#god he's so fabulous and I love him for it

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

The-Sass-Stance™

For when you gotta let the people know you mean serious business, with an extra pinch of sass for good measure😉

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

VINCENT PRICE -

Dr. Goldfoot and the Bikini Machine (1965)

[h-worksrambles]

Replaying that modern au Summer special reminded me that Murdoch canonically likes Coraline. So you know he has peak taste.

[ham1lton]

THE WINNER TAKES IT ALL!

pairings: oscar piastri x superstar!reader.

summary: when your boyfriend wins his maiden grand prix, you’ve got to show up for him. that proves difficult when no one believes he’s dating you.

faceclaim: isabella peschardt.

author’s note: dedicated to the one anon that sent me this plot and obviously to the one third of my f1 holy trinity, mr oscar piastri for his maiden win!!! <3

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liked by arianagrande, clairo and 4,827,929 others.

yourusername: the tour is finally done!! thank you so much to all of the incredible fans, my fabulous team and everyone else who made this possible! this is all for you!

i’m home now and as a thank you, i’ve released ‘saturn’. i saw all of your tweets and comments about when i’d finally let it out of my music cage and now it’s free! hope you all enjoy <3

view all 907,726 comments

user1: SHE RELEASED THE LIVE VERSION AND THE ORIGINAL????

-> user2: YNNIES WE HAVE BEEN FED TODAY !!!!!

user3: i saw her melbourne show. she’s soooo good live.

-> user4: y’all bullied her into performing drew barrymore thank you for ur service 🫡

user5: so many celebrities showed up to the tour. omg. beyoncé, sza, jay-z, the obama’s daughters, ari, dua, the hadids, justin bieber, and so many others.

-> user6: so many f1 drivers were there? pierre, charles and his gf were spotted at the paris show. lando, oscar, george and his gf, and alex and his gf went to the london show. mick and lewis went to the berlin show. this girl has a HOLD in the motorsport world.

-> user7: i mean, oscar always reposts her stuff on his timeline. he’s probably a ynnie and that’s so real of him.

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liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 1,123,828 others.

oscarpiastri: got my first win, not too shabby eh?

view all 567,122 comments

nicolepiastri: WOOOO thats my son 🍾

*liked by oscarpiastri.*

user1: obsessed with this man

user2: AUSTRALIA RAHHH 🐨🦘🇦🇺

charles_leclerc: congratulations son! another win for the leclerc family.

user3: MY GOAT!!!!!

-> user4: a win for gen z.

user5: wym winners are now being born in the 2000s???

-> user6: girl i feel OLD 😭

yourusername: so proud of you! literally cried when you won! i was screaming at the television and everything. my dad got it on camera 😔

-> oscarpiastri: epic, send it to me.

-> user7: HELP?/&/&

-> user8: wym that thee yn yln and oscar piastri text??

-> user9: since when was yn a oscar stan?

-> user10: fr cause she never used to watch f1? she was always a basketball/hockey fan. hmmm…

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liked by ynsgirl, oscarstan1 and 1,727,828 others

ham1ltonshaderoom: after oscar piastri’s maiden f1 win, he was spotted in london with none other than pop’s golden girl, yn yln. they were then posted on a friend’s instagram story, which was then quickly deleted. she was reportedly also seen leaving his celebratory afterparty.

what do you think about the unlikely couple, ham1ltons?

view all 347,928 comments

user1: no.

-> user2: no.

-> user3: no.

-> user4: no.

-> user5: FUCK no!

user6: no way in hell she’s dating him bffr. she has a type and oscar isn’t it.

-> user7: oscar wishes. wouldn’t be surprised if he faked these and paid ham1lton to post it.

user8: i love oscar and yn but separately.

user9: it makes sense a little though. i’m serious.

-> user10: most unserious comment ever.

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liked by yourusername, oscarstan2 and 3,827,882 others.

oscarpiastri: i can’t lose when i’m with you.

tagged: yourusername

view all 728,828 comments

user1: oh they frfr 😟

user2: this is so sweet!!! no wonder she was releasing happier love songs recently.

user3: dating the prettiest girl ever, being a formula one race winner, a future wdc, and you’re not even UGLY??? why did god humble me this is sick.

-> user4: exactly 😭 like yn give us some time!! we’ll get there.

-> oscarpiastri: want some tips?

-> user5: U RSICK MYGOD

landonorris: the grapevine was right. oh.

logansargeant: happy for you both!! and ty yn for giving me the signed vinyl for my cousin!! she loved it 😻

user13: USING HER LYRICS AS THE CAPTION MY GOD

-> user14: SNOOZE IS ABOUT OSCAR????

-> user15: oscar is a bad bitch my god. getting one of the biggest songs written about him.

-> oscarpiastri: 1:21 — sideways by jt 😉

-> user16: OSCAR HELLO?2&/9/9/)

-> user17: MCLARENS PR WHERE ARE YOU?

-> mclaren: too busy streaming ctrl by yn 🎧

user6: i don’t believe it. why would she date him?

-> oscarpiastri: and what’s the alternative? dating you?

-> user7: OOP! 😹

user8: yn doesn’t deserve oscar.

*user blocked by oscarpiastri.*

yourusername: i love you 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

-> oscarpiastri: i love you so much more actually 💕

user9: CUTEST COUPLE EVER OMGGGG

user10: this is the year of athlete x singer relationships

-> user11: gonna start singing lessons immediately. JUDE BELLINGHAM WAIT FOR ME!!!

-> user12: i can hit a note on occasion landonorris 😏

-> landonorris: just checked your profile, you sound like a screeching cat. absolutely awful.

-> landonorris: i want you 😍

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @lennnooshh @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @lavisenri @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong (oscar specific tags will be in the comments)

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[stvolanis]

oh nothinggg, just thinking about Spooky x Bimbo! Reader

god, Spooky can’t stand you. always wearing those shorts—the ones that your ass cheeks hang out in. running around with your flimsy tube tops, nipples peeking through. Somehow being mixed into his brothers friend group, but not being involved in their messes. You were kinda just the friend they kept around cause your daddy sells weed to the people in Brentwood, so they got major discounts! but of course they loved you.

god, the amount of times he’s gotten a flash of the thin little hot pink thong straps you wear—or when you bend over to pick up something right in front of him; he thinks you’re doing it on purpose at this point! So he’s puzzled when you stand back up and whip around with an oblivious smile and innocent look in your eyes. He always has to do the thinking for you cause your silly brain can’t really comprehend what’s going on with the freakin roller world money your friends keep blabbering about that spooky wasn’t supposed to know about! Too bad, you already told him when you were mindlessly yapping about your day!

he would totally say something like, “didn’t know I was gettin a free show, baby.” After he walked in on your trying to shimmy off your skin tight, mid thigh dress. You blushed and weakly tried to shove him out of the room, only in your panties and matching bra. But it was like pushing a brick wall, and the way your clothed breasts pressed against him had him going crazy! So he felt like his body acted on its own when he grabbed the flesh of your ass with one hand, and your throat with the other.

