#god there’s so much more on twitter but i beg if you look do NOT look at non-palestinian sources

[favroitecrime]

Palestinian freedom fighters breaking out of Gaza and reclaiming their occupied territories. They’ve taken over israeli tanks and have chased out the settlers that were on that land. They’ve launched rockets everywhere and the iron dome has failed to intercept. This is about to mark a momentous event in history.

From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free.

[55szn]

good luck - mv1

max verstappen x fem!reader smau

summary when max and y/n adopt a black cat and everyone thinks it’s bringing him bad luck, they are determined to prove them wrong

warnings none i think

fc various girls from pinterest

notes requested!💘 loved this so muchhajska (excuse my poor editing skills on this one lol)

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[new child just dropped, everyone say hi to mocha🐾][same mocha, same @ maxverstappen1]

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maxverstappen1 not having the season we expected, lots of work ahead.😑

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yourusername ❤️ liked by maxverstappen1

user male acting performance where he’s having the worst day of his life but looks so hot doing it:

user girlsnjasfkja😭

user i’m being so serious rn you HAVE to give that cat to someone else

user first dnf i laughed… second dnf i serioused

user dw i played the dutch anthem at home for you king🧡🧡

user IT’S OKAY POOKIE YOU ARE GONNA WIN ALL OTHER RACES😖😖😖

user not if he doesn’t get rid of that cat lol

maxverstappen1 just uploaded to their story!

[😍🐈‍⬛ @ yourusername] [when the cat steals your gf😑]

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yourusername certified dilf‼️

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maxverstappen1 the last pic??

yourusername gave me dad vibes idk

user so true

user what are the odds of max getting a black cat and immediately starting to get bad results

user ikr

user just a coincidence 🤷‍♀️

user one time thing is a coincidence, two dnfs in a row and then not being able to get a single win in many races… sounds like “black cat curse” to me sorry

user get rid of the cat if you want him to win the championship i’m BEGGING🙏🏻🙏🏻😫😫

user you guys are so ridiculous

user mocha with the max plush omgggggg i might die🥹🥹🥹🥹

user idc what anyone says he is gonna win the championship again and mocha will be forgiven you read it here first

user cat crazy lady + cat crazy dude = perfect match💘

FEW MONTHS LATER

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yourusername black cat bring good luck 😺 not bad luck 😾 so so proud of you maxie🧡

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maxverstappen1 my girls🫶🏻🥰

maxverstappen1 love you❤️

yourusername love you more dilf💘

user just unserious as fuck😭😭

user max calling the cat and yn “his girls” like mocha is his daughter or smth😭

user she is his daughter wdym

redbullracing what an adorable lucky charm😺🍀

yourusername you know it🫡

user queen 🙏🏻

user I KNOW WHO MY GOAT IS🐐🐐 (mocha)

user mocha redemption arc ohhh i’ve been waiting for this one

user FR I ALWAYS BELIEVED IN YOU MOCHA😫

user THEY GOT MOCHA A PADDOCK PASS IM CRYINGGG

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user please god i also want to raise a black kitty with my incredibly hot bf😔😔

user oh to be mocha…

user you don’t understand this lil family is EVERYTHING to me☹️☹️

[subway-tolkien]

Okay, this is 1600 words of (positive!) meta regarding the OFMD finale. Included is character analysis and a treatise on why a certain trope people keep throwing around does not apply here.

This is of course just my take, and I'm sure people will disagree, but I needed to get this out. Apologies if it comes off disjointed, I've had like no sleep.

Spoilers within, obviously. You have been warned. Heed the tags. I didn't tag any characters because I consider it a spoiler, but you know who this is about.

Listen. Listen.

Let me start off by saying I have been where you are. I’ve had beloved characters die, either because it was important to the narrative or for shock value. I’ve been there, so I’m not coming at this without empathy. I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him as a character. I’m truly sad to see him go.

But from what I’m seeing around Twitter and tumblr, some of you do not understand the role of an antagonist in a story.

Izzy was always meant to die. The moment he said, in the first season, “the only retirement we get is death,” I knew he was meant to die in the end. The foreshadowing ran through both seasons. Izzy was the true antagonist of S1. He was there to keep Blackbeard tethered when he started pulling away, and yet he also set the plot in motion. He inadvertently introduced Blackbeard to the person who let him be just Ed. He put Ed on his own path to redemption without even knowing it.

S1 ended with Izzy getting what he wanted as Ed lost everything he had. S2 was about Izzy coming to terms with the fact that he’d gone too far, he’d turned Ed into a monster. It wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted Blackbeard back, just like old times. Instead, he got the Kraken, and it was more than he bargained for.

Especially after it cost him his leg and he realized how far gone Ed really was. The conversation that ended with Izzy’s half-assed suicide attempt was the final blow to Izzy—Ed really didn’t seem to care anymore. Where Izzy wanted him to stop giving a shit about his silly boyfriend, he instead got a Blackbeard who didn’t care about anything, and he was apparently now included in that category.

(I said half-assed suicide attempt because Izzy wasn’t meant to die then, THAT would have been an empty, pointless death. It wouldn’t have taught Ed anything—in fact, all it did was make him more self-destructive, which was Izzy’s purpose to the narrative, but not his endgame. That Ed thought Izzy killed himself pushed Ed to the brink. Ed wanted to die and take every scrap of Blackbeard with him. Had Izzy successfully killed himself, Ed and the Revenge would be at the bottom of the ocean.

It wasn’t until the crew left Izzy the unicorn leg that he realized the power of compassion, the incredible act of grace from a crew that suffered so much from Izzy’s own machinations and didn't need to forgive him. It moved him to tears, and it moved him to accept that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to let people in, to let himself be cared for. It was a foreign concept and something Izzy likely hadn’t experienced since losing his family (I fully expect a shit ton of fanfic of Izzy’s life before piracy).

Israel Hands found the capacity to let love all the way in and by god, did he pursue it.

But, again, Izzy was always meant to die, and I’m glad they stuck to the narrative they set out with instead of placating fandom and letting our influence dictate how they told this story That’s never good, trust me. Fandom should not influence a creator’s decisions regarding their own characters. It rarely if ever ends well.

[Stares in Voltron S8]

And I see a lot of people out here throwing the “bury your gays” phrase around—I beg you, please look up the definition of the trope. Izzy didn’t die because he was queer, he didn’t die because of his disability. He wasn’t one half of the only queer couple in the show fridged for shock value. He wasn’t killed off due to pressure from conservative viewers. He wasn’t the only queer, disabled character.

They didn’t kill off Lucius, or Jackie, or Wee John. Would you be as outraged if it was any of them?

Killing Eve is bury your gays. Supernatural is bury your gays. Pretty much any film, book, TV show, whatever, where a queer character dies because they’re queer, of AIDs, to further the narrative for a straight person, etc—that is burying your gays.

Izzy’s death was none of those things. Izzy’s death had meaning.

Izzy’s death freed Ed from the Blackbeard persona. It finally forced Izzy to say the things he couldn’t say until he realized it was his last chance. Izzy was also tired. I honestly think he stuck it out for Ed’s sake, because he was afraid to let Blackbeard go without making sure Ed would be ok.

He loved the idea of Blackbeard, but over time, he learned to love Ed. He finally understood what Ed tried to tell him the whole time.

“Fuck off, you twat. You’re surrounded by family.”

You’re safe. You’re loved. You don’t need me anymore. You don’t need to be reminded of who you’re capable of being, you need the people who will guide you to who you will become, and I’m not one of them.

I know a lot of Izzy fans are stung by his death, some of you are deeply upset. I get that. Like I said, I’ve been there. Sirius’s death made me throw that fucking book across the room. That Fucking Woman™ killed off my entire OTP, purely for shock value and, imho, a direct response to shippers. Trust me, I have felt betrayed by a creator for their decisions.

But I need you to understand that no, this was not a personal attack, this was not malicious, this was not “bury your gays." A show that celebrates queerness and diversity is not suddenly homophobic and ableist because your favorite character died and happened to be both of those things. But when the majority of your cast of characters is different in some way, and they’re in a show about 18th century pirates, you have to accept that one of them could, in fact, die. “Anyone Can Die” is also a trope and the more accurate one to describe E8.

If only being queer and disabled made you invincible.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

And no, I’m not an Izzy hater. I loved him, I loved him as an antagonist, and I loved his redemption arc. He was fascinating and Con put his whole O’Nussy into that part. I’m sorry to see him go, but as a mystery writer who often has to kill off beloved characters, I understand that he served the purpose he had from the beginning.

I swear, if some of you had your way, there’d be no conflict at all in any form of media. This what a steady diet of nothing but fanfic gets you. This is not a fluffy one-shot with magical healing dick and a happy ending where everyone sails off into the sunset. If that’s what you wanted, what you headcanoned, you did this to yourself. It’s not David et al’s fault that we took that character and babygirled him. That’s the risk we take when we decide to love a specific character, when we take a genuinely terrible person (in S1) and woobify him.

So, please stop harassing and attacking David, Alex, et al. David did not and should not change his story to placate us. The fact he went ahead with it despite the backlash I’m sure he expected makes me respect him as a creator even more.

Anyway, I’m going to revel that we have three (!) queer relationships with happy endings where one or both didn’t immediately die (again, the actual definition of “bury your gays”) and that we got at least two seasons of a little show that celebrated individualism, diversity, queerness, compassion, and love.

In the end, it all came down to love.

“There he is.”

Goodbye, Blackbeard.

Hello, Ed.

[hyuckswoman]

« i’m so stupid to have believed you when you said you would only take a minute  to get ready » your friend hanbin says

the both of you were currently heading towards the gymnasium, actually going to see the basketball match instead of changing your plans last minute like the both of you usually do 

« what can I say? a lady must take her time upon preparing herself » you answer slightly shoving your friend as yes, technically he did have every right to complain but he had been doing so for the past half an hour. 

« lady my ass, you still look just as ugly » your friend says as you gasp and before you could even respond, somebody had beat you to it 

« y/n is not ugly how dare you say that » your friend jaemin (whom you had not seen) accompanied by his 5 friends greeted you 

« yea listen to jaemin i am not ugly » you retorted as hanbin just rolled his eyes and sighed

« what brings you here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a game before » jisung asks, curious and lowkey surprised to see you in an athletic vicinity (the man did not think of you as highly athletic you presume)

« some guy tried to ask her out and since she wasn’t down he also asked me to go to the game with her so we’re here now » hanbin replies all too nonchalantly, you’re low key appalled at the twisted version of the events your friend is telling. 

