#I mean the fact that I’m kind of failing (I am failing) right now is making the stress and thus the sleeping worse

[valeriehalla]

at this point I just categorically have 90,000,000 times more fun on tumblr than the smoldering wreckage of twitter. like, twitter was already becoming kind of a drag for me before the hostile takeover, and now that cohost (hallowed be her name) is shutting down, it's like, well—i guess we doin’ tumbls again!! “it’s obviously the best one”

honestly, while the queer internet may never recover from the sucking wound that was and is tumblr’s NSFW ban—at least not as long as the united states of america continues to fail to take antitrust action against apple, google, and the payment processors collectively serving as the final boss of what’s allowed to be posted where on the internet—i’m starting to feel like tumblr is moving back into position as The Best Site For Artists regardless. my thoughts on this are half-formed, but it’s like this:

every other social media platform is either 1. tiktok, 2. hyper-obscure, or 3. slow-motion self-destructing to a degree way beyond even what tumblr inflicted upon itself in 2018. this is not a new sentiment i don’t think.

i think the fact that tumblr is unable to capture the literal billions of users every other platform is chasing makes it arguably a lot nicer for the users who are here. there is no way for an application to achieve a tiktok-sized install base that isn’t just naked manipulation and skinnerboxing. tumblr’s leadership seems either too incompetent to pull it off or too wise to try, and so we have what is effectively the last microblogging platform on the internet that’s actually still usable for microblogging.

also, a smaller-but-not-too-small audience is more engaged with what they’re seeing. simple as. a thousand notes on tumblr means more than a million views on tiktok and it always will.

of course, i am in fact making a living off of sexually-explicit art right now, and so tumblr cannot be my One Platform. i get away with it because the art is in service of a story hosted off-site, and so i never need to post The Whole Pussy on here; if i was exclusively an illustrator i’d be even less thrilled with the current state of things than i already ain’t. i guess this is just a testament to how truly bad The State Of Things has gotten, though. congratulations, tumblr: you really did win by doing absolutely nothing.

[vydumaj]

it’s so frustrating to constantly feel that I’m not operating at my max, or even normal, potential right now. I hear things in lecture, I read things, I kind of take them in and understand most of it but I retain next to nothing. plus I have no energy so I can’t spend as much time practicing as I need (much more time required than I would’ve needed just 2-3 years ago)… I don’t know how to get back to my normal levels of… brain efficiency, or how to make myself able to…remember things again.

[igotanidea]

Haircut: Jason Todd x reader

Inspired by the post from @pop-culturereference about what Jason's fans really want from DC (link here)

***

„AH!!”

An involuntary scream left her mouth the second she came home. Jason was not used to his girlfriend being so expressive, but protective instinct kicked in as he jumped off the couch he was reading a book on and immediately rushed to her side.

“Y/N! Love, what happened?” his hands found hers, squeezing them gently, trying to ground her in reality and assure her that whatever scared her so much was no match for him.

“What happened to you?” she sobbed, not even trying to stop the tears running down her cheeks.

“Huh?” Jason frowned “Look, I know I’m not exactly model handsome, but—”

“WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!” she wailed as if someone was tearing her heart out or squeezing her lungs.

“What are you--?” he tried again, quite taken aback by the intensity of her emotions. She wasn’t ever crying this much when he came home bloodied and bruised. She never let a single muscle on her face twitch while  patching him up. But when he was okay, just chilling and for once – not getting into trouble she got into a waterfall mode. “Y/n? Look at me. Look at me!” he grabbed her chin and forced her eyes on him.

“I AM!”

“Then you can see I’m all good. It’s all good! Come on baby, whatever fear took over your brain, you have to wake up from this!”

“Your hair!” she broke into crying fit again

“My hair?” he instinctively ran his fingers through his strands. “What about them?”

“WHERE IS IT?”

Oh.

Oh, so finally they were getting to the bottom of the problem.

He cut his hair shorter than she was used to and clearly she didn’t like it.

“Look, I just thought-“

“Was it Roy? I’m sure it was Roy. I swear to God, I’m gonna kill him! How is it that I leave you guys for a few hours and you always end up causing trouble.”

“It was not—”

“Then who was it? Dick?”

“Ugh! As if I would ever let him anywhere near my head!”

“Then who helped you did this atrocity?” she pressed, taking a look at his inch-long strands.

“I did it myself.” He responded, almost sounding proud.

“You-you-yourself…?” Y/N’s eyes grew wide as she stuttered. Her bag was dropped to the ground with a concerning sound of rattling, but neither of them care about the possibility of something being crashed. They had more urgent matters at the moment. The sense of betrayal slowly started creeping inside her heart.

“It’s just hair—”

“Just hair?! Are you insane?” she snapped at him “You should have asked me what I think first!”

“But—”

“Do not argue with me, Jason! You’re my boyfriend! It is not just about what you like! You can’t just act on whims without finding out my approach to the matter!”

“It’s just hair—” once more, the poor attempt at reaching her reason failed.

“How am I supposed to run my fingers through it now? And how am I supposed to live without your mop tickling me when we cuddle?”

“Y/n…” he smiled softly, cupping her cheek, meeting her eyes

“I liked them longer… I’m sorry if that hits your insecurities, but—”

“It does make me a little unsure, not gonna lie.” He chuckled. “But only a little. Cause what I’m hearing now, is that you liked my wilder look. For example when I was taking the hood off and have my hair all ruffled? Or when I was –”

“I see what you are trying to do here, Mr. Todd and I’m not falling for it.” Y/N read right through his intentions to invoke an innuendo and tried to step back.

“Come on, baby.” Jason quickly grabbed her waist, circling arms around her like two snakes, preventing her from backing out. “Admit it. You liked the bad boy image I had. It turned you on, didn’t it?”

“Well it doesn’t anymore—“

“Guess that only means, I’ll have to try twice as hard… Cause too bad for you, sunshine, my hair is gonna stay like that for a while. So you have to like it. “

“Oh really-?”

“Most definitely. In fact, I think I’m gonna ditch the longer hair for good. This kind of haircut is so much more practical, you know. No strands sticking to my forehead when we get sweaty. None of them in my eyes when I fight only in the domino mask, no tangles and all that stuff-“

“You’re terrible!”

“Yeah, yeah I am, and what are you going to do about it baby?” he smirked and leaned forward, giving her a teasing look “you love me either way, we both know it.”

“Well maybe I should cut my hair too.” Her eyes glistened with mischief “you know- to match your new style.”

“What?” Jason turned a little pale. His princess was going to get rid of her perfect locks?! Over his dead body! (Even if that meant dying again.) “You are not!”

“Too bad for you I already made that decision. In fact I’m gonna go to the hairdresser first thing tomorrow—”

“I won’t let you out of here! You can’t just make such important decisions without talking to me first!”

“But I just told you.” She fluttered her eyelashes innocently.

“And the answer is no!”

“It was not a question.”

“You are not cutting your hair. It is not only yours! It’s mine too! We’re a couple, practically like one being!”

“Well maybe if we attach some of mine to your head we can both have what we want?”

“I got a better idea. I’ll keep you trapped here for as long as mine grow back, how about that?”

“And what shall we do for so many months Mr Todd?” she hummed with a glint in her eyes.”

“Duh! I’ll make sure to convince you that the length of my hair is not the one that should be of your concern, baby…” Jason smirked letting his hoarse tone reveal what was on his mind.

Was he acting like a hypocrite? Yes.

Did she care? No.

Cause one thing that was absolutely sure about Jason Todd that there was only one like him in the world. Capable of twisting the words in a way that always turned the situation a little less serious. And whatever hairstyle he was sporting, she was not going to change him for anyone else.

[dia-souls]

Diabolik Lovers Cute and Sweet Confessions (Based on DF and LE Games and CDs) part1

(❤️ fluff moments, cute confession, OOC, ... ❤️)

Shu to Yui: I...lose all meaning in life when you’re not with me. From here on out, I’ll protect both you and my family with my own two hands. To live alongside my precious family, and the woman I love. Komori Yui. I...love you. (DF Vampire.End)

Shu talking about Yui: Forcing her way into my heart, she’s a meddlesome, bothersome, and precious woman. Until she takes her final breath, I’ll continue to love her. (Zero CD track.04)

Shu talking about Yui: I’m well aware. Even so, I don’t plan on letting her go. If I fall into misfortune, I’ll simply drag her along with me, no matter how deep we may drop. (Zero CD track.04)

Reiji to Yui: My beloved Yui... No matter what kind of destiny lies ahead of us, we will always be together. Forever, and ever. (DF Vampire.End)

Reiji to Yui: Please make a promise. Vow that you will entrust your future to me, and me only. I love you. (BB CD track.05)

Reiji to Yui: The flowers right here are in full bloom right now. It is a beautiful garden. Let us pluck one of them. I am sure it will look lovely in your hair. (Daylight CD track.05)

Ayato to Yui: You’re right here in front of me. That’s why I want to touch you. Want to embrace you. Don’t want to let you go. Want you by my side... I love you Yui. No matter what becomes of the world, let’s be together. That’s simply how I feel. (DF Vampire.End)

Ayato to Yui: Don’t ever let go again, understood? …Well, I’m not lettin’ you even if you tried. Haha…I’ll love you and only you…forever. (BB CD track.05)

Ayato to Yui: I love you. More than anyone else in this world. I won’t let you go until death parts us. ...No, scratch that. Even if one of us dies, I’m not givin’ you up. (LE Vampire.End)

Kanato to Yui: Yui-san I’ll live on for your sake. So please be there by my side. Stay with me forever, and ever. This love is eternal... (DF Vampire.End)

Kanato to Yui: Your place to be is by my side. Likewise, you are the only person I wish to keep my by side. I won’t hand you over to anyone! (Zero CD track.04)

Kanato to Yui: You...were always the one holding me in your arms, while I failed to do anything for you. I was always on the receiving end, making demands...Even if it may be too late, is there really nothing I can do for you right now? For your sake, I will... (Daylight CD track.04)

Kanato to Yui: Honestly, the fact I’m able to hold your hand again like this...It feels like a miracle to me. I truly...truly am so relieved. I think I finally realize how valuable you and your life are. ー And what it means to have to part one day. ...As well as that it is something unavoidable. (Daylight CD track.05)

Laito to Yui: My life has been worth it, simply because I was able to meet you. ...Thank you. Even if I have been nothing but a marionette my whole life, my love for you is genuine. It’s such a trivial matter, when I consider I could have lost you. (DF Vampire.End)

Laito to Yui: Thank god...To think that for the longest time...I believed that I did not need something precious...or special to me...Yet right now, I can’t even phantom a life without you...That’s a huge change of heart...for me personally. So, please? From here on out, till forever. Or till your life comes to an end is fine as well... Stay with me, okay? (BB CD track.04)

Laito to Yui: You truly are a strange girl. You are probably the only one...who can rouse my emotions this much. It hurts. Very much so...I want you to love me from the bottom of your heart. (PS CD track.04)

Subaru to Yui: Thanks to you, I was able to change. I found something I wish to protect. All I want is for my precious family to smile. Because I realized there is no greater joy which exists in life. Thank you. (DF Vampire.End)

Subaru to Yui: I was able to break through the darkness, and overcome my own cruel fate.I’m never lettin’ you go again. Yui I will love you forever. (DF Vampire.End)

Subaru to Yui: No matter what the future holds for us, I’ll protect you so don’t ever leave my side again...Okay? I love you. (BB CD track.05)

Ruki to Yui: I didn’t think we’d one day tie the knot under the blue sky like this. ...I wonder if this warmth in my chest is what one would call ‘happiness’? ...I would have never gotten the chance to experience this feeling if I hadn’t met you. ...So thank you. ( DF Vampire.End)

Ruki to Yui: It’s because you’re here. You’re the one who makes the sky, and the whole world seem that much more beautiful. You are the one making me feel so fulfilled inside. You were my joy, my luck...and my hope. I doubt that will ever change. We will live and pass away together. That’s how I truly feel. I love you Yui. (DF Vampire.End)

Ruki to Yui: Let’s be together and love each other. Just like we vowed on this ring. Until the bitter end. (Daylight CD track.04)

Ruki to Yui: No need to be scared. I’m right here with you. Even if I were to leave, it would only be for a short while. Once you open your eyes, I’ll be there in front of you again. No matter where you find yourself waking up. I will come to see you at once. So...Don’t worry about a thing, and rest in peace. (Daylight CD track.05)

Kou to Yui: You’re so beautiful! I almost want to show you off to the whole world and brag about how you’re MY bride! Thank you so much for choosing me...I will treasure you for life. (DF Vampire.End)

Kou to Yui: Even if death tries to separate us...I won’t give up on you so easily again. I will vow my eternal love to you. Until the very last second. I love you Yui. (DF Vampire.End)

Kou to Yui: Please…Smile? …So I can burn the image of your smile...in my mind forever. (Daylight CD track.01)

Yuma to Yui: Try holding my hand. It’s warm, right? Hehe...It’s the same temperature as yers now, right? (DF Vampire.End)

Yuma to Yui: Still...Don’t ya think it’s ironic? I once survived a fire, yet here I am once again, surrounded by flames. ...I’ll love ya forever, and ever...Yui. (DF Manservant.End)

Yuma to Yui: Take a look. The sun has appeared in the sky. Right now, we’re the very first people on this earth to witness the sunrise. (Daylight CD track.05)

Azusa to Yui: I will never let you go again...I love you, Eve...Let’s savor these moments we spend together from here on out, okay...? (DF Vampire.End)

Azusa to Yui: I’m so happy to be able to live here together with you in this Paradise. A Paradise for just the two of us, where nobody will get in our way, or disagree with our relationship. Now it can be just the two of us, for eternity. (DF Vampire.End)

Azusa to Yui: If you were to become a flower…I promise I will continue to treasure you, just as much as I do right now…I’ll tell you how pretty you are every day, and give you water. And every time the petals move…I’ll think of it as you smiling. (Daylight CD track.05)

Carla to Yui: I promise that I shall forever protect you...as well as our child inside your belly, to show my thanks for granting me with such warm feelings. (LE Vampire.End)

Carla to Yui: I thought happiness was something I would never get to experience. But I believe that I have finally come to somewhat understand what it means. (LE Vampire.End)

Carla talking about Yui: To think she would seem so fleeting, in such a fragile physical state. Even so, she continued to strongly express her feelings for me. My irreplaceable partner. (Daylight CD track.05)

Shin to Yui: You are all I need. There is nothing else I want. ...Be with me forever, okay? (DF Vampire.End)

Shin to Yui: I-I’m begging you…!! Don’t leave me…! …Ugh…Why? …Just when…I finally saw the light thanks to you…This just can’t be, right? (Daylight CD track.05)

Shin to Yui: Right now I realize that being able to submit to others when needed is a sign of strength as well. It does not matter if this other person belongs to another race, or if they’re the enemy of us Founders. …I refuse to give up. Not until the bitter end. No way in hell! This is my chance…to show you how strong I truly am! (Daylight CD track.05)

Kino to Yui: You taught me many important things...Such as how to love someone...and trust others. Thank you so much, truly. (LE Vampire.End)

Kino to Yui: At this Promised Land, I want to live together forever. With you, the person more dear to me than anything or anyone else in this world. I love you Yui. (LE Vampire.End)

Kino to Yui: I honestly didn’t think there would ever come a day where I get to speak these words but...Let me say them. I love you Yui. More than anyone, or anything else. You are precious to me...even more so than my own life. (LE Heaven.03)

Kino to Yui: Hehe, I can’t believe just hearing you say my name…fills me with so much joy. If only I had realized this sooner. (Daylight CD track.05)

[littlespoonevan]

i'll keep it all to myself

7x04 coda (she's back, baby xoxo)

-

“Hey, killer.”

