#guess i'm signing off from this blog

[dhoranbolt]

You don't fool me

A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas 🥹 second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.

Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!

bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much 🥹💙💙💙

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining

cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing

Word count: 5k (ish)

This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue – he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.

Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).

They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.

"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.

"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.

To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.

"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It’s out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.

"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.

"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.

Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.

"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.

She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to – until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.

'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'

Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.

His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.

If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.

"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.

The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasn’t, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.

He couldn’t see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.

Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.

'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.

"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).

'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'

Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.

“I said no! Knock it off!” Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.

'Or perhaps you’d like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think she’d last against this curse on her own?'

Yuji’s heart dropped to his stomach. There’s no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?

'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, I’d jump at the chance.'

Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?

Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.

'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and she’s on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.

“No, last time I let you out you were a dick.” Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.

At the sound of Yuji’s words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.

'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isn’t going to last forever.'

“Promise you won’t hurt her first.” Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukuna’s tongue as well as she could manage in protest.

There is no way he’s about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times he’d spoken to her – though, at her might be a better word. Everything he’d said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?

'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. I’ll get rid of the curse. Just say you aren’t strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'

“That’s not-”

'Going once…'

“I don’t-”

'Going TWICE...'

“Fine! I need your help, please.” She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.

'That doesn’t sound like what we agreed to, try again.'

Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.

“Sukuna please, I’m not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.” Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safe–

A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.

Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.

“Well, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isn’t it?” She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Sukuna…” She breathed his name warily.

“Surprised to see me? I did tell you I’d have you some day. So, how was I? It’s been a few hundred years. You’ll have to excuse the fact I’m a little rusty.” Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.

“You weren’t too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?” He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.

“Oh, don’t be shy now, it’s just us. The brat won’t even know, it can be our little secret.”

“I-” She stammered, face hot. So what if she’d gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of curses’ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.

Currently having Sukuna’s painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.

“I can smell you,” he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldn’t bite back her moan.

“Sukuna!” She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.

“I think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji can’t help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.” The fog he’d brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.

“Stop! You’re lying!” But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.

“I actually don’t care if you believe me, do you want to know why?” He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.

“I’m going to fuck you through this wall. You won’t be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And he’ll never know because he’s out cold.” Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.

“Aww, still shy, are we?” He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.

“N-No!” Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.

“And look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.” She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.

“Look at me while I touch you, I won’t tell you twice.” He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, she’d forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.

“Good, you listen well for a sorcerer. I don’t believe in praising those beneath me, but I think I’ll make an exception just this once.” He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.

“You’re so wet already and I’ve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?” Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.

She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that she’d miss-stepped.

He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.

“And here you’d have everyone believing you’re too innocent for such filthy things.” Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.

“God you’re so tight, there’s no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.” Her walls flexed at his words. Sukuna’s one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.

“But don’t worry, you’ll take it from me.” And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didn’t matter.

“Suku-na!” She cried out as he forced another finger into her.

“I’d be thanking me if I were you. I’m feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.” He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.

He didn’t wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.

So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didn’t.

“Was it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?” He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.

“You know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldn’t do this.” He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.

Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.

“Not my clothes!” She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.

“The matching set, I’m starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping I’ll catch a glimpse. Hoping I’ll come out to rip it off of you.” He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.

“God!” She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-

“I’ll be your god.” He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.

She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.

He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.

“Sukuna!” She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.

“You gonna cum, little sorcerer?” He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.

“Please Sukuna...” If he wasn’t so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.

For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.

He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldn’t wait to sink into her.

When he didn’t slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasn’t sure she could have stopped, anyway.

It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.

Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.

“Aww, is someone sensitive?” He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.

“Sukuna…”

“Well, aren’t you going to thank me?” She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.

“I- thank you...” He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.”

“What?” Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.

“Those red panties you’re wearing will be sufficient.”

“What?” The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.

“I didn’t say you could look away.” She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.

She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.

“On second thought, I don’t think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?” But it wasn’t really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.

“Be a good girl and open wide,” he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.

Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.

“See something you like?” Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.

She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.

“You’re not acting very grateful. Don’t make me fuck your throat, I’ll end up hurting your feelings.” He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When she’d gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.

“How resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.” She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as he’d made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.

His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this she’d only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yuji’s cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.

All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you? I’ve gone hundreds of years without, and you just can’t wait for another.” She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.

Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasn’t fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.

Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.

“Don’t go passing out on me now, I’m not finished with you just yet.” And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.

“You did okay. For now. We’ll revisit that later, get up.” She didn’t have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.

But he didn’t give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.

“Maybe next time, I’ll let you look at me while I fuck you.” He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was ready–

“Relax, I’m not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time you’re around.” And he wasn’t wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.

Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.

“God look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?” He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.

He didn’t quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldn’t fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.

She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.

“Sukuna, fuck!” She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasn’t going to break her, but the rough pace he’d set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.

“Too much for you already, princess? I’m just getting started.” Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.

“Too much, fuck, ‘s too much!”

“I’m not that brat, you’ll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Don’t piss me off, I’m in such a giving mood, right now!” He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.

“Sukuna please, I don’t…Please!”

“Short circuiting, and I’m not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before I’m finally satisfied?” Her mind was melting, she didn’t care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. She’d never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.

“Is there something you want from me, little sorcerer?” She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.

“I want- I wanna cum.”

“That so?” She nodded with a whimper.

“Beg, and I’ll think about it.” She couldn’t even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, well…

“Please I wanna cum.” She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.

“Beg more, you can do better than that.”

“Please Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-” She was a wailing mess, she didn’t care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.

He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.

God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.

The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and ‘fuck don’t stop’ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldn’t let his guard down. He was sure she didn’t even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.

He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. He’d put that knowledge to good use later.

“Go ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.” And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they weren’t both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled ‘mine.’ He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.

“If you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.” Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.

He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.

“Clean yourself up.” She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.

“Thank you…” She said quietly as she cleared her throat.

“Such a good girl for me already, I don’t even have to train you. I’ll be back, be ready to leave when I am.”

“Wait where-”

“There’s still a job to do here, isn’t there? I’ve got a curse to kill.” He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.

Yuji wouldn’t be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.

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[qqueenofhades]

I understand how important it is to be able to criticize the President, and am not at all of the belief he should be beyond critique, but the critiquing of Biden makes me so nervous. (That's not to say I agree with every decision he's made - I absolutely do not). But I feel like people see things he's done wrong and decide they won't vote for him because of it. I'm not sure if enough people have the ability to see that he's done things wrong but also is our only hope of staving off literal fascism.

So many people talk about how sick they are of it constantly being a lesser of two evils situation, constantly having to vote for a candidate they hate because the other side is worse (I heard it in 2020, 2022, etc), and I guess I just- I don't really get it? We're here because they didn't do that in 2016. All of this could've been avoided had the result been different then. I just feel like people don't comprehend how different of a place we'd be in if Hillary won and engage in all this cognitive dissonance to make themselves feel better about being part of the reason she didn't.

Like.... this has been a long-running topic of discussion on my blog, not least because it is so inexplicable and maddening. It also shows how terribly shallow most people's understanding of the American political process is, and how toxic the "I can only vote for a candidate if every single personal belief/position of theirs matches mine" belief is, as well as how much damage it has done to American democracy even (and indeed, especially) by people who technically don't identify as right-wing. Yell at Republicans all you like (God knows I do, because they're the worst people on earth) but they vote. Every time. Every election. Every candidate. Whereas the Democratic electorate still holds out for Mister Perfect, and it very definitely is Mister Perfect. The amount of "evil HRC!!!" Republican-poisoned Kool-Aid that so-called progressives drank in 2016, and then afterward when they insisted they could have voted for someone like Elizabeth Warren and then didn't do that in 2020, is... baffing.

Frankly, I don't care if Hillary Clinton's personal positions on XYZ issue were the most Neoliberal Corporate Centrist Shill to Ever Shill (and Online Leftists' intellectual skills being what they are, I seriously doubt that they were using any of those words correctly and/or accurately). American policy is not made by "personal dictate of the ruler," or at least it shouldn't be, because we are not an absolute monarchy. We rely on the operation of a system with input from many people. As such, if Hillary had been elected, we would have 2-3 new liberal justices on SCOTUS and have secured civil and environmental rights for the next generation. Roe would be intact, and all the other terrible rulings that SCOTUS has recently handed down wouldn't have happened. We wouldn't have had January 6th, the attempt to stage a coup, all the tawdry scandals, our national security being at risk because of Trump stealing classified documents and probably selling them to Russia and/or Saudi Arabia, etc etc. If you think that's in any way an equivalent amount of evil to what would have happened if Hillary was elected, or if she was "still evil!!!," then I honestly don't know what to tell you. She could fucking murder puppies in her spare time if she had preserved SCOTUS for us, WHICH SHE WOULD HAVE, BECAUSE SHE WARNED US EXACTLY WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

(Hoo. Sorry. Still steamed. 2016 war flashbacks, again.)

In short, Hillary would have been a solid continuity Democrat and she would have signed whatever legislation a Democratic House and Senate passed, not to mention been hugely inspiring as the first female president. But because it's so important to the Online Leftists' moral sense of themselves that BOTH PARTIES ARE THE SAME!!!, they can't possibly acknowledge that ever being a factor, and/or admit that they have any culpability in not voting for her in 2016. It's like when you read the British press about any of the UK's equally numerous problems, and they BEND OVER BACKWARD to avoid mentioning that Brexit might be a factor. They just can't mention it, because then that means they might have made the wrong choice in pulling for it as hard as they did, and blah blah Sovereignty.

Basically, if HRC had been elected president, everything would be so much less terrible and terrifying all the time, we would be talking about her successor in 2024 as someone else who could be the "first," we could explore handing the reins over to Kamala as a Black/Asian woman, we could promote Buttigieg as the first gay president, etc etc. But because 2016 was so catastrophically fucked up, we are in damage control mode for the immediate future and every election is just as pivotal. And yet, because people think that the only thing that matters is a presidential candidate's personal views, we're stuck having the same old arguments and desperately begging people over and over to please vote against fascism, since that somehow isn't self-evident enough on its own. Yikes on Bikes.

[lovelyamarilala]

Can I call you mine?

"Can I call you mine?"

"HAHA! Get the fuck away from my sister."

"hm..what about..No!"

"Alastor calm down dear.."

Lucifer Morningstar x Older sister of alastor! Reader x Adam..(ish?????, NdYes it's female again..ahem but in future blogs it won't be " female!" Bare with me..) swearings, Alastor being a protective younger brother���🤷, flirty Lucifer, he's off character I guess? (Thank you so much, for enjoying my recent blog! I appreciate it!!) English is my first language, and I may have grammar issues

Part 1.

How are you a demon..? Well let's just say, you killed dozens of people in sadness and rage, after your younger brother died. you also killed the person who killed him.

"You are sentenced to be killed in the electric chair, Ms. Altruist." The judge looks at you with a heavy stare, you look back at him with a sweet smile, "Oh about time Mr judge." You knew about your brother's doings, but you still love him, and still think of him as your brother

You sat on the electric chair, with a small gentle smile, "It's terrifying to see ya still smilin, even if you're gonna die." You chuckled at the officer, "oh you! It's how I am~" the officer looked at you confusedly, "well uhm, are you ready?" You nodded,

He puts a bag in your head, you are starting to see darkness, as you start to feel electrified...

You feel the heavy floor, as you slowly open your eyes(your color palette is the same as alastor!) You were met by a red sky, you sat straight, and stood up, dusting your dress, and looking around your surroundings, it had a different feeling, you were still feeling bangs in your head, you walked down in the alleyway, and stumbled upon a store, you looked into the glass, you looked slightly different... (Your powers are lighting, due to you dying by the electric chair, but I also wanted you to be a deer, just like Alastor, I know it doesn't make sense, but bare with me please!) You had antlers, and ears, your nails were sharp, "Well would you look at that, seems like I'm in hell!" You laughed as the demons around you looked at you weirdly, you smiled back at them and started walking down the street, until you heard a girl singing...

"Today is gonna be a fucking happy d—"

"why hello there my dear!"

she jumped and looked around, she was wearing a suit, (hot pink? Or..pink Mix with red..?) She had long, blonde hair, with lighter blonde and pink highlights, which is tied into a twice-banded low ponytail. Her blonde bangs flip to her left with a curl with an untucked white, long-sleeved dress-shirt. Over this she usually wears a fitted red tuxedo jacket with dark-red lapels and a pair of red fitted pants. She wears black and white saddle shoes. (Found that in wiki..ahem..sorry..)

She looked at you, and laughed nervously "oh hey! Uh.." your smile reminded her of someone but she nudged it off.

"Quite an interesting song sweetheart! My name is _____! I'm quite pleased to be meeting you!"

Charlie softly smiled, "hey, I'm Charlie, Charlie Morningstar, I was heading for a meeting, would you care tooooo...go with me?"

You smiled wickedly, "Morningstar? My! I didn't know that was real, how shocking" you softly smiled, "I'd love to join you sweetheart!" She nods her head, and gestures to you to follow her, as you follow her, with a grave movement.

You both entered, a white looking room, it was a different feeling compared to when you guys were outside, you looked around while Charlie signed something, you looked back at her, and followed where she was going, you both now entered a room who is full of darkness, "Sup." then light suddenly filed the room as Charlie tripped, you helped her up and fixed her hair, "Hi! I-m charlie..uhh..my dad sent a meeting to Uhhh" (I actually forgot what she was saying so I'm really sorry if it's not interesting now) "Really nice to meet you!"

"Rightttt, nice to meet you too!" As the man held his hand out, Charlie went to it and to shake hands with him, only for her hand to go through it.

Timeskip (Really sorry, but I ran out of stuff to say in this part)

You were standing, all the time, you noticed The man kept looking at you, you looked back at him, as he winked at you, you sweat dropped and looked away,the man wore a smooth white and golden cloak that appears to have a large 'A' symbol emblazoned on the front. His visible hands were black in appearance, as well, and had golden tip spikes on the back of his collar. The mask also held a pair of horns similar to an exorcist, albeit longer, smoother, and with a golden ornamental attachment on the tips.

As Charlie talked about the hell population, about like..reducing.

"Oh Uhhh, ugly people?..math!..global warming wait no—"

Charlie talked about "BIGGEST PROBLEM"

"ohhh...yeah..well..that must've sucked for you!" Adam laughed, "Anyway, who's this chick beside ya?" Charlie came to the realization that you were still there, "ohh my gosh! ____! Really sorry, well Uhhh, Adam sir. This is ____!" You smiled widely "Adam is it? First man? Nice to be meeting you! I'm quite pleased!" You smiled even more, and fixed your hair, Adam smirked and got up from his seat and walked towards you, he took your hand and gave the back of your hand a kiss, you imagined alastor being here, you knew he would be fuming.

You chuckled, "how lovely!" You took away your hand, "thought you angels despise demons."

"well demon-tits you're an exception."

"how shocking! Don't call me that please."

"Call me Dick master first."

"hah! Never gonna happen."

Charlie dragged you away from him, she stared at you worriedly.

Adam spoke again "Whoops seems like we're outta time, guess we should get going."

Charlie smiled, "Oh well, I have a lot to go through!" She spawned papers with her hands, "and not a lot of time and I think you weren't hearing me before, so here it goes..

Timeskip after the song.

You already wanted to get out, as you saw Charlie being pushed out by Adam, you tried going to her then Adam grabbed you back, "hey babe, what about you give me a kiss before you go?"

"HAH! no."

You looked at him dumbfounded, as got out of the room, and helped Charlie up, the door closed, you and Adam held an eye contact.

"well how interesting!"

The grammar issues, I'm so sorry!!!

[displ3azant]

(Before cut is In-Character.)

Hiii! Helloooo!

Hello!!!!!! Hehe, thiz iz actually super weird trying to write an intro-- give me a minute.

So, HIII!!!!!!! I'm Unpleasant! That'z not a joke, that iz literally my name. There'z no "deep reason" behind it, it iz literally just what people refer to me az. But, if that'z too weird, I do also go by Unplez or Plez for short.

Uh, pronounz? I don't really care, actually. I don't have a set gender, I've never really met a gradient who doez. That being said, since I started hanging with Infected I have been called he and she specifically a lot... so if it'z easiest for you, just roll with the crowd.

Right, so... the blog. Thatz thiz blog, haha! Well, the easy answer iz I waz super bored, Infected can suck a huge ####, and I like talking about myself! But... I kind of suck at talking in general, so I guess I'll type and answer questionz about myself.

BUT KNOW MY BOUNDARIEZ BEFORE YOU ASK QUESTIONZ! 👇👇👇

(Below cut is Out-Of-Character.)

To those who know me: Good to see you're still stickin' with me! I promise I will make an effort to make this blog much less of a dumpster fire like the last one.

And to those who are only now coming across this blog: Hello! My name is Hex. You don't have to call me "Mod Hex", or anything, just "Hex" will do. I'm the only guy running this thing here. I'll talk more about myself soon, because oversharing is what I do best.

Blog-Context

So, if it wasn't obvious enough from the intro, this is an ask/rp blog for the Unpleasant Gradient from Regretevator, but specifically in the context of the plez-centric au I have created for him. Or, well, the "AU" in question is actually just some freaky amalgamation of all my fucked up headcanons, which means...

I AM NO LONGER DOING DIRECT BLOG ASSOCIATIONS! Really sorry about that, I love my friends with all my heart but if I wanna keep consistency, I'm gonna have to "write the story" on my own. However, I do want to give full credit to my friends @sk8tr1101 and @party-noob for some major concepts involving Unpleasant, especially Audrey who already has some awesome ideas herself. Go check them both out!

MAIN TAGS:

#unpl3zansw3rz - Asks

#unpl3zrambl3z - Non-ask related posts/reblogs

#unpl3zlor3 - Plot points and similar

#ooc - Out-of-character post

OTHER TAGS (to be updated):

(nothing yet, hehe)

Blog-Owner

So hiiii, I'm Hex. If I can be bothered, out-of-character posts will either have the #ooc tag, be in purple text, or be signed off with my name. I'd prefer if you refer to me using he/it pronouns, thnx!

I'd also like you all to keep in mind I am 17 years old, therefore a minor, and even if I wasn't 17 I do not appreciate NSFW/Explicit jokes towards me, ESPECIALLY if you don't know me. It's one thing when you're my very close friends or my partner, it's another thing when you are a stranger on the internet asking me things I should not have to answer.

My other accounts are: @hexexists - my main blog, if you receive notifications from this account, please know it is just me! @hexational - my regretevator blog @geometricgiovanni - a Jeremy ask/rp blog set in the same universe as this one! Please note, however, that in the context of this blog, Unpleasant is not aware of the blog nor would he like to be.

Ask/RP-Boundaries

Let's start off by reiterating that I AM NOT OKAY WITH NSFW/EXPLICIT ASKS IN ANY CAPACITY! Sick of getting them, they're repetitive and annoying. Asking safe-for-work questions involving Unpleasant's anatomy is one thing, but I am not responding to ANYTHING involving genetalia.

ALSO! I am very unlikely to respond to things that is either hard to make a unique drawing for or don't progress the story (unlocking "lore" and such). I'm watching your ass, Mango, I know what you like to do (/lh). Joke asks are still okay, you don't *have* to progress story, but please keep in mind my "criteria" for answering asks when sending them. A clean inbox gives me a clear mind. I do not like notifications.