« that is quite literally not what happened, the guy you see over there just told me i should come to the game and invite hanbin too » you reply clarifying 

« sooo, it’s exactly as hanbin described it » mark said. 

you couldn’t have your man think that he has any competition when it comes to you (not that he cares anyway, this is very much a one sided relationship and you know it). but still, upon seeing the five other men nod you truly start to wonder if all of them are just collectively stupid because they’re men or if you’re the one that’s being dense 

« OH! you’ll get to meet chenle, he’s been wanting to meet you for awhile- speak of the devil there he is! » your friend jaemin starts then waves at a man that is currently running towards all of you 

« you guys actually came -» chenle starts before being cut off by hyuck « yea we did » . while all of the guys sigh and shake their heads you’re snickering as that is 100% a joke you could’ve made yourself, and meeting eyes with your friend hanbin that’s giving you a look that screams ‘this is a joke you could’ve made’ gives you all the reassurance you would need. 

the loud noises erupting from the stadium managed to drown out the voices of the friend group in front of you. it isn’t until you hear your name being said that you realize not only where you are but who you’re with 

« it’s good to meet you, i was feeling left out as i was the only one who hadn’t met you yet. I wish i could speak more but i need to go back to stretch a bit before the match, talk to you after? » chenle asks, to which you only nod before he scurries back to his team

that’s right, chenle IS a basketball player of course his friends would be there.. 

« cmon guys, let’s go sit » jeno hurries all of you as he wants to get good seats before ‘the fangirls arrive’ (you secretly thank god the man doesn’t know about your little mark obsession seeing how he feels towards the basketball groupies)

« dude what if during the game a basketball comes flying to your head and your man catches it going like ‘you alright’ tryna rizz you up just like the meme you posted on twitter yesterday » hanbin whispers, still all too loudly for your liking tho 

« i beg of you to shut the fuck up the man is quite literally three people away from you » you whisper back slightly pinching his arm as he winces in pain.

 you can’t have mark know about your delusions. ever. 

and even though the seating system (hanbin, you, jaemin, jisung, mark, haechan and jeno) would make it difficult for mark to hear the whispers you share about him you don’t want to take any chances. you are practically surrounded by his friends after all. 

and two hours later the match was done, chenle’s team winning of course and you were heading out when the guys stopped both you and hanbin 

« we’re going to celebrate, not sure how yet but you guys wanna join? » jeno asks and hanbin agrees without even caring if you wanted to join them or not. when confronting him the only thing he replied was «what? we’ll probably get free food or drinks outta this, you should thank me ». the audacity of a bitch. 

25. the game

previous chapter masterlist next chapter

notes: i'm back with another (written chapter) hope you guys don't mind the written bits cause there are more coming lol (also sorry to user @jising-jisang-jisung i really tried to make mark say it but i couldn't so.. sorry)

also to the anon that requested the jaehyun or huyk fic i am working on that i'm sorry to be so slow i'll try to publish it asap!

as always, requests/reaction/anything are open and appreciated!! hope you guys have/had a lovely day!

taglist (open): @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg

[neruro]

my dear streamer,

✧˚ · . all our eyes are on you!

- character/s: scaramouche x reader

- notes: 1.3k words, streamer au, angst(?), reverse comfort

Trending on Twitter, always on the front page of Twitch, article after article being posted about how he was the year’s most beloved streamer.

Any sliver of his face being shown to the public was obsessed on by his fans. Any girl he was rumored to be friendly with was the target of jealous fangirls. A missed stream had his fans taking to Twitter, and the cycle would start all over again.

Until it all stopped.

For a few hours on a Sunday, it felt like the world stilled. No stream schedule like usual, no tweet degrading a desperate fan, no one in his circle tagging him in tweets... His fans lived a few hours of their life without him.

Until they realized something was wrong, of course.

Suddenly Twitter was blowing up with his hashtag asking where he was. The streamer’s notifications were getting more noticeable each hour of no contact with his adoring, devoted, obsessive fans. ‘Where are you?’ turned into assumptions, rumors, only getting worse and more maddening as the minutes ticked on the clock.

They weren’t doing anything wrong, of course! Just wondering where their dear streamer has gone! Their dear streamer has left them without a word, they deserve an explanation! He should be thankful he has so many supporters who care for him.

And yet the streamer sat curled up on his bed, indigo eyes blurred and unfocused, dark hair messy and unbrushed, pale, slender fingers trembling as he looked for a familiar face in his contacts. His breathy voice was shaky and unstable as he murmured under his breath, hugging his knees closer to his chest in a futile effort to soothe himself in any way.

“Please, please, please pick up...” He begged, hearing the phone ring.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Eventually he heard your voice. So precious and calming through the horrid noise that clouded his mind. Ah, right. You were probably tired, weren’t you? You deserved all the rest in the world, not having him call you and disturb your much needed slumber.

“... Scara?” Your voice said, rusty from sleep. “You okay? It’s really late.”

He stayed silent for a moment. Why he needed you in particular, he didn't really know. Childe slept in the room beside his, and Albedo was online around this time, preoccupied with art. It would be easier to talk to them, he would feel like less of a burden if he just sucked it up, no one would have to worry if he went online and continued on as usual. But he just couldn’t help but rant, beg, plead for you. How selfish of him.

“... Please.” Scaramouche choked out. "Please, please, please. Can you come over? I- I really can't... I need you."

After a brief moment of hesitation that allowed his thoughts to haunt him, he heard you respond.

"... I'll be right there." You said softly, without question. "Don't do anything stupid, okay? Stay in your room."

He felt sick to his stomach. You were leaving your cozy bedroom that he loved so much to go to him. He didn't deserve this for breaking down about the job he was so privileged to have in the first place. Shouldn't he be happy...?

All the commotion was his fault, naturally.

When he finally dipped his toes in the water to try and become a streamer, he didn't care about the hate. The harsh words, the eyes on his every move, the fact that the only thing separating his dual lives was the face reveal that he had teased relentlessly. In fact, he relished in it. He loved seeing the numbers of his viewers on every stream go up to the thousands, he loved seeing hate accounts who's entire life revolved around him, the attention felt like it was exactly what he needed.

To them, he was a god, and they were his mortal followers. He was the object of all their adoration, and he happily played the part. He was needed by so many people, he could make them upset or happy whenever he wanted to. It was positively exhilarating.

He wanted their love, he wanted all of their attention. But it wasn't enough. No, it was never enough. At the end of the day, they didn't know who he was. They can't care for him past the surface. At the end of the day, he didn't have anything to fill the void in his chest, to cure his heart from all of its rotting.

But he didn't deserve it! He was the one at the mercy of his fans! He owed them everything! Everything they asked, everything they demanded, it was his job to give it! He's the puppet, and this is their show, pulling the strings as he flailed about.

These thoughts replayed in his mind.

Over,

and over,

and over again.

They were loud, they were ringing in his ears. It was too much, yet not enough. He needed it to stop, but he needed more.

His thoughts led to you. Among everyone's love, he wanted yours the most. The sweetest dessert that he would happily eat. He wanted to be selfish. He wanted to take all your love until he had none left. Surely then... His heart would stop aching, right? Would you be the one to finally save him after he begged for a cure for so long?

Even if you deemed him a failure, he would beg for you to act out all your love, even if it was fake. You could hate him, you could hurt him, but never take your eyes off him.

"Can this really be love?" He wanted to ask as you sat on his bed beside him, offering him the bitter tea he liked. To know that you brewed this tea for him, by your own hand... He was in debt to someone else today.

"You don't have to do this, Scara." You whispered, putting the cup on his nightstand after he was done with it. "... Streaming, I mean– I've seen the commotion... And what it seems it's done to you..."

You trailed off, waiting patiently for him to respond. He wondered if you understood how he felt. Did the dark, ugly thoughts plague your mind too? You were human too, a beautiful one... Were you stronger than him too?

Whatever the answer was, please tell him he's not alone, then you wouldn't be alone either. To him, it's okay to lie. This is all based off lies anyway.

"... It wouldn't be enough." He shook his head. "I... I can't stop. I need this. I want everyone to keep looking at me, to keep on feeding me all this no matter the cost."

He looked up at you, unshed tears in his eyes. His trembling hands found purchase on your shirt and a shaky breath left his lips. "Can I... Rely on you to do this too?" He asked. "I need you the most."

He didn't know why he needed you, but the words you spoke, the way you touched him– He thought he could make a decent guess.

"Scara..." You sighed again, a hand stroking his hair. "I don't want you to cry anymore. So... Take a break. Go on hiatus. I'll be here to take care of you, okay?"

You were silent for a moment. "I'll give you my everything the day you reconcile with yourself. I promise." You told him. "But... If all my love is what you need to help you, you already have it."

It wasn't enough.

But it came pretty close. Once a promise was spoken, there would be no more lies. No betrayal. If you would make a promise, then he would too.

'... Even after I pay off my debt to you... I'll give you my all. This puppet show is dedicated to you.'

[proxima-writes]

𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐀, 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓?

PAIRING: Ex-Boyfriend!Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

RATING: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

WORD COUNT: 3k

SUMMARY:

Your ex-boyfriend, Dieter Bravo, is in town and sends you a text. Meeting up with an ex, especially one you’re still in love with, is a bad idea, right? Based on the song “bad idea, right?” by Olivia Rodrigo

DEAR READER:

My first Dieter Bravo fic! If you enjoy, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging 💕 You can also support my writing through my kofi Dividers and banners by @saradika

CONTENT WARNINGS:

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), no use of y/n, no referenced age difference, dubcon - alcohol consumption prior to sexual activity, domme/sub dynamics, sub!dieter, teasing, masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), praise, pet names, begging, unprotected p in v, love confessions, dieter being bad with feelings and words. please let me know if any are missing!

Dieter sits on the couch in the penthouse hotel room he's currently renting in New York, phone in one hand and a fresh Salty Dog in the other. The TV flickers with a porn he rented after not finding anything worth watching on the limited number of free channels and to be honest, he likes the background noise of moans and skin slapping against skin to fill the silent void.

He scrolls through Twitter as he sips his drink. There's one tweet that catches his eye, a familiar name in the hashtag that gives him pause. A glutton for punishment, he clicks the hashtag, his screen flooded with cell phone quality pictures of you, enjoying a night out.

In New York.

