#im not about that life so it would never work for us

[strnlio]

HONEY

PAIRING: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

SUMMARY: a lil fic where matt eats his girl out

WARNINGS! : 18+, oral (f!receiving), fingering, no use of y/n

A/N: my first fic on here hehe hope yall enjoy:) also english isnt my first language so bear with me 😭

“oh fuck-” you managed to breath out as you felt matts tongue swirl around your clit as his large hands squeezed your smooth thighs. you were a whimpering mess, eyes shut tightly, breathing heavily as you pushed your pussy into matt’s face; a sign you wanted more- more being his long fingers where you ached for him the most.

it started with an innocent kiss which turned into a heavy makeout session and had somehow led to matt between your legs, his tongue working wonders amongst your glistening folds. his tongue moved over your clit in figure eight motions, hitting your sensitive bud perfectly. you couldn’t function, you were incapable of forming sentences, your mouth made faint noises- pretty faint noises- which were like honey to matt’s ears. your sweet sweet moans and whimpers were what kept him going, they were like honey to his ears. he felt on top of the world, there was a giddy feeling in his stomach knowing that it was him that caused you to feel this good.

“matt- oh matt,” you managed to breath out. he hummed gently against your clit which caused vibrations along your body. “fingers- please,” you said before letting out a whimper. he grinned against your pussy-how could he not listen to you, his gorgeous girl? he obeyed and unexpectedly shoved his ring finger inside which caused you to emit a high pitched moan. oh how he loved that pretty sound you just made- he had to give his girl what she wanted. he added another finger, slowly pumping them in and out of you.

it was all too much for you- the his fingers inside of you hitting your sweet spot everytime they went in, the feeling of his cold rings on your skin everytime his fingers rammed inside of you, your walls clenching desperately around them, his mouth now sucking your swollen clit, his other hand holding down your stomach to stop you from moving… your mind was foggy, filled with ecstasy y, drunk on the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you, the band inside your stomach threatened to snap anytime.

matt meanwhile was having the time of his life. his blue eyes peered at his girlfriend’s face- the way your eyes were shut, your face scrunched up in pleasure- pleasure that he was causing you, the way you moaned his name telling him to work his fingers faster, the way your chest heaved up and down as you were out of breath, the way your sweet arousal tasted on his tongue- oh he could watch this sight forever and ever and never get tired.

“matt im going to cum-oh—“ you managed to say before the band inside your stomach snapped- your mind turned even foggier as the feeling of ecstasy amplified and your orgasm washed over you. your juices spluttered all over matt’s fingers. he helped you ride out your high as he watched your face through your orgasm before slowly taking his fingers out and licking them clean as he looked you in the eye. the sight made you flustered, and you gave him a shy smile. the butterflies would never get old, you felt as if you were in an everlasting honeymoon phase.

matt wanted to do this all over again, but he knew you were too sensitive, so he placed his urges away and climbed on top of you to place sweet kisses on your forehead. you grinned as he kissed the tip of your nose as he whispered about going to the bathroom to get a towel and clean you up properly. as he got off you and left the room you grinned and closed your eyes wanting to treasure moments like these forever.

a/n i kinda rushed the end lmao 😭

[love4myg]

Melted Kisses

Yoongi's kisses are always sickly sweet. But the taste of melted sugar on his lips makes you crave him more than the plate of sugar coated fruits.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, established relationship au

word count: 1.9k

summary: yoongi and reader makes tanghulu together / yoongi very midly burns himself / makeout session ensues after their cooking / reader is elementary school teacher

warnings: making out, allusions to sex

notes: yay im finally finished with exams!!! this was supposed to be posted next week but it's bts' 11th anniversary so 😋 also im very sorry that the drabbes are jumping around in the timeline, i will eventually put them in chronological order

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"I'm an amazing cook, I don't know what you're on about," Yoongi grumbled as he pulled your back closer against his bare chest. You whined as the cool metal of the silver necklace he wore pressed against your back which caused goosebumps to erupt across your skin.

“I’m just saying. I’m not the one who blended chicken and other shit into a smoothie so I didn’t have to cook for the rest of the day.”

“That was one time! I’m a changed person now, love.”

"Whatever you say, babe."

You giggled softly and Yoongi huffed into your shoulder before he placed a soft kiss against your naked skin.

"You just can't admit that I'm a better cook than you."

You rolled your eyes at his words and turned your head slightly in an attempt to look at him. You could just about see his tired eyes that were closed shut.

"Fine. Next time we're both free, we're making tanghulu."

A lazy smile tugged at the corners of Yoongi's lips as his eyes scrunched into crescent moons.

"You were just waiting for an excuse to make tanghulu, weren't you?"

You hummed in response. You had mentioned the sweet snacks to him frequently, sending him numerous videos with recipes on how to make them.

"Yep. And you fell right into my trap," you giggled. You felt as Yoongi's body shook with airy laughter behind you.

"Ah, you're so annoying."

"You love me anyway," you said with a grin.

"I know," he whispered. He brushed aside your hair to press a kiss onto your temple and drifted off into a peaceful slumber within a few minutes.

────

In all honesty, Yoongi had completely forgotten about your agreement. He had thought you would too, as you were both too giddy and drunk on sex.

But when you arrived home after work the next day with a bag full of ingredients, the only words that stumbled from Yoongi’s mouth were to ask you why you hadn’t used his card to buy everything.

“It’s fine, I had cash on me,” you say, swatting away his words as you place the bag onto the marble countertops.