He inhaled your scent, muttering a string of profanities in his mother tongue as he kissed the side of your jaw. “Been tempting me too much lately, cariño. M’only a man at the end of the day.” He breathed against you, watching the way your shorter body trembled under his touch. “I have needs. N’ it’s your job to take care of them like I always take care of you, ma.”

so of course as soon as he said that, his hand harshly pulled your bra down, exposing your breasts to him. He pinched one of your nipples, pulling it a little before releasing. Soon, your knees collided with the hard wood beneath you’d, and his cock was slapping against your cheek, leaving a trail of his sticky pre-cum. “S’right, niña. Put that pretty mouth to better use.” He smirked—that fucking smirk. The one that made you week in the knees.

You knew you were done for.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!

TAG LIST: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @luxuriouslokistan-3 @foxevxid @sapriao @xiyingly @jazminsjaz @likeits2002 @www-interludeshadow-com @khxna @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @hockeyrat @rafeswhorejjsslut @peterpan-neverfails @sunflowerskenz @lemonadygirl @newavenger @bloobewy

[aveloka-draws]

Okay, seriously. I want to know more about your Saleos, what he's likes, how he met Kallamar and why he's so devoted to him, how he interact with the cult, bishops, and Kallamar's other followers. Your design and comic really made me intrigued about the guy who was willing to go all Mary Shelley for our fabulous boyfailure of a squid.

Since he lived his whole life in Anchordeep, he had a lot of experience treating sick followers while at the same time teaching them to take their afflictions as a blessig. Helped keep faith high even when Kallamar would punish some of his acolytes, earning the title of disciple and joining the other consorts.

An unexpected part of his role as disciple was to just listen to the god talk, becoming sort of a confidant for him. He shared with Saleos about himself, the old faith, and the many things he dreaded.

During the time they shared together Saleos learned that the gods could love, mourn and fear. And that his god feared death above anything else.

At least thats my take on him ✌

[inkyajax]

i would looove love love to get a peak at your 5000 word document dissecting alhaitham <333 im so in love w him

waaah really anon!? i’m flattered to hear that! i’m always extremely hesitant to share stuff like that because one, it’s personal to me and analyzing characters like that is a special pastime/hobby for me—something i deeply enjoy doing and like keeping for myself, something private and cherished and just for me—and two, i know everyone has their own personal interpretations of characters of course (influenced by their own unique experiences, beliefs, opinions etc.) which can be very sacred to them (especially if the character is a comfort character) and they can sometimes get very upset or feel very strongly when someone has a different interpretation of the same character as them. all interpretations of a character are valid and there are no ‘right’ answers in art (one of the many beauties of it!)—everyone is allowed to and welcome to interpret a character however they’d like to and no one is more ‘right’ than anyone else; it’s fiction, it’s what you make of it!—however bullying and harassing someone simply due to the fact that their interpretation differs from yours is never okay.

[charliemwrites]

Hahahaha good morning I had the wildest dream last night so I’m going to inflict it on all of you:

(I’m not done with keeper/kept. Just had to get this out)

Warnings for obsessive/possessive behavior, unhealthy and semi-one sided relationship, not-quite-dark John price.

John Price who decides it time he has a wife. Not retiring, god no! He’s not done yet. But his home is lonely when he’s on leave; he’s getting sentimental as he gets “older”. So, he wants a wife.

In theory, it sounds like just what he wants. A pretty warm thing snoozing in his bed when he gets home at ass o’clock in the morning. Someone to fret over new scars and fresh bandages. Someone to fuss at him for “taste testing” meals and wrinkle their nose at his cigars.

In practice, it’s not so easy. If it was, he reckons he would have been married by now. Good thing he’s already got the perfect candidate picked out.

You own a small business in his town. Not fabulously wealthy, but comfortable and independent. Something to keep you busy while he’s away but you make your own hours so your schedule it flexible to see him when he has infrequent leave.

And he adores you, knows that you’ve got more than a little crush on him. You smile and blush and reciprocate his interest, have only refrained from perusing anything because you didn’t think he was serious. But oh, he is.

One day you say something particularly charming and he says, “marry me.”

He’s been dropping these little jokes for a while now and you always start laughing because it’s just the kind of dramatic humor you love. Today you say something different than your usual overdramatic “oh but it could never work, captain.”

Today you say, “if only.”

How pathetic is it that you’re holding a candle for a man you’ve never even gotten a coffee with? Your family laments that your can’t spend your whole life married to your job. That they want grandchildren and nieces/nephews, someone to tell embarrassing stories about you to on holidays. You used to roll your eyes, but the prospect doesn’t feel so obligatory anymore.

Anytime you imagine it, it’s John Price there. You’ve stopped trying to imagine it for your heart’s sake.

Except a week later he’s sweeping into your shop and dropping a kiss on your cheek. An unusual greeting, but maybe he’s in a good mood. His hand lingers on the small of your back while you show him the new product that just came in.

You live above your shop and one day he shows up at the door with a bottle of wine, telling you he could use some good company. You’re shocked and confused but he looks like an amalgamation of every heartthrob in a hallmark or romcom you’ve ever “ironically” enjoyed. You invite him in.

By mid morning, he’s had you in every room of your apartment. Ate you out slow and greedy on the counters. Bent you over the dining table. Bounced you on his cock on your couch. Fingered his cum out of you in the bathtub. And absolutely ruined you twice over in your own bed.

He even changes the sheets before the two of you pass out that final time. And when you finally do wake up, he’s taken the initiative to brew coffee and make breakfast. It’s like a dream.

He fucks you against the door before he leaves.

When he’s deployed again, he calls you every night. You don’t expect it the first time, but it’s a sweet gesture to show things aren’t ruined. You’re not expecting the second time either and have to call him back when you climb out of the shower. The third time you wait for it, but still startle a bit when his name pops up on the screen.