Buck winces, mouth already tripping over an apology as he moves into the Diaz living room. “Eddie, I’m so sorry-“

“Buck, I’m kidding,” Eddie interrupts, exasperated and just a little fond. He hasn’t been on the receiving end of that tone in a few days. It’s embarrassing to say he missed it. “Sit down.”

Buck takes the armchair instead of sitting on the couch next to Eddie. He’s not sure why. He never sits in the armchair. Sitting in it now he almost feels…off balance. But then catching sight of Eddie’s foot propped up on the coffee table sobers him immediately and he forgets all about the strange discomfort in his stomach.

Reaching for the cushion behind him, he gets up again. “You should have something under that,” he says, gently lifting Eddie’s leg to place the cushion on the table. He lowers it again carefully, nodding in satisfaction when Eddie’s foot is nestled safely in the cushion. “The table is too hard.”

“Oh sorry, I thought I was the one with real medical training,” Eddie quips but there’s no bite behind the words.

“Yeah but I’m the one with crush injury experience,” Buck says, kicking his own legs up on the table in proof.

Eddie opens his mouth as if to argue back but then closes it again, rolling his eyes, but his lips twitch a bit. Just at the corners.

“Eddie, I really am sorry,” he says, straightening in his seat and forcing himself to meet Eddie’s gaze properly. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I just got so-“

“I know,” Eddie replies, quiet and careful and devoid of any of his earlier teasing. “But you know you can talk to me, right? Like, it’s me Buck. You can just tell me when something’s wrong.”

Buck does know that. He knows he can tell Eddie everything. Anything. The bad and the good.

Which means he should be able to clear this up right away, right? He should just be able to say, ‘Hey, I was apparently working through some latent feelings I never knew I had. And I took that out on you. But guess what! I like Tommy and he likes me back and we have a date Saturday!’

But thinking about telling Eddie that Tommy kissed him makes his chest constrict in a way that he doesn’t expect. So he tucks it up in a neat little box in the corner of his mind for now and focuses on making sure Eddie’s okay. Because he can do that. He knows how to do that.

“I’m an idiot,” he says. “And if you want I will totally give you one free punch so we’re even.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “I could never hit you.”

“Should I go get Christopher’s Legos instead and step on them with my shoes off?”

Eddie lets out a real laugh then, the kind that makes his eyes close and his head fall back against the couch cushion, and Buck feels so much affection for him well up inside him he’s almost breathless with it.

“You’re an idiot,” Eddie tells him. “And a martyr. Seriously, Buck, I don’t care. I just want to make sure you and I are okay.”

“Of course we are,” Buck says, without actually stopping to interrogate if that’s true or not.

They are, he thinks. The fact that something absolutely life altering happened to him an hour ago and he somehow can’t make himself tell Eddie about it is…inconsequential.

He’s just hedging his bets. Not trying to get ahead of himself before he has yet another failed romance.

“In that case, can you go to the fridge and get us some beers?” Eddie asks, pulling Buck back to reality.

“You shouldn’t be drinking,” Buck says, even as he stands. Maybe they can split a beer. Half a bottle shouldn’t hurt. “Tommy says you’re on pain meds.”

“Oh, so you guys talked?”

Eddie says it unassumingly and when Buck freezes at the dining table and looks over his shoulder he finds that Eddie isn’t even looking at him. He’s leaning forward on the couch, adjusting his leg, but when Buck takes too long to answer he raises his head and gives him an expectant look.

“Yeah,” Buck murmurs, the phantom rasp of Tommy’s stubble against his mouth still tingling and making him want to reach up and touch his lips. That would give too much away though. “We talked.”

Eddie smiles, nodding his approval. “Good. Maybe all three of us can actually hang out together now.”

The thought immediately makes Buck’s stomach swoop with something unnameable but he doesn’t let it show on his face.

“Sure,” he breathes. “Sounds great.”

[ma1dita]

solipsism

a 'partners in crime' installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader

words: 5.1k

summary: (post-TLT) drink responsibly… trouble doesn’t; you punch luke in this lol (novelization spoilers? kinda canon-compliant)

The one where you finally pray to Hestia to keep your home safe, even if he's also trying to destroy it. Luke visits you four times during college, in a timeline opposite to yours (doctor x river song-coded) (lore expansion & explanation here) (Luke Castellan x fem!Dionysus!reader)

a/n: i hurt myself with this one. anyways its canon (to me) that we’re roommates now !!!! more to come like i promised even during my birthday break ! scream at me in the comments and feel free to reblog :)

(post 3/6, edited/betad @hotchfiles )

—

solipsism (the idea that only one’s mind is sure to exist)

You didn’t mean to send a prayer out into the world so strong that it would will an apparition of an Olympian, but burning cookies seems to be your specialty. Arguably, they weren’t the good kind, just the ones you grab in the freezer aisle of Walmart, and still, somehow they set your fire alarm off. Opening a window and waving through the smoke— Hestia, goddess of the hearth and home was standing next to the rickety dining table you bought off Facebook marketplace. 

“Holy shit, you scared me!” 

There’s mirth in her eyes at your reaction, though for all you know it could be annoyance—it’s not often that an immortal could be badgered enough to reveal themselves for an accident like this one.

“Dionysus was right. You’re too much like him for your own good,” she grins, taking a seat at the table like she’s an old friend. There’s a warmth to her unlike anyone you’ve met before—fire crackling in her eyes and an aura of serenity swaddling the air that you’ve never felt before in your student accomodations.

“I’m sorry I just… with all due respect, what’s going on?”

You go to toss the hot tray of cookies in the trash bin, before hesitating and putting them on your nicest plate. A gentle shove slides them over the table to the goddess, and she takes a crunch out of one happily.

“You were praying,” she states, like its common knowledge, “so strongly, in fact, I thought I’d make a visit to one of my most loyal devotees. Though in this case, you’re the object of his devotion, yes?”

Your hands are clasped across your lap and a familiar feeling spreads through you, then she jerks her hand up and points, “There. You’re doing it again. Y’know, it’s about time you start reciprocating the effort. Hermes’ son prays for you with intention.” You were thinking about Luke before she appeared—and hope glimmered like a tiny open flame. It’s still there, in the slow beating of your heart.

“He’s waging war with the gods. I don’t think he prays to them anymore,” you reason. Luke's offerings to the hearth must have been extinguished by the wrath he’s rained on Camp Half-Blood by now. The perfect storm.

“Not when it comes to you. Mortals never fail to surprise me. But it seems you’re a special case, my sweet. He’s made a home of you.”

To love Luke feels like having to keep a secret and never being able to tell anyone, but Hestia reaches for your hands across the table and looks at you knowingly.

“When I gave up my seat on Olympus for your father it wasn’t a sign of weakness, even if I did it so that others could be happy. I think your soul is a lot like mine in that you’ve given up so much of what you want to protect others. In turn, he’s doing the best he can to protect you; I listen to him every day, sweet girl. You are not weak for loving him still. There are generations of strength in your bones.”

“What else am I supposed to do? I search for him in everyone I meet and I’m not sure I’ll ever find that type of love again.”

These are thoughts you’d never told anyone—not Annabeth, not your father, not even yourself and surely never aloud.

“I hope you never do,” the goddess says, and you know it too.

i. no winter lasts forever (a night out after a drive home from virginia)

Flick. Flick.

“Come on, Hestia. Not you too. Don’t fail me now,” you mumble. The frigid metal of your zippo lighter rubs against your thumbs as you cup it in your hands, shielding the tiny flame that fights the harsh winter wind. Trying to focus as you lean against the brick of the Inferno, you take a deep inhale of smoke to warm your bones. Healing was never supposed to be easy.

Breathe in.

It’s somewhat of a routine you’ve made since getting back from visiting Annie. You’re a regular at this pub now—not even acclimated to the ins and outs of your sleepy college town, and though you don’t know the name of the hall your classes are in, you do know there’s a barstool in the corner of the Inferno with your name on it. There’s something funny about using your father’s gift as a form of fake id, and you wonder if he knows how heavily you indulge in your vices. Five vodka redbulls down the hatch have your knees feeling weak under the alley light until a stranger looms over you like a shadow.

“Those things are gonna kill you one day.”

Breathe out.

“Gods willing,” you laugh, stumbling over your boots and Luke catches you like he was never meant to let you go in the first place. The leather of his jacket is musky and his hair is buzzed. 

Either you were wasted or uncaring of who he was (both), you toss him your car keys and climb into the passenger seat. It’s a silent ride to your apartment besides you giving him the directions and Luke wonders how bad he must have hurt you for you to lay out for a stranger and waste away like this. But he’s the farthest thing from a stranger, even in this error in time and you’re still the daughter of the god of wine so after the third time you try to put your key in the lock he helps you because he hopes you’ll let him in.

“Y’know Annie would get a kick out of your haircut. Come inside.”

You’ve always been able to see right through him.

He’s standing in the hallway with his hand around your waist and he’s already broken too many of the titan’s orders by being here, so he scoffs, “You’re not gonna remember this by morning.” But you leave the door open anyway, dragging him by the wrist and your hand still feels the same in his even after all this time. What more is there to resist when there’s not much left of him to lose? 

This is the last time, he reminds Kronos, and there are monstrous hands around his brain, but yours are still gently holding his heart. The little part of his soul that hasn’t been eaten away holds on for a bit longer, tethered to your being by the way your hands are tied.

“I can, if you want me to.” 

He looks ready for war, and he is— yet you have him following you around the tiny living room almost in a trace as your arms loop around his neck. Luke doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know if you’d want to see him sober, especially when his absence is still fresh for you.

“Baby you look different from the last time we met,” you slur, stepping onto his feet as he takes you for a spin around the coffee table, dancing in the quiet. He’s older than you’ve ever seen him, voice deeper and colder. This is not the boy that ran from you in the forest many months ago. This is a man who’s seen horrors you haven’t lived through yet. You can deduce that he’s the cause of them too.

“So do you. Though still as beautiful as I remember,” he whispers like he’ll get struck for saying it. Your eyes are unfocused as he inspects your face, still soft and young with hope. The titan grips his features now, almost burning through his sense of self—though it’s not tangible he wonders if you could see it.

“I see you all the time. I just… usually have to drink enough to make it feel real. I just miss you.”

He looks pained at your words, and for a moment you wonder if he even heard you. Luke pushes you towards your room, an aura of darkness spreading through him like fire but he relents, pushing past the flames. He’s on borrowed time now, but Luke would gladly waste those minutes tucking you into bed.

Lifting your arms up, he pulls an old shirt of his over your shoulders, and his eyes catch onto the fact that you’re still wearing the dragon scale necklace he made you. Luke digs through your medicine cabinet while you sloppily wash your face and his calloused hands rub serums and moisturizer into your cheeks like how you taught him once upon a time. These are the things he won’t forget. Kronos can take it all away, as long as he gets to keep you. You lean against his chest and shut your eyes, scared that if you open them again he won’t be there.

“You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Are you mine?”

“I’m always going to be yours,” he says with no hesitation, “Four years later, and there is still not one living thing worth losing you,” he says, lips chasing after your fingertips as you trace his jaw. Your eyes flutter in exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes survey your room and he finds traces of you that he’s missed as he rubs your back lovingly like he has all the time in the world.

Your hands cup his face, making him look at you, and he surrenders himself to you as you pull him into a kiss. He’s a ticking time bomb about to detonate in your arms. The warnings that Kronos is beating into his head is nothing compared to the pain of knowing he won’t be with you for much longer. And he kisses you like he could save you from his blaze by doing so, lips and tongue and shattered breath saying I’m here, and this is real. Maybe your worst vice is not being able to wean yourself off the taste of him.

“Tell me what I need to hear. Even if it’s not true…Even if you’re not real,” you say between gasps, and your position on his lap makes him wonder why he’d ever give the world up and burn it down when it’s sitting right here and staring at him with violet eyes.

“It’s always going to be you and me. I’ll love you until the end of my days and then some.”

You laugh in the way that drives him crazy—though he already is, for loving you still. Luke lost all sense of himself when he left camp four years ago. All that remains is you, pushing him so that his back hits the bedspread. He lets you consume what’s left of him, and he’s on fire.

You wake up the next morning with a jolt. It’s still winter, and you’re still alone but despite the chill, you feel warm.

ii. autumn years (with a familiar visitor who finally shows up on time)

Knock, knock.

There’s someone at the door, but your date isn’t supposed to be here for another 10 minutes.

“Babe, someone’s here for you!” your roommate Jo calls out, and you tell her it’s fine to let them in.

The pantyhose clings to the lotion on your thighs and you fix the bracelet on your wrist, stepping out from the bathroom hollering, “You’re early, Kit! Don’t tell me you’re skipping to the good part; I’m a lady i–”

“Who’s Kit?”

Luke’s standing in the doorway of your bedroom and his eyes flit to the reflection of your naked back peeking through the undone zipper of your dress. You look stunning, lips painted red and eyes smoky, but you’re also furious. Too bad he’s always thought you looked extra hot when you’re mad.

“None of your business. As you can see, I don’t exactly have the time for this, Castellan.”

He shrugs, closing the door behind him gently and with the raise of his brow, Luke is leering at you like a teenage boy. Respectfully, of course. The glint of celestial bronze against his hip reminds you who he’s become though.

“I’ll make the time if you say the words, Trouble.”

Sighing, you step forward, but then he does that thing again from the last time you saw him out on sea, twisting the crick in his neck like he has to resist your touch.

“You’re still funny. Some old habits die hard I guess,” you scoff, turning and lifting your hair out of the way so that he can zip you up. He opts to not touch you, sliding the dress closed until it fits against your body. You think you can feel his fingers ghost above your skin, and goosebumps rise where he leaves and his breath is warm on the back of your neck.

“Leave your weapons at the door. I run a tight ship, unlike you.” 

Gliding away from him while his hands are still in the air, you turn and sit at the edge of your bed, crossing your legs as you nod at him. Luke picks up the pair of heels next to where he sets the sword against the wall, and like it’s nothing out of the sort, he gets on his knees. You offer a foot to him while he speaks, “I could tell by the taser on your bedside table. You’ve killed monsters before, why a taser?”

There’s freckles on his tanned cheeks and he smells like the sun. You wonder what he’s done to come see you tonight.

“I’ve found out that not all monsters are mythical. When…are you?”

His eyes dart away from yours, securing the buckles on your ankles, and his touch sears through the mesh of your pantyhose.

“A few months ahead.”

There’s an eyelash on his nose, and your finger reaches out to touch it, but he flinches away. Face pulling into a frown, you spit, “You never slow down enough to let me catch up with you, huh?”

You can hear the microwave whirring in the kitchen, your roommate none the wiser of the sound of two hearts breaking. The both of you suddenly realize this is the first time you two have been alone (and the same age) since he left camp. There’s a silent question of if it will ever happen again as he gets up from the floor.

“So you’re seeing other people. Must’ve been easy, h—”

You punch him in the face before he finishes speaking, and all he can do is laugh. You would never let him off so easily.