Shipping content: Shipping content is okay, but I don't care much for romance personally and so will likely not play much into it. Please don't push anything, I guess, and nothing that promotes proshipping or any kind of literally illegal pairing. If you dislike any direction taken ship-wise for this blog, then block me and move on with your day.

Roleplaying: While I'd prefer to not be in direct contact with other rp blogs, I am totally cool with roleplaying side stories and stuff, interactions and such! Please keep in mind though, Unpleasant in this is not a very social person, so you're probably not going to get the reaction you want.

Also! I think OCs are super cool and am happy to respond/interact with them as well! However,

PLEASE DON'T SEND YOUR GRADIENT OCS TO THIS ACCOUNT IF YOU WANT ME TO DRAW THEM! Please instead send them to @hexational! A lot of people were sending me their Gradient ocs to the previous Unpleasant account, and as much as I love seeing Gradient ocs and Gradient sonas, I'd love to be able to draw them, and if you are just asking an opinion on them and not an in-character ask or a genuine question involving other gradients I'd much prefer you send them to the account previously tagged!

That's pretty much all I can think of! Sorry for the long post, I just have a lot to say hehe

Lots of love, - Hex

[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings (Pt. 5)

Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader

WARNINGS: Strained relationships, friendship starters, piercings, awkward truths. Slow Burn.

Summary: Relationships are weird. And truth isn't always kind. At least, you might have a friend.

(Might feel a bit boring, but we're building something here. 🥹)

Pt. 6

"OK. I've got one for you." —

—??

"What's the scariest plant?" —

You almost giggled into the reply in your head. It was another ridiculous joke, silly but science-y that upon reading it on a blog, you instantly thought on sending it to Miguel.

In the meantime while he replied, if he ever did that is, you kept on working in a new project. Despite the previous client complaining initially on the low numbers on her beauty product line, the numbers were making small changes in other states, giving a glimpse of hope in the team.

Your job itself at this marketing company, Searchbloom, was to make the briefs, office automation of said briefs and of course help prepare new campaigns for approved projects and important clients  such as celebrities, big companies, influencers and anyone with enough money to afford a complete market investigation.

Your phone buzzed as you finished another brief from a client.

—Red Tide or Algae Bloom. Really bad for marine ecosystems.

You blinked and shook your head at the little fact that you'd probably forget in the next hours. The giddyness of your comeback taking over once more.

Interesting. I thought it was the BamBOO!—

—Ever thought in going out more?

Damn.

Campy jokes were scratched off your list of things. You could picture in your head the reaction, dead, boring and possibly judging.

I'd need real friends for that(?) —

—Not a bad thing to be on your own, y'know?

Oh?

Swallowing at the dryness of your mouth, you finished the little brief, digitally signed it and sent it to another coworker in the other side of the office cubicles.

I know. But doing things on your own isn't always fun. I mean, I'd really love to go shopping, hanging out for lunch and the like with other people.—

His eyes squinted at your words on his screen

I mean we are social beings by nature, sadly, and as much as I'd like to keep doing things on my own, the making friends fever has taken over. —

—Trust me, don't rush things. They'll come to you in the right time.

Your brows arched in surprise at what you just read and pursed your lips in a tight smile.

I mean, I could ask you to hang out but I know you are a busy man. Plus, I gotta step a bit more out of my comfort zone, ever since I got out of college feels like the right time to start making little changes, can't be socially inadept forever, I guess? —

And I'm not sure if you'd actually be interested in such things, you're a workaholic, so yeah. Sorry for the long ass message. —

He hummed and his lip curled faintly upward

You should try it as well.—

—Got enough to live by. Thanks.

You actually give these "Leave me alone" sorta vibes 🤔—

—That pretty much sums it up.

Oh...

                                      I see—

Your heart gave a wobbly and doleful beat, eyes stuck in reading that sentence over and over again. You gulped laboriously the lump that had just formed in your throat.

He wasn't asking to be left alone, was he? Maybe he was actually hinting that you should leave him alone.

Oh no. No, no.

You hated assumptions. But he was pretty clear about the meaning of the message, right? Right?

Closing his chat log, you put your phone away and tried to pour yourself into work to little to no avail. Your brain felt like split in two, blooming headache biting at the back of your head. Week had just started.

You tried. You tried with all your might to keep the harrowing-thoughts at bay, but over thinking you ever old friend only made things trickier than intended. You barely wanted to look at your phone, cause what would you find there but implicit rejection? Even though the other part of you wanted to reach out, at usual.

Another cold realization. You were the one that always sparked the small and sparse conversations you had.

"... Fuck." Seeing your log of messages with him, offline, just made you cringe at how precisely you were acting and wanted to avoid be seen as. Clingy and desperate.

Gulping down, you pressed on the trash bin icon. Breath stilled for a second as you tapped on the 'Yes' confirmation button. He hadn't replied since yesterday.

Why would he anyways?

Question ghosting over your mind.

It wasn't that hard to process.

His words seemed to make sense now. The palpitations in your heart only made themselves clear further the more you thought about it.

God knows how long he had been waiting to say such things.

You grunted at your thoughts. The noise and unkind thoughts reverberating in your head, made your migraine to simmer to a higher level. You had barely slept as the whole situation was breaking piece by piece the little functionality you had left for the day.

But, tasked yourself with one thing, to not look at your phone through the day. A rather easy task since you only used it to check your little social media, watch funny things or videos that caught your interest.

The knitting and crocheting stash of videos in your gallery weren't enough to keep you distracted. So you had added a new category, city wandering for new spots. And four pm sounded like a good hour to actually start. 

And if wandering the city alone, after work to keep you busy from over thinking probable assumptions wasn't considered a hobbie, you certainly didn't know what else to call it.

So you finished work, clocked out and adventured yourself in the arts of local wanderlust. But of course traffic fucked throughly all chances of doing so. You went to the supermarket to grocery and toiletries shopping.

The situation had made you so oblivious to the fact that you needed to replace some basic stuff at home. Shampoo, toothpaste, conditioner, exfoliants.

You couldn't help but notice the coffee and grain aisle full of new products. Hazelnut lattes, cardamom and clove blends, brands you didn't even know that existed, some cheap, other expensive, and of course you took one in between. A small international sample blend.

Your card surely had died a little when you slid it to pay. Almost a houndred bucks in beauty products and another houndred and a bit more in groceries.

The groceries and toiletries were checked from the expenses list. To your little solace, Mr. Landlord was waiting for you with a man and another door.

You let them work, as you unpacked your things. At least you had a new door, a prettier yet still sturdy like the previous one.

Still, no message from Miguel.

----------

On Wednesday you tasked yourself with the same endeavor as yesterday. Not checking your phone. The videos in your "To watch" list were boring and annoying. Political propaganda, movie recommendation spams, mysoginistic stands ups, reactions to bizarre videos.

Nothing worthy to wasting your time on your lunch break. At least you would have the chance to wander the city on your own. You had noticed some work you had slacked, finished and other projects advanced. A perk you didn't think possible in the admist of chaos.

But why would you even congratulate yourself for doing something that was expected from you?

Right.

You clocked out and once more you went to the city. This time no traffic was there to stop you. Parking in a lot, you took your tote bag and walked. Getting comfy shoes to walk after work was added as a mental note. You stopped on a sidewalk.

Streets bustled with people walking like they were probably late to an appointment, Neon signs begun flashing their lights, adorning the streets with their different colors, different sort of aromas filled in your lungs. Pee, trash, hot dogs, sweets and bakery, perfumes, cigars, gas, weed somewhere.

An overwhelming start. You walked in the bakery's direction. To your surprise when crossing the street it was just a little mobile kiosk with choux pastries. Even though the products looked esthetically pleasing, the prices on the whiteboard underneath, made you turn in the opposite direction. And just then you found your first treasure.

Tea Bar. But not a gentrified-looking tea bar with over the top foliage decor with expensive furnace that charged you for just breathing their air. More like a tavern-esthetic sort of Tea bar named Julien's Potions.

Spices, herbs, and other pastries, rested within funky shaped glass containers, the clerk was also into a sort of role-playing that added a little charm to the place. Hand carved wooden tables and chairs littered strategically the small local. Six tables max. The art on the walls was minimalistic, yet still added to the overall layout in the place.

Prices were significantly much more affordable and the little treat you got, a red berries cold brew tea and Mango muffin, we're exquisite. It gave you enough energy boost to return at the parking lot. Of course you took some pictures of the place.

You felt proud. Your first solo adventure had been wonderful.

On Thursday you had ran into a little fancy liqueur shop. Ironically as it was, alcohol and you didn't get along, but the different labels, the shape of the bottles, the year of brewing, the array of sizes and prices, the origin place, made it all too pretty for you to ignore. There were bottles that surely would  cost at least five months worth of your paycheck.

Friday was a busy day at work and of course you just went home. On Sunday you had found a well hidden treasure, a bakery. This time, you took more pictures of the different pastries you had never seen before. Petit fours intricately adorned with such precision you wondered if they had a special machine for it.

Puff creams, chocolate croissants, pain au chocolate, Buttery buns that made you salivate. It kinda brought you back to the baking school sales, your mom's peach gallete and strawberry tarts were popular, and  the only two recipes you knew by heart. The rest, long forgotten and replaced with new hobbies' knowledge.

-------

A week and a half had been exactly gone by, and not looking at your phone had been easier than you had thought. You had discovered a few more places to add to your personal list. A crystal and esoterism shop, where you bought lavender incense. A little thift shop where you got a lovely and fashionable champagne colored trench coat. And today, you kinda wondered where you'd take yourself on a Friday evening

This time you hoped to find a knitting shop. Starting a new hobby meant to invest in it. And your cheap wools had ran out as you were learning the basics of knitting. After work, you'd park your car in a spot of the parking lot, but to your surprise it was closed early. So you drove until you'd find another, nearby the thrift shop you had found. Open 24/7.

You walked east, the bustle of the city wasn't as loud in some parts of it. You gave the thrift shop's clerk a brief smile before continuing down the street. To your surprise there was a Tattoo and Piercing studio. A.F.A.U.'s Emporium. Sid Vicious' voice reverberating through the place the closer you approached.

Your eyes widened upon seeing none other than Hobie on the front desk, organizing a bunch of guitar cords. The place was divided in two. To the left there was the tattoo artists and piercing cubicles. To the right, apparels and other handicrafts were neatly displayed before anyone that actually took the time in looking.

Walls painted in jet black, with a dim white grunge texture as a decor. Pictures of protests, famous singers that made a significant impact on society through their subversive forms of expressions were hung on the wall.

Jello Biafra, Kathleen Hanna, Patti Smith, David Vanian, to name a few, along some bands logos spray painted in some spaces.

A stark contrast with your well dressed for the system-look. Hobie arched a brow at you and chuckled.

"Got lost in the way, birdie?"

You shook your head as you kept looking around.

"I was wandering the city, actually found this place by mere coincidence. Looks pretty cool."

"Humbly"

"You work here?"

He sneered and shook his head.

"I owe it. Me and many others, actually. I'm just the face fo' it."

"What does... AF..."

"Anti Fascist Artist United." He sniffed as his lip twitched.

Your eyebrows rose and you glanced over the piercing cubicles.

"So ya just... wander in the city and see what happens?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Cool. But dangerous."

"I never go too deep in the city just... the outsides. Don't want to fuck around to find out what's in store for me." you chuckled, Hobie followed.

He tucked his hands on his pockets and walked over you, he motioned to follow him.

"How come every time we met you turn cooler?"

He shrugged and took you to the handicrafts.

"You did them?"

"No. My work's on the other side. These are made by local artist that are involved one way or the other in tryin'to get mo' spaces for people that actually bring a change into community."

"So all of this Merch..."

"Ain't free, that fo'sure."

You giggled

"No, I mean, You just rented this place to give other people a space to offer their art and goods without charging them?"

"Nah. they do pay a small quota, meaning, they can come and clean up, organize shite. Government pays the rent, they get full profit of their thingies. Everyone's happy."

"And the tattoo part?"

He smirked and shrugged.

"Government pays the rent, so... puttin' that to good use."

Your eyes widened slightly and you just nodded.

"Might need a bit of that smart for myself."

"You gotta shape it, birdie. Anyways, what brings ya here besides, yer 'wanderlust'?"

You sighed and shook your head.

"Been wandering the city on my own to try and distract me from something that is messing me up. Just glad I found a familiar face after almost two weeks of random strangers."

"Life's a bitch, innit?"

You nodded and went through the merchandise. T shirts with trippy designs, Pottery in fruit shaped bowls, handcrafted watercolors and painting supplies and of course, knitting tools. Your grabbed a couple of  wools and paid him to take  the small bundle with you.

"So what yer' here for?"

You looked up at him and sighed

"I'm trying to make friends on my own."

"How's that going?".

You shrugged and a humorless laugh came out your mouth.

"I mean... ever since college... way even before that, actually-" You looked up and scratched your neck awkwardly when he gave you his seizing stare.

"Sorry. Don't wanna bore you with my ramblings."

"Haven't said nuffin'" He sat across you and looked at your fumbling hands. The music had died down a bit.

"Saw yer door being replaced."

"Oh yeah. I'm glad I'm not getting stuck anymore." You looked at him and chuckled.

"Whut?"

"Do you always stare at people like you're judging their choices?"

"Yeah. Makes it funnier when they get all squeamish. Like ye."

"I'm not squeamish."

He arched an eyebrow and you both chuckled.

"Can I ask your age?"

"So ya can feel a Lil'more glum for what you might have or haven't achieved so far?"

"My thoughts exactly." you shrugged with a silent laugh.

"24."

"Ah, yeah. I can already feel the disappointment."

"A too well dressed disappointment"

"Is that why you call me... uh... runway girl?"

"No. Glam life, glam dressing, glam job. Runway sort of shite, so runway girl. Been there, done that. Not fo' me."

You didn't know whether to feel offended or laugh at his assumptions. Everyone was assuming lately.

"My life is anything but glam, Hobie. Just work enough to keep appearances. Something that my job also requires from me."

"That's why the name is perfect for ya"

"It's boring."

He pursed his pierced lips in mild derision

"Graduated uni?"

you nodded.

"Found a job of what you did study for?" Again, you nodded and sighed.

He chuckled.

"Still, you're just assuming. My life is boring. Really. One would think that working in branding companies offers you alot. But it's just another fancy way to say you're-"

"Another workforce for da capitalism?"

You chuckled and shrugged.

"Yeah, I guess. And people think I actually hang out with celebrities-"

"You don't?" He snorted and you frowned

"See?! You were assuming things! And no. It's rare when I actually meet someone famous. I basically make resumes of what they want, how they want it and make it come true. And if I ever meet them means no good. And still I have to dress up like I'm interviewing someone important."

" A wish maker, then. Might call ye Fairy."

" Sounds less brash than Runway girl actually."

" So lemme get this, you graduated uni, are working on something you actually prepared yourself for, dress up like an expensive doll, but... ya wander the city alone tryin' to make friends? "

"Sounds a bit more depressing and pathetic when you put it that way." He tittered at your words.

"Sounds like you're just living by."

"Yeah. That's been a recurrent feeling, even before college."

"What do ye want?"

"Uh... what?"

"Like, yer acting like yer living the life some dream of, but have the life some hate. That leaves ye in the middle. What do ya want?"

"Right now? I'd like a hug and be told everything, at least up here" You pointed at your head, "Will be fine. But since life is a bitch, I wanna get my ears pierced actually."

His smile was satisfied.

"That's a start innit?"

"Yeah... just realized that ever since college, I... didn't get the chance to do a lot of things."

"Uni seems like the dementor of people's dreams. Even worse if it's private." You chuckled and nodded. He motioned for you to follow to the front desk.

"Both ears?"

"Nah, just my right one for the moment."

"A'ight. Pick one, it's on me."

You looked at him with excited eyes, he just smiled.

"This one. It looks soo cool and it's stylish." You went for a triple helix hoop in your upper lobe.

"Golden, silver or colored?"

"Uh... golden."

He prepared his working area. Your chest felt a bit less constricting.

-----

The first thing you  did when coming home, besides giving Hobie a ride and greeting his mom on the hallway and getting a random invitation for afternoon tea, was to look at your new body modification on the mirror. Golden 6 mm hoops adorned your ear. You couldn't help but feel giddy and a little sore. Hobie was careful, and he was a pro at it.

Your phone had been buzzing nonstop hours ago. You made a quick dinner for yourself out of the left overs. You then took a shower and changed into your pjs, TV remote on hand, The Diary of Bridget Jones ready to play for the third time, when the notification sound dinged. You groaned.

Your thumbs padded and scrolled through the logs. Some were from the work's group chat reviewing the week's assignments, others from your social media announcing new videos for you to watch, your ex college classmates uploading new photos, and something more unexpected.

Miguel's name on the bottom of your notifications. It was almost comical how you had to rub your eyes and make a double take to confirm that it was him. He had messaged you. Your heart skipped a beat. Your thumb hovering on the unread text, like if reading it would make the room to suddenly explode.

You pressed on it and all you could do was blink almost stupidly at it's contents.

—If you're done giving me the silent treatment drop by on sunday. Need your help.

---------

Taglist:

@yeyrpp2 @zaddyskye69 @gejo333 @bigbassbug @daddylorianisastateofmind @namjooningera @d1lf-loverrr @amb3rrz @xantic0101 @niyanispunk

[ao3commentoftheday]

any tips for starting a brand new tag?

I'm guessing that you're talking about getting a tag canonized? (that means that the Tag Wranglers add it to the Archive database and it shows up in the dropdown menu as an option for tagging, searching, and filtering)

I'm going to give you some general tips from what I'm aware of, and I'll let any tag wranglers out there add on specifics. I'll also suggest this post as a great resource. It's 3.5 years old now, but I think most of it holds up. You can also check out the whole blog takeover by reading the ask a wrangler tag on this blog.

Now for the tips!

make your tag specific to your fandom (generic concepts that apply across multiple fandoms are... it's complicated)

only include 1 idea in your tag (e.g. John Doe is bi and autistic is two ideas. If you want it canonized, create one tag for John Doe is bi and another tag for John Doe is autistic).

If, like the example above, it's an additional tag that's about a particular character, include the character's full name. After the tag is created, you and your fellow fans can use a shortened version but while you're trying to get it off the ground, you need to make sure the Wrangler who reads it knows it's about that specific John Doe from that specific fandom.

make sure the idea that you're tagging for is clear. 15 years ago someone made John Winchester's A+ parenting, sarcastically referring to what a crappy father he was, and now we have people who are using Character's A+ parenting to mean that that character is actually a good parent too. It's a fun tag, but since it now has 2 diametrically-opposed meanings, that makes it hard to use when you're trying to read a particular kind of fic.

recruit your fandom friends to use the tag too. If you're the only one using it, it most likely won't get canonized. General rule of thumb is that at least three separate authors need to use a tag before it gets added to the database - sometimes more, if the fandom is huge. More people using it is a sign to the wranglers that there's a need in the fandom to make this concept searchable.

Sorry for all of the colours in this reply. I was trying to make it clear which part of the text was a tag and which wasn't 😆

Wranglers? Please correct anything I got wrong and add in any advice you have. i bow to your expertise!

[adore-laur]

MILESTONES

— a series of firsts from the dadrry universe 🩵

——

The First Hunch

Intuition seemed to follow Harry around the house like a ghostly shadow.