It's a blurry photo of you on a rooftop in a sexy outfit that looks like it was made just for you, a shimmery black fabric hugging all your curves just right. You're surrounded by people he doesn't recognize and your head is thrown back in an easy laugh.

Dieter frowns. He used to make you laugh like that.

Dieter scrolls some more, a glutton for punishment, and comes across another picture, a different angle, but this time there's a man leaning into your space, mouth close to your ear and an arm settled at the base of your spine. He takes a hearty sip of his drink, wincing at the bitter taste as he sets the glass on the coffee table.

He closes Twitter and opens his messages, scrolling until he finds your name.

wyd?

Your phone buzzes in your hand and the name that flashes across the screen has your breath catching.

Dieter: wyd?

You roll your eyes at the message. Of course.

You set your phone down on the table and look up, catching the judgmental stare of your best friend, Melanie.

"What?" You ask. She raises her eyebrows at you.

"That was very much the Dieter Bravo eye roll," she says, tone accusatory. "Did he just text you?"

"No."

Your phone buzzes a second time and her eyes drop to the screen, her hand reaching across the table to snatch it before you even have time to blink.

"'I'm in New York'?" She reads. "Oh my god, he did not send you a 'wyd' text!"

You're in a nice restaurant with a six month long waitlist for a reservation so you're desperately trying to keep yourself from launching across the table at her to get your phone back but the urge is certainly strong. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you hold your hand out to her. "Give me my phone."

"Are you going to text him back?"

"No." Yes.

The look she gives you momentarily leaves you wondering if she can actually read minds. You straighten yourself in your seat, tilting your chin defiantly as you say, "I am a grown adult who can make her own decisions."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you always make good ones," Melanie replies, handing you your phone.

"It's a bad idea, right?" You ask. "Like...an extremely bad one?"

"Catastrophic even," she agrees. “He’s your ex for a reason!”

“Okay, but can’t two people reconnect? Isn’t the goal to be like…friends or something?”

You stare at each other for a moment. Her smile falters. "Oh my god, you're going to answer."

"I'm going to answer." Your fingers fly across the screen and hit send before you allow your logic to return.

Address?

The car you ordered pulls up to a boutique hotel, the kind that has a symbol for its sign instead of a name, and the driver comes around the front of the car and opens the door for you, holding a hand out to help you from your seat. You thank him and take a deep breath before entering the glittering lobby.

There's a separate elevator for the penthouse suite and the attendant on duty asks for your name, checking an iPad in his hands before pressing the button with a gloved fingertip. Once the car arrives and the shiny golden doors silently slide open, you step inside.

You stare at your reflection in the doors as the elevator rises, wondering why you're doing this. Your relationship with the actor lasted about eight months - long enough for you to fall in love and long enough for him to decide he was bored of you. After citing scheduling issues as his reason for breaking things off, you went back to hearing about him rather than from him and trying to fix the cracks in your life that he had left behind.

When the elevator stops and the doors slide open, Dieter is standing there with his familiar messy brown curls in disarray, a hotel robe open over his chest and tied loosely around his waist. He opens his arms wide as he grins.

"Hey, baby. Miss me?" He asks. You roll your eyes.

"Like a cavity, Bravo,” you reply, but your feet still guide you forward and you let yourself get enveloped in his embrace, the familiar smell of faded cologne and weed invading your senses. “Why did you text me?”

“Why did you come?” He asks.

“I asked you first.” You pull away, stepping around him and entering the living room of the large suite.

“You want a drink? I got you that wine you like,” Dieter says, pulling a bottle from an ice bucket set on a room service cart. He holds a glass up and you nod, watching as he fights with the corkscrew.

He finally gets the bottle popped, pouring each glass to the brim and stepping carefully across the room with one in each hand, settling beside you on the couch. He passes one to you and you take a quick sip to prevent disaster. Dieter opts to chug half of his serving in one go.

“So,” he says, drawing the word out, “You wanna have sex with me?”

You drain the rest of your glass, leaning forward to set it on the coffee table beside his. You kick your heels off, shifting in your seat until you’ve got your knees beneath you, pressed into the cushion. Planting a hand on his shoulder for stability, you swing one leg over him and settle on his lap.

“This is a bad idea, right?” You ask, face close enough to his that your lips nearly touch when you speak. His hands slide up your thighs.

“Probably,” he agrees, brown eyes half lidded as he stares at you.

“Fuck it, it’s fine,” you decide, pressing your lips to his. Your mouths move together hungrily, six months apart fueling a fire that’s ready to burn you alive.

“Fucking hell,” Dieter groans, hips bucking up and dragging his hardening cock against your center. “Want you so goddamn bad.”

“How bad?” You ask, already breathless as he trails his lips down your neck, his beard scratching the thin skin over your rapid pulse.

“Thought of you every time I fucked my hand.” A bite to your throat has you hissing from the combination of pleasure and pain. You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging his head back in retaliation. “Even bought one of those pocket pussy things. Didn’t even come close.”

That gives you pause. With six months gone between the breakup and now, you would have thought he’d been drowning in women and men clamoring at the chance to fuck him.

You kiss him again, your tongues sliding together in a messy, dirty dance you’ve missed more than you care to voice. Your hips move over his while his hands explore every exposed inch of you they can find.

“Take your clothes off,” he demands when his lips break from yours.

“Ask nicely,” you chastise. His brown eyes go wide, a pathetic puppy dog glimmer in them.

“Please,” he begs. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top?”

You stand, laughter spilling from your lips as you reach for zipper at your back, tugging it down slowly while he watches. He licks his lips like he’s being presented a six course meal and his hands curl into the material of the robe that’s fallen open, giving you an unobstructed view of a broad chest and soft tummy. You turn your back to him, easing the sleeves of the dress off your shoulders slowly.

“Come on, baby,” Dieter whines. “Quit teasing.”

“Good things come to boys who wait,” you tell him, shimmying the fabric over your hips, bending at the waist to ease the dress over the curve of your ass and down to the floor. This leaves you in only a thong, the red straps of it a gorgeous contrast to your skin that you know he’ll go crazy for.

“Fuck. Me.”

You turn back around to face him, the man’s eyes dropping immediately to your breasts. He raises his arms, making grabby hand motions toward your chest that have you giggling.

“What if,” you tap your finger to your chin in thought, “I just wanted you to watch me?”

Dieter pouts. “I could be a lot more help with my cock,” he argues.

“Hmm.” You take a seat on one of the cushy arm chairs in the sitting area, spreading your legs wide. “I’ve been doing just fine these last six months without it,” you tell him, sliding a hand beneath the elastic of your panties.

“This is fucking cruel and unusual punishment,” Dieter says. “A violation of the Geneva Convention.”

“Always so dramatic,” you reply as you circle your clit with your fingertips. He leans forward on the couch, hands gripping the cushion tightly as he watches. “You want a closer look, baby?”

He nods his head rapidly and you lift your hips to shove your panties down your legs, gathering them in your hand and tossing them at his face. The wad of fabric drops to his lap and he balls it up in his fist and brings it to his nose.

“Pervert,” you say affectionately. You hook your leg over the arm of the chair, spreading yourself wide for his gaze. You tease your clit with two fingers, trailing them lower to your entrance and dipping one inside, your head dropping back against the chair with your moan.

The sound of skin sliding over skin reaches your ears and when you look up, you find that Dieter has shoved his boxers down to where they now sit looked around his ankles, his thick cock caught in the tight grip of his fist. You lift your hand away, closing your legs and leaning forward with your eyes narrowed.

“Now, Dieter, I don’t remember saying you could touch yourself,” you say.

“Can’t touch you, can’t touch myself,” he whines, releasing his cock and gripping the couch cushion. “C’mon, baby. Please? I’ve missed yo—“

“Cut!” You yell. Dieter’s mouth snaps shut in surprise. “That wasn’t a very Oscar worthy performance, Di. I think you can do better than that.”

His blank stare morphs into heated understanding and you watch as he slowly slides from the couch and lands on his knees. He slips the robe from his shoulders, leaving him gloriously naked. You take a moment to appreciate the muscles of his chest and arms, his softer belly dusted with hair that draws your eye to his flushed cock and his strong thighs.

Then he starts to crawl.

Those big brown eyes of his look up at you with so much desperation and, dare you say it, adoration that your heart skips a beat as he moves closer. When he reaches your feet, he sits back on his heels and settles his hands on his thighs.

“Please, baby,” he murmurs. “Let me touch you. Let me show you how much I’ve missed you. You know me, my tongue is much better at giving you an orgasm than it is with words.”

“Fine,” you say, tone implying he’s inconveniencing you with his desire. He grins, his hands immediately grabbing at your thighs and tugging your ass to the edge of the seat. He positions your legs over each arm of the chair before diving in with his talented tongue, licking through your slick folds with practiced finesse.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, sucking your clit between his lips. “Your pussy is even better than that six course meal we had at that pretentious restaurant in Paris.”

“L’Arpege?” You gasp, fingers tangling in his hair. “You never told me you didn’t like it. I only picked it because of your two month experiment with veganism!”

“Wasn’t there for the fucking food,” he says. Two fingers press to your soaked entrance, sliding into your tight heat with little resistance.

Your head is spinning, stars bursting in your vision as his thick digits curl against your G-spot. His other hand presses on the top of your pelvis and the look in his eyes tells you exactly what his goal is.

“Dieter,” you say, his name a warning as you squirm beneath him. He grins up at you from between your legs.

“How’s my performance now?” He asks. “Oscar worthy yet?”

“Nominated at best,” you bite back through gritted teeth despite the pressure building in your core. He wraps his lips around your clit and sucks hard, tongue flicking rapidly against the bundle of nerves until that pressure bursts as you cry out, “Oh, fuck!”

The orgasm he pulls from you is overwhelming and leaves you gasping, vision blurry as you look down at Dieter’s smug expression and dripping chin. He runs a hand over his chin, collecting your release on his palm and using it to ease the friction of his hand as it pumps his cock roughly.

“‘Nominated at best’,” he says, voice pitched higher to mimic yours. “Please, that was the performance of a lifetime.”

“Don’t get cocky, Di,” you mumble, planting a foot on his chest and pushing him back. He topples over, landing on his back with an oof.

You drop from the chair and crawl over his body, making sure to drag your soaked pussy across his cock. Your hands are planted on the floor on either side of his head and you stare down at his blissed out face as you rock over him.