“Fuck you. What, you think you can just hop in here and act like everything’s okay? What do you want, Castellan? For me to grovel at your feet and beg for you to fix what you broke?”

And you’re right, he supposes. This is the closest to peace that you’ll get in this life you’ve created without him. He won’t be able to take you on nice dinner dates like Kit can, or hold your hand without feeling like fate is going to smite him for existing. You scoff at the lack of his response.

“What happens next?”

Luke watches you chew on your lip, and even if he shouldn’t touch you in fear that you’ll will away his reason for defecting, by the gods does he want to.

“What do you mean?” he mutters. The cord of his necklace is tucked into your dress now that he looks closer.

“If I’m right,” you say (and it’s rare that you’re not), “each version of you that comes to see me knows less, and each time I see you I learn more. You were 23 last time. Why didn’t you see me at 22?” You know he won’t have an answer, but this is the only time you’ll be able to ask the real him. The one that’s yours, just a few steps ahead.

“There’s already been a lot that’s happened since I last saw you.”

“Are you going to hurt me?” you offer him, like he hasn’t already. He can feel the bruise blooming on his cheekbone and he grimaces with what he’s about to say.

“Never intentionally. I’ll try not to.”

It sounds stupid coming out of his mouth and you feel stupid with how empty you feel just watching him. He’s made a home of you, choosing moments in time to visit, but when he inevitably leaves, then what? Luke taught you how to be a home, forgetting you exist until it’s convenient and now there are things about yourself that you can’t unlearn yet don’t know what to do with.

Your roommate knocks on your door asking if you want a shot of vodka before your date starts, and Luke is already walking towards it since he’s overstayed his welcome. He raises his sword to open a portal but you shake your head.

“Go out the way you came,” you swallow, fiddling with the copper pendant around your neck, “and take the purple umbrella in the hall. It’s raining outside.”

When you walk into the kitchen moments later, the front door shuts gently and Jo’s sitting at the table with a mouthful of ramen noodles.

“Is he warming up the car? Your date’s hot as fuck, babe,” she grins, steam coating her glasses.

Knock, knock.

Your phone buzzes and there’s another knock at the door. Kit is 15 minutes late.

iii. auld lang syne (ringing in the new year with an old friend, or more)

Your apartment is filled with friends and acquaintances, but who the fuck cares anyway? There’s 10 minutes to midnight and you’re crossed out of your mind. Holding onto a half-empty bottle of prosecco, your heels clomp over to the window in the living room as you crawl onto the fire escape. 

Clack, clack.

The air is chilly as you hug yourself, and you hear someone step out onto the stairs behind you. 

“What are you doing out here alone?”

You sigh, not even turning to look at him, “What are you doing here, period?”

He takes the bottle of prosecco out of your hands, making you swivel your head to look at him as he takes a big gulp. He’s younger again, and it makes you laugh at how fucked up your luck must be to never be able to see him when you want. It’s always been on Luke’s terms.

“You’re too young to be drinking that,” you drawl, knees bumping against his when he takes a seat next to you. Long Island is quiet at night, and the lack of city lights is nice when you can see the stars so clearly. Music blares through your JBL speaker in the living room, and the sound of cheers gets louder when The Neighborhood starts playing.

“We used to do worse,” he laughs, but something in it sounds hollow. The breeze picks up and you shiver, taking the bottle back from him and swigging it.

“All these visits…you sure do know how to make a girl feel special. But you never come in the summer.” 

He clears his throat, before leaning back on his elbows, “ I haven’t gone a summer without you since we were 14.” This Luke doesn’t know what’s ahead of him yet, but you realize that he’s right. Even now, he keeps up the habit of pissing you off and raising hell on Camp Half-Blood every summer. You notice he’s not wearing his camp beads, and he notices you shiver again in the chill. 

Clack, clack.

Your heels rattle the metal of the fire escape as you readjust your position. He takes off his jacket to sling it around your shoulders and neither of you realize you’ve missed the countdown until fireworks burst in the sky above you. The red and blue reflect off the planes of his face, but what stands out to you is the orange of his shirt, and you comprehend now where he just came from.

“I had to see you. I didn’t get to say goodbye when I left,” he says, and you take another sip before handing him the bottle to finish off. The only new years’ kiss you’re getting is through the lips that hold the last remaining drops of prosecco. 

You nod, remembering it all too well as you both watch the fireworks in silence. He wasn’t able to watch them properly the last time he was with you, Annie, and Percy just a few hours prior.

iv. spring cleaning (only big days are ahead for the both of you) 

It’s quiet in your college apartment this morning. 

The moving boxes are half-packed and stacked against the wall of the entryway and the smell of freshly brewed coffee in the French press on your kitchen counter permeates the air. Perhaps the idea of caffeine is the last thing on your mind, hands twitching as they smooth over the black polyester of your graduation regalia. There’s a few hours still before the ceremony, but you’ve never liked being unprepared. Pollux is driving your dad down the Island because despite the war you’ll inevitably be fighting in once you cross the stage and get your degree, D specifically told Zeus that he’d wage another if he was made to miss your big day.

Parting your hair to fit under the ugly graduation cap, the tassel swings in front of your face as you grab a few bobby pins from the side table. A golden medallion of Castor’s smiling face almost whips into your cornea and you stifle a laugh. D said in his Iris message last night that all three of them would cheer so loud you’d be able to hear it from Elysium (and honestly, jokes aside—he probably has a way of making that happen). A staggered breath leaves your lungs, and you’re filled with anticipation, though you’re not sure what for. 

Time is a thief and you know that too well by now. After all, you’ve spent the past four years running from the truth of your heritage—dodging monsters between study sessions and grief welcoming you every time you come home. Four years later, and who are you trying to fool? While walking across that stage later you might as well take a bow. After all, your ex-boyfriend is the reason why there’s going to be a war of both blood and ichor, mortal and undying and still, you find yourself in the middle of it. You’ve found yourself fielding questions this last semester like dodging celestial bronze, the questions always a little too close to home and the answers you give are too entertaining to be considered the truth.

So, what are your future plans? 

Oh no big deal, just going home and dealing with generations-old family drama. If it drives me crazy enough I might enlist! 

Gods. 

How do you even articulate that these past few years were those future plans? That you didn’t expect to be alive this long, much less have the comfort of feeling secure enough to dream… It’s been years since you’ve had a good dream to work towards with a boy you once knew holding your hand through it all. But the expensive piece of paper you’ll be receiving later feels fake somehow. 

Who does that belong to? Surely not you…surely, someone who dreams without bearing the weight that comes with it. Someone who doesn’t have to look over their shoulder everytime they walk to work in the mornings, who can convince children that monsters aren’t real without having to lie. Psychology was a great field to learn from the mortal side of things—to know the reasons why brain chemistry affects us so deeply instead of just willing it away with the touch of your fingers. You like making people feel better. But who can ever do that for you?

A gust of wind sweeps through your room, the multicolored tassels hanging off your neck swaying from the force and you shut your eyes knowing he’s there again. Citrus and musk, and something that’s just him. He knocks over your hamper, cussing under his breath until his eyes follow your motionless figure in front of the mirror.

“Shit. I can explain, um… I thought you’d still be asleep,” Luke sputters, his converse falling into your laundry pile like quicksand. He bends over, stuffing your pajamas and sweatshirts back into the bin with fidgety hands as his eyes take a quick scan of your room. There are no pictures of you and him on the bedside table. For a moment, he wonders what that means but then his cheeks redden when he picks up a pair of your lacy underwear. He shoves that down too.

“Big day today. You know I can’t sleep when I know something is about to happen,” you smile wistfully, and you keep your eyes shut for longer, because like this, it’s almost like he’s actually there in real time. In a world where things went your way, this would be his apartment too, and his clothes would be scattered around your shared bedroom like how they used to back in cabin 12. You always used to put them on The Chair, as he would call it—but Luke’s known to make a mess of your life regardless of your efforts.

“When isn’t there? Something’s always going on when you’re around, Trouble.”

Click. Scattered memories flicker in your head like images through a view-finder, spinning through your vision as you hear the sound of his laughter, gently tapping away at your heart again. Click. In the ones you pre-selected, he’s draped in sunlight, honey eyes sweet and kind, and his kisses are perpetual instead of an indulgence. Click. He’s always wearing faded orange, worn-out, but most of all well-loved. Click.

You open your eyes and they meet his own in the mirror. Time stops for once, letting you catch your breath.

Right now, he looks just as you like to remember him, as you knew him four years ago. Multicolored camp beads are resting easily against his broad neck instead of weighing him down, and he’s wearing the red converse his dad gave him. He’s too young, and so in love with you that it blinds him, but even then…now, he knows the look on your face and it makes him ask, “It’s not my first time visiting you is it?”

“You’re usually more discreet, the door right behind me wouldn’t have been your first option. But you’ve never failed to surprise me before. Tell me about your day, Luke.”

A hesitant smile crosses his face as he sheathes Backbiter against his hip, adjusting under the weight like he’s not used to it yet, and then he speaks, “We ate strawberries in the fields today, straight off the vine, but I argued that the ones you conjure will always taste sweeter to me. You smushed one against my face and I carried you home. You?”

You nod, turning around to face a ghost of your past, and the both of you meet in the middle only a hairs distance away as you admire each other.

“I graduate today. Annabeth’s driving up with her boyfriend and the rest of my family is coming to celebrate.”

He doesn’t know of Percy yet, of Chris’ insanity, of your brother’s death, and the immense hurt he’s caused everyone. The smile that lights up his face makes you realize he thinks he's still a part of this—with you. And you miss him—even when he’s right here, fuck, you miss all the versions of him that have come to visit, even the ones you don’t know of yet. Tears brim your waterline as you take a deep breath; the last thing you want to do is scare him away.

“This was his promise to me. By showing me something I was sure of—and I always knew you’d graduate and make it big. Wanted to see it for myself, baby,” he grins, tangling his fingers with yours like your strings of fate, and though you know the answer to your next question you still take a chance, just in case.

“If I tell you what’s happened since…you. Would it be too late to change your mind?”

“Trouble, do you want me to? Kronos’ plan is already set in motion. I think…” he swallows, and your vision blurs without your permission as tears start to fall. Through the film over your violet eyes, Luke frowns and pulls your fingertips to his lips, kissing each one. He hasn’t done that in years.

“Did I make a mistake? Do I lose you, in the end?”

“Angelface…” you sniff, leaning your cheek against his hand, “You were so scared of losing me that you didn't even stop to think of what losing you would do to me. I lost you so long ago, Luke. And you’re not mine anymore. I don't think you have been in a long time.” In these heels, your forehead is closer to his lips so he kisses that too, hoping that somehow this time he can will away your pain instead of his. He doesn’t know what to do but hold you until you say something again.

“I’ll tell you something you need to hear. And no matter what you say or think, babe—it’s the truth. Even without all the glory in the world I would still be yours. I still am, even if I can’t bear it.”

Though he’s holding you, it somehow feels like the opposite—a purer version of him in your embrace while he holds the broken pieces of you together with his golden touch. Right now, you look into honey instead of gold. The both of you look at each other in the mirror melded together like kintsugi, something good still shining through the cracks of you two together like this.

The sound of keys jangling in the lock of the front door lifts you from his embrace, and with one look you both know its time for him to go; Luke’s brows furrow as he mutters, “I’m sorry. I’ll fix this, and we’ll be together. I promise.” You nod anyway, hoping at least one of you believe it.

“Go home, Luke. She…I still need you. I’m always gonna.”

He’s already got Backbiter in hand and one foot through time when he looks back at you. Your voice sounds a lot like how it does when you tell him you love him. Luke wonders how long it’s been since you did. Your bedroom door opens with a bang and some laughter.

“Hey troublemaker, you left the dryer on! All your clothes are gonna shrink,” Jo grins, peeking her head through the doorway of your room and she’s looking at you in your graduation gown standing there alone.

“Were you on the phone? Who were you talking to?”

It’s quiet in the apartment again. Your fingernails make indents in your palms, bunching up into fists before you let go. A sad smile crosses your face as you let the settling wind kiss your cheeks, before reality kicks in and everything settles back to how it was before. 

“Just someone I used to know.”

—

“And no one can ever figure out what you want, and you won’t tell them, and you realize the one person in the world who loves you isn’t the one you thought it would be, and you don’t trust him to love you in a way you would enjoy.” -Richard Siken

luke taglist (some won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?)

1/2 luke taglist: @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko@bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303  @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r@visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri

[xxblairexxss]

Pastries

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Angst / Fluff

I got carried away and it might be too long for your liking sorry about that! Not proofread!

Charles had asked you to tag along for his interview. It was a casual one. Even the whole set up looked less kind of a formal one and more like a hang-out amongst friends kinda vibe. He had promised to take you out to try the new bakery that had just opened this month and took over the social media the next second they started receiving customers but the invitation for the interview came in last minute and his team had already accepted the offer before asking him since they thought it shouldn’t be a problem considering the fact that he’s on a break.

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“What about the bakery? You promised me last week we could go there…” You hated to be the kind of person but Charles had promised you that he would leave out all work related stuffs and became your full time boyfriend for the weekend but all your hopes were crushed when he told you about his last minute schedule. You had been looking forward to try the pastries you had seen on your tiktok, the pastries videos that you kept on sending to Charles so you knew which one to choose when you visited the bakery.

“I know, baby. The team told me last minute so I couldn’t say no.”

“Then can we go after the interview?” You had been laying on his chest, your legs all tangled up with his while you had the new episode of Black Mirror playing on the screen. Now that you knew you won’t be able to spend time with him this weekend, the new episode was no longer worth watching.

“I can’t. I got another thing coming right after the interview, baby.” Charles knew you would be sad when he told you about his schedule because he had already promised you and though he couldn’t see your face, you didn’t look up to see his face after he mentioned about the interview, he knew you were upset.

“Then what am I supposed to do? I have already cancelled my plan with my friend..” Charles’s gaze followed your figure as you sat up straight and turned to look at him. You looked so dejected and he felt so bad for being the reason behind it.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Charles sat up along and placed his hand on your neck to plant kisses on your sulky face to which you tilted your face away and scooted away with your arms crossed. “Ouch, that hurts.” He tried to lean in for another attempt on kisses but failed when you leaned away again. “Baby, come on..I’m sorry, okay? I know I made a promise but I can’t not go to the interview or I’ll get in trouble. What if I bring you along? You can take over Andrea’s role.” He placed his hand on your cheek to move your face so you were looking at him.

“Will that be okay?”

“Of course. I don’t think there’s anything wrong having my beautiful girlfriend with me. Does that mean I’m forgiven now?” Charles tilted your chin so you would look him in the eye.

“Fine..”

“Can I get my kiss?” He slanted closer to catch your lips and you covered his lips with your palm. “Baby, this is an abuse.”

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When you and Charles arrived at the set, Charles had introduced you to every of the staffs. You had been together for more than 2 years but you rarely tagged along for any other schedules unless during race week. You didn’t really think it was necessary for you to go unless if you were to show your support for him.

You were sitting along the staffs, watching your boyfriend answering questions here and there while scrolling on your phone but one question pricked up your ears.

“Being Charles Leclerc, does that mean you can get all the girls you want?”