The irregular morning sickness could have been entirely coincidental. Still, the moment you lost the hopeless battle of keeping your eyes open and eventually drifted off beside him was the indisputable sign he had been seeking. You, the person he knew like the back of his hand, were succumbing to a nap before dinner. The notably rare occurrence was a spectacle to behold, and he didn't move a single muscle except for his heart that wildly thumped in his chest at the mere thought of it being true.

You had to be pregnant. No other conclusion could be drawn.

When you awoke an hour later in an evening daze with mellow light from the sunset casting a silhouette of the open shutters on your face, Harry found it amusing how disoriented your expression was. It was almost as if you were astonished at how your body managed to do a simple human function, such as letting yourself fall asleep. He gazed down at you and raised his eyebrows with an unspoken assumption of what you had been so futilely denying to him and yourself.

"Don't say anything," you said through a yawn before he could make a witty comment.

Harry kissed your forehead and knowingly smiled against it. "Just take a test, love. There's no use in putting it off any longer."

"I'm scared,” you mumbled.

"Why?" he asked softly, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders. You rubbed your tired eyes while sinking into his embrace. "We've talked about how much we want this."

"It's still scary.”

Harry swallowed thickly. Hell, he was scared too. Priorities shift tectonically once a baby is born and brought home to be raised for eighteen years. How did a person even go about preparing for that enormous of a responsibility? It was always nice to fantasize about until the harsh realities of parenthood caused him to spiral mentally.

"Well," he said with a loving pinch to your cheek, "I think it's a girl."

You grinned into the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Have you been reading up on things already?"

"Maybe," he mused. Setting his feet on the ottoman, he continued, "Look at me for a second." You did, and he absentmindedly stroked his thumb across your stomach. "Tell me that you don't think you're pregnant."

A wary pause ensued. Your unintentional signals were as clear as day.

"I think I am," you whispered.

"For real?"

"Harry, you're the one who's so confident I am."

"I know, but... do you actually feel like there's a baby?" His palms turned clammy when he said it out loud. "It's your body. I'm just guessing based on mum blogs I read online."

You pursed your lips, then replied, "What else could it be? My period was supposed to start two weeks ago. And I've been nauseated recently."

"Do you want to take a test soon?" he asked, trying to steady his ragged breathing.

You nodded briskly. "Sure. I'll buy some after work tomorrow."

"Promise me," he pleaded, a slight impatience taking over him of wanting—no, needing—to confirm it once and for all.

"I promise. We'll find out this week." You were deliberately quiet for a moment before you asked, "Why do you think it's a girl?"

Harry immediately perked up and held his pointer finger in the air. "An old wives' tale claims that—"

"Stop right there," you interrupted with a hand to his chest.

"No, hear me out." He laughed contagiously and cradled your cheeks. "They say if you crave sweets, then it's a girl. Remember when you begged me to make cinnamon rolls for breakfast a couple of days ago? I had to go to the store for more milk because you were on the verge of tears."

You narrowed your eyes. "Everyone gets cravings, though. It doesn't mean they're pregnant. Or that it's a girl."

He frowned and said, "You're starting to sound like you don't want to be pregnant."

"I do," you replied frantically, kissing his precious pout. "I do, Harry. I want a baby with you more than anything."

"Then let's find out. There's nothing to be afraid of."

——

The First Heartbeat 

Boundless possibilities could either leave you in a state of serenity or absolute shambles. The thin paper on the exam table crunched under you when you shifted restlessly for the umpteenth time, your jittery limbs bouncing with each second that noisily ticked by on the clock. Shirt bunched up to your ribcage, you awaited the gel that would be spread on your stomach. The skin there had become a little firmer during the previous week, yet somehow pudgier.

Harry stood next to you, his face visibly flushed with an equal amount of anxiousness. He looked around the room with observant eyes, scanning the daunting equipment and colorful pamphlets that presented themselves to eager parents-to-be.

He got off work early and rushed to the hospital to meet you, still in the grubby clothes he wore in the restaurant kitchen. You noticed his fingernails were bitten raw when he grabbed your elbow and leaned in for a kiss hello. Gentle and nervous smiles had been exchanged before the two of you walked down the hallway toward the elevators, your arms looped around his waist.

As the ultrasound gel was applied with an icy sensation that made you jolt, you held your breath and locked eyes with your husband.

"Is it cold?" he whispered, wringing his hands together.

"Yeah," you answered just as quietly.

The room was so still you could probably hear a pin drop. You inhaled deeply when the doctor moved the transducer wand around your lower stomach. Harry cleared his throat and broke eye contact with you to watch the computer screen that displayed a blurry black-and-white view of your womb. It was strange to see the inside of your body and even more strange to know a baby was growing in there.

After a painstaking moment, the device finally picked up on the most beautiful, muffled heartbeat. It wasn't your own, and it wasn't Harry's—it was your baby's. A lub-dub rhythm that was your responsibility to bring into the world.

Harry whistled in amazement and pressed two shaky fingers against his lips. He glanced between you and the screen several times before touching his heart and rubbing the spot. A reaction took over him that you had never seen before. Tears welled in his eyes, and a transfixed smile dimpled his cheeks. A sentimental ache bloomed in your chest, caused by love for him and his vulnerability.

"They've got a very strong and healthy heartbeat," said the doctor while adjusting the screen monitor.

You stared at the ultrasound showing a blob with no distinguishable features or anatomy, yet it was somehow part of you and part of the man you lived and breathed for.

"Harry, look," you said through an emotionally tightened throat.

He crouched beside you and sniffled. "I see, sweetheart."

"How far along am I?" you asked the doctor, blindly reaching for Harry's hand.

"Around eight weeks," they told you, clicking their pocket pen and writing down information. "As for your due date, you guys will be looking forward to early November!"

Harry clutched your hand, leaving a prolonged kiss on your knuckles. "An autumn baby," he murmured against your skin. He then turned his attention to the doctor and asked, "Can we please have copies of the ultrasound pictures to hang on the fridge at home?"

The timing was perfect. The color of the leaves would change the same way your lives would together. It would be a season filled with pure bliss and a turning of the tide. The end of the year would give you a love you could cherish forever.

——

The First Cry 

"Is she breathing?"

It was the first string of words that tumbled from Harry's mouth after you gave birth. Babies were supposed to cry once they came into the world. Why wasn't she crying? Where were the shrieks he had prepared for months to hear?

Nurses crowded around you as she was pulled out all the way and set on your chest, her squirming body sensitive to the air. It was beautiful chaos happening in slow motion. Harry felt like he was floating outside of his body, feeling a surreal concoction of confusion, euphoria, and hysteria.

"W-what... why isn't she crying?" you choked out breathlessly. Your body was shaking due to the immediate shift in hormones.

Two nurses roughly rubbed your daughter with towels until she gurgled a high-pitched wail. Relief, relief, relief. Nothing could quite encapsulate Harry's raw emotion when he heard that sound come from a fresh pair of baby lungs. It was piercingly loud and overwhelming, yet heavenly to his ears.

Harry stepped forward with a wide smile. "There she is," he said, his voice scratchy. "She's here, love. She's breathing."

Your hands, wavering and sweaty, cautiously cupped your daughter's fragile figure. With that first maternal touch, you broke down with a cascading waterfall of tears.

"Hi, baby girl," you cried happily. "Shh, it's okay. You scared us for a second."

Eyes glossy, lips trembling, and heart growing tenfold, Harry was lost in admiration. The scene surrounding him was a mess, and it was merely an afterthought in his mind. He had never been so mesmerized by someone except for the day he married you. Even so, this was a different type of love—one that had flourished over nine months and was now a tangible fondness lasting for eternity.

Absent nods and weak affirmations were given to the nurse's questions thrown his way. The bubble he was in simply couldn't be popped. You scooted over on the hospital bed so he could sit next to you while they suctioned his daughter's tiny mouth, nose, and ears. Her cries were still going strong, and Harry soaked them in as he smoothed over the back of her small head with his hand. She had a decent amount of hair, courtesy of his genes, and something about that realization broke the dam behind his eyes.

When he blearily looked at your awestruck face, he knew he had made the right choice. The mother of his baby girl. And, if he got lucky, a couple other bundles of joy as well. It had to be you. No one else made him feel as complete as you did.

"We had a baby," you whispered in disbelief, staring at him with eyes rapt in wonder.

Through his tears, Harry laughed with astonishment. "It was all you. Do you hear me? All you." He kissed your dewy cheekbone. "I'm so grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you."

You exhaled heavily and murmured, "I'm starving."

"When we get home, I'm going to cook you the best damn meal you've ever had in your life."

——

The First Smile 

Harry entered the sunlit nursery with dragging movements similar to those of a zombie. He had only one sock on and the staticky-sounding baby monitor tucked under his armpit.

That morning, a whopping four hours of interrupted sleep was the new record. The days and nights blended together like watercolor on wet paper, and no amount of espresso shots or afternoon naps could cure his poor, sleep-deprived soul. His circadian rhythm had now changed to a cadence of chaos, and there was nothing he could do about it. The millisecond he became a dad, a certain little someone shifted to the number one spot on his list of priorities.

After turning on the lamp in the corner of the room and setting the baby monitor down, Harry leaned against the bassinet and let his baby girl's subsiding cries wake him up just like a freshly brewed pot of coffee would. They made him feel sad, but if getting up at the same time as the sun meant they could be soothed somehow (and that you could get more shut-eye), then he would do it over and over again.

Harry eventually reached down to pull his daughter's tiny body against his bare chest. It made his heart swell how she always calmed in his arms. "Already up and at 'em, huh?" he rasped, giving her his knuckle to suckle on since the whereabouts of her pacifier were unknown. She cooed and looked at him with curious eyes that resembled yours. "Why are you so precious all the time? Got me so wrapped around your finger that I couldn't possibly be mad at you for waking me up this early."

She kicked her legs outward, apparently a happy camper now that she got some love from her dad. Harry shook his head in amusement. "Were those fake cries?" he accused lightheartedly.

Once he changed her diaper and stole a few minutes of snuggles before she started becoming fussy again, his next destination was the kitchen, where most mornings began as a new family of three. Opening the fridge decorated with baby pictures galore and a calendar scribbled full of upcoming postpartum appointments, he grabbed the first bag of breast milk he saw and then took an empty baby bottle out of the dishwasher so he could make her breakfast. He honestly couldn't remember the last time he had the energy to cook himself a nourishing meal before noon.

Harry attempted to screw on the cap of the bottle using only one hand since his other was being occupied by a hungry, babbling baby. His face grew hot with frustration when the cap kept resisting being twisted, and it definitely didn't help when the bottle tipped straight over, causing valuable milk to spill onto the counter. Nice going, idiot. That wasn't good at all. He dreaded delivering the news to you, especially considering you recently told him how pumping felt like an extreme sport.

"Well, that's just wonderful," he muttered while looking down at his daughter, wholly prepared for her to literally cry over spilled milk.

But no, she didn't cry. Instead, she smiled at him for the first time. A gummy, wonky baby smile that woke him right up.

Harry gasped in surprise and completely forgot about the milk mishap, his heart pounding. "Are you smiling at me? Holy sh— I mean, shoot. We gotta show your mum. Wait, she's sleeping. Um, okay, hold on." He aimlessly scanned the kitchen for his phone. "Keep smiling, okay? I need to take a picture of this."

He abandoned the 'no phone around the baby' rule and rounded the corner of the island. In the process, he accidentally hit his side on the edged corner, causing him to stifle a groan. His clumsiness made his daughter smile even wider, along with a noise that could be interpreted as a giggle if he believed hard enough. And if he looked close enough, he could make out two miniature dimples indenting her cheeks.

He picked up his phone, and with the rays of the golden sunrise dancing over her happy face, he snapped a picture while his face beamed behind the camera. "Look at you," he cooed, pressing the capture button repeatedly. "Is my struggling funny to you? Hmm? Just wait until mommy sees this. She'll freak out."

After he put his phone away, which now had nineteen new keepsakes in its photo album, he observed her a little longer. At that moment, a sudden realization dawned upon him.

His daughter's smile looked a lot like his own.

——

The First Year 

Hot wax dripped from the candle in the shape of the number one, making a black mark on the cake's blue fondant. It took the combined respiratory strength of three people to blow the puny flame out. Afterward, there was a brief pause in the festivities to settle a crying baby because it escaped Harry's adult mind that babies don't know how candles — or birthdays in general — work.

The cake was made with admirable precision that he somehow pulled off using his amateur cake-decorating skills from ages ago. Piped seashells made from buttercream frosting sat atop the circular cake, and a message of Happy Birthday was spelled out in dainty cursive icing. A graham cracker and sugar concoction caressed the bottom edges to resemble sand, and an impressive starfish cookie rested against the side. She wouldn't remember the cake, or the day for that matter, but Harry definitely would.

Once the slices were eaten, it was time to clean up for the night. The cheap chandelier hanging over the kitchen table shined upon a dirty mess of paper plates, plastic utensils, and opened presents containing toys aplenty.

"I need a shower," you told him, an exhausted sputter leaving your lips after you threw all the crumpled napkins away. "Do you mind cleaning the rest?"

"Not at all. C'mere." Harry loosely grabbed your elbow and pulled you toward him, smacking a vanilla-flavored kiss onto your mouth. "Love you. Go relax."

You thumbed away some frosting on his chin. "Don't put her to bed without me, okay?"

He smiled softly and stole another kiss, slower this time. "I won't. We're actually planning on partying all night."

You just laughed and made your way upstairs. Harry took it upon himself to clean the kitchen until it was spotless for you. He had been genuinely trying to help more around the house since motherhood is no easy feat on the body and mind. Taking an extra load off your shoulders was the least he could do as part of his lifelong repayment for giving him the most extraordinary experience imaginable.

After every surface was scoured clean, he walked over to his daughter and kneeled, observing her childlike wonder as she smeared frosting on the tray of her highchair. Curious eyes distracted, he felt a crashing wave of emotion wash over him. It just didn't seem possible that an entire year had already passed by. Wasn't it just yesterday that he unbuckled her from her car seat and showed her around her forever home? Didn't her newborn fingers curl instinctively around his thumb whenever he pressed it to her palm? Hadn't she only been something he dreamed about with you?

If he thought about it too much, he'd start weeping.

"Stop growing, please," Harry said while scrubbing her sticky fingers with a baby wipe. "I know you need to, but it's killing me inside."

She looked up at the sound of his voice. "Da da da da," she babbled, fists excitedly hitting the tray and becoming dirty again.

He sighed and decided to give her a sink bath before bedtime. "Yes, I'm your dad. And you need to listen to him when he tells you to stop growing, yeah?"

"No!" Her new favorite word was spoken shamelessly, and Harry couldn't help but chuckle.

"All right, little lady. Keep breaking my heart, then."

She raised her arms. "Up."

After standing with a huff, Harry lifted her in the air and shook her body playfully until she let out an infectious burst of giggles. Tickles came next, an innocent attack on her belly as she squirmed over his shoulder. He held onto her kicking legs and stomped up the stairs dramatically, making a right turn into the master bedroom. A gentle toss of her on the bed had her giggling even louder.

"An entire year of loving you," he said, kissing her cheeks repeatedly. "Happy birthday, lovebug."

——

The Last Night 

There used to be a time when her legs couldn't wrap all the way around Harry's waist because they were simply too short. What were once chunky baby legs that happily kicked against his rib cage turned into toddler ones that kicked because they wanted to run free.

No more holding her sideways while she fit like a puzzle piece in the crook of his elbow. No more swaddling her tightly in a blanket after a midnight meltdown. No more tummy time, carrying her in a sling, or being there to catch her whenever she tried to walk on her own. Her dependence was slipping away.

Time was slipping away even faster.

Often, he looked back on all the moments he had taken for granted with his firstborn. Those screeching cries that wouldn't stop no matter what, leaving him with a daylong migraine and maybe a side of tears. Those tantrums that left him feeling defeated and on edge, only to end with her just wanting to be held by him. Those summer evenings on the beach, only him and her lying on a blanket and watching the sun go down while he answered all her nonsensical questions about the world around her.

Tomorrow, the date circled on the calendar's December page would allow Harry to relive those moments. However, it would be with an entirely new person he's never met. It'd be undeniably different — an accustomed bond to be formed and a shift in dynamic to adjust to. A challenge of keeping two humans safe instead of one.

Was he ready for that?

"Are you ready to be a big sister?" Harry asked the tiresome, limp child in his arms. Might as well pass off the question to someone unaware of it all.

"No."

He laughed at the confidence with which she answered. "I understand. It's a huge responsibility, but you'll be a natural. That's what your mom told me before you were born."

She nodded slowly against his shoulder, most likely oblivious to what he said. "Wanna go night-night."

"I know." The weight of his soul sunk, realizing time was ticking by faster than he'd like it to. "Let me hold you for a while longer. Is that okay?" Another nod. "You can fall asleep, darling. I promise I'll carry you to bed and tuck you in."

"Where's Mama?" she asked with her sweet, soft voice.

Harry rubbed soothing circles on her back, and tears stung behind his eyes for some reason. "She needs rest just like you do," he explained vaguely, not wanting to talk about the pre-labor pain you had been so gracefully pushing through the entire day. "Grandma's taking you to the park tomorrow, so you can't be cranky."

"Okay," she mumbled, approximately thirty seconds from a dream-filled sleep.

After swiping a finger down her button nose to get her eyes to flutter shut, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and steadily hiked up the staircase toward her room. He checked on you when he passed the master bedroom, finding you hunched over the bed and swaying through a contraction. It hurt to see you in such discomfort.

Harry opened the door to his daughter's bedroom, laid her in her toddler bed, and tucked the blanket around her body like he did every night. "Sleep well, sweetheart. Don't grow up overnight."

Her eyes popped open, and she was suddenly wide awake due to not being in his arms anymore. "'I'm not tired."

"You just said you wanted to go night-night!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Go to sleep, crazy girl," he told her, ruffling her hair. Your mum needs me right now. Can you tell your angels and fairies to make her feel better?"

She hummed an affirmation and settled down. Harry's lips twitched into a smile, and he spread his arms out in his unvoiced gesture of love. She immediately spread her arms out too.

"Love you this big," she said cutely.

"Love you even bigger," he replied, gently pinching her cheek.

Doubt, incompetence, and fear swirled in his stomach when he realized that come tomorrow, he would no longer have his paternal attention solely focused on the little girl in front of him. His chest ached for her, knowing how hard it'd be to adjust to someone who required more nurture and care under the same roof. He'd just have to share his love, and his heart was more than capacious enough to manage that.

Before Harry turned off the lights, he confessed a secret that had only been shared between them. "You'll always be my biggest love."

——

[judesmoonbeauty]

Fairytale Final Assessment 1st Anniversary SE: Jude Jazza's Epilogue ཐིཋྀ

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do NOT post my translations elsewhere.

CW: Brief mention of castration. Translation notes are marked with *** Alternate translation is marked with/// Hour Glass Banners Credit: @/natimiles ཐིཋྀ

Kate, your work has reached my ears. Thank you as always.

Therefore, I would like you to evaluate one thing.

I wonder if Jude, who is cursed, is worthy of the Crown.

After reading the letter from Her Majesty several times, I finally understood. 

Just the other day, Jude and I were engaged in a battle over the Fairytale Keeper Continuation Agreement.

(Does that mean I'm going to assess Jude this time?)

(You're giving me the opportunity to make a fair judgment. Her Majesty is indeed very open-minded.)

(If it's an assignment, I have to face Jude properly and submit a report!)

There is no mention in the text that the person should be kept in the dark.

I mean, the quickest way to do that is to ask Jude himself about it, and his intentions to stay at Crown.