He calls you every night he can while he’s away. You don’t know what to make of it.

Then one day you come back from errands to see movers in the yard. You think it’s some kind of mistake until John meets you at your car.

“Fire in the next building over,” he explains. “Their insurance will cover all the damages but it’s not safe to stay in your place. Mine’s just up the road. Figured you could stay until it’s sorted out.”

You want to be annoyed, and you almost are. But the overwhelm of nearly losing everything - only to have all the stress already handled and the important, nerve wracking decisions smoothed over? You just take the good luck.

To thank John for his generosity (and to fill the void of not running the shop) you bustle around his too-big house. Cook meals, keep things tidy. Keep John company when he manages to snag you from your gratitude-induced work.

He spends hours fucking you nice and slow, whispering things you barely remember in your ear. That you’re perfect for him, so sweet like a little wife, that he’d come home to you for the rest of his life. You kiss him quiet and rock back against him when it starts sounding too tempting.

Eventually, the repairs on your shop/apartment are done. It feels like a rude awakening to a pleasant dream. Instead of moving your things back, John moves more things in. When you tell him that you appreciate his kindness, but you should probably get back to your own space, he gets an odd look. Asks what you mean when this is your space.

And the trap springs closed.

“John,” you half-laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not actually married you know?”

“Not last I checked.”

The marriage certificate gets framed in the bedroom you’ve been sharing for a month. You storm out and stay in a hotel. He lets you for three days before coming to retrieve you. When you try to be stubborn, he gives you an exasperated look (as if you’re the one being unreasonable) and politely asks that you not make a scene by forcing him to carry you of there.

For your own reputation, you comply, glowering out his car window the whole ride to his house. Try to give him the silent treatment which lasts about 30 minutes before he’s got you moaning and whining on his cock.

He drives you to the shop in the morning and picks you up at night. Anytime you try to put your little foot down, he just scoops you off them. The neighbors start cooing that he’s such a good man. You try not to scream.

When he’s finally deployed again, you try to move all your things back to your home. Except the movers apologetically tell you that they can’t trespass on John’s property.

Fine, you’ll do it yourself. Somehow.

You pack two suitcases and some of your cookware. Load it all up in a rental - because John sent your damn car into the shop - and trying to get comfortable in your own flat again.

Except it’s all wrong. The scent of smoke still lingers, it’s cold because the heating hasn’t been turned on yet this year. Half your things are gone and there’s no food in the fridge or pantries. You tough it out. Buy a ready-made meal and new bed linens and pillow. Sleep in a bed too cold even with the heat finally on.

When John calls, you don’t answer. He sends a text that simply reads “I love you.” You toss your phone across the room.

The next night, when he calls again and you don’t answer, he sends a “stay safe, love.” You spend twenty minutes with fingers poised over the keys. Chug a glass of wine and send back a neutral “you too, John”.

When he calls on the third night, you pick up, bark a sharp “knock it off” and hang up. Another text that he was so happy to hear your voice.

Another call, you pick up and demand “what are you doing?” He chuckles on the other end. “Calling my darling wife. I miss you.” You believe him. That’s the worst part.

When he gets back, you ride the long, long river of denial right up until he’s at your door, eyebrows arched. “Really, love,” he hums, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here just because you missed me.”

You want to hit him. You storm off to your bedroom instead. He wanders the house. You hear him clattering in the kitchen and wandering around the living room. When you hear the door close, you think he’s finally left and given all this up.

Twenty minutes later, he’s casually removing the door (sans hinges) and gathering you up. When you get back to his house, he carries you inside and fucks the tantrum right out of you in the shower, growling that you don’t smell like home anymore.

When you wake up from your three-orgasm induced nap, he’s washing the clothes you took to your old flat. On your left hand is a pretty diamond with “JP” carved into the band.

At the store, people start calling you “Mrs. Price”. The neighbors (John’s neighbors) invite you over as “the Prices”. You glare at him when he starts looking too smug about it.

When he’s set to deploy again, he sits you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with arms.

“Don’t make me come get you this time,” he warns, pressing kisses along your jaw. “This is gonna be a rough one. I just want to see you when I get home.”

It’s a warning that you know to heed. You don’t try to leave this time. When he calls, you answer, rattling off stupid details about your day. You’re shocked to hear him remember names and dates and tasks with everything else hes got going on. Promises he’ll deal with the creep at the post office when he gets home.

“And… you are coming home… right?” you ask.

“Nothing could keep me away, love.”

He doesn’t call for three days straight. You tell yourself the tightness in your chest is just anxiety over how the hell to handle his assets if he’s dead.

At 3am, the bed dips, a warm body pressing up against your back. You recognize John’s arms wrapping tight around your waist. You stir.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Perfect now, love.”

“Mm welcome home.”

“Good to be home, gorgeous.”

[youaresimplylovely]

Baby Girl.

Pairings: Carlos Sainz x Wife! Reader

Summary: Carlos has such a baby girl wife

Words: 616

Proofread!!

A/N: here's a one shot for u guys, I plan to make more and this is not connected to my story "Fast and Fabulous: A Driven Love" chapter 7 will be uploaded tomorrow:)

People say in yours and Carlos' relationship, Carlos is and will always be the "baby girl". But your husband begs to disagree. In his point of view, you're the "baby girl" in the relationship. Well he says that in a good way. He knows in himself that his face card is very babygirlism but his wife, you shows a lot more of that.

"babyyy, where are you" You chirp, looking around the house with a pout on your face and a pink ribbon in your hand.

"I'm here baby" Carlos says from the living room, his eyes shifted from the tv to the stairs as he waits to see you go downstairs.

Your eyes widened with cuteness on your face. Sparkles could be seen on your eyes, hurrying to go downstairs to see Carlos smiling at you. He pats the area next to where he was sitting on the couch.

"There you are!" You say full of gleam and excitement. Sitting next to your husband, you look at him sweetly, fluttering those pretty eyelashes of yours.

"Yes? What does my baby need?" He says in a playful tone. Eventually looking back at the tv while watching the game of Real Madrid last week, still making sure to pay attention to you.

"Can I wrap a ribbon around your bicep?" You giggle, kicking your feet as you look at your husband with a big pout and the best puppy eyes you could ever give. You knew he couldn't say no to you.

He was caught off guard by your words, it's not that he dislikes it but he found your cute behaviour amusing. "A ribbon? On my bicep?" He laughs softly, turning his head to look at you. Soft hands caressing your cheeks.