You looked up and saw he was trying to laugh away the question. “I don’t need any other girls. I’ve got the girl of my dream right there.” He pointed at you and the interviewer just laughed along before moving on to the next one.

“Have you ever had any girls who threw themselves on you?”

“I bet your body count is high. How much do you think you could reach if you were single and not tie with one girl?”

“If you were broken up with your girlfriend by today, when do you think you can get her replacement. I don’t think it’ll be hard for you.”

“If someone ask to exchange their girlfriend with yours for a one night stand, would you say yes? Surely the girl wouldn’t say no for a one night stand with the Charles Leclerc.”

You were getting more and more uncomfortable. Sure, the first time he was asked the kind of question, you could take it as a joke but seeing the way the interviewer disrespecting you over and over again, there was no sane woman who would just stand there and let themself being spoken as if they were an item. Charles did very well dodging every questions but it was getting on your nerves how he could laugh and played along as if you weren’t being treated like a joke in front of these men so you stood up and gave an excuse you needed to take an emergency call before walking out of the set. Charles’s eyes were trailing on you as he saw you leaving.

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“Baby, what’s wrong?” He took a seat by your side after they were given a short break.

“What’s wrong? Are you being serious right now?”

“What? I don’t get it.” Charles replied and you could sense a hint of dubiety in his tone as if you were a mad person for suddenly reacting this way.

“How could you not get it, Charles? They freaking disrespected me over and over with those questions and it never once occurred to you that they were treating me like an item?” You stared at him in incredulity.

“They were just joking. You can’t even take a joke now?”

“Oh, I can’t take a joke? You called that a joke? Try to have people talking about my body count and they told you how every guys could bang me if they wanted. Is that funny to you?” You sworn he was asking to be slapped in the face with the way he looked irritated right now.

“You are overreacting, Y/N. You can’t take everything seriously.”

“Are you hearing yourself right now? I was being disrespected how can you—“

“This is why I didn’t want to bring you along with me.” That did it. You went from wanting to explain from your side to just shut your mouth as you stood up and took your stuffs.

“I didn’t even asked you to bring me with you.” You could feel your eyes getting teary and not from misery of what your boyfriend just said, you were infuriated because he didn’t even bother to listen from your side and instead just turned it around and made it seemed as if you were the one at fault.

“Yeah, you didn’t ask me to bring you along but you were also the one who was so morose because I didn’t bring you to get that stupid pastries.” Charles stood up and scowled at you.

“Fuck you.” You immediately stormed away before he could see your tears slipping off and trailing your cheeks. You could hear him calling out your name but chose to ignore it. You hated how the argument went from you complaining to your boyfriend how you were being insulted to your boyfriend made fun of the things you told him.

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You were planning to grab a taxi and head home but decided to search for any bakeries that you hadn’t tried yet and the closest was 20 minutes away. You would have gone to the bakery that Charles had promised to bring you only if it was still opened. You hadn’t had any chances to explore Maranello that much even after being here for the countless times. The scenery, the buildings, the markets and foods were very distracting that you ended up playing tourist around the area.

In the meantime, Charles had to continue the interview and acted as if he didn’t just made his girlfriend upset 30 minutes ago. He tried to ring your phone but of course, all of them were declined.

“Charles, you ready?”

“Yeah? Yeah, I am.” He put his phone away and took his spot back in the centre as the interviewer went back to his spot.

“Where’s Y/N?”

“Ah, she got some things to do.” Charles answered while trying to control his composure.

“Great, now we can talk like two single men.” The interviewer said as he took out his phone and cue cards to place it on the table.

“I don’t think so.” He awkwardly laugh and shook his head to the “joke”.

“Why not? We can talk about girls and sex. I was trying to control the topic in case she got uncomfortable but now that she’s gone, there will be so much more fun topics we could talk about. Something like what’s something you miss doing that your girlfriend didn’t allow you to do after you got into a relationship or if you were given a chance to ditch your girlfriend for a one night stand with any girl, who would it be. Nice topic to talk about, is it not?” The interviewer cackled, looking casual and laid-back even after what he had just said which caused Charles to placed his mic away and stood up.

“I don’t think I can continue this interview.” He was going to walk away when the interviewer stopped him.

“Why?”

“If you chose to continue this interview with those brainless questions then I won’t be able to do this.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my questions. If she found it offensive then that’s on her? Girls are always extra sensitive for something small.”

Charles scorned at what he just heard. He couldn’t believe he fought with you over something that was so obvious right from the start. “I refuse to associate with someone who doesn’t know how to respect my girlfriend. We are done here.”

Joris tried catch Charles to talk it out but he was gone in a blink without saying any words and he was left there so apologize on behalf of his friend.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

Charles spent 20 minutes looking around the area in case you were nearby as they had a restaurant and cafe not far away but you were not in sight so he went home thinking he would be greeted by your beautiful face but it was empty. He tried calling you again but none of the calls went through.

You had an enjoyable time of your life. It was as if you didn’t just cursed at your boyfriend and ignoring his phone calls like nothing happened. You went to a random small bakery that you saw on google, went to get an ice cream, and even ended up joining a balsamic vinegar tasting that you saw from a random website. It was nearly dark when you took a cab home looking all joyous and triumph.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“Where were you?”

“I was…” You looked away, unable to look at your enraged boyfriend.

“Don’t you know how worried I am? You couldn’t at least text me back so I know where you were?”

“I got carried away.” You started twiddling on your phone charm, still unable to look at him in the eyes. You weren’t actually planning to ignore him all day long but you were too busy taking pictures and videos of everything and you kinda forgotten that you have a worried boyfriend waiting for you at home.

“You got carried away doing what?

“Doing some stupid stuffs.” You rolled your eyes and tried to step aside to make your way to the room but Charles grabbed on your arms which jerked you back.

“What stupid stuffs are you talking about?”

“Just some stupid things, Charles. It’s not important.” You snatched your hand away and walked to the room.

“Are you seriously still on this right now? Can we talk without arguing, please?”

You saw Charles following you into the room and stood behind you as you placed all your items on the dressing table. You could hear him gave a long weary sigh when he realized this conversation was going nowhere, again. “I am a girl who loves to overreact and can’t take a joke, ain’t I? Gotta live up to the nickname.”

“Y/N, can we please stop arguing. I was agitated the whole day not knowing where my girlfriend went and she came home acting all fine as if she didn’t just ignore my phone calls and you ended up pulling a fight again.” He turned you around by your waist so he could look at your pretty eyes and you saw how jaded he looked like.

“I’m not trying to pull a fight for fun. I’m just upset, Charles….”

“Okay, then can we stop wrangling so I can properly apologised? Tell me what did I do that made you upset with me so I can apologise for every single one. I already know the reasons but I didn’t give you a chance to explain earlier so you talk, I’ll listen this time. No fighting, okay?”

You chewed on your lower lip and felt your throat tightening. “I was upset because you didn’t want to listen to my reasonings. You acted as if I was crazy for reacting that way. I’m upset before you turned the argument on me. Upset because it was as if I was a burden for joining you on the interview. Upset because you called things that we talked and planned about as stupid.” A sob escaped from your lips as you covered your face with shaking hands.

Charles pulled you into his embrace but you didn’t hug him back. Your hands were still covering your face. “I’m sorry…”

“All these times I always thought you would always got my back but I was so uncomfortable and I thought you would understand me but I was blamed for trying to make a scene.” Your words came out as mumble from having your face covered and you could feel his arms tighten around your figure, latching you in his embrace.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m sorry I said you were overreacting. I don’t know why I was too blinded to see him disrespecting my girl when it was happening right in front of me.” He broke the hug and stooped down to pull your hands away. “Let me see your pretty face.”

“And I’m upset because you called my pastries stupid. I know you gonna laugh because it sounds funny but I always thought I could talk about random things with you without having the fear of being judge.” Your lips trembled as you cried and wiped your tears every seconds, feeling like a fool now for crying over some foolish thing.

“Look at me, baby.” He stopped your hands from wiping another strand of tears and softly held your face. “I’m sorry if it sounded like I’m mocking everything you have ever told me. It wasn’t my intention. I was…frustrated and I ended up saying those things.” Charles pulled you back into his embrace and he could feel your body shook as you sobbed. “I’m really sorry, princess. What else should I apologise for?”

“Are you playing around right now?”

“I’m not! I genuinely wanted to apologize for every single thing.” He was quick to defend himself as you could feel him shaking his head.

“Did you….regret bringing me to the interview?”

“No, not at all. You know I didn’t mean that, don’t you? I like having you with me wherever I go.”

You stayed silent in his embrace and he stroked on your back until you were done crying and pulled away to find his green, captivating eyes. “Your eyes are all swollen now, baby.” He pecked on your eyes that were still wet from the tears. “Now that I’m done listening, don’t you think you got something to apologise to me too?”

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts and calls...”

“Please don’t do that again, okay? I was so close to lodge a police report for a missing person.” He sighed in relief. “Can you tell me where did you go today without us getting into another fight again?”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

You told Charles about everything you did whilst he was dying from stress that you were ignoring his calls as you sat on the vanity cabinet and Charles took off your makeup for you.

“And then I saw these kids eating ice-creams so I decided to get one for myself too.” You showed him the picture that you took. “They have lots of flavours!”

“Really? And what did you choose, baby? Must be pistachio again.” Charles had been staring the way you were too engrossed in your little storytelling and thought he might have fallen in love all over again. “Baby, you and your swollen eyes look so adorable.”

“I know.” You circled your arms around his neck and smiled cheekily. “Oh! And I saw puppies! Like a bunch of them!”

“Yeah? Were they cute?” He brushed his lips on your nose.

“They were so cute! And so small too! They were running around and chasing each other.”

Charles pecked on your nose again. “You should have brought me along to do those fun things together.” His arms was placed on both sides of your figure, trapping you in his arms.

“I know, but you were to busy entertaining that prick.”

“I ditched the interview.” He nodded even before you could double check what he just said.

“Why? What happened?”

“I don’t like the way he was talking behind my girl’s back.” He slanted and begin running kisses all over your face again. “Wanna go to the bakery you wanted to go tomorrow?”

“Can we?”

“Sure, why not. I’ll buy you the whole pastries to make up for my mistakes today.”

“That’s a bribery.”

[mourningsbane]

Okay this blog and the story has been circulating slowly in my head for days now and I feel like tossing out a theory because I never theorize but here I am

So. Tanglefern’s greatest mistake. I believe that he may have poisoned Honeyspring in some way. If not a direct poisoning, he was at the very least aware of and partially involved in Honeyspring’s rapid death. But I also think he was not aware she was pregnant. I do not know if the kits were not quite right because they were too early in development, some kind of curse stuff, or because of the poison/illness. Either way, it seems Tanglefern wished them no ill will due to the intense despair he felt when the crude surgery (is it surgery if on a corpse?) failed. Another note; I’m not fully sure Tanglefern meant for/wanted them to die. ‘There’s nothing more I can do for you’. And it seems very heavily implied that Rootstar ordered the c-section, which is where the ‘no respect for the dead!’ Line comes in from Bearface. Along with this, I’m like 99% sure Honeyspring and Flaildrizzle were in a romantic relationship and were planning to raise those kits together. Honeyspring looked so soft in her dream, maybe they were trying to look less spooky as to not scare Flaildrizzle?

I do not believe Honeyspring is ‘evil’. She is scared and oh so alone, and is lashing out because of it. She just wants help, as I believe that is what the messed up mouse is huffing at Tanglefern, and potentially Sweetkit too. Tanglefern even wonders why StarClan won’t take them, implying that in life she never did anything evil enough to warrant going to kitty cat hell. At least, not that Tanglefern would know. And, seeing how their mere presence is warping the prey, I think she could have killed Sweetkit if she wanted, but they didn’t.

A very out-there theory is that Honeyspring may have been kept from StarClan because of the rage fuelling the end of her life (towards Tanglefern?). In my opinion, she seems aware that her death wasn’t natural. Their first headshot reference says ‘I will never forgive you’ which I believe is specifically aimed at whoever orchestrated or at least played a part in her death. Her second reference says kind with a question mark in brackets, which means they were at the very least kind in life. Not being able to communicate with anyone, those who see her being terrified, not being allowed into StarClan, they must all tear at their mind and likely their overall stability. I honestly don’t think she’s as malicious as we seem to be getting led to believe.

This may also be me grasping at straws but with the ‘there’s something underneath the ground’ and the description of her disease-reeking blood seeping into the dirt floor I wonder if that’s something. Definitely not I’m reaching but meh it’s fun.

Finally, I’m not fully sure that, whatever Tanglefern’s involvement was, he intended for them to die. ‘Distantly, some raw part of him, carbed open like the body before him, realized it was all for nothing’ now while it’s likely this is just in reference to the c-section, I feel this could also be the fact Honeyspring died and may not have been meant to. There was some kind of plan, I’m just not sure what it was’

Basically a summary I believe Tanglefern had an influence in Honeyspring’s sudden demise but was not aware of the kits, Bearface was NOT happy about the c-section, Flaildrizzle and Honeyspring were a couple and going to raise those kits, Honeyspring wasn’t evil in life but is now losing stability due to being so isolated, and Tanglefern may not have intended Honeyspring to die. I may be super off I am not good at theories and it is very late. But hey. All in good fun.

Anyways giving Honeyspring a big hug I love them and she is spinning around in my brain like a rotisserie chicken 24/7

also omg sorry this got so long i got lowkey rambly here but my brain is going whir because oh my god this is so cool-

Worry not, I do not mind receiving long post! I, too, tend to get rambly when talking about things, so I certainly don't blame you. Plus, I love reading theories! It gives me insight into what people think, and I don't want any lore elements to feel like they came out of nowhere! <3

As for your theories, you are very close! Tanglefern gave Honeyspring Mourningsbane instead of Clottingroot when treating the injury on her hind leg.

Honeyspring and Flaildrizzle were mates, and you're right that Honeyspring tried to look "softer". The time is soon, and Honeyspring didn't want to startle her. Honeyspring is weak and intangible at the moment, but not for long. And you're on the right track with her "disease-reeking blood seeping into the dirt floor"; her rotting body taints the very soil.

I agree that Honeyspring is not a villain in the stereotypical sense! She was very well-liked in life, and had a lot going for her! I would say that she's both a victim and a perpetrator.

[blondehya]

GIRL I NEED MIZU BEING A BULLY IN COLLEGE (she actually isn't, it's just rumors because of her aura, people are kinda scared of her) she's like tall, arm with tattoos, rides a motorcycle, sunglasses, leather jacket, WHO WOULDN’T BE SCARED????

So she has a secret crush on reader (who is also a little bit afraid of her based on the rumors) who is the complete opposite of her. So Mizu tries to be kind (even though it's hard and she's a nervous mess)

⊹₊｡ꕤ˚₊⊹ 𝐮𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mizu x fem!reader

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: OMG BEST REQUEST I’VE EVER RECEIVED I LOVE YOU SO MUCH 😭

you were at that school long enough to know the single most important thing: stay away from mizu, always, that girl means problem.

many people believe that she is respected a lot, but she is just feared. being a tall girl, tattooed arms, and driving a motorcycle is enough to make people’s head going down while she passes. who wouldn't be afraid?

“hi, excuse me. i’m here to bring my absence certificate from friday.”

“hello sweetie! give me a minute.”

you wait patiently for the inspector to sort things out, and before leaving he calls you.