Jude: I don't know anything about that. When you ask someone for something, shouldn’t you pay them for the information?

(I can't for the life of me believe that he will tell me honestly….)

(Come to think of it, I never asked Jude in depth why he was at Crown.)

It’s said that he dared to sign a contract with Crown when Victor suspiciously approached him with a tearful face, I’m sure…. I’m not wrong that it was to get information you need.

(I guess I have no choice but to observe Jude...)

Ellis: Your brow’s wrinkled. Thinking?

Kate: Oh, Ellis. 

Kate: Just in time! Do you know where Jude is today?

Ellis: It seems like Jude went on a mission after showing up at work. What's wrong?

Kate: Actually...

When I explained the reason, Ellis smiled.

Ellis: I'm joining Jude after this, so let’s go together.

Ellis led us to a pub with a suspicious atmosphere even though it was daytime.

There, Jude was in the middle of a cruel and merciless judgment.

Jude: Oy, no runnin’ away. The story is your usin’ illegal sleeping pills, messin’ ‘round with girls, and sellin’ ‘em off.

Scoundrels: Guh….!

Ellis: Kate , if bottles start flying, it won’t be safe, so stay here and hide.

Ellis: I’ll be there.

Kate: Ah, yes! Ellis, be careful not to get hurt too.

Ellis: Jude, here you go.

Jude: Tsk, what’re ya waitin’ for?

Ellis: I'm sorry. I'll try a little harder to make up for my tardiness.

I watch Jude and Ellis fight together from the shadows.

Liquor bottles and people lightly fly through the air, and the sound of blows rings out.

(Hmmm...this is what it means to scream.)

(This is supposed to be a Crown assignment.)

Jude does not follow the orders of others unconditionally unless the conditions are acceptable.

Therefore, there must be a reason why Jude accepted this mission.

In the meantime, everyone had fallen to the ground.

Jude: What, ya think I'm gonna kill ya? I’m not gonna to kill ya.

Jude: There's a coal mine at the far end of the country, and I thought it’d be fun doin’ manual labor there.

Scoundrels: ……. A coal mine?

Jude: Before you go to a cold, dark, and fun place, I'll give you a present.

Jude: Ellis, take ‘em to the black market surgeon later. Hand ‘em all over to be castrated.

Ellis: Yeah, okay. If it makes you happy, Jude.

As the thugs screamed in despair, Jude put a cigarette in his mouth and lit it.

Jude: The prevalence of inferior products is proof that the drugs weren’t distributed sufficiently.

Jude: ……Guess we’ll just have to handle it ourselves.

Jude's company eliminates the value of inferior products by distributing the correct products.

(That’s how Jude tries to eliminate evil at its source.)

Thanks to all the time I've spent, I had unintentionally come to understand Jude's way of doing things.

(The method may be as radical as ever.)

(But, there are somethings you can not protect with a straightforward approach. That’s why…)

Kate: Jude is absolutely essential to Crown…..

Jude: So, how long are you going to be sneaking around in there?

Kate: ….ah.

I was thrown onto a bed in a room at the back of the pub, and his hands restrained me while lying down.

Jude: You’re a real bad princess for peeping without permission. 

Jude: So, what are you up to now?

Kate: That’s…..

Jude: I could torture ya and make ya spit it out. You're a pervert who expects to be tortured, aren't ya?

I could smell the scent of sandalwood wafting from Jude, and my body temperature seemed to rise once.

Jude: Ha. Why’re ya lookin’ so hopeful? Ya really are a pervert who likes things that feel good.

Kate: T-that's wrong! Actually- 

Jude: Hmmm, reverse assessment.

Jude: That's just like that woman who loves fairness. ***

Jude: So, ya followed me ‘round to review me. You've come a long way.

Kate: As for following you around without telling you, I'm sorry.

Kate: But thanks to that, I was able to reaffirm what’s important to me.

Jude: What?

Kate: You are definitely suited for the Crown.

Jude: Ha. Who d’ya think ya are?

Kate: I’m a fairytale keeper. Hehe, I think I can write a good report with this.

Kate: I'll write it perfectly, so you can rest assured, Jude. Well then, I'm -

Jude: Why’re ya tryin’ to go home? There's no way ya could just spy on me and go for free.

Kate: Eh.

Jude: There's another matter to tend to.

Jude: I just need a decoy. You love hide-and-seek, don't ya?

Kate: A decoy!?

Jude: Poor thing. Ya wanna go home, but can’t. Pay the price for sneaking without permission.

Kate: Oh, come on….!

Jude: Those defiant eyes are so temptin’.

Amethyst eyes looked down at me cruelly becoming distorted.

Kate: In the report, you know I can write down all of your actions, Jude.

Jude: Write, write. However…

Jude leaned forward and looked into my face.

Jude: You...wouldn't you be lonely without me?***

Kate: …….

Kate: That’s not true….!

Jude: Huh. What are ya upset ‘bout?

[Master List]

***白々しい This appears to be a nuance: Jude’s being insincere about the Queen’s apparent fairness. It can be rendered white-wash, insincere, bare-faced (lie), shameless, but I felt that this was used just to explain his insincerity or doubtfulness in the Queen. ***Just to clarify, Kate is essentially threatening that what she writes in her report about Jude can cause his dismissal from Crown. So, that's why he tells her to write it, but.....she'll miss him, won't she?

[xhoneygirlxx]

Love Ridden

Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: moving sucks, especially when you don't know anyone and you don't have any friends. one day a black cat comes and keeps you company, maybe he won't be the only friend you make.

warnings: pure fluff. neighbor!eddie. pronouns aren't used, reader's body/ethnicity/skin tone is not mentioned. reader and eddie are both in their twenties. swearing. slight angst: mentions of loneliness. I'm an 18+ blog, minors please go away. not proofread, shitty writing and grammar errors.

*if i miss anything lmk know!

a/n: day three of my birthday week!!! you guys have been so lovely, i love you all so much!! i hope you guys have been enjoying this week as much as i have!! I'm so sorry for the late upload, life has been pretty busy this week!

I guess I wouldn’t mind to fall in love a little bit. 

Ouch, I think I feel a little more.

Stepping out onto the small porch, you're met the chill of the morning air, your nose and cheeks being victim to the cold nip of the wind. The watercolor gray sky hides the sun behinds it's endless clouds. Birds chirp a song in the empty trees before they flap their wings, taking off in flight.

It's peaceful here, quieter than the city life than you were so used to. Out here in Forrest Hills you didn't have to worry about honking cars or the chatter of drunk college students walking home from the bar at odd hours of the night. Out here in the middle of nowhere, you had yourself and the company of strangers you had yet to meet.

Only being here for two weeks, you haven't been able to meet the other people that occupy the surrounding trailers. For now they're only nameless faces, people who go to work and mind their business. Sometimes, like today, you like to sit on the front steps of your porch, drinking a piping hot cup of coffee, and just watch them as they go about their day.

You like to imagine what they do for living, what their names are, and what their story is. This has become your entertainment, the highlight of your day before you go back inside all by yourself. It's scary moving to a new place, meeting new people, and trying to make friends. As of right now, your only friend is the lady at the supermarket, Suze. Besides the people watching, hearing Suze say "Have a good day, dear" have become the highlight of your life.

It's not that you don't want to be social, you just don't know where to start. You're awkward, even back home it was hard to find the right social circle. So the safety of your trailer, the comfort of your four walls, and your once a week interaction with Suze the cashier was enough for you.

Lifting your Snoopy mug to your lips, you let the warm liquid coat your throat and fill you with warmth that the fall air seems to lack. The small gravel path lays still, everyone seemingly already off to work or school. Since you missed your morning entertainment, you stick to keeping your eyes on the sky and letting the comforting silence fall around you.

Meow.

You don't move your gaze, rather shutting your eyes and letting the small breeze move past you.

Meow.

Cracking an eye open, you gaze around the small area of the road in hopes of finding the animal making noise, hoping you're not going stir crazy with your lack of human interaction.

Meow.

Meow.

Meow.

You're neck snaps back and forth, trying to look around the general area for whatever kitty that is trying to communicate with you. It's high grass on the one side and an empty dirt path on the other, no sign of life in sight. Yup, you've seemingly have lost all of your marbles.

Meow.

The feeling of something brushing your leg startles you, but not enough to scare the chubby black cat, who purrs against your plaid pj bottoms, away. When it turns it's green eyes to you, it meows once more.

"Hi little guy," You coo softly at the animal, placing a hand out tentatively for it to sniff, "whatcha doin' out here in the cold?"

Leaning it's hand onto the tips of your fingers, you get the hint and start scratching lightly on it's head.

"Aren't you cold out here, honey?" You question and it only responds by lifting its chin. You oblige and rub along it's next causing the cat's eyes to close in enjoyment.

"You were just talkin' earlier, now you don't want to, huh? Not when you're gettin' all this love." Your voice is baby like, lips perched just a bit as you move your fingers to the tips of it's ears.

Quickly the cat moves away from your touch and looks at you wide eyed and curious like. Not wanting to scare it away just yet, you lightly tap your lap, beckoning it to move closer to you.

Surprisingly the cat listens, trotting up the two steps and curls itself into you. The purrs that carry through it's body settles into you and brings you a kind of warmth no hot temperature could ever do.

With the chunky fur ball nestled on your thighs you feel wanted, excepted for the first time since you moved here. The loneliness that you've felt, encaged into the tin walls of your trailer, suddenly evaporates with the simple presence of the animal.

"Do you have a name, little guy?" Speaking softly to the comfy cat, you hesitantly run a finger along it's neck in search for a collar.

With no collar or any sort of tag to tell you the cat is someone else's, you begin to check for other things without disturbing it. The black fur is soft in your fingers and lacks any sort of dirt buildup, no signs of fleas, and the fact that it seems like it's well fed point to it being a house cat.

Checking your surroundings, you try to see if anyone is out looking for their lost animal. No other porch in eyeshot is occupied, only the empty street and the quiet noise of bare trees rustling.

"Well, you don't seem to belong to anyone," It's as soft as the wind that flows through the grass, "You can live with me. Would you like that?"

Meow.

The cat nudges it's head further into the plush of your thighs and you take that as your answer. "Yeah, I'd like that too. How do you feel about the name Ozzy?"

The question doesn't seem to spark any sort of reaction from the cat, still cuddled up against you and purring in satisfaction.

"Okay then, Ozzy, do you wanna come in and have a treat?" Your finger continues to brush through the short hair of the cat, raking over the spots it can't reach on it's own.

Letting Ozzy lay on you for a moment more, you go to pick up your coffee mug hoping that the brown liquid inside is still somewhat warm. With the slightest move of your arm, Ozzy wakes up and stretches.

Before you can offer the warmth of your trailer, Ozzy is off of you lap and trotting down the steps. It's desperate and selfish but you're not about to lose your first friend, so you follow after it in the hopes you can scoop it up and take it home.

"Ozzy, come on don't you want some tuna?" Even with the promise of an appetizing bowl of breakfast, the cat continues to make it's way across the dirt path street.

When Ozzy makes it to the trailer cat corner to yours, it trots up the steps and settles on the small porch. Blinking slowly at you, it continues to stare at you and your efforts of trying to capture it without trespassing.

"Come on Ozzy, I'll take you home and you can eat. Maybe later we can take a trip to the store for some toys! What do you say, Oz?" As you stretch your arm out to the animal, a gruff voice stops you in your tracks.

"May I ask why you're trying to kidnap my cat?" Trailing your eyes to the side porch, you take in the shape of the person sitting on the couch.

Covered by the shadow of the awning, you can't really make out the stranger. You've been caught red handed, mouth agape and wide eyed with your arm still frozen in it's outstretched position.

"I-I, um I wasn't trying to kidnap your cat. I just, he came up-"

"It's a she and her name is pumpkin." The gruff voice cuts you off, semi annoyed and frustrated.

"Sorry, I didn't know." Like a child who's been reprimanded, you pull your arm back to it's place, lacing your fingers together in front of you where they twiddled in anxiety.

"I know, I was just fucking with you." The shadow figure stands from it's sitting position and walks over to you, jumping down the small ledge of the side porch.

As he stalks over to you, you drink up his features. In sweatpants that hang low on his hips and a too small of a hoodie that reads "Hawkins High Phys Ed.", he looks pretty. Wild brown curls blow lightly in the wind, lips puffy, and eyes so brown it feels like you're drowning in chocolate.

Standing toe to toe, you realize just how much taller he is than you. Slim and fit is the best way you can describe it, and boy is he breathtaking. His scent picks up with the breeze, swirling around you and making it's way into your nose were it lingers. Coffee, smoke, and laundry soap.

"I'm assuming you're the new neighbor down in trailer 48." It's not really a question rather a statement when he says it.

Nodding your head slightly, you gaze up at him still in awe. "Yeah, that would ugh, that would be me." Trying to cover up your nerves you throw him a tight lipped smile.

Nodding his own head, he slips his hands into the pouch of his hoodie. "Well, I'm Eddie and you already seem to have met pumpkin."

"Nice to meet you Eddie," Unlocking your still laced fingers, you throw him a small wave, even though he's right in front of you and tell him your name.

"Well it's lovely to meet you." His smile is just as pretty as the rest of him, nice white teeth that shine brighter than any sunrise you've ever seen.

"I'm sorry about your cat," It comes out rather awkward and abrupt, "she came over to me and I didn't think she belonged to anyone, I swear. I- well honestly, she's kind of like my first friend here and I wasn't about to let her go that easy."

Shame burns within you, as well as embarrassment. The shame of trying to take someone else's cat and the embarrassment of admitting you have no friends. You want the ground to shallow you whole, hide so far in the ground the cute boy next door will forget all about you and your inability to act like a normal human.

"Hey, don't worry I was just messin'. Plus she's like my only friend too, so I totally get it." Whether he's lying or not doesn't matter to you, in fact you laugh along with him when he speaks.

"To be fair, they're kind of pretty," Still smiling, he focuses on Pumpkin who sits contently on the step waiting to go in.

"Yeah, she really is. Sweet too." You agree, also looking at the cat you befriended just moments before.

"Oh, I wasn't talking about the cat," He says and you look back at him confused, "I mean she is definitely pretty, in fact she gets it from her dad. But I ugh, I was talking about you."

Pink paints the apples of his cheeks and you're certain that it's not from the bitter chill.

Your own stomach jumps and flips, butterflies tripling as his eyes burn into you.

"Oh." It's all you can muster, at least verbally, your face on the other hand tells him everything he needs to know.

Eyes shining and a smile threating to pull on your lips, even with the extra help that tries to hold it in place.

"Yeah." His own smile spreads bigger and you want to take a picture of it. You want to memorize every single detail of him so when you go back to your mundane four walls, you'll have something to feed your aching, lonely heart.

"Well if you want, I have a pot of coffee and a pack of Oreos back at my place. You and Ozzy, I mean Pumpkin are more than welcome." Looking up at him from under your lashes you see that his expression changed. Dimples and canines more prominent than before.

"Only on one condition." He says, crossing his hands over his chest and leaning towards you. "Do you have any cool mugs?"

"I have a cool Garfield mug." You shrug your shoulders.

Eddie ponders for a second like he's really taking the time to think it over. "I think, you have yourself a deal." Placing a hand in front of you, you clasp it in your own and shake it, letting the feeling of him sink into your skin.

Pulling his hand away from yours, he calls Pumpkin and pats his thigh. Getting up from her spot, she circles through his slipper covered feet. The two of you make your way back to your trailer, comfortable silence settling over the two of you.

"I do have one question." Looking over at Eddie, you raise your eyebrows telling him to continue. "Why Ozzy?"

Chuckling softly, you shrug your shoulders once again. "Well she's a black cat and she kind of reminds me of a bat. Bats just happen to remind me of Ozzy Osbourne, ya know cause the whole bat on stage thing."

You cut yourself off when you realize the boy next to you stopped dead in his tracks, along with the black cat.

"You know Ozzy?" He gasps, hand to his chest like you've just struck him with a sharp object.

"Who doesn't know Ozzy?" You scoff, eyebrows pinching together in bewilderment.

After what a long pause, Eddie stops clutching his chest and beams happily at you.

"Yeah, we're gonna be best friends." It's soft and sincere, hitting you right in the heart, lighting it with a million twinkling lights.

"Come on neighbor, I was promised Oreos." Picking his pace back up, he bops you on the nose with his finger before continuing his journey to your home.

Maybe Hawkins wasn't as lonely after all, you just needed to be patient.

Thank you all for reading! I love you guys <3

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[leclsrc]

Hi! I just found your blog and am in LOVE! Congrats on 2000 followers by the way! You deserve them all and more, I'm a new follower so you're over 2000 now hehe~ Could I please request the 'hugs from behind' prompt with Charles Leclerc? It sounds so cute! I hope you're doing okay. Congratulations again! 😘❤️❤️

olive you – cl16

genre: fluff, 2k celebration, olive theory drabble

auds here... finishing out my drafts from the 2k celebration... i have like 65 more i have to filter thru lol... love u guys

Waves crash softly against the pebbly shore, salt filling your nose as you twirl pasta onto your fork. There is something so enchanting about Italy, something so romantic and unbridled, that keeps you alive and happy whenever you visit. Perhaps it’s the food, the locals, the souvenir shops, the signs reading alla spiaggia right by the summery coast.

You chew on your fettuccine, and watch as a fork slowly deposits olive segments onto your plate. Perhaps, then, it’s none of those things. Perhaps it’s him. “Mmm. Grazie,” you hum gratefully, mixing the olives into your pasta.

Like many routines, this came to fruition with years of habit. On your first date, at an Italian place in Monte Carlo, you’d gushed about how much you liked to eat olives. Charles had done the complete opposite—he couldn’t stand them, he droned. Not in pasta, not in martinis, not anywhere. So it came to be that he would buy you jars of olives or give you the little bits he found on his plate.

It wasn’t a big deal to either of you at first, but your friends thought it was just about the cutest idea in the world, the pinnacle of the opposites attract concept, the perfect balance. And every time you get together they ask Charles if he likes olives, and each time, he kisses your hair and murmurs never.

He loves to kiss your hair, your legs. Nobody has ever come that close, you tell him every time. Only the air, only the water, only my spritzes of perfume. Nobody.

—

“Martini?” Carlos asks.

“Oh, I—” Charles smiles dopily, shaking his head. “Olives, I don’t like them.”

“Took a shot with the order. Sorry, mate.” They shake hands, wait for the meeting to start, make small talk about work and the off season. Being back at Fiorano always gives Charles a daunting kind of feeling, one that typically quells once he catches sight of you. Carlos pauses, takes a sip from his cold drink, then, “Are you sure you don’t like olives?”

Being a relatively new close friend means Carlos hasn’t yet been privy to the olive theory that’s spanned years and continents. Charles nods, opening his mouth to explain why, and why this fact matters so much, then—

“When we got a 1-2 in Bahrain last year,” his teammate starts, “and we all got drunk, Isa didn’t let me have alcohol because she didn’t want to drive me home.” He laughs. “Anyway, I saw you eating olives. You had a little toothpick thing, picking out olives from the aperitivo.”

Charles’ heart pounds. “Huh? Well… I guess I wouldn’t… mind them.”

“Eugh.” Carlos grimaces. “Olives are shit. Isa thinks so, too.”

