if they had included their conversation about the blindfold so that we could see it again when diane brought it up we could’ve connected those dots and felt more involved in their relationship.

tl;dr, i don’t hate maeve as a person but i do hate her as a character, if that makes sense