Dieter’s hands grip your hips tightly. “Don’t good performances get awarded?” He asks, voice tight.

You reach down between your bodies to hold his cock steady, allowing you to sink down slowly, his thick length damn near splitting you open. You’ve missed this, the way he fills every inch of your hungry cunt, the way he looks at you like you’re the best damn thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

Which is saying something because the man knows art and is constantly surrounded by beautiful people but you’ve only seen this look when you’re alone with him, at the end of a long day on set or when you finally stumbled home together from a night out. It’s the way his eyes go soft and his touch grows reverent, fingertips gliding over whatever skin he can reach with a featherlight touch, and the combination wipes the dust off memories with him you’d been trying to forget and move on from.

“Dieter,” you say, voice shaky. You rock your hips, lifting slightly to your knees and relishing the drag of his cock inside of you before you slam your hips back down. “God, fuck, feel so good.”

“Your pussy was made for my fucking cock,” he says through gritted teeth, his hands gripping your hips tightly and encouraging each rock of your body. “Missed this, missed you, fuck. Love you so much.”

You stop abruptly, the man beneath you whining. You grip him by the chin as you ask, “You what?”

“I…uh…shit,” he mumbles. “I didn’t mean to say it.”

“Oh.” You let go of his face, sitting up straight. “I see.”

“No, no,” he rushes to say. “That’s not what I meant.”

It occurs to you that you’re still impaled on his cock and this doesn’t exactly feel like a conversation to be had in that position. You make a move to get up but strong hands hold you steady in his lap.

“I just meant,” he say, fingers flexing nervously against your thighs. “I didn’t mean to say it right now. Like…I wanted you to maybe not hate me for a bit before I professed my love or whatever.”

“I don’t get it,” you admit. “I thought you just texted me to hookup because you were in town.”

“I’m in town for you.”

“For me?”

Dieter nods. “I’m not good with words that aren’t written for me. Too much going on up here,” he says, tapping his forehead. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we broke it off and I feel like that’s a cosmic sign that we’re meant to be or whatever.”

“Oh my god, you really are bad with words,” you say with a laugh. “Meant to be, huh?”

“Or whatever,” he finishes. “Marriage is a scam.”

“Right, right,” you murmur, rocking your hips the slightest bit. “Total scam.”

“It’s just a way for the governme—oh, fuck,” he says, words trailing off into a moan as you pick up your pace again, your hands on his chest to steady yourself. “Just like that, baby.”

“You’re lucky I missed you, too,” you tell him, gasping when his hips flex to meet yours. Your communication with each other devolves into moans and the movement of your bodies until the desperation you feel for one another reaches its peak.

Dieter wraps both arms around your lower back as you cum, holding you to him as your cunt squeezes around his cock. It’s only a moment before you feel him pulsing, warmth pooling inside of you as your orgasm starts to fade. You collapse against his chest, breathing heavily and listening to the rapid beat of his heart beneath your ear.

He rubs his hands up and down your back as you both catch your breath, sweat cooling between you in the chill of the hotel room.

“You wanna order pizza?” He asks. You turn your face into his chest, muffling your laughter into his skin.

“Absolutely.”

[lemonlover1110]

Baby Steps

Satoru Gojo

[Chapter 22] June 26

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Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

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Satoru is in disbelief as he holds his son for the first time– Tears stream down his face as he looks at the cute little face. He’s just the cutest human ever, and he hasn’t been here for a full day. God, he’s crying even more because his baby won’t be this small again. He doesn’t want to let go of his baby. He’ll forever remember this day, June 26.

“Can I hold him, Satoru?” You can’t believe that you have to ask to hold your own son. Satoru only let you hold him to feed him, and it’s irritating; sure, there will be times that you will be begging for someone else to hold him, but today is not one of those moments. He just got here. He isn’t paying any attention to you, and you have to slightly raise your voice, “Satoru!”

“Huh?” He asks, finally looking up from his baby. You have to ask him again, 

“Can I please hold my baby?” Satoru hesitantly nods before standing up and handing you the baby. You can’t believe that you have to ask him to hold the baby that just came out of you. He gives you the baby, and you stare at him in awe. You’ve been anticipating this moment for what feels like an eternity, and he’s finally in your arms. Any pain is worth it– At least in this moment, you know that bleeding for a month straight will change your mind. 

“We need a name for him.” He says, and you hum in response. You’ve had time to think of baby names, but your mind has been too busy with your possible death. Holding your baby in your arms makes you realize that you’ve missed out on so many fun activities that would make pregnancy better. But it’s fine, as long as you have your little baby. “Do you have any?”

“I don’t.” You answer. Satoru bites down on his lip, thinking of the perfect name. A name that’ll follow him for the rest of his life. Satoru tries to think of the perfect name, but that’s just so hard to pick now. The baby doesn’t have any sort of personality yet; he’s only been alive for a couple of hours. “Do you have any in mind?”

“I don’t either.” He confesses. And he tries to think of names, but none come up in his mind. A smile comes on his lips, and he jokes, “How about Satoru Jr.?”

“God, that name is awful–” And just as you say that, the door to your room opens and you watch as your parents walk through the door. They’re quick to go to your side to finally be next to you after everything that has happened. Oh– And to finally meet their precious grandson.

“Your baby boy.” Your mom comments, her voice breaking as she sees the baby. Although she doesn’t want to say how she’s more excited to see you again, rather than meeting her grandson. Both are big events, but for the past six weeks, she’s been more worried about your wellbeing. Same is for your father. She pushes the hairs away from your face and asks, “Are you okay, baby? Is everything alright? I’ve been worried sick.”

You talk to them, avoiding sharing many details because you don’t want to think too much about everything that has happened. They fawn over their grandson, and Satoru smiles as he watches you four. Your parents argue on who gets to hold the baby first, and in the end, your mother wins. She sanitizes her hands before she picks up her grandson, putting on a baby voice as she talks to him.

“Have you two thought of a name?” Your father asks, and you shake your head. You have to name him because you can’t call him your baby boy for months on end until you finally pick the name. The baby begins to cry, and you hear your mother coo at him before she hands him back to you. You waste no time in feeding him. Meanwhile, your father asks, “How much does he weigh?”

“Seven pounds six ounces.” Satoru answers without missing a beat. The door opens again, and you look up from your baby to look at Kaya who walks in through the door. The biggest grin comes to your face and she smiles back as she walks in with a teddy bear, flowers, and a balloon. Satoru takes it from her, thanking her and although she wants to make a snarky remark, one that highlights her weird relationship with Satoru, she bites her tongue.

“Congratulations.” Kaya awkwardly smiles at Satoru before she walks to your side. She kisses your cheek before saying, “I’m so glad you’re okay. And look what you surprised us with.”

“You know I have to make a dramatic entry.” You joke, causing her to laugh. You haven’t been this happy in a long time. This truly is the greatest day of your life.

“So what name have you guys picked?” Kaya asks, only to receive the same answer that your parents got. It makes her say, “Please don’t make him a junior.”

“He’s not becoming a junior.” You assure her, and it makes Satoru roll his eyes. Well, he was definitely joking but he doesn’t like hearing it from Kaya.

“I think this is the first time I see you without your shades. You have some freaky eyes.” Kaya tells Satoru, and he rolls his eyes once again. She then looks at your baby, “Please check that your son doesn’t have the same eyes.”

“Kaya, aren’t you being a bit rude?” Your mother interrupts, and Satoru holds back a smirk. As if his sister got in trouble for making fun of him.

“Oh c’mon, look at them.” Kaya responds, and your mother rolls her eyes. When your baby unlatches, Satoru takes him from your hands and takes a seat, grabbing the burp cloth and throwing it over his shoulder before he begins to burp him. He just wants to do everything for his little one. 

“Is your family coming, Satoru?” Your father asks, changing the topic, and you’d almost feel embarrassed because Satoru’s parents don’t have an idea, but you’re so focused on the fact that you just had a baby.

“They’ll meet him when we’re back home. They can be a little too much.” Satoru answers. 

“Seiji is a cute name.” Kaya brings up, and a smile comes to your lips.

“That’s the perfect name!” You exclaim. Since Satoru has no other name in mind, and the name sounds good enough, he agrees.

“That’s better than Snoopy.” Satoru comments, making some brows raise except yours. Before anyone can ask, Satoru shares, “Ten minutes after he was born, she suggested the name.”

“Let’s not talk about that.” You’re quick to say. “God, I can’t wait to leave and go home. I hate it here.”

“I have so much planned for us when you’re back home.” Kaya says. “We have to do the baby shower–”

“Baby shower? You know that’s supposed to happen before the baby is born.” You point out.

“I don’t see the harm in having one. Even if it’s a month or two too late.” Satoru says. It’d be a fun event too, and like that everyone can meet the baby instead of having people coming in and out of the house daily. “Just wait a couple of months.”

“You can always do a baby shower for the next baby.” Your father suggests, and you look absolutely mortified.

“I’m not having any more kids. Seiji will be my first and last one. I’m not putting myself through that pain again– Let’s not even mention I didn’t have any complications.” You respond. They stay quiet, just listening to Satoru pat his son’s back and the occasional burp until there’s not more. Satoru stops, and just focuses on holding his baby again. He’s so engrossed by the cute little nose, his cute little eyes– And he yawns, Seiji fucking yawns and Satoru’s eyes well up with tears again. He’s waited so long for this.

“Well are we going to hold the baby or will you just keep hoarding him?” Kaya speaks up, making you laugh,

“He’s been doing it the entire time. He just lets me hold him to feed him.” You share, making your parents laugh, however, Kaya has a different reaction.

“Well, he’s my son so I have the right to hold him.” Satoru argues. Satoru just didn’t know he could love a tiny human so much. Satoru could’ve died earlier when the baby had his hand wrapped around Satoru’s finger. 

“You didn’t do any of the work, she carried him for nine months!” Kaya defends you.

“Yeah, because she carried him for nine months I should get to hold him for now.” Satoru says as he looks for Seiji’s blue pacifier. When he finds it, he puts it in the baby’s mouth. “Are you guys staying for long? It’s getting late.”

“We’re going back to the hotel soon.” Your mother says. She walks over to you and kisses your forehead, “We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

Your parents say their goodbyes, dragging Kaya out with them. They promise they’ll be back by the morning. When they’re gone, Satoru walks back to you and hands you the baby, kissing the tip of your nose, “He’s just the cutest.”

“He is.” You respond, smiling down at your son. “Seiji. That’s the perfect name.”