—

You’re busy at the stove cooking a half-assed meal when he wrestles himself through the flat entrance, following the smell of garlic and approaching you instantly from behind. His hug is intense, his lips latched onto your neck. He inhales your scent, comforted by the traces of your perfume, his own scent lingering on his polo that hugs your body.

“Don’t be mad,” he says thinly, half-muffled.

“I told you don’t get a tattoo of my face across your arm.”

“It’s not that,” he says, resigned. He pouts, and you turn to comfort him, fluffing his hair up. A rogue strand falls in front of his face and when you lean closer to brush it away, he takes the chance to kiss you.

You smile while you kiss. Whaaat? You ask into his lips, amused by his silence and shyness. He still is quiet, lips just resting on yours. You pull away, a bit more worried now.

“Charles.” Your hands find purchase on his arms, shoulders, then his face in your grip. He holds your hands there.

“I…” He pauses. “I think I—I like olives.”

You relax, and the smile that arrives at your lips is purely involuntary. You can’t help it. “So we both like them,” you say simply, with a smile. “We’ll have to work out a system where you don’t steal all my jars from me.”

What your goof boyfriend fails to realize, you think as he bends over the stove and helps you finish off the pasta (extra olives, this time) is the olive theory has never mattered to you. It was never about the olives. It was never about the jars.

If love was about anything—it’d always, always be Charles.

[lovelytsunoda]

november rain // lance stroll

when I look into your eyes, i can see a love restrained but darlin' when I hold you, don't you know I feel the same? (..) if we could take the time to lay it on the line, i could rest my head just knowin' that you were mine, all mine so if you want to love me then darlin' don't refrain, or I'll just end up walkin' in the cold november rain

summary: after four long years and one pandemic cancellation, it's finally time for y/n and lance to return home to mount tremblant and tie the knot.

pairing: lance stroll x newlywed! reader

warnings: co*kwarming, so much implied smut and sexual innuendo and i'm not sorry, weddings, they are so painfully in love it is sickening. a dad who doesn't quite get the jewish traditions but is doing his best. also i googled a lot of the jewish wedding traditions so im not sure they're 100% completely accurate tbh

inspo: wedding dress, lance's suit, welcome sign, the arch, getaway car

ten months to the wedding.

it was a calm, quiet afternoon in the ranch house. lance was asleep, desperate for a nap after his afternoon cardio session with his trainers, and y/n was in her home office, laptop out in front of her as her manicured fingers dragged tabs around the homescreen, a pinterest board full of white dresses open on her phone. the couple's two year old golden retriever was sitting under the desk, resting his head against her lap.

"you're going to be the best ring bearer, aren't you, boy?" she giggled to herself, carding her fingers through whistler's fur as she looked back at the wedding blog open on her screen. whistler licked her fingertips, almost as if the dog was agreeing with her.

15 jewish wedding traditions you should know about.

"hey, baby." lance spoke softly, rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he ambled into the office, hair messy and shirt wrinkled from his nap. "what are you up to?"

"just some wedding stuff." she replied, getting up from her desk chair to wrap her arms around her lover, whistler padding along beside her as lance reached down to scratch the dog behind the ears.

"are you looking up jewish weddings?" lance asked, lips against the crown of her head. "baby, you don't have to go out of your way for me."

"i want to, lance. this is your ceremony too, and it means something to me that you feel as if your faith is being represented here as well. as long as i get to wear my white dress and pick the song i walk down the aisle to, i'm not picky about anything else."

"as long as you're happy." lance smiled, leaning down to kiss her, fingers lacing with hers as their lips danced gently together. "have you picked a song yet."

y/n groaned, tipping her head back. "you're going to laugh at me."

lance laughed. "no, i'm not! just tell me, darling."

"well, i wanted to walk down the aisle to 'november rain'. it just has a lot of special meaning for me. it's one of the songs that made me believe in love." she admitted, meeting lance's eyes.

"if november rain is what you want, that's what we'll play. have you picked a dress?"

y/n grinned, nuzzling further into lance's chest. "a few contenders have emerged. but it's bad luck to see the dress before the wedding!"

laughing, lance swept y/n off her feet, carrying her towards the bedroom with whistler at his heels. "come on, you really don't believe in that."

"so what if i do?" she smiled, cradling his face with the hand sporting her stunning diamond ring as she placed her on the king sized bed.

"then i guess i'm just going to have to keep fantasizing about that tight white fabric, hugging all the right places." lance teased, his lips grazing the skin on her neck.

"you do that, loverboy. because you don't get to see my dress until i'm coming down that aisle."

"and then i get to take it off you, right?" lance smirked, kissing her on the forehead. "because god, i have had thoughts about what we're going to do that night."

the bed dipped next to them, whistler's wet nose nudging at y/n's nose as she burst out into giggles, lance groaning as he flopped down on the bed, carding his fingers through whistler's fur.

"whistler, my guy, you don't need to be such a cockblock." lance laughed, patting the dog's side.

"baby, this is what you signed up for when we adopted him. you've had two years to get used to this." y/n giggled in turn, gently shooing the dog off of her bed.

"whistler, c'mere buddy." lance clapped his hands and signaled for the dog, lumbering clumsily off the bed. "i just want twenty minutes of alone time, buddy. go play with your raccoon toy."

he continued to attempt to bride the dog as he guided whistler out of the room, gently closing the door as the golden retriever left with his stuffed toy.

"twenty minutes, huh?" y/n joked, taking off her shirt. "you really think you're that good?"

"baby, please. you know that i can have you screaming my name in ten." lance's voice was husky as he leaned over her, pressing her body back against the pillows.

he kissed her deeply, running his tongue along the seam of her mouth as she moaned into his touch, bucking her hips up into his, feeling his erection grow inside his jeans.

"i love you." he said softly, his hands caressing her bare sides. "i can't wait to get married."

five months before the wedding.

"ladies, i think i've found the dress!" y/n giggled, pushing through the dressing room curtains and performing a little spin, the white satin fabric swirling around her bare legs. "this is the one."

"babes, you look stunning!" christa, her high school best friend and maid of honor cheered, raising her champagne glass. christa and her boyfriend bruce had gotten married during the pandemic, much to the disapproval of her greek family, who were expecting a large, flamboyant wedding.

as the wedding seemed to approach faster and faster, y/n and lance had both decided to go shopping for big day outfits on the same day. y/n, however, was pretty sure that lance only came up with that plan because he wanted to sneak a peak at his bride before the big day (and to grab more material of the love of his life for his spank bank while he was at it).

the dress would need a few alterations, currently pinned to her body with wooden clothespins, but when she looked at herself in the mirror, cream fabric hugging her body, the large slit up the side of the dress, she knew that this was the dress she was going to get married in.

"bestie, your phone is ringing." helena, her college roommate, shouted from the sitting room where they had all left their bags. "i think it's loverboy!"

y/n laughed, extending her hand. "bring the phone here, hell."

lancey💍would like to facetime.

chuckling to herself, y/n flicked to a regular phone call and ducked back into the changeroom. outside, helena and christa exchanged looks.

"were you trying to steal a look at me in my dress?" y/n laughed, sitting down on the fitting room's ottoman. "baby, i thought you were smarter than that."

"i hoped you wouldn't realize it was a facetime call at first. not even a peek?" lance asked hopefully.

"not a chance. i think i've found the one, though. it's cream coloured, and tight fitting, contoured to all the best spots." she said with a smile, knowing that lance would be working himself up on the other end of the line. "off the shoulder with a big slit going up the leg."

lance exhaled, and she could just picture the blush rising in his cheeks. "and i don't even get a look with a visual like that? come on now baby, that's just cruel."

"how goes the suit shopping."

"so, it turns out that pastels are on trend this year and i don't know how i feel about that. i had mick take some pictures for me, i'm sending them through now. unlike you, i actually want my spouse's opinion." lance said teasingly. "i'm leaning towards the mint green, team spirit and all, but let me know what you think."

her phone buzzed in her hand, seven pictures taken by mick schumacher sliding into her inbox. she smiled to herself as she flicked through, looking at her fiancé's dorky poses and looks of pure disgust at the mustard yellow suit esteban had insisted he try on.

"you're right, go with the mint green. it goes with the theme, too."

she could practically hear the smile on lance's face as he responded. "i thought you'd say that. right, if we've both got things picked out, i take it you'll be home soon?"

"an hour, maybe an hour and a half. i still have to buy the wedding lingerie as well, you know."

"oh, baby, don't say that when i'm out with my friends." lance groaned. "now i'm hard in a suit that's not mine."

y/n couldn't stop herself from laughing at that one as she took a sip of the champagne. "that's your own fault. so i take it you don't want me to ask what kind of lingerie you want me to buy?"

"something white, lacy and expensive. my dad is paying for half of the wedding, so money is no issue, babes. really, i want you to treat yourself. i know the wedding has been stressing you out lately."

"you try planning the happiest day of your life." y/n chuckled. "i can't wait to get home, if i'm being honest. as great as looking for dresses has been, this morning has been exhausting."

"i'll run a warm bath for you, order takeout from that place on main that you like. i think i know just how to ease those nerves of yours." lance suggested, a seductive tone in his voice that had y/n biting her lip.

"that plan wouldn't happen to involve cotton sheets and bath and body works lotion, would it?" she teased, knowing that every long, erotic night with her fiancé usually started with a massage and ended with a few orgasms.

"uh, yeah, of course it does. how else am i going to get rid of this little problem? seriously, babe, i am out in public."

"what are you going to do about it, big boy? spank me?" she joked, having fun imagining just how red her lover probably was right now.

"i haven't made up my mind yet, pretty girl." lance teased. "maybe i will, maybe i won't. you'll just have to wait and see, yeah?"

"i look forward to it. i've gotta go if i want to be done shopping by dinner. i love you, lance."

"love you more, y/n. see you when you get home."

the night before the wedding.

it was just after midnight when y/n slipped out of her hotel room, forgoing shoes as her mismatched socks padded along the hotel carpet. helena and christa were fast asleep, and y/n found herself tossing and turning as her separation anxiety kicked in.

she counted room numbers in her head before she stopped and knocked gently on the door, hands in the back pockets of her jeans as she waited for the door to open.

“you just couldn’t stay away, could you?” lance stroll joked, opening the hotel room door. he was wearing nothing on his top half, his lower body covered in nothing but a pair of montreal canadiens flannel pants.

part of him had known that y/n would find her way back to him before the wedding started. she never had been great at being on her own.

“we both know im not as tough as I pretend to be.” she quipped back, wrapping her arms around her husband-to-be. “I missed you.”

lance smiled against her skin as he placed a gentle kiss on her neck. “come inside, pretty girl. let me run a bath. the bathroom window has a great view of the city.”

y/n closed the door behind her as the couple made their way to the large bathroom, lance filling the large jacuzzi tub with warm, bubbly water as his fiancée undressed. she slipped into the bath alongside her lover, humming in contentment at the feeling of lances body against hers.

“you couldn’t sleep either?” y/n asked, sighing into his arms as lance put his arms around her torso, gently kissing her cheek.

“nah, I was watching the game. its not the same trying to fall asleep without you.”

“now who’s the cheesy one?” she giggled, splashing her lover as he moved his hands, beginning to massage her shoulders softly. “I love you.”

“love you more.” lance hummed as he kissed the back of her head. “how’d you get out of your room anyways? I thought the bridal guard would have you on lockdown. for the sake of tradition, and all that shit.”

“theyre asleep. I snuck out, used pillows to make it look like i was still in my bed. how was the bachelor party?”

lance laughed, pulling his fiancée closer. “I dont know if you could call the hockey hall of fame and whalburgers a bachelor party, but I had a good time.”

“you got a weekend in toronto and all I got was pottery painting and mocktails?” y/n joked, her hand trailing up lances thigh. “im glad you had a good time. I did too.”

with her back pressed up against his chest, y/n dragged her hand further up his thigh and upwards towards his member, wrapping her nimble fingers around his shaft.

“baby, not right now." lance whispered, concern in his tone as he unwrapped his arms from the woman in front of him "what’s bothering you, pretty girl? you get needy like this when something is getting to you and you don't know how to say it out loud.”

she sighed, retracting her hand and linking her fingers with his. “i'm just nervous about tomorrow. scared, I think.”

lance's expression softened. he shifted in the tub, trying to turn y/ns body so that they were sitting across from each other, both her hands in his.

“its not too late to elope if you dont want to do this anymore, love. I can call chloe and she can drive us down to city hall. just the two of us, no stress, no fuss. I just want you to be happy, y/n.”

"no, lance. everybody is already here and i've been dreaming of this moment since i was thirteen. i want to do this. it just scares the shit out of me. it's like when i slept with you for the first time, you have to remember that."

lance laughed, using one damp hand to rake his hair back. "if anything, i was more nervous than you were. because i knew that if i fucked that up, i could have lost you for good. i swear, i would have given up on sex if you never felt comfortable enough with me to do it, i just knew i wanted you in my life."

"and now look at us." y/n hummed, kissing lance's knuckles. "i'm just scared that something is going to go really really wrong tomorrow."

"listen to me baby, here's what's going to happen. you are going to walk down that aisle tomorrow in your gorgeous dress with your parents on either side of you, and 'november rain' playing in the background, and i promise that i will be waiting for you at the altar. i'll also probably be crying from how stunning you look and how surreal this moment is, but i will be right next to you the entire time, okay?"

"promise me you aren't going anywhere?"

"i promise." lance said, leaning over to kiss her before stepping out of the tub and wrapping his well-built frame in a plush hotel towel. he extended a hand for his lover, lifting her out of the tub bridal-style. "now, you and me are going to curl up in bed, watch the last two episodes of 'the night agent', and not think about anything wedding related."

y/n smiled, feet firmly back on the ground before she raised her arms and allowed her fiancé to wrap the towel around her body. "i like that idea."

dried off and wrapped in a silk hotel bathrobe, y/n curled up underneath the comforter. she gently swept her hand across the bed spread to flick off the crumbs, frowning at lance as he redressed in his hockey flannels and joined her in bed.

"i leave you alone for one night and your bed is filled with crumbs?"

"sorry," lance shrugged, a small blush on his cheeks. "force of habit. can't watch the game without a bag of miss vickie's."

rolling her eyes, y/n reached for his laptop, waking up the dark screen before closing the tsn app and opening netflix.

"baby, your skin is freezing." lance remarked, pressing soft kisses to the skin on her shoulders. "look, you've got goosebumps. do you want me to turn down the air con?"

with a cheeky look on her face, y/n turned to look at him. "i can think of another, much more fun way to get warmer."

"oh, you want me to warm you up with my cock, is that it?" lance hummed, gently slipping a hand underneath the hem of the white robe. "baby, if you let me have my way with you tonight, you won't be able to walk down that aisle tomorrow."

"we don't have to do anything. i just want to feel you."

and how could lance say no when she asked with those eyes, with that voice? she hummed in content as he slipped inside her glistening folds, readjusting the blankets around their conjoined bodies as she pressed play on the next episode.

"i love you, lancelot." she hummed, turning her head to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. "i can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

"i love you too, y/n. now, get some rest, darling. if you fall asleep, i'll stop the episode so you don't miss anything, yeah?"

the wedding.

"ladies, i'm going to be real with you, i'm scared out of my mind." y/n laughed nervously, smoothing out the front of her dress while christa fussed with her hair.

christa and helena were not fools: they knew that y/n had snuck out of her hotel room to meet up with lance, but neither of them could fault her for that. christa knew firsthand that y/n had been so scared that she would never fall in love, never have her moment in a white dress, and she wasn't going to stop y/n from being with lance, even if it was just for a night.

that being said, nerves were high on the morning of the wedding, and y/n had to be talked down more than once so that she would be ready to walk down the aisle.

and now that moment was finally here. she walked out of the dressing room to meet with her parents, who would be walking down the aisle with her, as per jewish tradition. lance had gone down the aisle moments earlier with claire-ann and lawrence beside him.

"you're going to do just great, kiddo." y/n father said, pulling her in for a hug. "but remind me what i'm supposed to do once i get up there."

"you're going to stand across from lawrence, diagonally from claire-ann in place of the bridal party. all you have to is stand there, and once the rabbi has said 'you may kiss the bride', shout 'mazel tov' with everybody else."

mr. y/l/n nodded, gripping his daughter's hand. "i'm so proud of you, honey. you picked a good man, and i love that he makes you so so happy."

the bars to 'november rain' began to play, and y/n took a deep breath before she walked into the banquet hall with her parents. her hands were shaking, and she tried not to look around and notice how many people were in the room.

she would celebrate with them all later.

she tried not to think about anything as she stepped up the small wooden stairs (not many steps, just three) to the altar. lance stood underneath the arch of roses (they'd decided against the traditional jewish canopy, but would have their parents stand at the four corners in principle), looking dashing in his mint green suit. he was restless, messing with the white rose on his lapel before wiping at his eye.

"were you crying?" y/n giggled quietly, reaching for her husband's hand

"what, no." lance laughed. "there's gotta be some pollen in here or something."

"good, because if you cry, i'll cry."

weeks, even months later, if you had asked y/n what the rabbi had said during the ceremony, she probably wouldn't have been able to tell you, even though the entire thing had been videotaped for the happy couple. the entire world narrowed down to that altar, to her and lance.

the love of her life.

"i now pronounce you husband and wife."

"mazel tov!"

"too soon, dad!"

"sorry love, carry on!"

TAGS:

@starsanova @magnummagnussen @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @daydreamingleclerc @libraryofloveletters

[thelightsandtheroses]

and my soul has changed, and my heart

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Drabble Summary: Joel and Tommy catch up on patrol after word of Joel's date with you spreads around Jackson. Word Count: 1245 Drabble Warnings: mentions of past child death (Sarah) and grief, 18+ blog MDNI Notes: I'm here with another Joel POV drabble! Thank you so much for your patience with this update, I am partway through chapter four so hope to update that shortly. The title for this drabble is from the song Orange Juice by Noah Kahan

Previous | Series | Next

The patrol route is quiet. There’s not a sign of infected or people around. Joel rests the back of his head against the tree he’s leaning against, watching Old Beardy drink from the nearby stream.

Joel can’t quite stop that alertness, the background wariness in case of something changing. It’s not a curse, it’s kept him alive this long.

It’s peaceful though. The area is illuminated by dappled sunlight between the trees hitting the water, the sounds of water babbling over the rocks and nature around are inescapable - you could forget about the world for a moment here.

Joel remembers how Ellie had taken everything in with such childlike wonder when they’d left Boston, how a world he’d known and taken for granted had seemed so new to her. He hadn’t wanted to let her in there, wanted to define her as cargo, as the reason Tess was gone, as a means to an end.

He was different then.

Joel allows himself one more moment of reverie before he focuses again.  He feels the familiar pang in his chest as he realises Sarah would have loved it here, would have been scrabbling up the nearby rocks. For just a moment he’s back in Texas, hiking with her on a weekend and nothing’s changed, nothing’s happened. He can almost see her, but he’s afraid to encourage that, too many nightmares start that way and end with her bleeding out in his arms.

Joel shakes his head, makes his way over to Old Beardy, runs his hands on the horse’s neck.

“I reckon we should make our way back now,” he says calmly.

“Yeah.” Tommy doesn’t move though; he stands there looking at Joel with a growing smirk on his lips. “So,” Tommy starts and Joel realises exactly what this is.

He’s unknowingly walked right into his brother’s set up here - patrol, getting out of Jackson.

“Just get it out your system, Tommy, ” Joel deadpans, arms folded. He should have known going to the Tipsy Bison, having a date in Jackson, would spread around town faster than a virus.