“wait, your geography teacher had to leave, so you should go to the history class right now. hush, it already started.”

you thank him and run in a clumsy way to the history classroom, and calmly open the door.

“please, come in. you can sit with mizu right there.”

everything seemed to go in slow motion. the slightly laugh of some students, and the pitying faces of others. of course, the chair with her had to be the only one free! you approach and sit down, apprehensive.

the thought of looking at her flashes through.

come on, say hi or make a sign so you don't get into trouble with her later!

you move your head towards her, smile and nods trying to say hello. she just looks at you and returns her attention to the teacher seconds later. what if she didn’t liked you?!

oh, for sure i am in trouble… what if that sign means something rude in her country?!

the teacher starts to speak again.

“since this material is over, let's ask some review questions to see if everyone understood.” she pauses for a second. “you know what? i will pick according to the numbers on the attendance list.”

several students sigh in sadness. you feel relieved in fact, you studied a good part of the content. you quickly look at mizu, she looks like a statue... wow!

“who is number… eighteen?”

“me, miss.”

the boy stands up in his chair and waits for the questions. he responds clearly and satisfies the teacher.

“number seven?”

being taken out of my thoughts, i stand up confident and i look at the teacher smiling.

“paleolithic japanese incorporates the oldest known polished stone tools in the world. this technology is associated with the beginning of the neolithic, which takes place in what time?”

fuck you, fuck me, fuck everyone! what kinda of quest is that?!

“ah… it’s b.c right?” her expression changes. several students start whispering and laughing at you.

my heart starts racing and i feel like i'm going to fall ov—

huh?

did mizu just pushed her leg against mine?

she wants me to get distracted and fail at everything! i’m just gonna ignore it.

but why is she placing both hands clearly open on her thighs…

it couldn’t be…

“ten thousand before christ…?”

“yes! correctly lady!”

you sit in the chair again but in disbelief, happy with the teacher’s smile. your gratitude hides all the thoughts that previously hovered in your mind, so you get close to mizu and whispers:

“thank you so much, i owe you one for saving me.”

for the first time she looks at you and... and smiles... mizu can actually smile, and what a beautiful vision you think.

“it’s nothing. no need to thank me.”

her voice is actually so pretty… it has nothing scary. why would people call her scary?

you think to yourself.

the class continues without worries and finally comes to an end.

“bye, mizu!” you say in a joyful tone. you were proud to know now that she wasn’t that scary bully monster everyone calls her.

“ah, wait a minute, please. you were the only person who talked with me in ages. so… you don’t find me weird or anything…?”

“i was a fool influenced by rumors. you are a good person, mizu. i am sorry for everything.”

ah…

why is she BLUSHING?!

“haha… good to know...” she scratches her head nervously. “so, do you want my number? like, so we can talk more, not that i want to ask you out. in fact, i want to! but not now.”

you look at her surprised, she is a real mess.

“i’m so sorry… you were the only one who talked to me without that strange scared face. i thought we could at least extend it more.”

“of course we can!” you smile brightly to her.

you two exchange numbers and start to get close, very close to a level where she picks you up and drops you off at home every single day.

“hello dove, it’s cold today. hold on tight.”

you do as she says. mizu’s body is bigger and of course more warm, it’s like your own big plushie to squeeze and hug. also… it’s no longer a secret anymore! everyone at school knows you two are inseparable forever.

“taigen asked me if we are dating…” you declare this, lying on her chest on the lawn.

“how could he?” she puts her leg over yours.

[darthgloris]

2AM THOUGHTS #6: Anakin confesses to Y/N on accident

"Okay, what the fuck was that for?" Anakin demanded as he closed the door behind them.

"What do mean? I was protecting you!" She defended.

"And I was protecting you! You nearly died!" He yelled, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I don't need you to protect me, Anakin! I'm not a child!" She snapped, crossing her arms. "It was for the sake of the mission, all right? If I have to die for the cause, then so be it."

Those words seemed to make something click inside him. The fact that she would even think that some mission was more meaningful than her own life made his blood boil. He sauntered over to her, a flash of anger in his eyes that had never been directed at her scared her a little, and she walked backwards until her back hit the wall. "Don't you dare say anything of the sort ever again."

The small tinge of fear in her eyes as he looked down at her made his face soften and guilt took over him. The last thing he ever wanted was to make her fear him, and he felt disappointed in himself for treating her like this. He'd die for her, they both knew that.

He shook his head and sighed, stepping away from her. "Look, you're not less valuable than the Order. And you're certainly not going to try and protect me again."

"I'm always going to try to save you. There's nothing you can do to stop me. If you didn't do so many reckless things, maybe I wouldn't have to!" She replied, hands on her hips as she looked at him sternly.

"Then I'm not going to stop trying to protect you!"

"Why?! You're a Jedi, you're a General now, there are so much more important things at stake than my life right now!"

"Well, I’m sorry I fell in love with you, okay?! But it happened and I can’t do shit about it!" He yelled and the words reverberated in the room as he froze. Y/N also paused, her breath shaking as the words sunk in.

"You… what?" She breathed out, shocked.

"I- I- uh... I didn't mean to say that..." he stuttered out, terrified of her reaction. If she left him, he wouldn't be able to live with himself, and Ahsoka... Maker, he couldn't even imagine how heartbroken she'd be.

"Is it not true?" She asked, her brain barely registering his words.

"No, no, it is, I just..." he sighed mid-sentence, burying his face in his hands to avoid looking at her. "I didn't want you to find out like this."

"Oh, stars..." she sighed, leaning on the table for stability. "How... when..?"

"Does it really matter?" He asked, tentatively stepping closer.

"I... wow. I mean, you..." she could barely put a sentence together. "Anakin Skywalker... with me?"

"Of course I am. You're amazing," he said, tipping her chin to make her meet his eyes. "You're smart as a whip, you're kind, you're caring, you're beautiful, and, Maker, you're so great with Ahsoka that she almost loves you more than me, heh. I mean, how can anyone not want you?"

"Oh, Anakin..." she said, her heart swelling at his words. "You're so sweet. No man has ever treated me as well as you do."

"Really..?" He asked. His brain failed to comprehend how anyone could ever treat her with anything but love and respect.

"Yes. You're just so thoughtful, you remember the little things about me, and Maker, you melted my heart when I bled through my robes and you gave me your cloak to cover it up. I mean, every other guy just got grossed out and walked away." She recalled, cupping his cheek and nuzzling her nose with his.

He sighed shakily as he felt her breath fanning over his face. He was dangerously close to her, and he knew that he didn't have enough self-control to resist kissing her. "Um... may I?"

"Please." She whispered. He gave her a soft, gentle kiss on the lips that encapsulated all the pent-up feelings he harboured for her. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers, slowly opening his eyes to look at her with lovestruck eyes.

"Was that okay?" He asked, caressing her face.

"It was perfect, Ani." She said and pulled his lips back to hers. He squeaked adorably in surprise and helped her hop onto the table, sliding between her thighs as he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her closer.

She couldn't get enough of him, and he certainly could never get enough of her.

Ahsoka was going to be thrilled.

[farfromstrange]

Customer Service | Matt Murdock

Pairing: Matt Murdock x afab!reader

Summary: After a particularly rough week, all you want to do is cry. It has you on edge and makes you say things you don’t mean. After letting out your anger on your boyfriend, he makes it his mission to take care of you for a change.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI, oral (f receiving), Matt Murdock eats pussy like a champ, fingering, squirting (I feel filthy), emotional hurt/comfort, no use of y/n, no pronouns, reader has female body parts, 1st person pov (?)

a/n: As someone who quit their job in customer service for the exact same reasons I have stated in this fic, this is very personal to me and self-indulgent, again. I wrote this after a particularly bad day. Sometimes I wish Matt were real so he could actually do this to me.

There is nothing in all of existence that I loathe more than people. Why I chose to work in customer service in the first place has become more and more of a mystery to me. I could have quit after the first week, I should have, but whenever the thought crosses my mind, I tell myself: ‘It’s going to get better. You will get used to it.’ I did not, in fact, get used to it. Or, I did, I just started to hate myself even more. Every day I get home from an eight-hour shift, I’m tired, I’m exhausted and I feel the desperate need to throw myself off a cliff. 

There are days when it’s easier. The elderly couple who comes in every Sunday, for example, to drink their coffee and have a lengthy conversation over a piece of cake, never fails to make me smile. They’re always kind, and forthcoming and they tip, even though I know they don’t have the money to.

Or the woman who likes to pick up lunch for her husband, she always calls me sweetheart, and she’s never bothered if her order takes just a little too long. The regulars chat me up and I like it because it makes me feel less alone behind the counter, as life passes me by and I can’t help to stare at the clock every five minutes to calculate how many hours of the day are left. They make it easier to forget about the overtime I inevitably have to put in every night. They know I don’t eat enough or smile enough or drink enough, and so they make me smile because they’re good people. 

But some continuously want to tell me how to do my job, the one I’ve given blood and sweat for to master down to the smallest detail, and those who treat me like I’m responsible for their bad days and those who don’t care that I’m human, I just have to serve.

It’s so exhausting that some people don’t care about the workers behind the counter. I hate that my boss doesn’t seem to care either, that we don’t get paid enough, and that I’m expected to jump whenever they want me to. I got a life too, but that doesn’t matter because I’m cheap and they love to use those who never learned how to say no.

I physically can’t tell them I can’t work whenever I’m asked to pick up an extra shift, or when I’m sick or have to do anything else. It’s not even my main occupation and yet, here I am! Every day, I tell myself, I should just quit. It’s not my responsibility if they can’t treat their employees right. It’s not my responsibility they’re understaffed. I’m a student, I go to college, and I’m working hard on my degree - why should I prioritize my job over the thing that will determine the rest of my life? 

And yet, every day, I go back. I go back and I work until my feet hurt and I’m sick and I’m tired and all I want to do is just cry. I go back because I, for the life of me, can’t say no. I can’t quit. I want to, but I can’t, and it’s killing me inside that I can’t talk about it the way I want to. In the end, I will always feel like everything is my fault and that I messed up, even though all I did was show up to work and turn into everyone’s punching bag. 

My stupidity is what got me here. Usually, I would be home now, studying, but they asked me to pick up a late shift at the cafè again, and I worked for seven hours with only a fifteen-minute break in between - I look horrible, I smell of coffee and cake, and my body is hurting in all the wrong places. The weight is heavy in my stomach. I’m nauseous. I ate, but not enough. I’m hungry. I feel sick. Even the smallest sounds make me want to jump up the wall, kill someone, or perhaps even both. I’m angry, and I don’t even fucking know why because nothing happened. Other than a rather messy day with too much to do and too few people to do the work, the people weren’t even rude and I’ve had worse days - still, I feel everything at once and it’s ridiculous, really, because I’m an adult and I should know better than to let a rough day affect me. I don’t. 

When he called and asked if I wanted to come over, I said yes. I didn’t want to, but saying no? Not something I would do, especially not to him. I walked into his apartment with a lump already in my stomach. The door creaked - God, I told him to oil it - and that was the first strike. I tossed my key into the bowl and it promptly fell back out. Second strike. My coat slipped from the hanger the second I hung it up. Third strike. I breathed, I had to, then went to the kitchen to make some dinner. Cooking usually works, usually, but the day must have gotten to me because the fourth strike - the fucking milk being expired - happened way too soon and it hit me, hard. After that, I was pretty much done for, and I knew, I just chose to ignore it. 

Of course, I should have known I would screw up everything else, too.

“Hey, sweetheart,” his voice is kind and soft in my ear as he presses a kiss to my cheek. His stubble has never been something to bother me before until that very moment. I flinch away, not sure why. If he realized it - which I’m sure he did - he doesn’t show. 

“Smells good,” he says. 

I put the garlic into the pan. It smells too much like garlic and I hate it. 

“What you making?”

“Pasta,” I tell him. 

He kisses me again. “Mh-hm. How was your day?” the question is stupid, but it’s normal and he always asks. He gets himself a beer - only himself - removes the cap with his mouth and then leans against the counter. 

He shouldn’t infuriate me. He shouldn’t make me angry just by standing there and asking me questions couples ask themselves, but inevitably, he does. And I hate myself all the more for the way my voice sounds when I answer him. 

“Fine,” I say. 

“Fine?” he asks. “How was work?” I feel like he’s getting suspicious. “You only had two lectures today, right? English lit and what was the other one?”

“Linguistics.”

“Ah, yes. Your least favorite.”

Perhaps that’s why I’m angry. 

“You know,” he says and the tangent he goes on after revolves around him and only him, and while I don’t like talking about myself, that doesn’t mean he has to unload all of his stress on me - I don’t know why I think that way and it’s scaring me because I don’t actually feel that way, but at that moment I do and it’s all very confusing.

I just want to lock myself in his bedroom and cry. He looks so good with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up. He’s wearing his glasses, still, but his tie is loosened and he smiles because he knows I love that smile. I should love it. I should love the way his muscles tense underneath his shirt or the way his dress pants hang impossibly low on his hips, but for the first time, I don’t. I don’t love anything, I just feel anger, which makes me hate everything, but mostly myself. 

I must have zoned out. Suddenly, he’s calling my name and he’s calling me sweetheart and he’s poking me with his hands - no, he’s stroking my hips, hugging me from behind, and it’s all too much. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I lie. He knows I’m lying. He can hear it in my heartbeat. He can feel it in the way I move away from him to rinse the now-empty pan in the sink. 

How is the food already finished?

“You didn’t listen to a word I just said,” he dares to sound offended. 

“No, I did.”

“Really, what did I say?”

“You and Foggy had a case, didn’t go well, bla bla bla. Same as every day.”

He sets the bottle down. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s wrong? I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Oh, so just because I don’t care about hearing the same story repeat itself every day and you whining about it means there’s something wrong with me?”

He’s taken aback. Quite frankly, I’ve never snapped at him before, not like this, not out of nowhere, and we’ve been dating for over a year. With his super senses, there is little that eludes the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, especially when it comes to his girlfriend. I hate that it’s like this. I hate not having any privacy, even when I try to. But I don’t want to be alone, I don’t want privacy. Or, I think. I don’t even know what I want. I know I want to be around him, but at the same time, it hurts because the anger is too damn hot to swallow, and his concern doesn’t make it any better. It should be, but it’s not. I’m a lost cause. 

“I was just telling you about my day,” he says. I would yell back at myself if I were him, but he knows me. He knows yelling doesn’t help. He knows I’d cry, but maybe that’s what I want. Maybe I want him to yell just so I have a valid reason to cry, to be angry. 

I want him to hate me the way I hate myself. 

That’s why I can’t help it anymore. “Maybe I don’t want to hear about your day.”

“What?”

“The world doesn’t revolve around you, Matthew!”

He’s confused. I don’t blame him. The second the words left my mouth, I regret them. They make me sound like the most selfish person on the whole planet. I can’t take them back though. If I did, he’d know something is wrong and then he’d worry, he’d pity me and no, I don’t want that. I want to rile him up. I’m not sure why, but it makes me so angry that he’s so calm and I’m… well, I’m me, but I’m also not me. I’m a stranger in my own body. 

I put the pasta in a bowl. It stinks of alcohol and tomatoes and garlic, too much of it. I wonder how anyone could eat that. 

“Here,” I shove it into his hand, “You’ve been served. I’m gonna take a shower.”