"yeah! Can I? Pleaseeeee" you hold his hands that were on your cheeks, still giving him that pout and your puppy eyes.

God, Carlos would be lying if he said he didn't want to but he did. He loved your cute behaviour and all of these things you did. You really had him wrapped around your finger. He couldn't say no to you.

A chuckle comes out of his mouth and so does a content sigh. Gently taking his hands off your cheek as he rolls up the sleeve of his t - shirt revealing his biceps that God did you love so much.

"here baby" He smiles at you softly, planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yay!!" You let out all the excitement in you. Smiling happily, you take the pink ribbon as you gently tie it around his biceps.

Carlos chuckled, he flexed his bicep causing the ribbon you tied to break. He giggles at your reaction that his strong muscles broke the cute pink ribbon you tied.

"Carlos!!" You whine, furrowing your eyebrows at him. You cross your arms pouting as you look at the broken ribbon.

"Ay baby I was kidding, you can put another one." He laughs, kissing your cheek looking at your with a big smile.

Your frowning and pouting soon faded once you re tied the ribbon. Sighing softly, you wrap your arm around his bicep. Gently laying your head against his shoulder.

"maybe I can tie your car keys with a pink ribbon too." You giggle, scooting in closer with him as much as possible.

Carlos chuckles at the thought of that but he liked it. It would mean having a reminder that you were always there with him in his car rides.

"whatever you want babygirl." He smiles softly, realizing how lucky he is with you. Then again he was right, you were the baby girl in the relationship but you were his baby girl.

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer Books Challenged in Florida Schools and Libraries

There are some affiliate links below in case you want to support MQH.

Gender Queer: A Memoir, Maia Kobabe: Now, Gender Queer is here. Maia's intensely cathartic autobiography charts eir journey of self-identity, which includes the mortification and confusion of adolescent crushes, grappling with how to come out to family and society, bonding with friends over erotic gay fanfiction, and facing the trauma and fundamental violation of pap smears.

The Color Purple, Alice Walker: Separated as girls, sisters Celie and Nettie sustain their loyalty to and hope in each other across time, distance and silence. Through a series of letters spanning nearly thirty years, first from Celie to God, then the sisters to each other despite the unknown, the novel draws readers into its rich and memorable portrayals of Celie, Nettie, Shug Avery and Sofia and their experience. The Color Purple broke the silence around domestic and sexual abuse, narrating the lives of women through their pain and struggle, companionship and growth, resilience and bravery.

Julián Is a Mermaid, Jessica Love: While riding the subway home from the pool with his abuela one day, Julián notices three women spectacularly dressed up. Their hair billows in brilliant hues, their dresses end in fishtails, and their joy fills the train car. When Julián gets home, daydreaming of the magic he's seen, all he can think about is dressing up just like the ladies in his own fabulous mermaid costume: a butter-yellow curtain for his tail, the fronds of a potted fern for his headdress. But what will Abuela think about the mess he makes -- and even more importantly, what will she think about how Julián sees himself? Mesmerizing and full of heart, Jessica Love's author-illustrator debut is a jubilant picture of self-love and a radiant celebration of individuality.

Drama: A Graphic Novel, Raina Telgemeier: Callie loves theater. And while she would totally try out for her middle school's production of Moon over Mississippi, she can't really sing. Instead she's the set designer for the drama department's stage crew, and this year she's determined to create a set worthy of Broadway on a middle-school budget. But how can she, when she doesn't know much about carpentry, ticket sales are down, and the crew members are having trouble working together? Not to mention the onstage AND offstage drama that occurs once the actors are chosen. And when two cute brothers enter the picture, things get even crazier!

Cemetery Boys, Aiden Thomas: Yadriel has summoned a ghost, and now he can't get rid of him. When his traditional Latinx family has problems accepting his true gender, Yadriel becomes determined to prove himself a real brujo. With the help of his cousin and best friend Maritza, he performs the ritual himself, and then sets out to find the ghost of his murdered cousin and set it free. However, the ghost he summons is actually Julian Diaz, the school's resident bad boy, and Julian is not about to go quietly into death. He's determined to find out what happened and tie off some loose ends before he leaves. Left with no choice, Yadriel agrees to help Julian, so that they can both get what they want. But the longer Yadriel spends with Julian, the less he wants to let him leave.

I Am Billie Jean King, Brad Meltzer: This friendly, fun biography series focuses on the traits that made our heroes great--the traits that kids can aspire to in order to live heroically themselves. Each book tells the story of one of America's icons in a lively, conversational way that works well for the youngest nonfiction readers and that always includes the hero's childhood influences. At the back are an excellent timeline and photos. This volume features Billie Jean King, the world champion tennis player who fought successfully for women's rights. From a young age, Billie Jean King loved sports--especially tennis! But as she got older, she realized that plenty of people, even respected male athletes, didn't take women athletes seriously. She set to prove them wrong and show girls everywhere that sports are for everyone, regardless of gender.

This One Summer, Mariko Tamaki: Every summer, Rose goes with her mom and dad to a lake house in Awago Beach. It's their getaway, their refuge. Rosie's friend Windy is always there, too, like the little sister she never had. But this summer is different. Rose's mom and dad won't stop fighting, and when Rose and Windy seek a distraction from the drama, they find themselves with a whole new set of problems. One of the local teens - just a couple of years older than Rose and Windy - is caught up in something bad... Something life threatening. It's a summer of secrets, and sorrow, and growing up, and it's a good thing Rose and Windy have each other.

Marriage of a Thousand Lies, Sj Sindu: Lucky and her husband, Krishna, are gay. They present an illusion of marital bliss to their conservative Sri Lankan-American families, while each dates on the side. It's not ideal, but for Lucky, it seems to be working. She goes out dancing, she drinks a bit, she makes ends meet by doing digital art on commission. But when Lucky's grandmother has a nasty fall, Lucky returns to her childhood home and unexpectedly reconnects with her former best friend and first lover, Nisha, who is preparing for her own arranged wedding with a man she's never met.

And Tango Makes Three, Peter Parnell: At the penguin house at the Central Park Zoo, two penguins named Roy and Silo were a little bit different from the others. But their desire for a family was the same. And with the help of a kindly zookeeper, Roy and Silo got the chance to welcome a baby penguin of their very own.