“I’m happy for you, Joel. The idea of you and Ellie putting roots down here, building a life, that’s - that’s what it was all about right? What you told me about why you -” Tommy breaks off.

They don’t talk about it.

They don’t talk about the secret Joel told Tommy only days ago on a patrol. He had to tell Tommy, had to tell someone. Tommy understood. He was worried about that, especially with the baby - he wondered if Tommy would ever forgive him for that, for condemning his niece to a world without a cure. Or maybe it’s because of her that Tommy gets it.

“I have one drink with someone and -”

“Small towns, man.”

“Didn’t miss that.”

“Nope. You’ll get used to it. She’s friends with Maria, you know?”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Joel pauses. “She’s … I don’t know, Tommy. I thought after - after Tess, after everything that was all gone for me.” He’d resigned himself to what his life could be - one better than he had expected over the past twenty years, but he hadn’t seen you in his horizon, hadn’t thought there could be a you.

“Fate works in funny ways, I guess.” Tommy pauses and looks at Joel quizzically. “I can see it, y’know.”

“See what?”

Tommy laughs. Sometimes it surprises Joel -  how easy his brother seems to live now and how foreign the sound of his laugh had become to him too. Getting to Boston, surviving those years … there wasn’t much humour. There was always laughter in the house before.

He can hear Sarah’s laugh faintly even now. The way she’d almost fold herself up with laughter sometimes, shaking her head furiously.

Since Ellie, since everything over the last year, it’s like he’s bleeding Sarah everywhere.

Every memory he’d boxed up and hidden away is here now, out in the open and sometimes they feel less like a knife, or shiv, in the gut and sometimes the loss is as raw as it was the day his world fell apart. There’s always a dull ache though. That will never fade.

You’re not supposed to have to bury your kid.

He tries to shake the memory away, to bring himself back to now and this moment.

Joel’s here. He has his brother and Ellie and these delicate tendrils of a future again - Jackson, you, a chance. He’ll take that.

“So, I’ve got to ask, brother, how did you even get talking to her?”

“You sayin’ she’s out of my league?” You are, he thinks, you’re different to him, if you knew what he’s done … would you let him sit with you at night? Would you have kissed him on your porch?

Would you get it? You’re a parent, maybe you would. Or maybe you wouldn’t.

“I didn’t say that,” Tommy says, “Just she usually keeps to the library and her home mostly, and you’re not exactly a voracious reader.”

“Maybe I’ve changed.”

It’s not like Joel has ever hated reading; it’s just it’s not been a priority. Escaping into someone else’s story is a luxury when you’re fighting to make rent, to provide for the people you love. After the outbreak, it seemed fanciful, foolish even.

“Maybe you have,” Tommy says with a weight and stare that says more than his words.

Joel knows what Tommy thinks. He thinks he’s softened in age, with Ellie and Jackson. He isn’t the man of those nightmares anymore, not a hunter, not dangerous. He broke down in Jackson to his brother after all, bared his soul on his age, his deafness, his fears. He’d all but begged Tommy to take Ellie then. maybe it was about more than that - maybe he was just putting up barriers. He did it though.

Tommy’s wrong though. That man hasn’t vanished, that man hasn’t changed. He’s still there under the surface.

You can never fully exorcise those demons.

To live and survive in this world, you probably shouldn’t either.

“So, how did you get talking?” his brother asks, “How’d this start?”

Well, I met her on a bench in the middle of the night in some secret insomnia club we’ve created because hey, I’ve not slept properly in months, years even. No, Joel can’t say that to Tommy.

“We bumped into each other a few times, got to talking.”

“She seems nice, from when I’ve spoken to her and she’s been around with Maria. I can see you two gettin’ on. I mean I really thought you and Esther could have had something though -”

”She had a Victorian doll collection, Tommy. That shit was scary before the end of the world.”

“Yeah, but other than that.”

“I couldn’t get past the dolls, they were in her goddamn bedroom, staring at me …” Joel shudders at the memory. The cracked porcelain heads, faded fabrics and unblinking eyes staring at him when he didn’t want their attention. Esther was a lovely woman but there were over twenty of those dolls in her bedroom alone.

Maybe they helped her. But they sure didn’t help him.

“Okay, I get it, I get it. What if -”

“She won’t have a collection like that.” At least, Joel hopes you don’t.

“Here’s hoping. We should head on back now.”

Joel nods, shifts his backpack, and moves to get on Old Beardy.

He takes in the scene around him just a second longer.

Peace.

Maybe it’s not so far away.

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247 @joelsgreys @noisynightmarepoetry @pedrobaby @noisynightmarepoetry

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

[megamindsecretlair]

Aht aht aht. The vampire Tyrone said that the things he was gonna do to the reader was gonna make the devil jealous. I need details please, if you feel me!!!

A/N: Don't be quoting my fics back at me LOL. I'm gon take this lightly, but let's remember that I am not a smut machine. LOL

A Seduction at Midnight Chapter 3

Pairing: Vampire!Tyrone x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. FILTH. Use of n-word. Reader is tied up with cuffs, fingering (fem receiving), oral (fem receiving), PIV (unprotected), cursing, AU Tyrone, Toxic Tyrone. Dark fic. Dirty talk. One mention of spanking. Possession kink, pet names. Mentions of stalking and manipulation. blood, over stimulation, Mean-ish reader.

Summary: A chance meeting at a club introduced you to the enigmatic Tyrone. He was interesting in ways that you weren't expecting. After inviting you to a exclusive party at his place, Tyrone promises a night of pure carnal delights.

Word Count: 4,172k

Midnight Sin Masterlist

A/N: Okay, let's see what these crazy kids get up to! I guess, this is kind of OC? Is it OC if I invented a tiny backstory? I'm still getting the hang of fic writing. Since this taglist is getting so big, please give me a headcount of who still wants to be tagged for Vamp Tyrone or who only wants normal Tyrone. I don't tag ageless blogs. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! Ageless blogs get blocked.

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @sevikasblackgf @melaninpov @amyhennessyhouse @henneseyhoe @honeyoriginalz @justheretostan @black-fairy3 @superhoeva @jarfulloftears @hereformiles @montysstuffs @westside-rot @blackerthings @blowmymbackout @euphoric05 @miyuhpapayuh @nicolexnight @8ttached @judymfmoody @notapradagurl7 @wakandas-vibranium @soft-persephone @justabovewater20 @mcotton0928 @soapjay @heyauntieeee @theyscreamsannii @mybonafidefeelings @eggnox @honeytoffee @thadelightfulone @tranquilfandomer @kindofaintrovert @l-auteuse @browngirldominion @sunkissedebony97 @lovedlover @issahyland @nerdieforpedro @umber-cinders @longpause-awkwardsmile

Mistakes were made. Your wrists were tied and suspended above you on a chain you did not see when you first walked in. You knelt on the bed in a growing puddle of your own arousal, knees spread wide. You felt how wet you were. It leaked out of you, trailing down your thighs. 

You shook nearly in time with the grandfather clock. Each new chime was another hour passed while Tyrone played with you. Perhaps, you didn’t really know what you were signing up for. 

Tears sprung from your eyes. You sniffled. It was too much sensation, too many nerves, too much pleasure. He had not stopped after your previous orgasms for the audience. No, he kept going. Pushing you past your limits. 

“Still with me?” You turned to the sound of his voice but couldn’t see him. He had taken off your mask ages ago and replaced it with a blindfold. It was snug against your face, damp with your tears. 

“Yes,” you whispered. 

Tyrone trailed a feather against your skin and it was like he set you on fire. You hissed and jerked away from him, crying. The chain clinked loudly in your ear.

“Aw, don’t try to get away,” Tyrone said and chuckled. He leaned in and kissed your cheek. Even that shit was sensitive. 

“P-please,” you whispered. 

“Please what? Say it where I can hear you,” he said. 

You leaned your head against your raised arms. They were starting to hurt, but the last time you asked him to lower the chain, he fingered you until you came two more times. You couldn’t possibly have another one to give. 

The feather tickled your neck and you twisted, falling forward a bit. Tyrone caught you and righted you. But his grip was too much. You cried out and Tyrone shushed you.

“Shh, shh, where we at baby?” He asked.

“Y-yellow,” you said, cursing yourself. You should just end this. But you did not want this evening to end. For once, your brain shut off and Tyrone handled everything. The sounds he elicited from you were sinful. You didn’t know you could beg and scream and cry as often as you did tonight.

“Are you sure? You’re so messy,” he said slowly. His fingers grazed your pussy and you desperately clenched, needing to be filled. You moaned moving your hips forward, yearning for him to end your torment. 

“Hmm, you’re so wet,” he purred in your ear. “I bet I would have to fight to stay inside, huh?” Tyrone licked your neck. 

“No, no,” you said. If he’d just give you the dick, you would lock your legs around him and never let go. You licked your lips, still feeling a bit rubbed raw after the last time you sucked his dick. 

Tyrone kissed down your neck, around your shoulders, towards your chest. He palmed your breasts, rubbing them slowly and running his thumbs across your nipples. Your whole body shivered. 

You still felt his hands everywhere. Your body tingled from everything he had done to you tonight. Like phantom hands still massaged you, molded you, broke you in half like a pretzel. 

His mouth replaced his thumb. He latched his mouth to your left nipple, swirling his tongue around it. 

“S-shit,” you sniffled. You didn’t have enough air in your lungs to yell. He dipped his fingers into your pussy, pumping two long fingers in and out of you. 

“Got another one for me?” He asked. His breath fanned across your wet nipple and you moaned. 

“N-no,” you moaned. Hell, this couldn’t be real. You didn’t want to wake up if it wasn’t. He was ruining you for any other man. What human could compete with this level of stamina? Tyrone had sounded calm and collected all night. Except for when he was fucking your mouth. He never sounded more gorgeous than the few little “fucks” that kept escaping him. 

He flicked his tongue lazily against your nipple. Once he got it into a tight nub, he moved on to the right nipple. He paid just as much attention to that one as he still pumped his fingers.

It was as if with every plunge, he was calling your orgasm to the surface. Dragging it from the depths of hell itself to make you cum. “Oh fuck, p-please,” you cried. 

“C’mon and give it to me. I knew you had another one for me. With yo sexy ass. You’ve done so good for me tonight,” he whispered against your nipple. You cried out, nothing but the wisps of air you managed to keep escaping you. 

Pleasure wrapped around you and held on for dear life. You shook and jerked. Feeling squeezed tight and not tight enough. Tiny earthquakes were set off inside of you, each with its own aftershock of pleasure. Tears trailed down your cheeks.

Tyrone lifted his head from your chest. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. He took his fingers out of your pussy and spread your arousal around your lips. He shoved his fingers in, making you taste yourself again. He licked your tears away, from both cheeks, humming in pleasure.

“You’re gonna have to tell me when to stop. I can’t get enough of you,” he said. He kissed your cheek. He held his lips there in a sustained kiss and breathed you in. You knew he didn’t have to breathe, not really. He did it anyway, committing you to memory. The thought made your pussy throb. 

“I n-need…” You tried, but you couldn’t voice your thoughts. It had been too long since he entered you. Since he gave you what you wanted. What you truly wanted. You were trying to hold out but he was being incredibly stubborn about it.

Couldn’t vamps read minds? Weren’t they supposed to get super special powers to roll your mind, make you do things, or work some type of magic? You slunk down, wrenching your shoulders back too far, but you were close to passing out. 

“Tell me what you need,” Tyrone said. His voice was clear, deep, and intentionally seductive. He knew fuck well what he was doing. You supposed after centuries of sex, he should know what he was doing. But you were a mere mortal. He had to have some kind of mercy. 

“Please, fuck me,” you begged. 

Tyrone chuckled and cupped your face. He kissed you. His tongue rolled against yours and you moaned, sitting up straighter. Your thighs were starting to burn from this position. The metal clanked overhead. The grandfather clock tick, tick, ticked. You’d never be able to look at another clock the same way again. The mu’fucka ruined clocks for you too.

He slotted his lips against yours, languid as a fat cat on a summer’s day. He explored your mouth as if he were kissing you for the first time. His soft lips were their own sweet torture. 

“Hm, I need to taste you first. You made such a mess, I need to clean it up,” he said. You cried as he moved into position on his back. He pulled you closer, making you crawl on your knees. The chain rattled as it moved on the track, allowing you to push forward and sit on his face. You tried to stay on your knees, but he grabbed you by the thighs and pulled until you were seated.

He reminded you that he didn’t need to breathe as his tongue darted out to lick your pussy. You reared up but he pulled you back down. Your ass pushed against the heels of your feet. 

His grip turned bruising as he crushed you to his face and ate you out again, moaning at the taste of you. 

“So good,” you think he said. He sounded muffled. You bit your lip as your hips started to move of their own accord. Grinding down on his face. Oh, oh, yeah that felt so good. You moved your hips faster.

Tyrone stuck his tongue out and let you fuck yourself on it. You moaned as you rode him, taking your pleasure from him as if he were nothing but a toy. Nothing but a vibrator you were pleasuring yourself with. Your fingers tangled with the chains as you gripped them and rode his face harder. Fresh arousal leaked out of you, surely drowning him. 

“Right there, right there, rightthererightthererightthere,” you cried, your voice tinny.

You were caught between wanting to go faster and pushing him off altogether. You could not survive another orgasm. And yet, you were grinding on him anyway. Your pussy clenched and throbbed as your orgasm built, tightening your belly. At its peak, it erupted. 

You cried out as it swept through you. A volcano of pleasure that kept going and going, taking you to another plane of existence. 

You slumped against his face as he licked up everything you gushed out. You spasmed. The smell of sex was so thick in the air, you could probably cut it with a knife. “Such a good little girl,” he said against your thighs. He moved you easily as if you were as light as the feather he used earlier.

The praise made your spirit soar, even as your body was too tired. He got to his knees behind you. A moment later, the chains were starting to lower and you whimpered in relief. He kissed your neck and back and started to massage your shoulders. He whispered nasty things in your ear as his hands rubbed the dull, burning ache. 

“Better?” He asked.

“Unhuh,” you sighed.

“Where we at baby?” He asked.

You thought about it. If he teased you one more time, that was it, you were throwing in the towel. Stubbornly, you rallied the last remaining strength you had. “Yellow,” you said through clenched teeth. 

“Stubborn little thing, ain’t you?” He asked. 

“I was promised a night I’ll remember,” you said.

He chuckled and licked the shell of your ear. “Not enough for you? Complaining about my performance?” He asked.

“If I need to find someone else, let me know,” you said.

The sharp smack to your ass was unexpected and you gasped from the sheer force. The sting built in intensity until your ass was on fire.

“You can joke about a lot of things. That shit ain’t one of ‘em. Understand?” He asked.

Your head bobbled. 

“Use your words,” he said.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you squeaked. 

Since your arms were now lowered, he pushed you forward. You leaned on your elbows and brought your ass up. You weren’t moving fast enough. Tyrone grabbed your hips and pulled you backwards. 

He slammed inside of you. You were so wet that he slid in easily. You cried out as he fucked you with something to prove. Okay, you hit a fucking nerve. 

Your wrists were still tied. You held them in front of you, to keep the chain from knocking into your face. He fucked into you with reckless abandon. His fingers dug into your hips, slamming you back on his dick. 

You moaned and cried and whimpered as he finally gave you what you wanted. He filled you up. His thick dick was perfect, digging into your guts exactly in the way you needed. 

“No one else gets to touch you,” he growled. 

“Yes, Sir,” you said.

“No one,” he said. “No one.” It became a chant. Every thrust pushed you forward. Your ass slapped against his thighs. His balls tapped your clit. 

Your nails scraped against the bedsheet as he rutted inside of you. He was animalistic. Grunting and groaning. In between chanting, he’d pepper in curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, squeeze that shit,” he moaned.

You pushed back against him, and he increased his thrusts. His moans turned you on. Hearing that deep voice moaning activated a different side of to you. You threw it back on him. He growled as he slammed back. Gasps and yips escaped you. You couldn’t take a full breath. He fucked the orgasm out of you, wringing a loud, keening yowl from you. 

Your body jerked and twisted as your orgasm steamrolled you. Reality shifted and changed. You peeked into the fifth dimension, feeling at once above your body and in it. You pictured how you looked. Suppliant, on your knees, getting dicked down in the most primal way possible. 

“Oh fuck, baby. So good,” you moaned. 

As you floated back down, Tyrone roared and released a fat load inside of you. The hot spurts filled you up. He shuddered as he pushed forward to the hilt, moaning deep and low in his throat. 

“So beautiful. So good,” he whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the base of your spine. You tensed, ready for his fangs to sink in. He rubbed one side against your ass and chuckled. “No more bites tonight, love,” he promised. 

You pouted and whined. He placed another kiss there and slipped out of you when he softened. He untied the blindfold. 

The sudden light seared your eyes and you blinked through new tears. You looked towards him, eyes blurry, and found him looking down at you with so much emotion. Such pride. Such admiration. You smiled lazily at him and yawned. You still shook from little tremors after that last orgasm. 

He took the cuffs off of you, rubbing and massaging circulation back into your wrists. Warmth spread through your body as you stretched out, laying down fully on the bed. Sleep tugged heavily at you. You wanted to stay up and talk to him, but he kissed your forehead and told you to sleep. So sleep you did.

Tyrone

You were going to be the true death of him. You looked ruined. Your perfect body was curled on the bed, ass in the air and scrumptious enough to bite into. He almost did earlier, but it was your first time giving blood. He didn’t want to suck you dry.

Fuck, his dick twitched thinking of how good you tasted, in all aspects. Your blood was ambrosia. Straight from the heavens itself. It took every, single ounce of willpower to keep from killing you. And you poor thing. You had no clue. 

He should feel horrible about it. You were so full of life. Interesting and unique. He loved listening to you talk and learning how your mind worked. He would hate it if you were snuffed from this life.

But you had no clue how fucking delicious your blood was. And then when he tasted that sweet honey between your thighs, it was enough to drive him insane with lust. Tyrone could not remember the last person who drove him so crazy. He’d had his share of lovers over the centuries. When his loneliness was so loud, he’d do anything to steal the warmth from his partner. He’d agree to anything, kill anybody, if it meant that someone would wrap their hands around him in love rather than fear.

He looked at you, staring at your rolls and curves. He could keep going. You made him want to keep going. He wanted to mesh your bodies together and never leave your embrace. He wanted to twist you any which way he could. 

He needed a walk. Usually, he would kick out whoever he got done fucking. But you were different. He wanted to mold his body to yours and snuggle in close. But if he snuggled up with you right now, you wouldn’t ever be free to walk this earth again. This…possessiveness was starting to worry him. Slick Charles said as much as Tyrone spent nearly every night watching you in your house. 

He left the room, towards the en suite bathroom and warmed up a washcloth for you. He cleaned you up, gentle, but you were deeply asleep. He heard the thump of your heart as you slept. You made little whimpering noises.

He was jealous of your dreams. For a while, you were lost to him. He wanted more of it. More of you. You were so cute and trusting, sleeping next to a monster. So, he threw on his briefs and left the room altogether. He needed to be away, where your scent wasn’t wreaking havoc on his senses. 

Outside the room, the carnal sounds of fucking slammed into him. The smell of sex was potent. He walked down the hall where some people were fucking against the wall. He passed by people in various states of dress, masks on, dicks and pussies out. Some women were getting fucked, some men were getting pegged.