I’m a bad person. I’m pretty sure I am. Who yells at their boyfriend because they can’t deal with their own problems? Who makes the person they love more than life itself feel like shit on purpose for no reason whatsoever? A sane person wouldn’t. We have never been a normal couple, Matthew and I, but we’re trying. Turns out, I suck much more than I thought I would.

It’s not the age gap, I’m sure of it. I’m in my last year as an English Major and he’s a defense attorney. Somehow, we make it work. He loves me, I know he does. He’s afraid of rejection - he thinks everyone he loves will leave him, which is why it took us a while to find together. I should have known my words were going to hurt him unimaginably. He thinks he did something wrong, but it’s not him. It’s never him. He’s damaged, but he’s nothing if not perfect to me, most of the time. 

I’m heavily crying at this point, trying to conceal my sobs, but it’s not working. The water is loud, not loud enough to fool Matt’s hearing, but even if he were to hear it, he knows better than to provoke me any further. He doesn’t know what’s going on and neither do I, so it’s just the two of us silently waiting for the other to come around. He shouldn’t have to feel that way. And so I cry more because God, I do not deserve that man. I don’t deserve his kindness or his love. I don’t. I really, really don’t. 

And once I’m out of the bathroom, I remember why I don’t deserve him. 

The table is set for two. Candles substitute for the harsh ceiling light. He knows it gives me headaches sometimes. He put a bowl out for me and a glass of wine. White wine. The sweet kind. The kind he hates but keeps around in case I ever need a glass. He’s drinking red wine. It’s cheap, but it looks expensive and he likes to feel special from time to time. 

I hug my arms around my body. He has his back turned to me, fixing a salad in the kitchen - I must have forgotten it. The way he moves is almost angelic. He moves as if nothing happened, as if I didn’t just treat him like a bitch. He’s singing my favorite song or humming it, anyway. The room smells of him and me and the food I loathed before, but watching him do all of this for me, even now, is sucking the air out of my lungs and suddenly, I don’t mind the thought of eating with him.

I only want one thing. I don’t want to ask for it and he’s not going to do anything unless I talk. We agreed on that from the beginning, no matter what kind of intimacy it involves. Without consent or a proper conversation, nothing will happen. And I curse myself for not being able to speak without the tears blocking my view again. 

“There’s a sweater on the couch,” he states. He knows I’m cold. “And some fuzzy socks, if you want.”

The clothes smell like him. 

“I put some more salt in the pasta. I think you forgot to salt the water, so I took it upon myself. I hope you don’t mind. Also, I tried to make your favorite salad dressing, but I’m not sure if I managed to get it right this time.”

He smiles and then his glasses are gone and he has an apron on and he looks like he loves me, really loves me, and that’s it. I pull my legs up to my chest, falling deep into the couch and I cry. All the pain just comes exploding out of me like an active volcano. 

The leather dents next to me. “Comfort or solution?” he asks. It’s so casual, I get the feeling he’s not mad at me. 

“I don’t know,” it sounds so broken.

His arm finds around my shoulder. “Is this okay?” I can only nod. Yes.

He moves me gently so I’m in his lap and he can rock me like a baby. It feels good to be loved like this, but it’s also suffocating. Still, I can’t help but fall deeper into his hold because this is, in fact, all I needed. Too stubborn to ask for it, I almost ruined something good. I know I did. He knows, too, but unlike me, he knows the difference between me being mad at him and being mad at the world. He knows I don’t mean what I say unless we’re fighting, and this isn’t it. We’re not fighting. I’m just angry and I want to cry, even while crying, and that makes me cry even more. 

“You want to talk about it?” he asks once I can finally breathe again. 

I blow my nose like a disgusting person and say, “Yes. No. I don’t know. Maybe.” And that about sums up all of my life. 

“Is it school?”

I shake my head. If it’s not school, it can only be one other thing. 

“Work?”

I nod. 

“Anything happen or just a bad day?”

“Bad day.”

“That’s why you yelled at me? I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“No,” I say truthfully for the first time. “I’m just angry. I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Maybe next time try telling me though. I was actually scared I did something until I heard you cry in the shower.”

I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I tell him that, to which he only chuckles. 

“You know how many times I acted hostile towards you after a long day?” he says. “It happens. It’s okay.”

“I just… I’m so stressed all the time. I hate work and I hate people and I hate not getting paid enough or on time, but I can’t quit because you know, I’m me and they know that, so they take advantage of my inability to say no, and it sucks because I’m so tired of working more than I go to school, but I need the money, and so I can’t leave until I’ve found another job, but no one else wants me, so now I’m here, trying to see the good in this stupid job, but I don’t. I can’t. I hate it. I hate everything and everyone and I hate myself and I think I’ll get my period soon because this should not be upsetting me this much.”

His hand on my back manages to soothe me. 

“Thank you,” I say, and I mean it.

He smiles down at me, all loopy, and his sightless eyes are focused somewhere on my forehead, which makes everything so much better. 

“I love you.”

And yes, I love him too. I love him so fucking much, it hurts. 

“I love you too, Matty.”

As soon as I say his name, he knows what I want. He knows I need to destress. He knows I can’t eat until I can forget. 

“Is there something I can do?” he asks, but damn him, he already knows. 

“Can you…” no, I can’t ask him for that.

“Yes?”

“Matt, can…” No. “You know what, never mind.”

“No, sweetheart. Tell me. What do you need?”

“I just…” my chest heaves a frustrated groan. “IneedyoutoeatmeoutuntilIcantremembermyname.”

He enjoys it. He gets off on it, my desperation. “Sorry, what?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did. Can you repeat that?”

“God.” My face is burning. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just, this is the first time you actually asked me and I love hearing you ask for the things you want. It’s sexy.” 

Somehow, that’s even worse. My thighs clench like I’m some pathetic little schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. 

“You know, maybe you can ask for a raise tomorrow, or quit altogether,” he says. “But for that to work, you have to tell me what you want right now.”

“I asked you to eat me out until I can’t remember my fucking name!”

“Thank you. Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

If there is one thing Matt Murdock is incredibly skilled with, it’s his mouth. And I don’t just mean the words that come out. Essentially, it’s all in his tongue. He’s managed to render me speechless on more than one occasion, and he knows. He knows I love when he touches me, but there are times when it has to be about me, and only me, and he’d gladly suffocate between my thighs. He’s told me that time and time again.

He keeps telling me to ask him if I want something. I never do. I hate asking for it because it’s embarrassing. It’s good that he knows what he’s doing, that bastard because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t be cumming and I wouldn’t tell him. Somehow he always gets the job done, no matter how stressed I am. 

That’s why I need it so badly. I need him to take care of me, no matter how long it takes. I know it might take a while because I’m tense and he knows too. He reads my body like an open book. That’s how he knows I’m horny before I even do. 

He doesn’t move for another minute. He just stares at me. “You want me to take care of you?” he asks.

“Please,” I beg. 

“Guess I’ll have dessert before dinner today then.”

He lifts my head and then he’s suddenly on top of me. He’s sliding me up the couch so he can fit in between my legs. I’m dressed in shorts, a t-shirt, and his sweater and for a second I wonder if it’s even worth it. I’m ovulating, I’m bloated. I feel like shit. My hormones are all messed up. I can feel the weight of my boobs tear on my back and I’m pretty sure the hairs on my legs prickle his cheek as he kisses them. It’s making me want to take back everything I asked of him. 

My confidence has taken a low blow this past week. 

Though Matt doesn’t care, he never does. He digs his nose between my thighs and takes the longest whiff I’ve seen him take in a while. To be fair, the last time we saw each other, he was busy with work. We didn’t have time for intimacy, which hardly ever happens. He moans. 

Smug bastard.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells me. It melts my heart. The compliment means so much more knowing he can’t physically see me. To him, I’m beautiful. He couldn’t care less about what I looked like. Although sometimes I wonder what picture he has made up of me in his mind. 

His lips are on mine fast. I can’t help but sigh. They’re so soft. He doesn’t rush, he just kisses me and then kisses me some more. I tangle my hands in his hair. I’m sure, this is what heaven must be like.

“Let’s take this off.” His sweater joins my shorts on the floor. “May I?” He hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of my panties. “Or do you want me to keep them on?”

I have no doubt he could do it with five layers in between and still make me cum.

“Off,” I say. I want this. I have to remind myself that my insecurities mean nothing – he loves me. He wants to do this for me. He wants to do this because he likes it, or else he would say it. 

Matt is vocal, but I’m not. If he doesn’t want to do something, he’ll say. Can’t say the same about me, which is why he asks repeatedly, even after I already told him it’s okay. He wants to make sure I’m on board, that I don’t feel pressured and can pull out any time I want, but I don’t, because the second the cold air hits my bare cunt, all I want is him. 

I can feel his eyes searching for me. “Hey,” he says my name. “We’re not playing this time, okay? You can cum when you need to and how many times you want to. You just have to lay back and relax. I’ll take care of you.” 

He intertwines our fingers on either side of my spread thighs before he dives into me. It’s slow and steady. He doesn’t care about fucking me with his tongue like he usually does. He licks and bites, but mostly, his tongue and lips stay around my clit and they suck. They suck so good, I see stars behind my eyes. His touch sends shocks down my spine. My sensitive walls clench around thin air, but his head is so far between my thighs, I still manage to feel full. 

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t focus. It feels so good, way too good, and on any other day, I would’ve come by now. His beard burns into the inside of my thigh as I rock against him. I try to, but it’s exhausting. I can feel the coil in my lower belly clear as day, and yet it’s too far out of reach. I need it, I crave it. 

I can hear myself saying, “This could take a while.” And he laughs because he finds it funny. It’s not funny though, it’s serious. I hate the fact that he makes me feel so good and I can’t find it in myself to enjoy. 

“Close your eyes,” his breath fans hot against my folds. “And just stop thinking.” 

He makes it his mission to ruin me. I close my eyes and as soon as I do, he’s on me. It’s not just his mouth. One of our joined hands reaches up to touch my breast – he twists my nipple through the shirt until it’s hard and has his attention. The other reaches behind me and lifts my hips. The next thing I know, he has me propped up on a pillow. The muscles in my lower back relax. I sigh. It’s so good. 

He’s given up on slow and steady. His head moves in circles as he abuses – I don’t have another word for it – my clit and eats the rest of me like a man starved. I realize I need it fast and I need it hard. He knows it before I do. His tongue expertly parts my wet folds, a mix of arousal and spit trickling down my thighs, but I could care less. He’s inside of me and then his thumb is there and it’s rubbing and rubbing and rubbing and I’m so fucking close, the knot in my stomach feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, and it’s applying sweet, sweet pressure on cunt. 

“Fuck!” I throw my head back into the leather. My back arches impossibly high, and his head squished tightly between my thighs. I need him closer. His hair is so soft, it makes me want to cry, and I do. I cry, but not in a sad way. I cry out because yes, God yes! and then I’m cumming, suddenly and without warning, hard, all over his face, and it doesn’t stop. He doesn’t stop.

The growl is animalistic. It vibrates perfectly through my pussy and I can’t help it – it barely takes two minutes until his lips start hurting so good as they keep sucking my clit, a series of ‘one more’ leaves his lips in a plea, and I’m rocking against him hard. I’m begging him, “Matt,” but I’m not sure what for. 

“C’mon,” he says, “you can give me one more.”

He’s right. God, I hate when he’s right. My toes curl and I push his face so deep into me, I’m convinced he’s running out of air, but that’s what makes him moan and it sends me over the edge.

I’m pretty sure I passed out. The pleasure is so intense, my stomach feels like it’s being torn apart and then put back together. The world is dark and for the first time today, quiet. 

Something nudges my cheek softly. It’s his hand. Matt kisses me and I can taste myself on his lips. “Hey,” he coaxes me back into lucidity. “There you are. Are you okay?”

I nod.

“You need anything?”

It’s a reflex, reaching for him. He gasps slightly when my hand touches between his thighs, expecting to find a visible bulge, but there is none. I’m not sure if it’s my mind playing tricks on me, but there is a visible wet spot where his dick is supposed to be. 

“Did you-“ I finally open my eyes. He looks so drunk in the candlelight. I realize then that he is drunk on me. 

He buries his head in my neck. “You’re not the only one who’s been worked up all week,” he says. 

“You just- oh, my God.” I never thought it possible that it could be enough for him. “Thank you.” 

“No, thank you. You’re always so good to me. Good girl. But I think-“ his finger steals my breath as it circles my entrance and promptly slips it inside of me. “You can cum for me again.” 

I arch into him. My chest brushes against his. Our shirts suddenly feel like too much clothing and I’m desperate, so I tear at the buttons until they come apart. He has his arm back underneath me, holding me flush against him as if he’s afraid I might slip away. 

A wanton moan escapes me. “That’s it,” and his praise is even better. “Think you can take another one?”

He adds a second finger. It burns but only because even after a year, I’m still struggling to take any part of him. His fingers are thick and they’re rough and they’re scratching my inside walls just right. They massage the flesh. He’s pumping his fingers in and out and in and out, and he adds his thumb back on my clit because he knows I won’t be able to cum without it.

All of the stress falls off my shoulders. I feel him everywhere, his kisses, his touch, his hard nipples against mine. He’s hard again, poking against my thigh. I reach for him and he whines, he whines into my mouth. I’m not sure which one of us will come first. I suppose it’s me, it’s always me. He makes sure it will be me.

He hits as deep as he possibly could. His fingers curl inside of me and then, “There it is!” Is so victorious, it makes my eyes roll back. He keeps hitting that particular spot over and over again. My hand clutches his shoulder. I want to scream, but all that comes out is a series of whined and pathetic moans. I can’t help it, my muscles contract around him. 

“Damn, you’re gonna break my fingers,” he says. His chuckle is breathless. “You close?”

I hum.

“Do me a favor,” and I expect him to tell me anything but what he requests, “Don’t cum.” 

It’s rude. It’s cruel and it’s vile and I want to murder him because just as he says it, the coil tightens impossibly tight and I need to let go. It’s painful to hold it in, especially now. But I do as he tells me nonetheless. I want to please him. 

“Matt,” I moan. He’s so unfair and he knows it.

He smirks. “Just hold on a little longer.”

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. I know you can.”

“St- oh, fuck!” He hits my sweet spot with twice the intensity. I almost cum, but only almost. I keep it together, no matter how much it hurts, and it’s making tears prick at my eyes. “Please, just let me cum,” I hate begging him. “Please, Matty.”

“Shhh. We’re almost there.”

His thumb speeds up. I can see heaven. God is reaching his hand out for me. My stomach is in a tight knot, so tight, the silk might rip any second. The pressure is unreal. My muscles have been trained by him, I admit, but nothing can prepare you for this. Nothing can prepare you for the times when Matt has his mind set on something and he’s going to take it. He’s going to take you. 

I can’t think. It’s too much. I know I’m going to disappoint him. The animal inside of me is beyond satisfied and she wants out. She wants to let go. She loves the feeling of his fingers buried to the hilt inside of her. She loves him, and loving him tends to turn into sweet, sweet torture.

I moan his name again. His cock twitches underneath his dress pants, hot against my fingertips. 

“Almost,” he promises. “I just want to try something.”

What could he possibly want to-

“Cum.”