“It is.” Satoru has to agree. He then pecks your lips, “Thank you.”

He feels this heavy weight in his chest, a foolish smile on his lips as he looks at you– He can’t blame the smile on his son because just looking at the baby makes him burst into tears. It’s unusual for him to cry, but then again, this is a life changing moment and he just can’t contain the tears. But this feeling is different, and he’s sure what it is, he just doesn’t know if it’s the right moment to tell you… He doesn’t want you to think that it’s just because you gave birth to his son. He wants you to know that even if Seiji wasn’t here, he’d still–

“He has a head full of white hair, he’s already your twin.” You tell him, and he chuckles before correcting you,

“He’s bald.”

“Hmm… I do hope that I saw wrong because I’m going to be mad if my only kid looks just like you.” You tell him.

“I want him to be my twin. He’ll be my only kid too.” Satoru responds, making you roll your eyes.

“You can procreate with someone else, it won’t hurt you one bit.” You remind him, and he shakes his head. You furrow your brows before you ask him, “What do you mean by that?”

He takes the baby from your hands and puts him down in the bassinet. God, he almost feels guilty for putting his baby down instead of holding him the entire time. He just had to talk to you for a moment. He deeply inhales, and he feels extremely nervous because he just doesn’t know how to start it off. He just had a baby and he’s feeling nervous about this. He grabs your hand before opening his mouth,

“I have to tell you something, and I don’t want you to think that it’s because we just had a baby. Even if Seiji wasn’t a factor, this would still happen.” He begins and you’re out of it. You have no idea what he’s talking about, until the words finally leave his mouth, “I love you.”

“Huh?” You can’t believe your ears. You were expecting your baby to be the biggest surprise of the month, and somehow his dad outshined him. He grabs your hand, and puts it to his chest. You feel how it feels as if it’s about to beat out of his chest, the same way that your heart beats. You end up smiling at him as he repeats,

“I love you.”

[josibunn]

thinkin about how jack would do you like this and wonder why you’re so crazy over him lol. nsfw below the cut (link goes to twitter if you catch my vibe)

jack didn’t know why you were so possessive over him. I mean, he loved it, he thought it was cute. but it always threw him in a loop when you’d hold his hand tightly in public, when you moved his hand to cup your thigh, or when you purposely perched your ass against his crotch in public somewhere, like in line or at a produce market.

he thought of himself to be a pretty average and average looking guy. if anything, he should be the possessive one, you turn heads like no one else. but it wasn’t so much about looks to you.

you always told him “I just want you all to myself” “gotta let everyone know you’re mine,” because, well it was true. but god..if you found out anyone else was getting the treatment he gave you in bed..you’d go crazy. he made you crazy.

it was sickening, he had you absolutely whipped. delusional, even. the sheer thought of his hands on someone else had you heated, you just couldn’t let it happen.

he had you at the end of your shared bed, him standing off it. you held your legs in the air as he pounds into you mercilessly, toying with your clit at a brutal pace, the pressure of his thumb making you see stars, galaxies.

you’re spasming and twitching with each deep stroke and run of your clit, you’ve been at it for hours. he’d flipped you in all sorts of positions, missionary, doggy, then backshots, and back to missionary again. you were lying in a pile of yours and his own fluids, the wallpaper could crumble at how rank the room was with your scent of sex, it was stuffy, and intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough.

you gasped and hiccuped, cheeks hot and stained with tears, each drag of his thick, long cock knocking the wind out of your body. you didn’t know what sparked in him, he just..came home in a giving mood, and god, has he been giving it to you.

“is it good baby? huh?” hes taunting you at this point, he knows it’s good. hes having to raise his voice because you’re just babbling on. “listen to me mama, listen,” he pulls your head up by the bun balancing loosely atop of your hair, making you look up at him with your wet eyes as your chest heaves. “is it fucking good? this dick doing you good baby?” he’s slamming into you and using your own hair to keep you in place, and it has your eyes rolling back as you moan weakly, body starting to shake again as you get louder and louder.

“look at this pussy, you heard me,” he takes his hand off your clit and holds your cheek, slapping you once before forcing you to look at his cock disappear in you, your pussy clenching around him and sucking him in more and more with each long stroke of his cock. “tell me it’s good, tell me this cock is fucking good,” he goes back to pounding inside you, and your moaning out lifer and more frequently, eyes squeezed shut as you feel another orgasm coming.

“oh baby it’s good, it’s fucking good! fuck, nng-jack!” you moan high, he’s pounding into your sweet spot, and you’re turning into goo under him, your ankles now over his shoulders as you slide off your elbow, his hand still wrapped around your hair as you arch your back off the bed.

“fuckin know it is baby, look at you, you’re fuckin shaking,” he shakes his head, and he’s right, you’re cursing as you squirt on his cock once more, it has him groaning loudly, cursing as his head tips back, god, your neighbors hate you guys. “gonna make you a fuckin momma, nobody’s gonna have this pussy, got it? this gonna be my pussy forever, yeah?” he lets go of your hair and grabs your neck, making you squeak.

“yes baby, cum in me please cum in me, need it baby please,” you whimper, even though he’s came in you so much tonight there no way you weren’t getting pregnant. “yeah beg for it, gonna milk this pussy,” he’s so nasty, drooling on your stomach as he cuts in your for the last time tonight, letting go of your beck and grabbing your face for a kiss, he’s tired, the kiss is tired, you’re tired.

“love you so much baby,” your voice is small and shaky as he pulls out and pulls you atop of his chest, rubbing your back as he gets under the covers, ignoring the fat stain. “I love you more mama. love you so fucking much, you’re perfect.” he kissed your forehead a bunch as he wraps his arms tighter around your shaky body, and you don’t ask him what got him so worked up, but if you did, he’d literally tell you he “wanted a good last run before he properly gets you knocked up” lol. oh yeah he has a breeding kink, that’s not up for debate. mwah

tl: @vanlisbon @sugarinte @monkeyfart @444rockstargf @bambi-horror @auggiethecreator @wonkinoo @auryyz @brithedemonspawn

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾

description: In reader's last game of her career, her wife and team make sure she understands how loved she really is

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vicky losada x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying vicky is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translations as per usual!

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y/n just posted

liked by losada_vicky, lucybronze and 298, 374 others

y/n spooky season... 👻

view all 11, 238 comments

username1: she is so pretty kill me now! 🙀🙀

username2: HOW CAN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT 😳😳

username3: love love love it!

losada_vicky: Jesus, I am a lucky woman... 🤯

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y/n: proud to wear Losada on my back baby ! 🩷

username4: UGHHHHHH

username5: PLEASE MA'AM 🔥🔥

username6: Break me like a glowstick I beg

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y/n: ya'll need to touch grass oml 🤨

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username6: OMG OMG ❤️❤️

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losada_vicky just posted on her story

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y/n just posted on her story

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Twitter/X

username1: I don't know if I can take it today - I cannot believe it 😭😭

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username2: I am going to miss her so much.

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username3: She is only 33, why do you think she is retiring? 😶

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username4: She was really badly injured during her second world cup, her ACL tore, cracked two ribs and gave herself a dent in her skull, so...

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username3: well, then that makes sense...

username5: I am so used to seeing her, I am going to miss her so much! 😭❤️

username6: I AM GOING TO CRY THEIR FUCKING STORIES GOD NO ❤️

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When the whistle blew, y/n couldn't believe it, the air was pulled from her lungs and as her teamed cheered in relief from the win, a tear dropped down her cheek at the idea of leaving for real this time.

Her wife wrapped an arm around her and the team swarmed her soon enough, a lot of people crying as they enjoyed a last group hug with their captain of four years.

As they pulled away, y/n looked out at the crowd who were screaming, cheering, waving Brighton Flags for her, and she laughed tearfully and waved out at them in thanks.

"Right." Vicky's voice echoes a microphone held in her hand.

"My wife has given a lot of her life to Brighton, and she honestly loves everything about this club, the players, the staff and especially the fans. I love this club because of her." Vicky says.

The crowd aww's at that, and y/n smiles sadly as she watches her wife who was looking around, proudly talking about the one she called her own.

"She may be retiring, but y/n Losada will be remembered for years as the best Brighton, fan, player and Captain because she has changed so many lives in the course of her own." Vicky finishes.

The crowd erupts at that, cheers showing such agreement to Vicky's speech that the captain covered hr face and took a deep breath, trying to stop from bursting into tears.

A microphone was somehow passed to her, and y/n shook her head, but the chants of 'speech speech speech' were telling her she was over-ruled.

"Um, wow, where to start?" She asks. "First of all, I came through the Brighton academy and played on a senior pitch at the age of 16. I am now 33, and after a brief few years at Barcelona, am honoured to have done my final game here." y/n begins, the crowd cheering for her.

"I am so grateful to every fantastic person on this team, in this club and in this crowd. Because you have made my job the easiest thing in the world." y/n smiles, her wife chuckling and wiping a tear.

"My wife is crying, though I wish she wouldn't because we both know, if I play any longer, I will be sewn back together with how many injuries I have got." y/n laughs, her hand coming up to cup her wife's face lovingly.

"I won't say much more, but thank you for your support, thank you for your love, you will all always have mine. Thank you Brighton and Thank you football. See you around!" y/n finishes and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two loud bangs happen and y/n jumps before laughing in shock at the fireworks that had been set off from the stadium, the officials giving her a proper goodbye as people cheered.

"y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n!!" The crowd cheered, repeating her name over and over while the Brighton team piled on her one last time. y/n knew she'd enjoy being a wag, but she would miss football.

Vicky wrapped an arm around her, pressing her lips to her lover's temple as the woman sighed and relaxed in her hold, finding comfort in her wife's warmth.

"I know my love, I know." Vicky promises.

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y/n just posted

liked by, losada_vicky, brightonfc and 429, 736 others

y/n

Words cannot express the pain I have saying goodbye, football has given me a family, several teams, a wife and so much love.

I may be hurting, but I heard you all and I am so thankful for you, and the happiness you gave me tonight and always shall never be matched!

Thank you all so much, I have had such a fantastic time in this career. I will see you all soon, when I am fulfilling my WAG duties!

All my love

y/n Losada xx

comments disabled.

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losada_vicky just posted

liked by y/n, alexiaputellas and 392, 921 others

tagged y/n

losada_vicky There may have been several reasons my wife took a step back from football. We cannot wait to meet this reason. ❤️

view 11, 376 comments

username1: OMG OMG AHHHHHHH 😱😱

alexiaputellas: congratulations you two! Cannot wait! I will be favourite Tia!