When he was younger, all of this still would’ve excited him. He still enjoyed watching sex, but his dick only stirred for you. He gritted his teeth as he passed through to one of the playrooms.

Four people were intertwined in a complicated dance on the large bed. Tyrone stopped for a moment, watching the foursome as everyone was getting off on someone else. Sex was fascinating to him. The way people contorted themselves into shapes just to get off. To reach that ultimate goal. Tyrone watched their faces. He watched how even though they selfishly sought their own pleasure, they were just as focused on their partner. On giving and taking. 

Tyrone moved on, passing by the playrooms and ensuring that everyone minded the rules. At the end of the hall, a lone figure leaned against the wall. The figure was fully dressed in slacks and a shirt one size too big. 

“Who are you?” Tyrone asked. He stopped walking forward. The figure was half in shadow. The figure turned his head, head dipping into one of the hall lights.

“Don’t you recognize your big brother?” 

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his head. “The fuck are you doing here, Fontaine?” 

Fontaine chuckled, his gold grills glinting in the light. Moans crescendoed all around but Tyrone tuned it out. Like turning down the sound on a stereo, the moans faded to the background. 

Rage replaced his earlier calm at seeing Fontaine. Smug mu’fucka. Fontaine removed himself from the wall, stalking towards Tyrone. He put his hands in his pockets and looked Tyrone up and down.

“Shit, Tyrone. You finally fuck that stick out ya ass?” Fontaine chuckled. “Who is she? She still around?” Fontaine looked behind Tyrone as if the person would be coming up behind them. Tyrone clenched his fists but kept a mask of amused indifference. 

“What are you doing here, ‘Taine?” 

Fontaine’s smile slipped. He shrugged. “Can’t just be because I miss you?” 

Tyrone reared back as if Fontaine had slapped him. It was uncanny, looking into the eyes of someone that fuckin’ looked like you. There was a disconnect between the mirror and this mirror-version of Tyrone. It was him but it wasn’t him. 

“Fuck no. What do you want?” On the inside, Tyrone was worried. He still didn’t know what you were or why your blood smelled so divine. It was a big risk bringing you here tonight, knowing that your blood might draw the others. But nothing happened when that first drop touched air…still, he wasn’t going to gamble that Fontaine’s keen sense of smell would find you. 

Tyrone barely held it together around you. Fontaine was a ripper, who enjoyed his food in all manners of ways. It would be nothing to snap your neck and drain you dry. 

Fontaine laughed and nodded. “I got some business here,” he said. 

“What business?” Tyrone asked.

“Mines, nigga,” Fontaine said. He laughed as he pushed past Tyrone, looking in and out of the playrooms. He stopped at one door and leaned on it, watching the couple as the man was getting spanked. 

“Father banished you–” 

“Father’s the one that called me back here,” Fontaine interrupted. He turned towards Tyrone and lifted an eyebrow. “Old man didn’t tell you?” 

“Nigga don’t say shit but bark mu’fuckin’ orders.” Tyrone walked away from the playrooms. He went upstairs, heading towards his office. Here, the place felt slightly more like him. This wasn’t his main residence. He didn’t want to sleep in the same house that his people did depraved things. 

Fontaine’s steps were quiet, but with his hearing, he knew Fontaine trailed behind him. The halls were painted light gray, soft wood underneath, and random sculptures and pieces of art along the end tables or on the walls. Paintings of himself were spread along the walls. He hated the idea. But Slick Charles told him that he needed to add some showmanship for the parties. Whatever.

He turned on the light to his office and walked inside. Fontaine slipped in behind him and closed the door. Tyrone flopped into his chair and rolled his neck. He just wanted to spend the night in between your legs. He knew the night was going too perfect. 

His office was like his others, painted in his favorite color, gray, with complimentary furniture. He had a few personal items there like his watch or keys, or sunglasses. Fontaine flopped into the chair opposite the large desk. He sneered at the decorative plants and art. 

“Corny ass mu’fucka,” Fontaine whispered.

“Why are you really here?” 

Fontaine shrugged. “Pops gettin’ paranoid or some shit. Or he want something. I’ve been getting word that he’s been lookin’ into my business overseas. I’m just here to see why he broke the agreement,” Fontaine explained. 

“Lookin’ into it how?” Tyrone asked.

Fontaine shrugged again. His gaze moved around the room. Tyrone watched him, looking at all the ways he changed in the hundred or so years since he last saw him. 

Fontaine had a scruffy beard now, with kinked hair sticking up every which way. The grill was obviously new. The canines were elongated, perfectly hiding his real fangs. It was clever. He could move around more freely, not afraid to laugh or speak. 

“Ion know yet. All I know is that he broke his side, so the terms is null. I’m taking myself off punishment, baby brother,” he said.

Tyrone chuckled. “That’s not the way that shit work,” he said. 

“Does now. Look. I came here as a muthafuckin’ courtesy. No disrespect shit. I’m not going to make noise. I just want to see what Pops knows and then I’ll be gone,” Fontaine said.

Tyrone looked at him over the desk. There was so much history there. History of running around together, chasing girls in skirts, and fuckin’ them ‘till the morning came. Of all the arguments and yelling at each other. Fontaine moving to Europe was the best decision ever. They needed that continent in between them. 

“How long?” 

“Ion know,” Fontaine said.

“Not good enough,” Tyrone said.

“Make it good enough.”

Tyrone sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Dammit, ‘Taine. Don’t start that shit,” he said. 

Fontaine suddenly sniffed and Tyrone whipped his head towards him. Fontaine’s head was tilted chasing the scent. Could he smell you on Tyrone? 

“How long do you need?” Tyrone asked, trying to distract Fontaine. But Fontaine only took another deep breath.

“Damn, that almost smells like…Versailles,” he said. 

The name triggered a distant memory, of remembering when Tyrone and Fontaine had walked the halls of the famous palace, had walked by a proper lady, and she had smelled so good, it made Tyrone and Fontaine whirl around. 

Fontaine chuckled. “Must be all this pussy in the air. Anyway, I’m fo’ real. I just want to know how much he knows. I’ll be gone before you know it.” 

Tyrone nodded. “Fine. Don’t start anything while you here. Get in, get out,” Tyrone said.

Fontaine smirked and shook his head. “Shit, baby brother. You really got something here,” Fontaine said.

“You don’t have to keep up the good older brother routine. I already said you could stay,” Tyrone said. 

Fontaine laughed. “Man, whoever you fucked, go fuck ‘em again. Loosen up. All that frowning gon’ make you old,” Fontaine chuckled on his way out of the office. 

Tyrone watched him go. He strained his hearing for Fontaine’s soft steps and followed the sound of his shoes out of the house. He hadn’t smelled you. Good. Tyrone left his office and headed back to you. 

He couldn’t risk Fontaine knowing about you. He didn’t know what his brother would do around you. Especially if he was thinking of Versailles. Whatever that was supposed to mean. The centuries tended to blur after being alive so long. It was just fleeting from one activity to the next. 

He’d have to look into it later. For now, he wanted to forget that Fontaine was here. He wanted to forget that there were others in the house. He wanted to wrap himself in your warmth and addicting scent and sleep the morning away.

You were still fast asleep. Tyrone lowered the lights and climbed into bed. He snuggled you from behind. You let out a soft sound. He wrapped his hand around your tummy and felt the approaching morning like a heavy blanket. He slipped off to sleep with your intoxicating scent tickling his nose.

&&&

Masterlist | Chapter 3

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

Ease

AN: Yes, I caved. I was tempted to write about Seonghwa instead, but I realised I haven't written anything for San yet, so here we are. What can I say, I am a weakling for men with children. Shoutout to Troye Sivan for the title.

Synopsis: After a particularly rough day with months of working on your latest book finally coming to an end, your husband reminds you that's he'll always be there for you. In every way he can be.

General tags: Choi San x Fem! Reader, Reader and San are married with a daughter, Writer! Reader, Househusband! San, hurt and comfort elements, fluff and mentions of alcohol and alcohol consumption.

Smut tags: Switchy tendencies from both Reader and San, nipple play (f. and m. receiving), dirty talk, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), unprotected piv sex, elements of objectification (m. receiving), not a breeding kink but, San gets off (like a lot) cumming inside of Reader and creampie.

Word count: 5738

I will block you if you are a minor and have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Your apartment is silent for the most part when you slip in. You can faintly hear San in the kitchen, but there's no signs of your daughter's signature laugh and nonstop rambling filling the space of your home. The quiet reminds of you of a time that seems as though it was a lifetime ago when it was just San and you. The nostalgia causes a smile to rise to your lips as you place your bag down on the couch and journey your way into the kitchen.

Affection bubbles inside of you as San hums a tune you don't recognise while he cooks. You have no idea what he's making but, the scent invades your nostrils and your stomach growls. Not loud enough to alert him but, loud enough that you remember that the last thing you consumed was an iced coffee during lunch with your editor. Your nerves too fried to even think about eating. The meeting why you've come home so late that your daughter isn't even up to welcome you home.

You try your best to ignore the way that twists your stomach.

Perhaps it's the sheer exhaustion of the day, or the guilt, or just that you simply love your husband that prompts you to walk towards him and wrap your arms around his waist. You laugh into his shoulder when he jumps slightly, nearly dropping the pepper in his shock.

"Jesus, you scared me," he huffs, but there's no real bite in his voice. One of his hands reaching down to give your own a squeeze.

"You were too focused on your cooking I guess," you respond, feeling lighter than you have in months.

"In my defence, this is a great pasta," he retorts, and you can hear the grin in his voice. He lowers the heat before turning in your embrace. You don't know if you'll ever grow indifferent to just how stunning your husband. His dimples poking through as he smiles at you and his arms wrap around your waist.

"How'd it go?" He asks, giving you his undivided attention, and you'll never quite understand how you convinced this man to fall in love with you, marry you, and have a child with you.

You groan a little dramatically, resting your head against his shoulder. His chest vibrates with his soft chuckles, but he waits for you to respond nonetheless, "A lot better than I was expecting. Hongjoong said he was impressed with the first draft and he probably won't have to edit much. Which is great news but, fuck me that was one of the most tense meetings of my life."

"Why's that baby?" He asks, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your skin.

"I don't think I've poured this much of myself into a book ever, Sannie. God, I'm sure you know that better than anyone. I honestly don't know how I would've reacted if he didn't like it. I think I would've just broken down," you half joke.

He hums, choosing his words carefully before speaking, "I think sometimes it's easy to forget how talented you are because no one reads your work more than you. Even Hongjoong," he says with an uptick of his lips, "You're right that no one knows how much you worked on this draft more than me. Which is why I was confident it'd be received well," he says, leaning his forehead against yours.

"I'm so proud of you. I always will be."

Tears spring to your eyes completely unbidden. You clutch onto him tighter, your body seemingly determined to meld itself as close to his as possible. San, for his part, doesn't seem to mind. Holding you to his solid form just as closely.

"I love you," you whisper into him. Honestly, you don't expect him to hear you so his, "I love you too," and kiss to your forehead catch you off-guard. Fortunately his next frantic mutter of 'shit' helps to diffuse the tension. Before you can ask what's wrong, he turns away from you once more to stir the pasta. Tension leaving his shoulders when it appears to not have burned.

You take that opportunity to lift yourself up onto the counter and observe his broad back once more. "I'm surprised our little energiser bunny isn't here," you start. You know you're home later than usual but, she's typically still up by now.

He laughs at that, the sound filling the kitchen wonderfully and setting butterflies alight in your stomach, "She's come down with a bit of a cold," the news makes you frown, your grip on the counter growing harsher, "It's nothing too bad but, she has been sleeping earlier over the past few days."

God, how could you miss that? Sometimes, it still leaves you stunned that she's already two. How much more of her life are you going to miss?

"Don't do that."

Your eyes fly up to meet the back of San's head. He seems satisfied with the dish, turning off the stove and setting the pot on one of the cool plates.

"I can hear you beating yourself up from here," he says, turning to you, and it takes a tremendous amount of effort not to shy away from the knowing look on his face. "You're a great mother. I know that, and so does she. Just because you didn't catch that she caught a cold like what, three days ago? Doesn't mean anything."

The guilt still remains but, it's significantly less than it was moments ago. You'll never understand how he does that.

"Now come on, I made this kick ass pasta, and I know you're really hungry right now," he says with a smile. "Grab one of your favourite bottles. I think we've earned it."

San was right. His pasta is delicious. Which shouldn't surprise you, but when you take your first forkful, you're still left stunned. You don't remember the last time you drank something that wasn't water, coffee, or an energy drink, so the wine is a welcome change of pace. The liquid warming your blood and your face and helping you feel more relaxed than you have in ages.

San being the main reason you feel so at ease. It really has been longer than you care to think about since the two of you have had the time to just be with one another. No looming thoughts of work or cleaning or nap times. Just the two of you basking in one another's presence.

"I think I'm going to take a bath before bed," you say once the two of you start clearing your plates and glasses, the wine still lingering pleasantly in your system, "Do you want to join me?"

The look he gives you sends lightning down your spine, straight to the apex of your thighs, "Is this your way of coming onto me?" He even has the nerve to shoot you a lopsided grin over one of his stupidly broad shoulders.

"I'm not not coming onto you but, I was just offering, if you want to."

He laughs at that, "Fair enough. I think I'm going to finish cleaning up here. Feel free to go on ahead, you've more than earned it."

"I can help you, if you'd like."

San waves you off, "I've got this. Now shoo. Go soak to your heart's content with all of your fancy soaps and fragrances."

You hesitate momentarily but, San shoots you a look that leaves little room for argument. With that you, you trudge your way down the hall towards your bedroom. However, you pass your daughter's room on the way there and are unable to push down that suddenly visceral urge to see her. So, ever so slightly and as quietly as humanly possible, you take a peak.

San was right, she's out like a light. Her soft inhales and exhales and little snores filling the space of her bedroom while she clutches onto her favourite blanket. You can hear the nasally quality to her breathing, and that makes you frown, but she's resting now, and that's all you can really ask for at the moment. Just as silently, you shut her door once more. The lightness that comes with just seeing her washing over you.

With that, you continue on your way to your bedroom, smiling at your neatly made bed before stripping out of your 'work clothes.' Which feels absurd to say since your typical work attire consisted of a hoodie and sweats but, you did have an array of more official attire specifically for meetings with Hongjoong, new releases and book signings. A quiet laugh leaves you when you remember that San confessed he thinks you look hot in them once. If you didn't feel little better than a log right now, you'd fuck him while wearing them again.

Shaking those memories from your mind, you drop your clothes into the laundry hamper. You yawn a little as you walk towards the bathroom. Honestly, a warm bath before crawling into your sheets and coiling yourself around San sounds like a dream right now. Despite his dramatics, you opt for a much simpler vanilla scented bath bomb to dissolve into your water this time around. Your eyes fluttering shut, and a moan echoing throughout the bathroom when you sink into the water. The warm temperature practically making you melt as you sink lower and lower.

You might just fall asleep right here.

However, the grime of your day is still on your skin, so you grab your washcloth and begin scrubbing it away. Humming a tone you're not quite sure where you heard as you go. You're too engrossed, and your mind is a little too hazy to notice San slip into the bathroom. He simply watches you for a few moments. Taking in the way the droplets of water run down your shoulders and your melodic voice caresses his ears.

"Need any help with that?"

Embarrassment causes your face to prickle with warmth when the water around you splashes at your startled jump. San at least has the decency to stifle his laughter as he walks over to you. Look far too amused for your liking.

"Jesus San, you scared me. Give a woman a warning," you say, melting into his touch when his strong hands ease themselves onto your shoulders.

"I'm sorry, baby," he doesn't sound all that sorry, and the laughter in his voice is yet to dissipate. Any complaints you have die on your tongue when he begins to knead the stiff muscles of your shoulder. Your eyes fluttering shut and soft moans of appreciation filling the bathroom as he works every knot and ache he can get his hands on.

Stupid hot man with his pretty hands that know how to turn you into a puddle.

"I already washed up earlier but, I thought you'd appreciate a massage," he mutters quietly, drinking in the way you dissolve under his hands. All your brain can manage is a hum in appreciation and acknowledgement of his words. He smiles at that at least he knows he's doing a good job.

You're not sure how much time passes before you're blinking your eyes awake. Your fingers have turned pruney, and your upper back feels tender and looser than it has in months. It's past time to get out of the bath, you think.

"Sannie, I think I'm ready to get out now. Thank you for the massage," you mutter, grabbing his hand and kissing his palm before draining the bathtub and stepping out.

"You're welcome," San responds a little dazed and, acting as though he hasn't seen you in the nude thousands of times at this point. It does wonders for your self-esteem, however.

You suppress a laugh as you wrap your towel around your body, and the trance he was in comes to an end.

"Let's go to bed."

You opt for one of San's older, majorly oversized shirts as your choice of sleepwear for the night. It brings you back to the earlier months of your relationship when he first shyly said you could keep it. He still wore it on occasion, so his scent still lingers on it just the way you love.

For all your teasing at his expense in the bathroom, you find yourself with your tongue tied when your eyes land on his bare torso. His bottom half is not much better since he's wearing boxers that cling to his thighs in a way that causes you to swallow. Hard.

If this is his way of attempting to seduce you, it's working. Maybe a little too well.

Magically, your legs remember how to work, and you manage to walk to your bed without tripping over yourself. If San notices your odd behaviour, he doesn't say much, choosing instead wrap you up in his arms as soon as you're within reach.

Your skin burns everywhere he touches. His fingers drawing nonsensical patterns over your thigh that he's strawn over himself. Your arm naturally drapping over his broad chest. You're surrounded by him and, suddenly you wonder why sleep was on your mind in the slightest.

"It was nice getting to spend some one on one time with you," he says, his eyes swallowing you whole when he sets them on you. You'll never understand how he manages to lace the most mundane comments with so much intensity.

"Mmm, I've missed it too," you confess, and it's true. Between the chaotic nature of both of your jobs and a child to raise, you two rarely have nights such as tonight for yourselves. Perhaps it's fondness or a simple want to that drives you to press a delicate kiss to his jaw.

Your insides twist themselves into knots when San's eyes turn heavy, he searches your face for something before speaking, "Are you tired?"

His intent couldn't be more clear if he literally spelled it out for you.

"No."

His hand drifts from your thigh to cup your face. His thumb dragging itself along your bottom lip and the temptation to take it into your mouth is visceral. However, you choose to see what he does instead with baited breath. His eyes follow the trail of his thumb as though it's the most significant sight in the world. You may just lose your mind if he doesn't just kiss you.

Fortunately for you, San doesn't keep you waiting for long. He kisses you slowly, a far cry from the months of hurried, frenzied kisses before either of you have to start your day or your daughter wakes up from one of her naps. Hands snaking between thighs to make sure you're wet and he's hard enough because quickies are the majority of what you've had the time and energy for.

Tonight, however, San kisses you as though you two have all of the time in the world. His thumb tracing your jaw as his tongue licks its way into your mouth. He even has the audacity to laugh when you whimper into him because of the intrusion. His laughter doesn't last, however, a strangled groan leaving him when you lightly nip his bottom lip.

A startled gasp flies from you when he rolls you on your back. His eyes are lidded and dark with barely restrained want as he looks down at you. This time, the way he kisses you is decidedly less tender. He doesn't hesitate to practically shove his tongue down your throat.

His muscular arms cage you in and, it's difficult to tell who moans louder when his half hard cock presses against your bare pussy. "You're not wearing anything?" He mutters against your jaw, sloppily kissing any skin he can as he slowly grinds against you. It's not easy to find your words with how all encompassing he is. Your nails biting into his shoulders. God, when did he get so jacked?