More Happy Than Not, Adam Silvera: In the months following his father's suicide, sixteen-year-old Aaron Soto can't seem to find happiness again, despite the support of his girlfriend, Genevieve, and his overworked mom. Grief and the smile-shaped scar on his wrist won't let him forget the pain. But when Aaron meets Thomas, a new kid in the neighborhood, something starts to shift inside him. Aaron can't deny his unexpected feelings for Thomas despite the tensions their friendship has created with Genevieve and his tight-knit crew. Since Aaron can't stay away from Thomas or turn off his newfound happiness, he considers taking drastic actions. The Leteo Institute's revolutionary memory-altering procedure will straighten him out, even if it means forgetting who he truly is.

Melissa, Alex Gino: When people look at Melissa, they think they see a boy named George. But she knows she's not a boy. She knows she's a girl.

Melissa thinks she'll have to keep this a secret forever. Then her teacher announces that their class play is going to be Charlotte's Web. Melissa really, really, REALLY wants to play Charlotte. But the teacher says she can't even try out for the part... because she's a boy.

With the help of her best friend, Kelly, Melissa comes up with a plan. Not just so she can be Charlotte -- but so everyone can know who she is, once and for all.

A Quick & Easy Guide to Queer & Trans Identities, Mady G, Jules Zuckerberg: In this quick and easy guide to queer and trans identities, cartoonists Mady G and Jules Zuckerberg guide you through the basics of the LGBT+ world! Covering essential topics like sexuality, gender identity, coming out, and navigating relationships, this guide explains the spectrum of human experience through informative comics, interviews, worksheets, and imaginative examples. A great starting point for anyone curious about queer and trans life, and helpful for those already on their own journeys!

This Book Is Gay, Juno Dawson: This candid, funny, and uncensored exploration of sexuality and what it's like to grow up LGBTQ also includes real stories from people across the gender and sexual spectrums, not to mention hilarious illustrations.

Little & Lion, Brandy Colbert: When Suzette comes home to Los Angeles from her boarding school in New England, she's isn't sure if she'll ever want to go back. L.A. is where her friends and family are (as well as her crush, Emil). And her stepbrother, Lionel, who has been diagnosed with bipolar disorder, needs her emotional support. But as she settles into her old life, Suzette finds herself falling for someone new...the same girl her brother is in love with. When Lionel's disorder spirals out of control, Suzette is forced to confront her past mistakes and find a way to help her brother before he hurts himself--or worse.

King and the Dragonflies, Kacen Callender: Twelve-year-old Kingston James is sure his brother Khalid has turned into a dragonfly. When Khalid unexpectedly passed away, he shed what was his first skin for another to live down by the bayou in their small Louisiana town. Khalid still visits in dreams, and King must keep these secrets to himself as he watches grief transform his family.

It would be easier if King could talk with his best friend, Sandy Sanders. But just days before he died, Khalid told King to end their friendship, after overhearing a secret about Sandy-that he thinks he might be gay. "You don't want anyone to think you're gay too, do you?"

Sorted: Growing Up, Coming Out, and Finding My Place: A Transgender Memoir, Jackson Bird: An unflinching and endearing memoir from LGBTQ+ advocate Jackson Bird about how he finally sorted things out and came out as a transgender man.When Jackson Bird was twenty-five, he came out as transgender to his friends, family, and anyone in the world with an internet connection. Assigned female at birth and raised as a girl, he often wondered if he should have been born a boy. Jackson didn't share this thought with anyone because he didn't think he could share it with anyone.

The Black Flamingo, Dean Atta: Michael is a mixed-race gay teen growing up in London. All his life, he's navigated what it means to be Greek-Cypriot and Jamaican--but never quite feeling Greek or Black enough.

As he gets older, Michael's coming out is only the start of learning who he is and where he fits in. When he discovers the Drag Society, he finally finds where he belongs--and the Black Flamingo is born

Explore the full list here.

[soft-mafia]

Stealing His Coat [Buggy x Reader]

warnings: oc insert, fem reader, Buggy shouting, language, just a short, cute thing I thought of

a/n: I saw a fic that was about stealing Buggy’s jacket, and conveniently I was just thinking about wearing Buggy’s jacket myself so I decided to write about it lollllll

Buggy was flipping the whole ship upside down at this point, just to find where he misplaced his coat. “God damn it if one of you fuckers THREW MY COAT- IN THE OCEAN, I AM GOING TO RIP YOUR DICK OFF.” Buggy looked around on the deck again, then growled while clenching his jaw.

He then quickly snapped his gaze upwards when he heard giggling above him. Y/n was looking down at him from one of the crow’s nests, wearing his tan, fur jacket. Buggy inhaled, then let out an amused, annoyed, breathy laugh. “Ok. That’s cute.. now, give it back, Y/n.”

“What do you mean?” Y/n asked, acting oblivious but she knew she was pissing Buggy off. She was the only person on Buggy’s ship who would get away with doing stuff like this and still be on Buggy’s good side. Buggy inhaled and exhaled sharply again, then held his hands out, “Babe, give me my jacket.” He was smiling, but the look in his eyes would tell anybody that he was seriously about to snap.

“Hmm.” Y/n rested her arms on the ledge of the crow’s nest, looking off as if she was thinking, before looking down at him and grinning, “No.. I think I wanna keep wearing it.”

Buggy looked down, chuckling breathily and licking his teeth before growling and looking back up at Y/n, “You do this-.. every, damn, DAY. GIVE IT BACK!!” He shouted angrily at her. Y/n looked at Buggy with a dreamy look on her face, as much as she loved him— she thought he was so hot when he was mad. As much as he yelled, shouted and swore at her over silly things like these— she knew he would never purposely hurt her. He was her bitter, handsome clown and that’s what she loved about him, “Nooo.” She scrunched her nose at him, then giggled again.

Buggy growled and walked in a circle for a moment to think then he looked back up at her “Why don’t I get you your own jacket,” he tried to reason with his girlfriend. Buggy obviously wouldn’t get her the same one as his own.. he had to be the one to stand out of course, it was a fabulous jacket and Y/n was already hot enough as it was he didn’t want her getting more attention than she already got.

“I don’t want my own jacket, I want this one.” Y/n replied back to him, almost like a bratty child which made Buggy inhale through his teeth and laugh again. He put his hands on his hips. “Well you can’t have that one, cupcake.. that’s my coat.” He smiled at her. Then suddenly, his arms popped off and floated up towards her, grabbing the collar of the jacket and trying to pull it off of her himself, “Now give it back you little shit!” Buggy growled from below.