^

marialeonn16: No I Will Be!

^

onabatlle: honestly I think I will be ☺️

^

y/n: @losada_vicky baby, I am just realising how many aunts this child is going to have. 😂

^

lucybronze: They're all idiots I will be the favourite aunt! 😌😌

username2: English and Spanish national teams as aunts, jesus some people just live the life I dream!

^

username3: This baby is going to be so loved holy shit

^

username4: And the entire Brighton team as well!

leahwilliamsonn: HOLY SHIT AHHHHH ❤️❤️

_bethmead: SO EXCITEDDDDD ! ❤️❤️

keirawalsh: so proud and excited !!! 💙☺️

username5: :( I miss her playing already 😭

y/n: Can't express how much I love you, I am so excited! Serás una mamá fantástica.

you will be a fantastic mama

^

losada_vicky: I love you and our baby so much

^

username6: I am not crying you are.

ellatoone: I AM CRYING OMG 🩷

^

alessiarusso99: HONESTLY SAME 🩷

^

mbrighty04: SAME

^

racheldaly3: SAME

^

khiara.k98: SAME

^

lj10: same

^

y/n: I love you all so much xoxo

^

lucybronze: @lj10 you ruined the 'SAME' chain there mate with your lazy lowercase

^

lj10: 🖕🏾🖕🏾

^

lucybronze: 😚😚

see more comments...

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y/n just posted on her close friends story

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losada_vicky just posted on her close friends story

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y/n just posted on her story

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losada_vicky just posted on her story

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END

flufffffffff

kinda love this, kinda don't

meh

-

Queenie xx

[princessroraa]

lover | calum hood.

calum hood x reader.

summary: calum takes his girl to the eras tour.

calum was always private when it came to his relationships. although he loved and appreciated each and every single one of his adoring fans, he never liked to be bombarded with taking pictures while out with his love. he never wanted to put her in a position to receive heavy amounts of hate just for being with him. when going out, he liked being low-key just for her protection. but tonight, he had high driven anxiety. tonight, he would be taking his beloved girlfriend to the eras tour.

calum knew how much his girlfriend loved taylor swift and her music. he knew it was a dream of hers to see taylor live. so, being the great boyfriend he is, he surprised her with tickets for her birthday and now the day had finally come. calum knew without a doubt that he and his love would be spotted by fans and that made him nervous. he didn’t want anyone to be mean to his girl or give her dirty looks as some had in the past. he just wanted her to enjoy this long awaited night and all he could do was hope for the best.

when the two arrived at the venue, they were lead to an open tent by security. the tent was mainly for celebrities and taylor’s family. calum was more than happy for his girl when she got to take a photo with taylor’s mother who also handed her, her first friendship bracelet of the night. a few minutes later, calum was enjoying drinks with his love and listening to the opening act, gracie abrams, another one of her favorite artists. he noticed how a few fans noticed them and tried coming over to the booth. “calum! I made these for you guys!” a girl yelled.

calum walked over to the fan, keeping a smile on his face. the girl handed him two bracelets. one with his initials and one with his girlfriend’s initials. “these are very nice, thank you so much!” calum smiled. he took a look back, checking on his girl who was simply singing along to the song that gracie was performing. “can i take a photo with the two of you, please?” the girl asked. that simple question made calum smile, it was the first time a fan wanted to take a photo with y/n as well. “of course” he smiled at the fan as he motioned for y/n to come over to him.

he didn’t miss the nervous expression on her face. “oh my god! you’re so gorgeous!!” the fan squealed towards y/n. a smile instantly crept upon her face as she thanked the fan. calum took the photo of them three and handed one of the bracelets to y/n. “that made my entire night, she was so kind” y/n spoke. calum smiled and kissed his love’s forehead. by the time taylor was on stage, y/n had both arms filled with friendship bracelets that fans had given to her. fans were so kind to her, begging for photos with both her and calum.

calum was more than relieved at the positive attention his girl was getting after being given nothing but hate for so long. it was definitely the best night he’s had in a long time. he sang along to songs with his girl, held her as she cried to different songs, danced with her, and carried her back to the car when she was so exhausted. as the two were back home in bed, calum scrolled through his twitter timeline and saw that fans had filmed them holding each other and slow dancing as taylor performed lover.

he smiled at the videos, watching his love look at him with so much admiration and love. slow dancing with him so carefree in a room full of so many people. he looked over at her exhausted figure, holding his hand as she was falling asleep. “i love you, cal” she mumbled before fully falling asleep. oh yeah, he was definitely marrying her.

[dorothyrryontour]

if richie jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend

the people have been banging on my front door, crying, screaming, begging for more carmy content. and i hear you, i do. but anyways, here's this instead x

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would think you’re so smart. “Babe, you’re so smart,” he would say, all the time.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would be the worst gift-giver, and always get you really dumb, sometimes mean things, because he takes jokes too far. Even when he’d really try to be sincere, the gift would be impractical, or unnecessary, or just plain stupid, but he’d look at you with such love that you wouldn’t care anymore.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would be fully updated on all your petty gossip, all the time. “Ugh, this person on Twitter is GARBAGE and their Twitter is LITTER ON THE FACE OF THE INTERNET,” you’d tell him. The next time you mention them, he would be like, “Oh I remember, litter on the face of the internet, right? They always reply to your shit tryna argue and stuff? God, what’d they say this time?”

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would constantly text you funny online videos with “LOLLLLLLLL” commentary.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, you would quickly accept that there’s a way everyone else spells something, and then there’s the way Richie spells it.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, when you and your mother fought, he’d lean against the wall and listen, arms crossed and face neutral but sympathetic, until finally he’d mouth, “Let me talk to her,” and reach out for the phone. You’d listen as he spoke with her – charming her pants off, as usual – until the two of them were laughing and swapping stories about you. Then he’d say, “Oh, no, she can’t come to the phone right now, she had some crazy hot wings earlier so she’s gonna be in the bathroom for a while.” You’d flip him off from the sidelines. “Of course I’ll tell her. Okay, you too, Joyce. Take care, now. Alright, buh-bye,” and then he’d hang up and grin at you.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would have no trouble outpacing your dirty mouth, spewing forth creative profanity with such impressive ease that you could do nothing but try to remember it for the next traffic jam.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, you would begin to feel about men in suits the same way you used to feel about men in grey sweatpants.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he’d leave sticky notes with bad jokes on your refrigerator. Stuff like, 69ing is now called 96ing because inflation has made the cost of eating out skyrocket. “You threw my note away?” He’d ask each afternoon, feigning offense. “Yes,” you’d deadpan.

(But we both know that, if Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, you’d have a little shoebox under your bed where you collected them all. He’d find the box one day, giving you a saucy look that would soon turn extremely sentimental once he lifted the lid to see stacks of sticky notes and not a vibrator. (“Where do you keep your vibrator, though, just so I know?”))

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would order your latte using the dumb Starbucks lingo, even though you know he would much rather just go to the tiny independent coffee shop ten minutes out of the way instead of embarrassing you by arguing with the barista over the word “medium.”

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would entertain your friends for hours, expertly mixing cocktails like a wise bartender during Prohibition and listening intently to their tales of workplace microaggressions and bad scones. He’d remember all their stupid coworkers, so, whenever they’d gripe again a week later, he’d go, “Ugh, fuckin’ Marie again with the late reports!” and your friends would kind of like him more than they like you.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would have no problem apologizing to you if he was wrong about something, but you’d know better than to be an asshole about the situation and rub the apology in his face, so you’d give him a little time to settle and wait for him to say, “Quit fuckin’ around and come sit next to me,” while he’s stretched out on the couch.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, you would still play Guitar Hero on a regular basis and he wouldn’t make fun of you for your settings still being on “easy”.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, when something good happened to you, you’d tell him and laugh and say, “God, I don’t deserve this!” and he’d look at you and say, “Fuck are you talking about, of course you do.”

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, he would know what umami means, but he wouldn’t tell you. You’d only know you’re using it wrong when you catch the amused simper he’s trying to hide.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, when you visited the restaurant, Nat would have to tell him off about five times that night for lingering at your table too long. He’d pop back into the kitchen every now and again to “make sure table 6 is getting the real deal” and be forcefully ushered out by a chorus of curses each time (thereafter sauntering straight to table 6 to flirt with you a bit more and assure you that, “Oh, they’re cooking you up the real deal back there, I’m making sure of it.”)

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, you would accidentally catch sight of a sticky note on the fridge while he was still in the room. I saw a buttplug on the street today, it’d read, some asshole must’ve dropped it. And you would unfortunately grant him the satisfaction of laughing out loud. He would never let you live down the fact that you do, in fact, find him funny.

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, pre-s2e7-of-the-hit-TV-show-The-Bear-Forks (when he was just: Richie Jerimovich, your scumbag boyfriend), you’d have let him rant about gentrification as much as he wanted, and you’d have refrained from pointing out that he’s saying the same thing over and over. “I know, babe,” you’d have said, “That’s such a good point.”

If Richie Jerimovich were your reformed scumbag boyfriend, post-s2e7-of-the-hit-TV-show-The-Bear-Forks, he’d take to saying, to his still-scumbag friends: “When fishermen cannot go to sea, they mend their nets.” Then he’d explain, sagely, how, “There will be times in our lives where we may not be able to do things we have always done, in the way we have always done them,” and you’d kiss him all over his face, because you love having a reformed scumbag boyfriend who randomly recites proverbs now.

[papayatori]

Don’t Blink! (P3)

LN4 x fém!reader

No warnings

I’m not sure how long I’m going to carry on this series, I guess it depends on how well it does. I’ve got nothing but positives so far, so I hope it stays that way. I also take requests! Feel free to leave me some! (This one is kind of shorter, I’m sorry. Longer one next time!)

My alarm interrupted my peaceful sleeping. I was beyond pissed and could have thrown it across the room had it not simply been doing its God-forsaken job. I decided that, at the ungodly hour of 7am on a Saturday, that I would get up and make breakfast like normal human beings usually do.

How incredibly jealous I was of said human beings.

In about thirty minutes, I had started things in the kitchen. I had my morning cup of Chai and was ready to take on the world; and by the world, I meant the frying pan.