I’m flying. My back lifts off the couch and if it wasn’t for him, I would be dead by now. My body is shaking. It’s earth-shattering and it’s wet and it’s everywhere. I can feel the orgasm tearing me apart from the inside, blood rushing in my ears. My senses go black. I can’t see, feel or breathe. Everything is too much. It’s burning, it’s heavy, but it’s amazing.

His fingers don’t stop until he has milked the last drop of me until even the last ounce of stress has left my body and I’m limp. I’m a corpse. I’m barely breathing, a wet sack of potatoes in his arms. 

God, the look on his face. He’s cumming too. The wet patch on his pants has doubled. It’s not from me, although I’m suddenly very aware of the fact of what he just made me do.

“Oh.”

“Fuck,” he growls. “That was amazing.”

I never expected to have it in myself. “Oh, Jesus.” My words are highly blasphemous but I don’t care. I’m not even sure how to feel. The blush creeps up my cheeks and I close my legs a little. Everything is so wet. It’s all me and some of him, but mostly me. Just spurts of cum all over his hand and his couch.

He clicks his tongue, shoving my thighs apart. “Don’t go shy on me now,” he says.

“No, it’s embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? Sweetheart, I’ve never felt more proud of myself.”

“I just- your couch. Oh, God.”

“I’m pretty sure the couch will survive it. Leather is easier to clean. How do you feel?”

I sigh, snuggling against his chest. “Better,” I have to admit. “Much, much better.”

“Good.” He kisses my neck. “Can I have my fingers back now?”

“No.” I like the feeling of him inside of me, even if it’s just his fingers. It makes me feel complete, almost. 

“Okay.” 

“Just gonna rest my eyes now.”

“You do that, sweetie. I’ll be here.” 

And he is. He always is. I wake up, and he’s there, and he always will be because he promised me this is forever. Us. Me and him. And I realize then that I’ve never been more in love with another person than I am in love with Matt Murdock.

[thebestofoneshots]

Hi love just wondering when the priest Remus fic will be out? I LOVE LOVE your writing and I am so excited for this one

I truly hope It's this Friday! Especially with the GC chapter we're going to have, I feel like you guys deserve a little compensation. If I can't manage though, it will surely be next week.

Now, and to build more excitement, a little teaser:

NO SWEETER INNOCENCE THAN OUR GENTLE SIN | TEASER

Pairing: Priest!Remus x reader Prompt: You did not want to go to church that day, but your spirits are uplifted when you meet Father Remus, and your mind starts creating a mischievous scheme, to both retaliate over those years of being forced to go and take something from them. Alternatively, R is really mad at the church and decides to steal one of their priests for it (but also kind of falls for him). Warnings: The complete story will contain smut. Innocence! Kink, allusion to fingering and self-pleasure. Reader is seducing a catholic priest and has a bit of a corruption!kink. Smut under the cut.

After the mass was over, you waited a few minutes before leaving the church “accidentally” bumping into him again. “Remus,” you said with a smile. “We seem to continue bumping into each other,” you added as you leaned closer to him and pressed your cheek to his, making a low smacking sound, and then repeating on the other side. He looked bewildered at the contact. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable? I got this habit while I was in France and I still haven’t shaken it off completely.” 

“Oh… No, no,” hesitant, bashful, you loved every bit of it. “Not at all, it’s fine. You can greet me however you like.” 

“Is that privilege reserved to me, or does every other parishioner have it?” He seemed taken aback by your words. “I’m joking, Remus,” you added and placed your hand on his arm, before pulling it back tentatively. “Your mass was wonderful.” 

“Thank you, I’m lucky to work at Saint Gryffin.” 

“The way I see it, Saint Griffin is lucky to have you. I mean lots of women come here to see beautiful priest Remus.” 

“You think?” he asked. Remus didn’t exactly consider himself handsome, he thought his scars would scare people away rather than attract them. But he sometimes failed to see past them and didn’t pay attention to his beautiful eyes, to his charming smile, to his long lashes, or to his well-toned frame. It was as if he had been craved by Michael Angelo himself, from your perspective.

“For sure,” you replied. “Take a closer look at the way they look at you on Sunday and you’ll see.” He blushed, a deeper shade of red than your Nan had pulled out of him, you resisted the urge to bite your lip and smiled instead. “Today was lovely, I’ll see you around,” you said before waving goodbye and leaving exiting the church. 

You went again a week later, Remus would sometimes lose his focus on the bible and look at you instead. That day you had chosen a skirt. Nothing too short or indecent, but certainly short enough to allow your legs to be seen and admired. An older man hadn’t stopped staring at you throughout the mass, and you would have perhaps told him off if it hadn’t been for the fact that Remus had been in a similar position.

Remus’ distraction, his hesitance and his constant turning to you were enough to drive your attention away from the man and onto him. You would smile, and you would nod, and you would pretend to be a supportive little lamb. Innocent, and meek and kind. Just what he expected from you. And it was that Wednesday, the third time that you’d met him, that you realised you had him right where you wanted him to be. 

He for sure had a thing for you, be it curiosity, admiration, or a small crush. You had gotten his atention, and you had gotten into his mind. Now all you needed was to have him.

(...)

The next Wednesday you had been late, you had allowed your hair to be slightly dishevelled and your cheeks were warm, despite the autumn getting colder. You had bitten your lips and you looked like you had just gotten away from a dire situation. You’d done it on purpose. When his gaze fell on you he almost stopped talking completely. He staggered to complete his words and you nodded for him to go on. When he was done, he rushed out, and you stayed in your seat. Eyes closed and hands clasping each other, pretending to pray. 

That’s when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, he whispered your name. “Are you okay, Little Lamb?” 

It took a real effort not to laugh at his nickname. Not because you thought it was stupid, but because you were so far from a lamb that you might as well have been the wolf that ate it. You turned to him, fake distress clouding your features, “I’ve done something terrible, Remus.” 

He was kind, almost impossibly so, it almost made you want to stop your plan and leave him the pure man he was. 

almost.

“I’m sure there’s nothing you could do, that was as bad as you’ve described.” 

“I’d like to confess,” you said. “Would you take my confession?” 

Remus seemed hesitant, biting his lip. He knew he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t hear your confession, not when he wanted to maintain a personal relationship with you, not when he’d develop a crush. But it was in your preoccupied gaze, in the small frown that etched your features, in the way your lips curved down and in the bobbing of your throat as you swallowed. How ever could he deny you? 

Oh, those thoughts would be the ones that would drag him into sin, nay, not drag, but rather, waft him into it. If Remus hadn’t been so enamoured by you, perhaps it would have proved a harder task to accomplish for you. 

“Okay,” he said simply. And helped you stand. Guiding you towards the empty confessionary and sitting in his spot as you opened the door to the other one. It was a narrow place, enough for you to sit. There was a screen dividing the two of you, you couldn’t see him, but you suspected he could see you. And there was a small, square hole in between, enough to fit perhaps a hand. You assumed it was there in case you’d like to give something to the priest, as a thank you. 

Remus cleared his throat, and in the most professional way he could muster he said, “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. My child, what brings you to the sacrament of confession today?”

His voice had been different, stronger as if he was trying not to be himself. You loved it. “Father, I come seeking forgiveness for my sins. I have strayed from the path of righteousness and I seek reconciliation,” you let your voice bend and crack near the end. 

 “I am here to listen, my child. Let us begin with a moment of reflection. Take a moment to examine your conscience and bring to mind the sins you wish to confess.” 

You held back the smirk that threatened to appear when he said that, just in case he was actually able to see you. “I have fallen in love with a man I cannot have.” 

“Oh, darling,” he said, that was Remus, not Father Remus. You had cracked through his façade and you hadn’t even started. “That is not a sin. It’s happened to the best of us.” 

“But it is a sin the way I think of him, Father,” you responded. You heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t speak further. “I have dreamt of him, of his lips, of his eyes with long lashes, the way his hair frames his face, of his beautiful and strong hands–“ Remus tried not to be jealous of the man you described, but everything about him seemed perfect, and unlike himself, he probably could have you. Your beautiful lips, and eyes, focused solely on him. He hated the guy already. “–sliding between my legs, and touching me.” 

“Do not speak further,” there was an edge of alarm in his voice. A bit of a broken end to it. 

“Oh but Father I must,” you said. “If I don’t I’m afraid I’ll act upon my feelings in the same way I did today while thinking of him.” 

“You…” he hesitated. “You touched yourself… Is that why you’re here?” 

“Yes,” you replied with a frown, almost a wince, all of it an act, of course. 

“Pray Our Father 10 times and–“ 

“No! Allow me to relate my story, Father,” he tried to stop you. “I must, I must, or then I might go to him and offer myself in a terrible, ungodly manner and then I won’t ever be deserving of the church ever again.”

Frankly, you didn’t even know how you’d gotten so inspired, but Remus relented, nodding and when he realised you hadn’t heard, he bit his cheek and said. “Go on then.” 

You sighed, that was a real sigh, you weren’t sure you’d get this far. “I had a dream of him father. He was handsome as ever, and he looked at me, with such kind eyes, with such loving eyes, that when he leaned in to kiss me, I didn’t stop him.” 

Remus was already praying for himself. He did not want to imagine you in your bed, your hair sprawled over the pillow and your mind away in a dream, kissing another man. 

(…)

Remus’ boner was straining against his pants in a way that was almost painful. He wanted to let go, he wanted to set him free and chase his own pleasure at your words. At how he pictured you in your bed, sweaty and sighing as you touched yourself. You were so beautiful, he found innocence even in the way you sinned. 

“And then there was bliss, I thought I was dead and had gone to heaven, but I came back, vision cloudy and disoriented. My bedsheets were sticky with my juices and I had to change them. I’ve been in a permanent state of shame ever since then.” 

“Let us pray for your forgiveness,” Remus said. And my own, he thought. Now not only your sheets had been stained, but so had his pants, just from hearing you. You would have relished on the knowledge if you’d had it. 

“Thank you, Father,” you said as you stood. 

“Pray tell me child, whoever is this man that has you in such an altered state of mind?” 

Got him! you thought as you turned your gaze to the confessionary. And almost in a whisper, you murmured. “Well, it’s you, Remus.” 

Read More Marauders Fiction Here

No sweeter innocence than our gentle sin will be out soon!

Tag list open (Just tell me if you want to be added)

[edenfenixblogs]

hi, i wanted to give you an update on that post of mine you reblogged. heritageposts has informed me that they were using the red triangle in this context: https://www.middleeastmonitor.com/20231123-one-small-red-triangle-palestine-we-are-finally-looking/

i was wrong about what they meant with the 🔻 emoji and i am officially rescinding my previous statement

I am all for fact checking and I would love to believe that Heritage Posts did not mean this particular horrible thing they did.

However, Middle East Monitor (MEMO) is not a reliable source for information in this conflict. If HP is actually using MEMO for news, they should focus on more reliable ones going forward.

There are plenty of other left-leaning sources with more reliability, credibility, sourcing, and transparency.

They have failed several fact checks for misleading and occasionally false information. The publication is explicitly and repeatedly pro-Hamas, and they often omit vital information to skew their stories.

While they are not rated as an outright propaganda publication or as a source of conspiracy theories, they do often cite sources which do and are.

Finally, they are funded by donations. Of course these donations largely come from people who support the kind of reporting that people who donate to them support. They are a nonprofit organization, which is not inherently a bad thing. But this means their interests are not based in journalistic ideals but in political ideology. This is not a reason to completely discount a source, but it is something to keep in mind.

In general, with a topic this intense and with such profound consequences for so many people, I’m only engaging with sources who receive a “reporting” rating of “high” or better and a “credibility” rating of “high credibility.”

I would POSSIBLY consider a “reporting” rating of “Mostly factual” if it had a “high credibility” rating and several extenuating circumstances and reduced media bias to compensate for its lower score in another area.

Leftist sources worth referencing instead:

Forward Progressives

Haaretz

International Policy Digest

Current Affairs

And many others

Personally, though, (for this particular conflict especially) I tend to prefer sources that fall into the central three categories: left-center biased, least biased, and right-center biased.

No news source is perfect or without bias. But this conflict is so fraught that I frankly don’t trust anyone reporting with extreme ideological intentions. And I also don’t want to only read sources that make me comfortable. I am personally very leftist in all of my personal politics and voting. However, I also know that the far left has been more hostile to me based solely on my Jewish ethnicity than anyone else in these past months. Furthermore, I think politicians should be more left, but journalism should always prioritize facts and a full scope of a situation over any one viewpoint. I am the daughter of a journalist. I am deeply in favor of journalistic freedom. And I absolutely do NOT believe in “both sidesism.” Sometimes, there really aren’t two sides to a situation that are both equally worth listening to. There is no alternative viewpoint to “Black Lives Matter” for example that is not deeply racist.

There are not “two sides worth teaching” when it comes to The Holocaust.

But the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is not so simple. Israel should stop its bombing of Palestine. Palestinians should have full and equal rights. Jewish people in Israel and around the world should not have to live in constant fear or attack, harassment, or murder. There are a lot of extremely valid perspectives from Palestinians, Muslims, Israelis, Arabs, and Jews. And right now, the far left and the far right are weaponizing their ideologies to reduce all of the aforementioned groups to their worst actors. That is not something that will help anyone with regard to this conflict.

Left Leaning Sources

ABC News

Associated Press

Atlantic Media

Boston Globe

The Forward (This is a Jewish source. They had one failed fact check in the last five years, but issued an official correction.)

Human Rights Watch

Institute for Middle East Understanding (This is a Palestinian source and it has a completely clean fact check record)

Least Biased Sources

Jewish Telegraphic Agency (Obviously a Jewish source)

Reuters (this has a Very High reporting rating)

American Press Institute (not only have they not failed a fact check in five years; they have never failed a fact check ever)

The Conversation

Pew Research

Foreign Policy

Foreign Affairs

Sky News UK

Right Leaning

Note: As I stated numerous times, including in this post, I am a leftist. However, something important for American readers of this post to know is that, when it comes specifically to matters involving military analysis of foreign conflicts, a slight right lean in perspective is common and sometimes preferable to leftist idealism. I say this as someone who votes and holds opinions that are about as far left as one can get. However, I also say this as someone with a background in university studies of international politics. Because analysis of military conflicts is often done by those with experience in and understanding of the military, most of the most credible and detailed analyses of foreign military affairs do tend to be more right leaning than sources of equal worth focused on domestic political matters. Furthermore, a leftist tendency toward pacifism (which I share) tends to mean less leftist involvement in military-involved political matters at all. Of course, none of this means there are no quality leftist sources on the current conflict (which I obviously demonstrated by linking to such sources above). I am simply explaining the value of such sources to those who may justifiably be skeptical of anything right-leaning after the hellish past two decades of domestic policies and US-caused violence in other countries.

Note 2: There are plenty of right-leaning sources that received “high” credibility ratings and “high” reporting ratings. I found no sources that had both “very high” credibility and “high” reporting ratings in the “right-center” category.

Boston Herald

Chicago Tribune

Counter Extremism Project

Foreign Policy Research Institute

The Jewish Press (clearly a Jewish source, this publication is geared toward the Modern Orthodox Jewish community. They have no failed fact checks)

ITV News

Jewish Unpacked (this source has no failed fact checks. this source is right-leaning by necessity because of its historical examination of antisemitism in leftist spaces making those spaces inherently unsafe for Jews—not specifically in this most recent flare up in the I/p conflict, but for years).