Y/n squeaked, stepping back and holding onto the jacket, holding it closed tightly to her chest so Buggy’s arms couldn’t peel it off of her body, “No!!” She tried pulling Buggy’s arms away, but he kept trying to yank and wiggle the jacket off of her. It was akin to a fight, Y/n trying to struggle away from Buggy, keeping a firm hold of the jacket while he was firmly holding it as well— trying to get it off of her.. “Move your hands!” Buggy growled through gritted teeth.

“STOP! You’re hurting me!!” Y/n lied.

It surprisingly got Buggy to pause for a second, anger leaving his face momentarily as he angled his head upwards some more to see what happened.. did he accidentally hurt her? He grimaced for a second before Y/n threw herself out of the crows nest and began to run to the lower deck.

Buggy immediately got pissed again and ran after her, “HEY!” his arms connected back to his body mid run, only his hands chasing after her this time. He grabbed her by the back of the jacket collar and lifted her up, like a kitten being held up by its scruff.

Buggy’s free hand connected back to his arm while the one holding Y/n brought her back to him so that he was holding her slightly above him. His brows were furrowed, his gorgeous eyes glaring at her like daggers, his jaw clenched. Y/n nearly melted as he glared at her, god he was attractive..

Without another word, Buggy dropped her back on the ground, his hand back on his wrist as he yanked the jacket off of her shoulders, and slid it off of her arms. “What the hell is with you and trying to steal my clothes.” He grumbled as he put his jacket onto his own body, looking down at his troublesome girlfriend. “It’s not stealing, it’s just borrowing.” Y/n giggled, she really couldn’t help it, she just felt so snug wearing Buggy’s clothing, plus the fact that they had his scent was a bonus.

“‘Borrowing’, my ass..” Buggy scoffed and put his hand around Y/n’s waist, walking her back to the deck. Y/n grinned and leaned up to kiss Buggy on the cheek, his stubble scraping over her lips just a bit, but that was the best part. A smile tugged at Buggy’s lips after that, his demeanor changing from moments ago.

[katakaluptastrophy]

You know when you're at a dinner party with God and things start to get...weird...? It's Maundy Thursday, and it's time for more Bible study for fans of weird queer necromancers!

It's currently Holy Week, the week where liturgical Christians reenact the events of Jesus' death and resurrection in real time. And today, it's Maundy Thursday, which commemorates the Last Supper, where Jesus ate with his friends before he was crucified.

Before we get to the Locked Tomb, what's so special about the Last Supper?

There are actually a few significant things that happen during the Last Supper, but this is where Jesus introduces the concept of communion:

Now as they were eating, Jesus took bread, and after blessing it broke it and gave it to the disciples, and said, “Take, eat; this is my body.” And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he gave it to them, saying, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood. - Matthew 26:26-28

This isn't actually the first time Jesus has told his followers they will need to literally eat him:

So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. - John 6:53-56

If you're thinking that sounds a bit intense, you're not alone - the Bible says that "many" of his disciples left after being told that they were apparently going to have to eat Jesus to be saved and resurrected.

While many Protestant denominations take this symbolically, Catholicism teaches transubstantiation: that when the priest prays over the bread and wine at mass, they really do become Jesus' body and blood.

With this in mind, let's circle back to necromancers:

"Overseas to Corpus. (She likes the word corpus; it sounds nice and fat.)"

This is probably Corpus Christi College, Oxford (named after the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, where the church celebrates the real presence of Jesus in the eucharist). The symbol of the college is a pelican - there's even a fabulously gilded pelican atop the sundial in their main quad.

What do pelicans have to do with the eucharist? Quite a lot, actually... The pelican is a really old symbol for Jesus, because it was believed to feed its young on its own flesh and blood in times of famine. The pelican on the Corpus Christi sundial is pecking at its own chest.

The pelican, like Jesus, was believed to give its own body to save those it loved.

Okay, so we've talked about Jesus, and weird cannibal birds, but why is this relevant to necromancers?

Specifically, the necromancer, the Necrolord Prime. John Gaius styles himself as "the god who became man", echoing Jesus as "the word became flesh". His entire pastiche of divinity is a sort of bootleg Catholicism. But while Catholicism posits Jesus' offering of his own body as foundational to the salvation and resurrection of humanity to eternal life, John's godhood relies the exploitation of other's bodies as the foundation of an empire of eternal death.

I've mentioned before in discussing Lyctorhood, how vampires have been understood to represent a sort of inversion of the eucharist because instead of consuming Christ's blood to receive eternal life in heaven, they consume other people's blood for an cursed eternal life on earth. John, and the Lyctors who followed him, gained power and eternal life from the consumption, body and soul, of another person.

In Catholic theology, Jesus offered his own body to degradation and death for the eternal salvation of humankind, but John forcibly consumes someone else's in service of his own apotheosis and immortality, dooming humanity in the process. He wants to be a Catholic flavoured god, but without the suffering that entails. But he's perfectly willing to outsource that suffering to others.

There's something just achingly awful about Alecto liking the feel of the word "corpus" - "body" - when she so hates the body that John constructed for her. John describing Alecto as "in a very real way" the mother of humanity and the mother pelican on the Corpus sundial rending her own flesh for her children. John forcing the earth into a personification of femininity and playing Jesus on another's sacrifice. His daughter, unwillingly trapped in her own corpse walking around with the wounds of her significant self-sacrifice like the resurrected Christ but yet again another body exploited by John in support of his performance of godhood. It brings to mind a very different fantastical engagement with Catholicism, where in the Lord of the Rings Tolkien - riffing on St Augustine - suggested that evil cannot create, it can only mock and corrupt. The ethics of The Locked Tomb may be messier than that, but there's something indicative in how John shies away from his creative powers - his abilities to grow plants, and manipulate earth and water - in favour of his dominion over death.

The metaphysical world of The Locked Tomb is clearly not intended to be the same as that of Catholicism. But with hindsight, perhaps John was onto something when he was surprised that he didn't "get the Antichrist bit" from the nun too.

John isn't the Antichrist. But he is, thematically, anti-Christ.

If we're talking about John and Jesus, there's also, of course, the question of Resurrection. But we've got to go through Hell and back before we get there on Sunday...

[ruthlessrps]

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟕) 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. - feel free to make any adjustments as necessary!