"No," you moan out finally when his teeth trace your pulse point and he brushes your clit, "I'm not." Some kissing and grinding and, you can already feel yourself getting wet. It really has been longer than you care to think about.

"Oh, you wanted this then," he breathes, one of his hands dragging up your body. His hand cups one of your breasts over his shirt, his thumb dragging circles over your nipple that pokes through the fabric, and that prompts your hips to jolt up into him. A drawn out whimper of his name ringing out through your bedroom, "You could've just said so, baby. I'd happily fuck you."

Between his ministrations, words and the petname, your walls clench hard around nothing. "San," is all your brain can supply at the moment. Your back arching when he playfully pinches your nipple between his fingers.

"Poor baby," he coos into your throat between licks and kisses, "Already so worked up. Don't worry, I'll take care of you." You don't have the presence of mind to bite back a whine when he separates himself from you. The amused smirk that spreads on his face twists the knife of arousal deeply embedded in your gut. He doesn't stay away from you for long. His hands impatiently tugging your sleeping shirt over your head and, tossing it somewhere on your bedroom floor.

You rarely feel shy with San. You've never had a reason to but, sometimes, when his face softens and he looks at you like he can't quite believe you're real and naked in front of him like he is now, the urge to cover your face does crop up.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers so quietly that you almost think he didn't mean to verbalise that particular thought. His kisses along your collarbone are featherlight, barely there as he trails his way down to your breasts. Your fingers weave themselves in his hair, and your breathing grows increasingly laboured when he kisses the tops of them. His eyes find yours through the locks of his hair when he licks at your nipple slowly.

Yours nearly flutter shut. Your body instinctively pressing into him to feel more. To feel as much as you possibly can. You tug on his hair harsher than you intend to when he finally envelopes it in his warm, wet mouth. His appreciative groan going straight to your clit. No matter how many times you've been with each other, San is ever the starved man. He sucks and licks and fondled as though he might die if he doesn't have as much of you as he can. For your part, all you can do is squirm and writhe, ever tug adding to the slick smearing your inner thighs.

He leaves your breast with a pop that is louder than strictly necessary. His eyes almost appear black when the search for yours again. The glazed quality to them makes you want to rub your thighs together but, he's firmly slotted between them. He holds your gaze as he kisses down your torso. Your breath hitching when he kisses just above your swollen clit.

"You smell so good," he moans and, you finally noticing him rutting against the mattress. God, if you weren't already beyond worked up. That thought is swiftly knocked out of your when when he does take his first lick of you. It's slow and drawn out. Starting from your dribbling entrance and ending at your clit. You never stood a chance.

Something broken and animalistic bubbles out of San's chest then. His hold on your thighs firm. Keeping you exactly where and how he wants you so you can't squirm away from him. A pitchy keen echoes throughout your bedroom when he fully wraps his lips around your clit. Years of experience making him an expert at pushing you to the the edge of your sanity in a matter of mintures. You're not quite sure what to do with your hands. They're restless. Not sure whether you want to claw at the sheets or play with your breasts but, you eventually settle on familiar territory. Electing to wind them in his dark locks once again.

They tug especially hard when his fingers toy with your weeping entrance. Collecting your arousal in his fingertips and swallowly thrusting into you. You both know that's not nearly enough for you and you whine brokenly, tugging on his hair harder. Prompting a moan from him and the vibrations sending shudders from the top of your spine to your extremities.

"San please," you finally cry out, bucking your hips into his face, "Your fingers. Please, please-"

You nearly choke on your spit when he complies. Pushing two fingers into gradually until he's knuckles deep inside of you. You're beyond wet so the stretch is minimal, but there's still enough of one to prompt some whimpers from you. He distracts with that stupidly skillful mouth of his. Drawing patterns on your clit with his tongue he knows will render you devoid of thought.

Your body jerks harshly when he moves his fingers. The first curls of them inside of you are so, so good. However, when San finds the part of your walls that makes it feel as though your vision goes white for a second, that's when it's truly all over for you. He's ruthless. Rubbing against over and over and over again as his mouth does not relent in the slightest on your poor clit. Licking and sucking with one clear-cut goal in mind. If you somehow had the strength to keep your eyes open, you'd notice his eyes watching you intently. Drinking in every pinch of your brows and the way your pretty mouth is stuck in a permanent O. The ache in his jaw is nothing compared to any of that.

San is rewarded for his unrelenting consistently when your grip in his hair grows even harsher, to the point where it starts to sting but, he couldn't care less because you're cumming on his face and around his fingers. One of his hands shoots up to, unfortunately, cover your mouth because you were getting loud. He doesn't want to risk waking up your daughter, but he continues to lap at you and finger you through your release, albeit less intensely.

"San," you whine weakly against his hand when your consciousness trickles back into your body. Lightly tugging his face away from him. He whines but, otherwise doesn't put up much of a fight. Removing his hand from your mouth, he gradually removing his fingers from your walls and parting from your pussy with one final kiss.

Sometimes, in the private parts of your mind, you wonder if he'd ever let you take a picture of him like this. Eyes completely glassy with your wetness smeared across his nose, lips and chin, and a pretty flush colouring his tan skin. Without much of a second thought, you tug him towards you. The taste of yourself on his lips is a little salty, but it's not unpleasant. Maybe it's a little narcissistic to admit, but it kind of adds fuel to the fire in your core. San kisses you back fiercely as though his jaw hadn't been working for who knows how long. His erection is scorching and heavy against your thigh as he grinds against you shallowly.

Considering how distracted he is, it's easy to roll him onto his back. He blinks up at you in surprise and he just looks so cute you have to kiss him. So you do. Pressing kisses along his jaw as your fingernails drag along his muscular torso. You really don't know when he got this muscular or, how he even had the time to but, you're not complaining.

"You're so beautiful, Sannie," you whisper in his ear. Biting back a giggle when he flushes a deeper shade of pink and squirms underneath you, "Thank you," he mutters, but it's barely loud enough for you to hear. You manage somehow anyway.

The muscles in his abdomen jump when your fingers ghost over them. Now it's your turn to toy with him. Snapping the waistband of his boxers and delighting in the way it makes him grow more and more restless.

"Please touch me," he begs, and when he looks at you with his pretty, brown eyes and the pout he knows you're a weakling against, how could you ever say no?

You shuffle lower and drag his boxers off of him, he lifts his hips to help you along the way and his cock smacks against toned abdomen. Your walls instinctively clench hard at the sight of his cock, glistening with pre-cum that's streaked his stomach, before you even unceremoniously dispose of his boxers.

You straddle him. Leaning down to press a kiss to his lips again which he readily accepts, his hands gripping your hips hard enough that you wouldn't be surprised if his fingerprints were burned into your skin. The moan he let's out against your lips when your wet slit glides along his cock worsens the emptiness you feel but, it's always so enjoyable watching him lose his composure. Your nails dig into his shoulders with ever brush and bump against your clit, your hips picking their pace as you chase your own pleasure.

"Fuck," he groans out gutturally, "Stop teasing please."

"Well, what do you want, baby?" You ask with a faux confused tilt of your head, dragging your teeth along his neck as you continue to cover him in your arousal. You know you're probably going to pay for this later but, you'll have your fun for now.

"Fuck me, please" Well, when he asks so cutely, how could you ever deny him?

You pull away from him and grip him in your hand. He's even hotter in your palm, and his weight makes saliva pool in your mouth, but that can wait for another time. He's already more than slick enough for you so you decide to end both of your respective miseries and slowly sink down onto him.

It's been a week, maybe, since the last time you felt him inside of you, so the stretch this time does take you some adjusting. He's so thick, and even after so long, sometimes you need to take a second. San is patient as ever, even though his cock twitches with ever centimetre you manage to sink down on. That and the way his hold on your grows more desperate are the only indicators of his restraint, but he watches your face and body like a hawk. Making sure it's not too much for you.

You unintentionally claw at his abs when your ass final comes to rest on his firm thighs. Honestly, your body is still reeling from your orgasm and your thighs feel closer to jello, but you want to ride him for as long as you can. You crack your eyes open when the overwhelming sensation of him being sheathed inside of you mostly subsides, and the sight San creates reminds you why you wanted to do this in this first place.

His eyes already look so fucked out, he's barely keeping them open. However, they're open nonetheless, and his gaze is laser focused between your thighs. Utterly enraptured with watching himself completely inside of you. And his face contorts beautifully when you rise up before slowly sinking back down onto him.

His hands drift from your hips to hold onto your thighs when you find your rhythm. You can already feel the fatigue beginning to settle into your thighs with every bounce on his cock but, watching the way his brows pinch in pleasure and his moans caress your ears is enough to motivate you to keep going.

His can't seem to decide where to focus. They alternate between watching your face and the mirade of expressions that flit across it, watching the way your breasts bounce in time with your rhythm on him and watching the way his cock splits you open over and over again. Glistening with your wetness that trickles down him onto the sheets beneath the two of you.

Despite the tiredness creeping up on you, San feels good. Great, even, like he always does. One of the best parts of riding him is that you've mastered angling yourself just right that every brush of his cock sends your nerves alight. You thought maybe it would be too soon but, one of your hands leaves his abs to rub frantic circles into your clit. It's so difficult to focus on maintaining the pace you set, but you try. Despite your mind being hazy and desperate for the chance to cum again. Cum around him this time.

San doesn't complain in the slightest. In fact, based on the whines that hit your eardrums, the way his hands help you continue bouncing on him as best as you can and his cock twitches incessantly, he's happy to watch you and let you use him to cum again.

"Are you going to cum again for me, baby?" He breathes, focusing his attention fully on the apex of your thighs this time around. Shallowly thrusting up into you and taking in the way your fingers frantically rub your clit to bring yourself over the edge. He steadies himself when all you can respond with are nods and whimpers. Your eyes shut tightly as you focus on nothing but, your release.

"You're so fucking hot," he groans, "Using me to get yourself off. Please cum for me, baby. I want to watch you."

His words slam into you like a runaway train, and so does your oragsm. You couldn't maintain your pace on him even if you tried. Your thighs shake violently around him and the shudders spread throughout your entire body, your extremities curling into themselves. You try your best not to dig your nails into his skin too harshly but, your mind isn't all that there with you right now. Your walls clamping down like a vice around him so tightly that he can't thrust into you all that much.

Typically, San would happily let you ride out your climax. Waiting patiently, well as patiently as he can manage, for you to gather some semblance of your bearings. However, a man can only handle so much. He's just as worn thin by your lack of intimacy as you are. He knows it's no one's fault, the responsibilities of being adults and parents have just taken priority but, it hasn't been easy for him either. Feeling and drinking in the sight of you cumming for him drives him to roll you onto your back. Your hazy eyes blink up at him as you attempt to piece together what's happening.

"Do you need a minute?" He asks, well, more like pants, into your ear. He's still slotted firmly inside of and his body practically shakes with how much he's holding himself back from pumping you full of his cum right now. Your higher order functions gradually come back to you, and you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer to you before responding, "Hm, no. I'm okay."

That's seemingly all San needs because he hooks your legs over his elbows and starts to move. Given how long he's been holding out for, it's no surprise that his thrusts are merciless from the offset. The obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin and his heavy balls smacking your ass and, your intertwined moans ring out through your bedroom once again.

He looks so gorgeous with the way his hair sticks to his sweat forehead and his face is blissed out beyond belief. The slight burn in your thighs from the way he has you folded is worth it both because of how much he's enjoying himself and how deeply it pushes him. You doubt you can cum again so soon but, your weakly spasming walls still milk him for everything he's worth.

Based on the way his breathing increases and his grip on you is well beyond bruising coupled with his increasing moans and his precise thrusts morph into sloppy ones, he's close. The thought forces a whimper from you and your pussy clenches around him harder, "Are you going to cum for me, Sannie?" You moan directly into his ear. Your hands caressing his firm pecs and admiring them momentarily before circling his nipples. If your pussy wasn't being abused by him you'd giggle at the way he jolts, his hips jerking into you with every brush. A keen greeting your ears when you tug on them a little harder.

"I- I'm-" his words, or lack thereof, come out in a jumbled, throaty mess.

"Please? I want it so badly, baby," which isn't untrue, but you know the effect these words have on you like no other, "You're going to cum inside me, right?"

In the mess of words that you're able to register you can make out some mixture of your name, 'fuck', 'please' and 'yes' but, everything else is swallowed by his noises of pleasure as his cock throbs inside of you and ropes of his cum paint your waiting walls white. You don't think you'll ever tire of that feeling. Him pressed so close to and his lips brushing against your skin with every desperate noise that leaves his mouth while he rides out his release.

"San," you wheeze out, "San, baby, as much as I love you my thighs hurt."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry," he says, unhooking your legs from his arms, and your muscles feel significantly less strained. You know the two of you need to start cleaning up, his cum is already starting to trickle out of you, and you definitely need to pee at some point, but you're far too comfortable and relaxed to find the desire to move a millimetre right now.

"I missed this," he mutters into your shoulder, pressing sporadic kisses to whatever skin he has access to.

"I missed this too," you whisper in response, if you speak any louder part of you is worried this'll be ruined. You pull him a little tighter to you, toying with the ends of his hair.

"If I'm being honest, I'm glad you're finished with your book for many reasons," you can hear the mischievous grin in his voice clear as day, "one of them being that I can now properly fuck my wife."

"You're so ridiculous," you laugh, but you don't disagree with his sentiment.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[soobiri]

Our princess

ENHYPEN Xfem!idol!reader

Summary° you, the perfect Y/N from the popular Korean pop group, ENHYPEN, is asked to describe your ideal type on an interview... what will happen??

Warnings:Reader is implied to be shorter than all members, reader is younger than Hyung line,petnames will be used, not proof read.lmk if I missed anything!!!

Genre:fluffy fluff, 8th member of enha,one-shot( my attention span is to small I'm sorry)

(💌): SHURRUP YALL... MY BRAIN IS NOT WORKING SO IM STRUGGLING TO WRITE ATM( even though nobody interacts with my blog🙂🤚) SO PLZZ SEND REQUESTS

"Okay, Y/N, since your new to enhypen we want to ask you a few questions, while your members are still around." The interviewer spoke in such a calm tone, yet still excited to hear your answer. You never actually did a proper interview before, and especially not infront of the guys either, so you weren't as prepared as you would have hoped to be.

"so what was your first thought when you saw the boys and found out you would be apart of the group?" The interviewer asked with a wide smile, you wished you could just Slap the smile off his face, cuz at this moment you were NOT smiling inside. "Oh- uh well i-" you looked back at Jake as if the answer would some how be on his face, he nodded his head forward,as if to tell you to proceed further with what you were doing. " i was nervous before hand I suppose but after a while I guess I got to know them really well" you were soooo proud of yourself (I am too) for answering the question, even though it was t that big of a thing.the interviewer smiled at you and showed a thumbs up, signalling that you were doing great. "Next question?" He raises his eyebrow, you nodded, as a clear sign that you were prepared (bitch we know you weren't) "many fans, and even myself also actually wonder-"he let out a little chuckle, you were starting to get nervous. " What is Y/L/N Y/N's ideal type!" Shit, you didn't know what you were gonna say, you were officially on the verge of a panic attack. "O-oh Uhm- Do I have to-" just as you were about to finish your question he cuts you off. "Oh not just yet, come stand here in front for us,put you on the spot haha," that chuckle, that stupid chuckle. As you hesitantly stood up you looked back at jungwon "I don't wanna do this" "you have to" you guys were practically whisper fighting. "But-" "Uhm, Y/N, we're waiting on you" you rolled your eyes at jungwon and slowly stepped towards the front. He asked the question again "what do youu think your ideal type is?" You thought... For about 1 sevond before blabbing out "well anyone who's taller than me-" you stopped yourself, knowing you had said enough.

Riki clears his throat loudly, purposefully even. He stands up and walks up behind you."I'm taller Do I count?" He says with the most cheesy grin ever while towering over you with his large structure, you were stuck in one place only able to let out a "oh,ha,yeah-" before you felt your older member stand on your other side, "and what about me then? Pretty big difference if Ya ask me, huh Y/N?" Jake found it an appropriate time to chime in, not knowing he had started a new cycle and trend, soon all of the members were huddled around you, all with the same intentions, That's when heeseung decided to stand up from his seating arrangement, he issued Jake to go away, almost has if he was a fly, as Jake and the other boys moved back, heeseung swooped his arm around your waist, "now I think I'm the princess's ideal type".

[phoenixyfriend]

VP Kamala Harris is calling for immediate ceasefire in Gaza

I was alerted to this by the BBC Global News podcast. AP News has a full article on the speech itself, which was not held about Israel and Palestine, but was rather focused on domestic issues of race equality, as the speech was given in Selma, Alabama, on the anniversary of Bloody Sunday (a 1965 Civil Rights march that ended in police violence). There is also a Reuters article if you prefer those.

Despite VP Harris's incredible dedication to the topic of combating anti-black racism in the US and position as a figurehead and spokeswoman for many in that regard, she did find time in her speech for the following:

THINGS OF NOTE:

Harris is still, technically, holding to the party line on the topic of 'Israel has a right to defend itself.' At this point, I'm sure we've all seen enough arguments on whether or not that right is something Israel actually has, given its violations of the international laws of occupation, but it does read to me as more lip service than actual sincerity at this point.

Harris puts the onus of agreeing to a ceasefire on Hamas, rather than Israel. Given Netanyahu's months of explicit refusal to consider a ceasefire unless Hamas is completely and utterly destroyed (and with them, Gaza), this is... not great. Not great. She said, "Hamas claims it wants a ceasefire. Well, there is a deal on the table. And as we have said, Hamas needs to agree to that deal. Let’s get a ceasefire. Let’s reunite the hostages with their families. And let’s provide immediate relief to the people of Gaza."

The 'immediate ceasefire' is still just the 6-week pause that Biden has been talking about, rather than a permanent one.

The speech included "The Israeli government must do more to significantly increase the flow of aid. No excuses." This statement is interesting to look at in light of the US recently hitting a watershed moment and beginning airdrops of relief aid, something so inefficient that they were reluctant to engage with it until given no other choice. The preference was trucks, which are more efficient in terms of quantity, fuel usage, risk of damage from wind blowing things off course, etc. The 'no other choice' is in regards to whether or not the trucks could still get in, not in regards to international or domestic pressure, though that was likely a factor as well.

We got what I believe are some of the harshest and most direct criticisms of Israel's actions so far: "What we are seeing every day in Gaza is devastating. We have seen reports of families eating leaves or animal feed. Women giving birth to malnourished babies with little or no medical care, and children dying from malnutrition and dehydration. Our hearts break for the victims of that horrific tragedy and for all the innocent people in Gaza who are suffering from what is clearly a humanitarian catastrophe. People in Gaza are starving. The conditions are inhumane."

These comments are receiving international coverage, though I'm a bit concerned by how... blase and unconcerned Israeli media seems to be, though since this particular journal (Times of Israel) claims to be non-partisan, maybe that's why? That said, Al Jazeera is also calling it a 'rare rebuke,' which I would guess is a good sign for the shifting of DC's position on the subject when combined with the recent aid drops.

As usual, I am not a political expert, I just like to gather and share information; please go to actual experts when trying to understand what politicians' actions mean. I do, however, want you to call your reps. Here's a guide on how to do it.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents' house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post.