Right Bias

Note: I don’t personally follow or read any of these sources. But I did list leftist sources with high credibility and reporting ratings, so I will do the same here in the interest of fairness. It should be noted that all other source bias ratings had results several pages long. Right Bias sources with high credibility and reporting ratings were confined to one page only. There are no Right Bias Sources with Very High reporting ratings and high credibility.

Economic Policy Journal (no failed fact checks now or ever)

Influence Watch (tends to view liberal and progressive politics as “extremist,” but has no failed fact checks.)

I am not inclined to trust HP simply because their most recent antisemitic behavior fell short of hoping for Jewish genocide. I have a higher bar for accounts than that.

[badasmuse]

“Shipoopi”

Bada Lee x Reader

Warnings: language, lowercase intended, pretty cute tbh

Summary: after countless failed dates, bada finds herself with a good one. she’s never been so shocked-

Based off the song “Shipoopi” from The Music Man

“bada where are you going all dressed up?” lusher says after i ran down the stairs.

“on a date. i gotta go or else i’ll be late.” i said slipping on my shoes and grabbing my keys. “don’t wait up love you lush!” i ran to my car and pull off without a thought.

my palms are sweaty and i have no clue why. this isn’t my first time. in fact, i’ve been on approximately seven dates in the past two months. they never last. most of them just want a quick fuck which is something i’m preparing myself for.

i pull up to the restaurant and get out paying for valet because i am in fact too lazy to park my own car. anyways, i turn my head at the sound of my name.

“bada right? i’m y/n.” she smiles at me. shes fucking gorgeous.

“h-hi.” i stutter then facepalm because no way i just stuttered in front of the beautiful woman.

she giggles and hooks her arm in mine. “let’s go.” she guides me into the restaurant and to the table after giving my name to the hostess.

we talked a lot to each other and i swear i’m in love. she hasn’t touched her phone once, she’s been staring me in the eyes the whole time i spoke. man i hope this doesn’t take a turn for the worst.

after it was over, i walked her to her car. “so what next? am i going back to your place or would you like to come to mine?”

y/n laughs, “bada, sweetheart, i don’t know what kind of girls you’ve fucked with before but i don’t put out on the first date. but let’s go on another date soon. i enjoyed this.”

i blinked a few times. surprise and relief filling me. “y-yeah of course.. i’ll text you.” here i go stuttering again.

she waves bye and pulls off. i like her.

the second date was just as good, if not better, than the first one. i’ve never been on more than one date with the same person. we went to an arcade and got ice cream. it was the sweetest date i’ve ever been on. no pun intended.

afterwards we go to her car and she smiles at me, “hope you don’t mind me asking for a third date.” she says, giggling. “i’m having a lot of fun with you.”

i nod, “i am too. i’d love a third date. i’ll call you. bye y/n.”

she waves and pulls off.

three, four, seven dates pass and we still haven’t done a thing besides hold hands and hug. i’m not complaining, it’s very refreshing.

“and like she hasn’t even kissed me yet. i haven’t kissed her either, not even on the cheek. it’s not like she’s hard to get but she is and i’m not complaining but i’ve never done this and i’m so glad i found her. it feels good.” i rant laying my head on lusher’s lap.

“oh shit, she’s your shipoopi!” she says.

i sit up fast, “bitch my what??”

“shipoopi! the girl that’s hard to get but you get her, and you basically have her. you’re glad you found her. she’s your shipoopi! you should ask her out. she’ll probably say yes!”

i sigh and look at my watch, “oh shit i’m meeting her in fifteen minutes. gotta go bye lush!” i grab my keys, slide on my shoes, and drive to the cafe down the road.

she’s your shipoopi! you should ask her out.

lusher’s words replay in my head. maybe i’ll ask her out…

she walks in, looking gorgeous as ever. “my bada!” she says sitting across from me.

my heart flutters when she calls me her bada. “hi y/n.”

“what’s wrong? your vibe is off.” she cocks her head to the side.

i open my mouth then close it. should i ask?

“bada, talk to-“

“will you be my girlfriend?” i blurt out, cutting her off, then covering my mouth.

“i am so sorry. oh my gosh i did not mean to cut you off. it’s the nerves. my hands are so sweaty right now. oh you did not need to know that.” i sigh and look down at my shoes.

i hear her giggle which causes me to look up. “yes bada i’ll be your girlfriend.” she says.

“really?”

“yes really.” she stands up and leans over kissing me on my lips. “i hope that was okay.” she says after she pulls back.

my mind blanks. i just stare at her. my heart is beating fast and i’m frozen.

“uh oh i broke her.” y/n giggles yet again before she lays her hands in my face gently. “get out your mind sweetheart.”

“s-sorry.” i stutter. man can i not? “um… wanna go see a movie?”

she nods, “yes, but, let’s watch at your place.”

“really?”

“we’ve been on enough dates. i trust you now. come on.” she walks with me to my car. “my brother dropped me off, you don’t mind me being your passenger princess do you?”

“absolutely not. i didn’t think you’d say yes to me..” i say honestly after opening the door for her and sliding in the drivers seat.

“i may seem hard to get but honestly bada you had me after the second date. you could’ve asked then and i would’ve said yes.”

“really? i guess i should’ve then huh?” i pause and think, “my best friend, and roommate, said you’re my… shipoopi. i’m not sure what that really means. i mean she explained it but i’m lost.”

she laughs and covers her mouth. “you mind if i see your phone?”

i hand it to her unlocked and she scrolls for a minute before typing and a song starts to play.

i listen to the lyrics carefully and laugh, “OH this is what she meant.”

“she’s 100% correct.” she giggles holding my hand that’s on the middle console.

i guess she’s my shipoopi… i hate that word bro what the fuck.

[logan-lieutenant]

Am i the only one who's kinda insulted colapinto immediately insults logan after he crashs the car or am i reading to much into it like?????? Why are you insulting the guy who was so nice to you? And if ur not insulting him then why are you joking abouy his crashes like there funny????

Here’s what I have to say about Franco:

I definitely spent too much time on this, but receiving this ask absolutely BEWILDERED me so I went on an internet spiral to find what on earth it could be referring to before I found it. X, Instagram, Williams App, Motorsport.com. I looked everywhere for any sort of comment or criticism that could be called an “insult” from Franco and he hasn’t made any sort of statement, on socials or interviews, about Logan at all. Which, considering the media/PR hellscape Williams has now roped him into, is definitely for the best.

What I think you meant– I think– was Franco’s radio message right after he hit the barrier. An apology. “Sorry about that, guys.” Now this is where I guarantee you, you are reading too far into it. Drivers are well aware of the consequences of damaging their cars, especially at the beginning of a race weekend. Especially when the whole world is watching with as much ridicule and scrutiny as Williams is receiving now. They know how much the damage costs. They know their teams don’t have bottomless resources. They know that they’re not the ones who are going to have hours or days worth of nonstop work to do to clean up their mess.

Crashing is shameful. It’s embarrassing. It’s like throwing up on someone’s favorite shirt and then watching them hand wash it. Drivers apologize on the radio after crashing more often than not, even in different tones/wording. Logan did not invent dejection, he did not invent self-loathing apologies, he didn’t invent apologizing on the radio after a driver-error impact.

I’m a huge Logan Sargeant stan. The August 27th news hit me like a battering ram in the chest and I’m still in the process of catching my breath. I get that it’s so easy to have a natural, almost overeager resentment for his replacement. The fact that Franco’s media personality, the costumes they put on and stick to throughout their careers to make themselves likeable and recognizable, is so opposite from Logan. Cocky, confident, smooth-talker, upbeat.

But he isn’t in charge of his own image, even, none of them are. He’s walking on eggshells because he’s going to be met with backlash and hate from ex-Williams fans, Logan fans, people who think he can’t be good as a rookie, people who love to underestimate him. He doesn’t have an inch of room to make some kind of public image mistake. Also, he’s not even 25? I still consider that a kid. He’s a kid, he’s learning, he’s gonna be reckless and ambitious and trip over some hurdles trying to navigate the monstrous traveling circus of F1 for the brief time he has.

Also, speaking of mistakes– because Logan, the driver he’s replacing due to James Vowles’ erratic leadership, was famous for crashes and not much else– Franco knows that he can’t afford to show any similarity to that sort of pattern or else he’ll be finished. He’ll be a laughing stock, a mistake, a disappointment, another reason to shout, “Why would you do this?!” to Williams as a whole. Just like Alex, his performance on track has to do more than just carry them forward in the championship– they need something shiny and sparkly and impressive just to cover up the horseshit back in the garage. What happens to Franco if he fails to meet that standard?

He gets maybe one crash. One crash to burn. A single crash could be rookie error, overexcitement, getting used to a new track, any number of excusable mishaps. Anything else? He’s history. And before his second race out of his Formula 1 debut, he’s burned straight through it.

Just because he comes across as optimistic, proud of himself, excited, ready to race onscreen doesn’t mean that everything’s totally fine behind his yes. He’s under enormous pressure. Monumental stakes are weighing on his performance as an F2 rookie, as an F1 rookie, in someone else’s car, for the last third of an already-in-progress season. This could be his only chance to make an impact, to show his talent. And Williams have made that as difficult as it could be for him. Which they’re good at.

Just because Franco is performing better than Logan doesn’t mean he’s a participant in the insidious nightmare that is Williams management right now. He’s just a young driver they could have thrown into the wrong car at the wrong time. Sound familiar?

tl;dr I will defend Franco Colapinto as a temporary Williams driver and support Logan Sargeant as a survivor of abuse and those two things can exist at the same time

[salty-croissants]

bullfrog x reader (any gender) , unofficial marriage. Where both of them want to made things official but considering the situation with them and Eden, reader “proposes” to bullfrog in the sweetest way ever.

(sorry if this ask sounds too all over the place I got too giddy typing this out💞)

Thank you for the request ! 

This is a really wholesome prompt , I enjoyed writing it :D 

Also don’t worry about it , your request was just fine ! 👍

I hope this turned out okay ! 

Details : use of gender neutral reader ; 

established relationships ; 

no warnings needed 

Now that you and Bullfrog have been together for quite some time , there is a desire from both of you to give your relationship more of a deeper meaning … especially since you don’t realistically know how much time you have left given how dangerous your goal to take down Eden is .

However , since you’re constantly hiding and on the run there is no way to have any kinds of official ceremonies , so yeah … it’s really not an easy situation to be in .

Bullfrog feels very guilty about the fact that he can’t properly marry the person he loves the most because of his wanted status , and during the days in which he feels at his lowest he’s often going to bring it up …

< y/n , I just want you to have a good life … one where you don’t have to worry about getting hurt because of me . 

I can’t ask you to put everything at stake just to - > 

< Bullfrog , my love … I want to .

I want to be with you and fight by your side : no matter what the future has in store for us , I just know that we can face it together . > 

Your words never fail to bring some comfort to the assassin , even though they can’t magically erase his worries : maybe you’re right … maybe you will figure everything out as long as you stay together , who knows ? 

Deep down though , you’re just as anxious as he is : you would do anything to be able to marry Bullfrog and create an even stronger bond between you both , but how could you do that with Eden constantly threatening your lives ? 

After lots of thinking and scrapping one idea after another , you finally come up with a plan to propose to your beloved frog in a way that will definitely surprise him in the best way possible … it is slightly risky , but it’s a small price to pay to make that dream you and Bullfrog have become a reality . 

There is a special place that you two go to whenever you want to spend some time alone : a lake , located  far away from the city surrounded by a small forest and with a pretty gazebo … it’s been forgotten about by pretty much everyone except for you and Bullfrog , which makes it a perfect corner to hide away from the rest of the world when things get a bit too tough .

It’s a great candidate for what you have in mind , so you begin working on making it even more magical to have it ready for the time you’ll propose to Bullfrog , and since that’s quite a long task you end up spending months on your project … something that your boyfriend became quite curious about . 

< Hey , darling ? I noticed you’ve been heading off quite often these days … tout va bien ? > 

< Oh - yeah yeah , it’s all good ! 

I may or may not be working on a little … surprise , but I can’t spoil it just yet ~ > 

< Heh , d'accord … just be careful when you’re outside , okay ? >

< I’ll be careful sweetie , don’t worry . > 

… and after all that hard work , everything is ready for the big day : 

you ask Bullfrog to follow you somewhere , and he immediately understands that this sudden request has something to do with that secret thing you told him about days ago .

< Oh ? Am I going to see what surprise you have in store for me ? 

I won’t lie , je suis curieux ! > 

< Mhm , yeah it’s finally ready … I’m not really sure , but something tells me that you won’t be expecting what it is ~ > 

When he finally gets to witness what you did to your hidden spot by the lake , he just …

He’s completely and utterly in awe :

the place has been thoughtfully decorated with roses , his favorite flower , which outline the path that leads to the gazebo …

< y/n … ! 

You … you’ve made all of this for me … ? >

< Yeah ! 

I wish I could’ve shown this to you sooner , but it takes time for roses to grow … I came here every day to take care of them and make sure that everything was okay .

Do you … like it ? > 

< Like it ? Mon beau , this is incredible ! 

I can’t believe you went through so much just to do this for me … thank you , thank you so much ! > 

You can’t help but smile in front of his adorable reaction , and the moment he begins peppering your face with sweet kisses to underline just how happy you’ve made him your happiness only grows …

… but you know that’s not all . 

< Uh , actually … there’s another reason why I’ve been working on this .

That’s … heh , that’s the real surprise tonight . 

It’s something that I couldn’t tell you just anywhere … something that I’ve been wanting to say for a long time . > 

You can feel Bullfrog’s golden eyes staring at you as you slowly get on your knees , your heart pounding in your chest as you prepare yourself to finally confess your true feelings for the frog you’ve grown to love so much over the years …

< y/n … ? > 

Bullfrog had a feeling that something special was going to happen that night … but now he is starting to realize what it is .

< Bullfrog , my one and only love … I can’t express enough just what a blessing having you in my life has been until now : 

you’ve always been there for me through the highs and the lows , showing me kindness and understanding even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it … 

You’re just … you’re the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me , and I really do mean it . > 

You take a second to catch your breath , your eyes never leaving his …

< I know that time is running out , with Eden one step behind us , ready to end us the second we lower our guard … this isn’t really a situation most people would consider ideal to ask you something like this , but while I don’t know what will become of us I just know that …

All I want to do is spend every single moment with you , the person that brings me hope even when I can’t bring myself to see the light . > 

Here it comes … the moment you’ve both been waiting for …

< So , Bullfrog … 

Will you marry me ? > 

You immediately feel his arms around you the second you finish your sentence , and judging by his little sniffs you can tell that the assassin was really , really touched by what you said … 

< Oh y/n , mon amour … of course I will … 

I’ve been wanting to do this for so long , I was just … scared , scared to put you in danger , scared to lose you … > 

You definitely get a bit emotional too , his hands caressing your cheeks and wiping away your tears of joy …

< You won’t lose me , I promise .

I love you so much , Bullfrog … heh , words aren’t even enough to express how much you mean to me . > 

He smiles at you softly , and before you know it your faces get closer and closer , until your lips touch .

< Mm … je t'aime aussi , y/n … and I will love you always . > 

Hearing him whisper those words among the kisses makes your heart skip a beat , and as your night ends with a much needed intimate moment of passion you feel like this night marks a new beginning for the two of you …

No one would be able to break your bond , not Eden , not anyone else .