"what is the measure of a true hero?"

"will you listen to him?"

"lighten up, dude."

"i'll take it from here, darling."

"it was a nasty place."

"behave yourself."

"look how cute he is."

"he's strong. like his dad."

"keep those away from the baby."

"let the kid have a little fun."

"is this an audience or a mosaic?"

"there's the little sunspot."

"i regrettably have a full time gig."

"you'll work yourself to death."

"i know you know."

"did you cut your hair or something? you look fabulous."

"my fate is in your lovely hands."

"okay, fine, fine. i'm cool, i'm fine."

"how do you kill a god?"

"perhaps they've answered our prayers."

"that boy is a menace."

"he's too dangerous to be around normal people."

"he didn't mean any harm. he's just a kid."

"i'm warning you. keep that freak away from here."

"you shouldn't let those things they said back there get to you."

"i try to fit in, i just can't."

"i feel like i really don't belong here."

"i have often dreamed of a far-off place."

"this is where i'm meant to be."

"i know every mile will be worth my while."

"i would go almost anywhere to feel like i belong."

"it's the symbol of the gods."

"you're old enough now to know the truth."

"how do you become a true hero?"

"i will please the gods."

"you sure this is the right place?"

"haven't you ever had a dream?"

"come inside. i want to show you something."

"every single one of those bums let me down."

"dreams are for rookies."

"i'm different from those other guys."

"i'm too old to get mixed up in this stuff again."

"i'm down to one last hope."

"you're not exactly a dream come true."

"you'll have to do."

"now that's more like it!"

"you want a road test? saddle up, kid."

"not so fast, sweetheart."

"i'm a damsel, i'm in distress, i can handle this."

"what are you doing? get your sword."

"a hero's only as good as his weapon."

"is wonderboy here for real?"

"at least i beat him, didn't i?"

"did they give you a name along with all those rippling pectorals?"

"are you always this articulate?"

"who are you calling a rodent?"

"he comes on with his innocent farm boy routine, but i can see through that in a new york minute."

"people here are nuts because they live in a city of turmoil."

"it seems to me that what you folks need is a hero."

"i have this terrible fear of heights."

"try to be a little bit more careful next time."

"i don't think we covered this one in basic training."

"you gotta admit - that was pretty heroic."

"he was so hot steam looked cool."

"everybody's got a weakness."

"there is nothing you can't do."

"it's great to see you. i missed you."

"you sound like you could use a break."

"i didn't know playing hooky could be so much fun."

"wonderboy, you are perfect."

"when i was a kid i would've given anything to be exactly like everybody else."

"you're the most amazing person i've ever met."

"when i'm with you i don't feel so alone."

"i would never ever hurt you."

"let's both do ourselves a favour and stop this."

"that's it. next time, i drive."

"no man is worth the aggravation."

"get yourself another girl. i'm through."

"i can't believe you're getting so worked up about some guy."

"people are gonna get hurt, aren't they?"

"now you know how it feels to be just like everyone else."

"i know what i did was wrong, but this isn't about me."

"if you don't help him now, he'll die."

"people always do crazy things when they're in love."

[books-and-omens]

God. I. I absolutely cannot sleep. And it’s nearly morning.

GOD.

Aziraphale, no.

Aziraphale. You are being manipulated. You are being showered with praise and acceptance that you have never received before, not like this. You are being told that you did extremely well, that you are the best of the best. This is *deliberate*. Metatron has never been on your side, he is telling you exactly what you want to hear. What you’ve been craving for the last four years, and for the six thousand years prior.

But they have plans for you, Aziraphale. They want you Upstairs so that you could do exactly what they need.

Aziraphale, stop.

(I’ll have to rewatch this. Have to collect the instances where Aziraphale is looking for approval. Fiercely hoping for approval. Throughout history, yes, and recently, too: those telephone calls after the Armageddon’t where he wanted Crowley to witness the good he’d s been doing. That burning need to tell someone that he did well and to hear it acknowledged.

Oh, Aziraphale is not at all taking his retirement from Heaven well.)

GOD.

You know what, I think Aziraphale is absolutely coming undone by the end. That process is certainly in full swing by the ball.

Because seriously.

The ball. The absolute fabulous madness of it. The drapery. The chandelier. Aziraphale going all-out with the miracles, retreating to the safety of Jane Austen where things go right and love prevails.

(Inviting Crowley to dance, too. Pulling him by the hand.)

Notice, too, Aziraphale’s desperate insistence that things cannot possibly be as bad as Crowley thinks they are. What a level of denial. Everything is fine, he is telling himself. Everything will be fine. I’m setting everything up perfectly to explain the big miracle, to avoid the existential threat we are both facing. We will be fine, nothing will really have to change, and I will still have Crowley.

(Oh, the vehemence. Close your eyes and pretend you are in another century. Don’t open them. Do not open them. Everything is fine.)

And—

Aziraphale is not handling retirement from Heaven well, but that’s only one of the things that are happening, isn’t it.

The danger to both of them is real. Crowley, too, is under existential threat (which Shax has helpfully reminds Aziraphale of, of course she does). They are not safe; they will never be safe while they are exiles, while Heaven and Hell can threaten both of them on a whim, while shining archangels can drop by at any point.

So what Metatron is offering at the very end is the power to do good and be appreciated, but also safety. You can be safe, he promises, your demon can be safe. You can even be with him, just as you are now—except you won’t be powerless against the rest of the world.

You won’t have to be fugitives, not any more. Not like you are now.

(It’s a lie. We know it’s a lie.

And Metatron must know full well that Crowley would never accept the terms as stated.)

They witness another thing, of course. Gabe and Beez. Their happily-ever-after.

There in the moment, Crowley is probably looking at them and thinking: we could do this. We could go off together. Yes?

Except this kind of a happy ending, Gabe and Beez being left alone but exiled, wouldn’t be a happy ending for Aziraphale and Crowley.

They’ve been in this exact place before. “We can go off together!”

And as before, this won’t work.

They have the Earth. They care about the Earth a lot, both of them. Aziraphale wants to win approval, yes, but he also very sincerely wants to make things better, to do what’s right, to be the change. And he wants, too, to win safety for him and Crowley. Wants them to be together, side by side; wants that to be allowed.

Wants them to do the right thing together. To have the power to do the right thing.

And everything they have built together falls apart.

(Angel.

Fucking Hell.

Stop the elevator between the floors. Get out. Get the fuck out. Get back.