Pancakes were a delicacy that could not be coveted, an art that took decades to master. Pancakes with bacon were even better. Not to mention, keeping my apartment from burning down as an added plus. With that said, I gave all of my attention to the stovetop.

After a long battle with the floury pancake mix and attempting to turn it into a batter(there was now a huge mess to clean up later, yet another reason I have yet to master the art of pancake making), I had finally managed to have a breakfast fit for a king.

Or better yet, a breakfast fit for me.

I had decided to leave the mess to clean up later, I was hungry and it could wait. Though, I was proud of myself and couldn’t help but snap a picture of my breakfast and post it on Twitter.

I ate in a comfortable and relaxing silence. I had earned this after yesterday. Though, I hadn’t really stumbled upon last nights memories until now. Lando and I had texted for a while after I had gone to bed, him insisting that I never answered his ‘question’. At first I was really sure what he meant, but then I had come to the realization that he was asking when our next date was.

Silly me.

I would be lying if the thought of our time yesterday hadn’t sent me into a mess of smiles and butterflies every time I thought of it. Sure, I had always found Lando attractive, but never had I thought anything more than that. Why would I? I hadn’t met him until yesterday.

I’m starting to believe I might be going insane, and I will be blaming Lando for legal purposes.

Ding!

Startled, I looked down at my phone. I usually didn’t get many replies on Twitter, this was new.

And you didn’t invite me? I thought we were friends 💔

At first I was confused as hell, and then I read the name of the person who had replied.

Lando Norris

I shook my head with a small smile spreading across my lips. I wasn’t sure how he managed to find my social media, or why for that matter, but I suppose it wouldn’t have been too hard. I decided to reply anyway.

Maybe next time Mr. Norris

…

…

…

My laptop open, camera plugged in, I knew for a fact that these were going to be the easiest photos I’d ever edited. I plopped myself back down on my couch, satisfied with my breakfast and cleanup afterwards, one hindered percent determined to be productive today.

Woo hoo!

Okay, maybe that was a bit of sarcasm. Though, i wasn’t lying about these photos being easy to edit. The hard part, however, would be keeping my eyes off of Lando’s face for long enough to edit his photos.

Who knew such a thing could be so insanely difficult.

It was honestly frustrating trying to keep my mind away from him. I’ve dated my fair share of men, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much trouble keeping my thoughts in check. This also begs the question, what exactly were we now? I’m not sure if our date had any romantic implications in the first place. He could have just been being friendly. I would be a fool to mention it.

A knock on the door pulled me completely out of my rambling thoughts, and a part of me was thankful. I got up to open it, curious as who the hell could be knock in on my door at 9am.

The door revealed the most beautiful pair of blue-green eyes I had ever seen.

“I brought you things!” Lando said excitedly, not waiting on me to let him in a pushing past me to the table in my kitchen.

“Good morning to you too, Lando.” I chuckled, following closely after him.

“So, first things first. I’m mad at you.” Lando pushed his bottom lip out, giving me a pout I couldn’t help but giggle at.

“And why would that be, Mr. Norris?” He glared at me.

“You know exactly why I’m mad at you.” He clicked his tongue. “Fortunately for you, that isn’t why I am here.” I tilted my head, urging him to continue.

Lando pulled some bits of paper out of the sack I hadn’t realized he was holding. His eyes were too much of a distraction for me to even notice. He smiled then, holding my gaze for a little longer than I had anticipated before finally breaking the silence once more.

“Sign these.” He slid the papers towards me.

“What am I signing exactly?” I asked. As he handed me the pen, our fingertips touched for a moment, sending electricity through my body. My face heated up and I reverted my eyes back down to the paper to keep from falling into his.

“It’s a contract. I worked my magic with Zak, you’re welcome, and he’s written up an official agreement for you to work for McLaren.”

“You’re lying.” I gasped, reading through the paper that said just about the exact same thing Lando had just described to me. “I thought you were joking.”

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up like that, not even after you had pancakes without me.” I rolled my eyes at his smirking figure. I ignored his comment.

“I just can’t believe it’s actually happening. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted something like this.” This time I looked up at Lando with the biggest, genuine smile he’s ever seen me wear, and instead of smirking, he actually gave me a genuine smile back.

“I’m sure you can believe this then.” He reached further down into the back, balling it up afterwards. “Paddock pass for Bahrain. You won’t need to worry about the flight or the hotel situation, you’re going to be staying in the same one as Oscar and myself. I think Zak will probably also be there this time around seeing as it’s the first race of the season.”

Before I could really think about what I was doing, my arms were wrapped around him in a tight embrace. He was quite taller than me, leaving my face buried into his chest. His muscles were tense, slowly easing as he wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Thank you, Lando.” I mumbled, my voice muffled from his chest.

“Anything for you, darling.”

Coming to my senses, I pulled away a bit quicker than I would have liked.

“Fuck, I’m sorry-“

Lando was laughing at me now, probably seeing how red my face was.

“I got a bit excited.” I continued to try and explain myself without sounding like a fan.

Well, I was a fan, but that was beside the point.

“Just don’t get so excited that you forget to sign those papers, Miss y/ln.” I looked down at them to find that he was right, I really had forgotten to sign the papers.

His hand squeezed my shoulder as I was writing, causing me to hesitate slightly before continuing. His touch sent waves of heat through me, heat that I could explain but most definitely couldn’t deny either.

I looked up at him when I finished, praying my face wouldn’t give away the things his touch did to me. He smiled sweetly.

“I can’t wait for next week.” He said, as if he were the one who had just signed contract papers with McLaren as their primary photographer.

“Neither can I.”

…

…

…

“This picture? Really?” Lando gave me a look as we pulled my laptop away from me on the couch. I should’ve learned my lesson last time he took something from me, but apparently I had not.

“I like that one! It brings out your eyes.” I stated proudly. He smirked.

“You like my eyes, do you?” I paused, not expecting for that sort of question after the moments we had spent in the kitchen.

“Maybe, maybe not; but one thing is for certain, and that is that the LN4 Twitter fan girls are infatuated with them, and that’s all I need for my entire career to blow up.”

Who was I trying to fool, myself? Lando sent me a knowing look.

“Staring contest, go!” I was completely caught off guard by this, not prepared in the slightest.

His eyes bore into my own, blinding me without any light whatsoever. They were full of so many emotions that I couldn’t place, though the joy behind his iris’s couldn’t be contained. I almost smiled at the thought that maybe I was the reason behind the joy he was feeling.

Don’t blink

I lost myself in his eyes, in my thoughts, perfectly content to stare into him for the rest of our time together. I hadn’t realized that that we had slowly drifted towards each other, my mouth parted slightly in instinctive anticipation. Was this really happening?

Then he stuck is tongue out at me.

I blinked in confusion at first, laughing at his action before realizing I had lost the staring contest.

“Oh fuck off!” I laughed, throwing on of the couch pillows at him.

“You’re just mad because I’m right!” He laughed along with me, seeing the dawning look of realization grow on my face.

The only reason we had a staring contest was just for him to prove the fact that I liked his eyes. This bastard knew what he was doing. Honestly, I was starting to like that.

Or maybe I was just starting to like him.

…

…

…

The late afternoon had rolled around after spending the entire day joking around with Lando.

So much for being productive.

I led him to the door on his way out. I’m not really sure why I didn’t want him to leave; but, his presence sure beat the hell out of being lonely and editing his photos all day.

“Thanks for today, I had a lot of fun.” I said, giving him a small smile as a thanks. He chuckled.

“So did I, other than the part where I didn’t get pancakes.” I rolled my eyes before an idea popped into my head.

“If you won’t hold this over my head anymore, maybe you could come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?” Proud of myself, I gave him a wink. He blanked, surprised I even offered.

“Sure! As long as I can consider it our second date.”

“A deals a deal.” I offered him my hand. He shook it with a triumphant smile, bringing my hand to his lips before gently kissing the back of it.

“I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then, darling.”

And with that, he was gone and the door had shut behind him. The only thing he left behind was the faint scent of his cologne.

[crystallizedday]

Mkay, so I just woke up & I feel like spitting some facts today while I’m still in my BATDR hyperfix, especially since I’m pretty sure not a lot of people have this idea as well & I wanna get it out there somehow.

So…

The Ink Demon is like… written SO fucking well in this game, or at least as I interpret it.

& I figured this shit out like GRADUALLY.

The first tid bit that hit me like a fucking truck was how CANONICALLY the Ink Demon is in DESPERATE need of any kind of love and affection. While it’s hinted at a little bit in the games, the smoking gun comes from the VOICE ACTOR FOR INKY HIMSELF Sean Crisden.

Yes, I looked through his entire Twitter to find this again just to prove I’m not insane.

Like… even if Sean isn’t caught up entirely on the lore, there’s no reason he would say this only knowing the Ink Demon through his lines. After all, my guy has to be told about the character to voice him, so for him to address this pretty much makes it as close to being confirmed officially as we can.

The second thing that hit me like a truck was the YouTuber Pastra’s review video on the game, where he details how the Ink Demon’s mocking in the last chapter is towards HIMSELF, not Audrey, & he’s just projecting all HIS shit onto her.

Not even I caught this, since I always thought Inky was right about the “your life is a lie” thing due to her not being fully human.

But then Pastra emphasized the “mistake” bit. Audrey wasn’t a mistake, far from it. The Ink Demon, BENDY, was. HE was a mistake, born solely to be a living mascot to entertain, & when he came out WRONG, he was locked away, neglected, abandoned by the man who created him.

So he looks at Audrey, someone who was made by the same man who made him, someone who was treated so much better because of how she came out “perfect”, & tries to bring her down on the same level as he is by berating her.

& while this is stretching a bit, him comforting her at the end feels a bit like he’s trying to comfort himself, tricking himself to believe there is SOMEONE like him, someone who was ABANDONED & lied to, & thus giving Audrey the opportunity to live so he can indulge in that comfort.

It’s a BIG stretch, but god DAMN is it a gut puncher!

Like I’m sure he also did it to manipulate her & shit, but like… he can have MORE than one reason to do shit, & if he really did try to comfort himself like that, if that really is true… then I’m gonna fucking sob, man.

BUT THAT IS NOT FUCKING ALL!!

Cause I got ONE MORE mind blower I had, mainly (but not entirely) on my own after that one!!

& it has to do with Baby Bendy.

A LOT of people think Inky got his mind split in two when he was imprisoned as Baby Bendy due to how different he acts around Audrey.

But I beg to differ.

I think the Ink Demon is ABSOLUTELY still conscious & in control as Baby Bendy. He just couldn’t do shit to anyone before Audrey came about & accidentally freed him (cause I am ALSO subscribed to that theory Pastra addressed in his video), so he just minded his own business.

Perhaps his new emotional responses spoken of in the Keepers’ tapes come from him being more powerless & vulnerable where the only thing he COULD do was cry.

& the reason he acts so friendly towards Audrey once she meets up with him near the city? Because she was kind to him, she actually gave a shit about him. She apologized to him about hurting him & wanted to take care of him.

NEVER in Inky’s life has he EVER had someone genuinely care about him & his well being, something he always wanted from ANYONE but never got. So when he finally has that opportunity with Audrey, he jumps to it, going along with it, even if he desperately didn’t want to visit the Gent labs again.

More evidence of this is detailed in a post by @jupiter-jellies titled “Ink Demon VS Vesty” which I really like (I apologize for the tag, I don’t know if there’s an easier option to showcase the post itself, but I still wanna credit you nonetheless) as it makes sense of the sequences of events that happen from when Baby Bendy first joins your party to when he disappears & the Ink Demon comes to stop you from entering the Keepers’ area. Seriously, that shit blew my mind when I read it cause it explains WHY Baby Bendy went missing & why the Ink Demon would try to stop Audrey from going THERE in particular.

It just makes sense that the Ink Demon was still HIMSELF in both forms, he just acts differently to compensate for his lack of powers & to be given the love & affection he always wanted.

… But then it gets sad.

Cause the more I thought about it, the more fucked up it became. The ONLY time the Ink Demon EVER got someone to reach out to him & make him feel cared for… is when he’s in a “perfect” form. Only when he was cute & innocent & TRAPPED against his WILL could he be EVER loved, that if only he came out RIGHT in the first place, then he would DESERVE all the love that Audrey offers him.

If Joey & the others neglecting & abusing him when he came out wrong when he was JUST created didn’t solidify this idea in his head, Audrey treating him like a friend in his “perfect” form & an enemy in his true form DEFINITELY sealed the deal to him.

& it only gets worse.

I was re-listening to Joey talking to Audrey at the tail-end of the game to try & snap her out of the dark mindset Inky put her in when I realized something.

The Ink Demon was RIGHT THERE, listening to his abuser talk directly to AUDREY the ENTIRE TIME, telling her how she was loved & how she’s not this monster, that she was his pride & joy, his ONLY success…

& that PISSES Inky off.

In INKY’s point of view, only after Joey had a creation that WASN’T an abomination did he suddenly have a change of heart, that all it took was to get something he always wanted to be a better person as he completely ignores his biggest mistake that was RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM.

That… has GOT to sting, really bad, to feel abandoned AGAIN in favor of the “better sibling” that Audrey was.

I have a feeling that he didn’t crush Joey SOLELY so he couldn’t get through to Audrey. I think he also did it because he couldn’t take LISTENING to him talk like this anymore, to be reminded that he was a failure that didn’t deserve the love that Audrey got, & lashed out to shut Joey up.

This is ALL very headcanon-y, but… it really does paint the Ink Demon in a more complex & tragic light.

The Ink Demon was NEVER just a mindless monster that killed whatever it wanted on sight. He was capable of emotion, & he could’ve potentially been capable of being something so much more if only he got the proper care & reassurance he DESPERATELY needed.

& GOD I love his character for it, he’s my favorite character in the game BY FAR because of this, GOD I hope this is canon so I can give massive props to the writers for this game!!

[meanya]

With Indie Animation Day just having passed and a really meh-looking Megamind sequel on the horizon, I'd like to gently remind people of the power of ignorance.

(TL;DR in blue) Your attention is valuable. Like it or not, your attention alone is worth money. When you give a show or project your attention, you are supporting it. So if you're as disgruntled as I am knowing another amazing movie's timeline is about to be tarnished with a lazy sequel, please for the love of god, ignore it.

"Don't feed the troll" "They just want attention, ignore them." these are tales as old as time... But what we're dealing with in entertainment and animation today is much more insidious than attention-seeking randos online. We're dealing with attention-seeking multi-billion dollar companies.

We are living in the age of soulless nostalgia-bait and purposefully-infuriating content. They are putting this content out because it is MAKING THEM MONEY, and it is making them money because we are giving them attention! The most POWERFUL WEAPON you have to wield against them right now is your ignorance.

I know it's infuriating. I know. But the fact is: Just like a troll, every interaction you give this media feeds it, good or bad. Especially bad.

Talking about this movie is spreading the word for them. Posting about them gives them free advertising. Watching people review and dunk on them will push more people to review and talk about it. Even if you go online and say, "I hate this movie, it's gonna suck." that is STILL advertising for them!

Hate-watching is worth the same amount of money as love-watching. Remember what hate-watching did for projects like Velma?

Don't let this new Megamind sequel or any dead-horse-beating project succeed financially just because we were too angry to stop talking about it. DON'T reward them for their half-assed cash-grabs with your ire. They don't deserve your fury.

I beg of you, don't hate-watch it when it comes out. Don't post about them. Don't take to Twitter and Tumblr flooding the #notmymegamind tag. Don't do their dirty work for them. Don't allow them rent-free space on your page or in your mind. Don't give this project the time of day. Ignore it. There is power in your ignorance, just as there is in your attention.

Give your attention to one of these independent animators instead. The media giants don't need it.

If we can all band together and ignore the media we don't like, they will no longer be profitable or a safe investment and they will eventually stop. But we have to agree to ignore it together.

[snaxle]

just saw someone say the reason bi lesbians are problematic is because they're inclusive of radfems, and that bi lesbians spew terf rhetoric. i dont know what kinda secret alternate universe you're living in where terfs are supportive of mspec identities but im begging you to turn on your brain cells for longer than 5 seconds at a time and then go outside instead of wallowing in queer twitter discourse made by 15 year olds 10 hours every day you fucking idiots.

terfs dont fucking like bi lesbians. terfs would rather watch us either kill ourselves than ever support our identities.

"i hate mspec lesbians because they tell people who hate men that they're sharing terf beliefs, which is exactly what terfs want!!" have you literally never seen a terf's account before in your life? they fucking hate men and want everyone in the world to know that every single man in the world no matter how old they are that they're gross ugly creatures who all hate women and want nothing more than to prey on the downfall of all women. yea, even those 6 and 12 year old boys that live next door to you. so yea, while you're posting your quirky little "i hate all men they're disgusting 🙄" posts every three days for your 400 twitter followers, you're 100% spewing terf rhetoric!! no that doesnt mean you're a fucking terf but you're sharing into their beliefs and spreading their agenda every time you do this shit which is what they want!!!!

"the term lesbian is already inclusive of trans and nonbinary people, so using the term bi/mspec lesbian is problematic because you dont think trans people can be lesbians!" look me in the eyes. do you genuinely, honest to god think that terfs care about that. do you genuinely think terfs are okay with trans people calling themselves a lesbian. terfs dont fucking care, they still want you to either detransition and realize how "evil" being trans is and follow in their beliefs, or they want you dead. a nonbinary trans man who uses he/him pronouns calling himself a bi lesbian is literally the least of your fucking worries.

i am trans and bigender. even if i just called myself solely a lesbian without the extra labels, terfs still wont fucking accept me because i am not a pure innocent 100% woman. they will not accept me even when i tell them i feel more like a woman most days than i do a man because i am not their definition of what a woman should be. "it doesnt matter what terfs say, lesbian is still inclusive of trans people!" no, it's only inclusive of trans people that you deem are good and women enough to use the label.

people love going around talking about how they're so so supportive of any and all identities and then immediately turn around and be like "hmmm but not Yours." i could be the most perfect woman in the world, but the second i so much as mention i think a man looks attractive, then i am not being a lesbian the Right way.

so who the fuck cares anymore. who cares if i use the term bisexual lesbian to identify myself? im already doing it all wrong supposedly, so who cares if im more of a problem than i already am? the queer people im supposed to share a community with would rather side on the side of terfs because im not being a lesbian in the supposedly Correct way, and no matter what i say to try defending myself I'll never be seen as a true and proper lesbian because random strangers on the internet i will never meet ever in my life has already dictated that I'm not good enough. that my existence is problematic and harmful to everyone else, completely ignorant of the fact that they're unwillingly sharing in the beliefs of transphobes, homophobes and conservatives who would like nothing more than to wipe us all out instead of standing together as a community.

but you know, putting bi lesbians on your dni or whatever is more important.

[mentallyillcrustacean]

Ok I'm gonna write about this cuz look at him

SUGGESTIVE CONTENT AHEAD MINORS DNI

Foolish x fem!reader, grinding, making out, slightly possessive reader (it's more jokingly), nicknames used: babe, baby

Imagine, this video comes out and you didn't know that your bf Foolish would be exposed like this. You remember him being egged but nothing specific, so seeing the absolute THIRST on Twitter was a very sudden and kinda hilarious.

Seeing the picture at first did give you an immediate reaction of desire. I mean hell that happy trail has pushed you over the edge many times whether it be you on top or bottom and grinding with it giving you the perfect friction against your clit.

Foolish wrapped up some business and didn't bother streaming today so he comes downstairs to see you staring and practically drooling over the picture on your phone, thighs pressed together seeking some form of release.

“Whatcha looking at baby?” Foolish says directly behind you causing you to jump and put your phone down immediately to the side on the couch. You turn around and see a smug smile on his face, you stutter,

“Wh-what? Oh my god, I can't believe Karl left that in the video! Like he knew what he was doing,” you laugh a little.

“Aww you jealous babe?” Foolish says sitting next to you putting a hand on your thigh, “No.. not really cause no matter how much the doozers thirst over you,” You say moving into his lap, “I know you're mine.” You kiss him slowly as his hands wrap around your waist urging you closer. His tongue prods at your lips begging for access which you happily grant him, your hands tangling into his hair as you slowly grind yourself in his lap.

You breathlessly pull back and move your hands down his chest and stomach, moving them underneath to feel his skin and happy trail you desire.

Foolish groans at your soft hands shamelessly feeling him up. “Fuck baby, you drive me crazy,” Foolish says as you move in to kiss his neck and collarbone.

“need you~ I need to feel you, please fuck me,” you whimper seductively in his ear. Foolish picks you up and walks you both to the bedroom, swiftly kicking to door shut behind him.

——————————————————————————

To be continued maybe??