Angel. You haven’t even seen what Crowley has seen in Heaven. What they were planning. What they need you for.

Angel.

NOT. LIKE. THAT.)

[minervas-hand]

Right to fear, wrong to believe

Just had a horrible realization and needed to meta it out.

How different they were before Edinburgh, when Crowley was sucked down into Hell.

Look at this flirty babygirl in the Bastille:

I mean could he climb that tree any faster?

(This is why I really like fics that place a more physical relationship here, pre-Bastille or just post-Bastille, because c'mon look at them. )

In S1 the next thing is 1862 and Crowley asking for insurance (with a cane ffs). And Aziraphale freaking out with his "fraternizing" BS. It's jarring, until we get 1827 filled in for us in S2.

@takeme-totheworld notes in this post:

Crowley sure went from "our respective head offices don't actually care how things get done" and "nobody ever has to know" to "walls have ears" FAST after Edinburgh. And Aziraphale went from looking at Crowley with hearts in his eyes to "I've been FrAtErNiZiNg" just as quickly. I'm more convinced than ever that Edinburgh was the first time Crowley ever actually got caught and punished for fucking around with Aziraphale/doing good deeds/whatever it was they yanked him back down to Hell for, and it scared the absolute shit out of both of them and changed the whole tone of their relationship after that.

Yes! - it's clear to me as well that the Edinburgh graveyard was a very bad turning point, where they both saw that Hell was listening and would intervene. And it did change their relationship drastically, for over a century and a half (really, until looming Armageddon loosened up the stakes for them).

But what about Heaven?

See the thing is, we know Azi's been worried about Heaven watching him for the past 6000 years.

But they haven't.

[GIFs posted by starrose17]

All this time, and Heaven had not seen them together. Hadn't noticed. Had not even LOOKED.

I want to mention what @starrose17 says about this here in this post:

What I love about this is her choice of words, “went back through the Earth Observation files.” This implies that these photos were already filed somewhere meaning somebody had to have been watching them which meant somewhere in the depths of the bureaucratic heaven there’s an underpaid angel clerk tasked with watching angels on Earth, and he’s been hording photos of his favourite Angel/Demon couple not reporting them to Michael because he wants to see what happens.

And that's exactly what this fic covers!: Spying Omens by @ednav

(Give this a read, it's fabulous.)

While I am here for this being exactly how that happens, the other scenario is colder and worse - there's no one watching, at all. It's just filing automatically and never seen until some Scrivener is called to pull a file.

From @fuckyeahisawthatat's comment here :

I found this scene to be quite chilling, actually. Not only is the idea of Heaven as a surveillance state brilliant (way to make “God is always watching” sound way more ominous) but this is exactly how modern surveillance states work. They don’t actively watch everybody all the time. That’s not physically possible for humans, and even if it is metaphysically possible for Heaven, it’s not a very efficient use of resources. Surveillance states watch people they deem “suspicious.” And once you’ve been put in the category of “suspicious,” they have massive amounts of data that they can comb through to collect a lot of information about you–to retroactively build a case justifying why you’re suspicious, to collect information about where you go and who you associate with, etc.

Yes.

So we either have secret collusion in the rank and file, or we have a surveillance state that is constantly reinforced to its subjects for fear's sake, for control.

(Well, it obviously could be both.)

BUT my point is… Up until Edinburgh, Hell has not been watching (or caring at least). And up until near the end of Armageddon't, neither has Heaven.

Oh, my poor Angel. Thousands of years, of denying yourself, of pushing Crowley away, of carrying around a tension that is it's own constellation.

After 1827 you might have reason, but for the 5000+ years before that?

Thousands of years and Heaven was not watching nor cared.

You were right to fear. And you were wrong to believe.

And that just breaks my heart.

[stvolanis]

What about rafe with a reader who talks a lot land has a bubbly personality and he’s getting annoyed cause she’s just talking on and on and he’s already in a bad mood and so her just talking he’s getting annoyed and like he makes a comment of “why don’t you stop talking and put your mouth to a better use” (sorry for how badly worded this is)

hi! I kinda imagine this as maybe bestfriend!Rafe who kinda manipulates the reader yk? Also knocking two birds w/ one stone by adding a little bit from a different request, hope you don’t mind!💞

Rafe Cameron! who loves his silly little best friend who he’s had a claim on since 6th grade :). Always so sweet to him when you guys were in school together. Giving him the answers, walking with him to all your classes, rides home after school with you on aux cause how could he ever say no to you? Not to mention the fact that he knew you harbored a little crush on him—

Rafe Cameron! Who knew you were heavily inexperienced in the sexual realm of things, which he made sure of after he beat up every guy who even thought they’d be able to breathe the same air as you. He takes great pride in being able to teach you things no one else will. Of course you’d question it, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes that make his cock pulse with confusion when you guys were in the back seat of his truck one day. “Rafey, I dunno if we should do this—feels weird.” You muttered, your hand tightly wrapped around his cock with his hand shoved down your pants. “Thought you wanted to take care of me, sweetheart? This is just what best friends are supposed to do.”

Rafe Cameron! Who’s been having an exhaustingly annoying day after another group fight between the kooks and pogues. He’s a little scratched up, moping around your house as you go on and on about why he shouldn’t have fought, what could have happened—and then suddenly trailing off to your favorite pasta shell? It was hurting his head. Too much for him to process as he rubbed his temple, watching you babble mindlessly.

Rafe Cameron! Who finally has had enough of your constant yapping. “God, baby, you ever shut the fuck up? Hm? Jus’ be fuckin’ quiet, little girl.” He hissed through clenched teeth, pinching your cheeks together harshly to cease your talking, yet the way your eyes watered and thighs clenched together didn’t go unnoticed. “Think you jus’ need somethin’ stuffed in there so you’ll shut up. That it?” He mocked. You looked up at him from your knees, confused as to what he was referring to.

Rafe Cameron! Who’s cock slapped against your waiting tongue in a taunting manner. Curved slightly, with trimmed hair at the base and heavy balls. His scent strong, consuming your mind with an aching throb between your thighs you knew only Rafe could help. “Gonna teach you how to suck dick like a pro, kay?” He urged, pushing his fat tip into your mouth, further and further till the sounds of you gagging and gasping for air around him was all he could hear, and tears running down your pretty face was all he could see. “That’s my girl. See? All you needed was some good dick to shut cha’little ass up, huh?” He cooed.

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

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