“Still.” Yoongi’s eyes watch your movements as you begin arranging all of the ingredients into different plates and bowls. 

“Babe, it’s not like I’m poor or something. Plus, I’m the one forcing you to do this.”

A sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you look back at him, and he playfully rolls his eyes before making his way over to you.

"Are you sure you don't want to rest or something? You just came back from work," he says as you start cutting the leaves of the strawberries off.

"Mhm, I’m sure. Can you get the small pot for me? The one we used for ramen yesterday."

Yoongi obliges and places the pot on the stove. You take the bowl of strawberries and bring it under the sink to rinse them. 

It wasn’t often that you would eat strawberries, always complaining about the millions of bugs within them. So when you did decide to have them, you made sure that they were squeaky clean even though it took more time. Yoongi thought they tasted the same either way, but never complained about your antics. 

During the early stages of your relationship, you both rarely got to spend time with each other, whether it was due to his work life or your college classes. Your preferences and quirks meant that a few extra minutes could be spent in your presence, so it didn't bother him in the least.

He moves to the rest of the ingredients and spots three tangerines lying together in a glass bowl.

"You got tangerines?" he asks, taking one into his hands. He throws it into the air like a tennis ball and catches it with ease.

You nod eagerly, a smile plastered onto your face as you look up at him.

"You love them so I wanted to try them out along with the strawberries and grapes. If we end up not liking it, you can have the rest."

Yoongi simply smiles as you bring the freshly cleaned strawberries back to the counter, a familiar, warm feeling tugging at his heartstrings.

He listens to the recipe you read off from your phone and places half a cup of sugar into the pot of water to melt before making his way behind you. He wraps his arms around you and lightly squeezes your body.

He had missed the warmth of your skin against his, and the light smell of your signature perfume. He had even missed the way your voice melodically bounced off the walls of his usually silent home.

Was he being dramatic about you being gone for nine hours? Yes. Was he going to stop? No.

"How was work?"

He places a kiss against your neck before moving his head down to rest on your shoulder, his narrow eyes watching you work carefully. 

"Good. A kid called me mom today and it was literally the cutest thing!"

He laughs softly as you place the knife down and bring your hands to your heart to emphasise your point.

"Mhm, that is cute."

A beat of silence passes before he whispers into your ear.

"I missed you."

It's embarrassing how fast the heat rises to your cheeks at his words, even after this many years of being together.

"I missed you too."

By the time you finish peeling the tangerines, cutting the strawberries and plucking the grapes off their stems, the sugar has fully melted. It would've taken half the time if you had an extra pair of helping hands, but you didn't want Yoongi's arms to move from where they rested around your waist.

Unfortunately, he's forced to peel away from your body as you lower the heat of the thick syrup and begin pushing the pieces of fruit onto skewers.

You playfully scold Yoongi whenever you catch him plopping one into his mouth before asking him to feed you one too.

"We need to stop, or there's gonna be none left by the end," Yoongi says, and you sigh in agreement.

Still, you sneak a slice of tangerine into your mouth, simply placing a peck on Yoongi's lips when he catches you.

In a few minutes, you have two plates filled with multicoloured fruits on skewers ready to be dipped.

You work carefully with the sugar syrup, and you’re surprised at how well the first few pieces turn out. 

"See, I told you! I'm just such an amazing cook," you say, waving the freshly coated skewer in front of him.

"This isn’t even that hard. Here, let me try."

Yoongi moves you to the side and takes a skewer. He tilts the pot to the side and rolls the fruits into the syrup, thickly coating it. He then puts it into a bowl of ice water for it to cool and begins working on the next one.

This time, however? he happens to reach too far into the pot and manages to dip the tip of his finger straight into the melted sugar. 

The hot substance takes a few seconds to do damage, giving Yoongi enough time to place the skewer into the water before swiftly pulling back his hand.

"Shit."

He wipes off the hardening liquid onto a small towel, but it leaves his skin red and angry.

"Babe, I told you to be careful! Are you OK?"

You step towards him and take his hand into yours. It wasn't serious, but there was now a tiny bump forming on the pad of his index finger.

"Yeah, I'm fine. It isn't even that big, see?"

"And? You still burned yourself," you huff.

Without another word, you look through the cabinets to find the burn ointment you had bought months ago as Yoongi protests.

"Seriously, love, it's fine. It doesn't hurt or anything."

"Still."

You successfully locate the ointment within your medicine box. You never really knew why Yoongi kept it in the kitchen, but his actions had proved useful.

You unscrew the cap and apply the tiniest amount onto his finger. He winces as you rub it into his skin, and you whisper an apology.

"There. Now, you've been fired as my co-chef and this also clarifies that I am clearly the better cook."

"That's not fair!"

"Sucks," you say with a shrug of your shoulders as you place the burn ointment back where you had found it.

Yoongi rolls his eyes with a playful scowl and moves to sit on the counter as you work on finishing the rest of the fruits.

Soon enough, the two plates are filled with fruits on skewers with a glassy finish to them. You watch a video to make sure you clean the pot of melted sugar properly and Yoongi offers to clean the rest of the kitchen up as you do so.

You reluctantly agree after seeing that his burn was starting to look less angry. After cleaning the pot and leaving it in the sink with a few other dishes from earlier in the day, you prop yourself onto the counter.

Yoongi finds himself standing between your legs not even a minute later, and you watch eagerly as you give him the first taste test.

His eyebrows scrunch together as he evaluates the taste, clearly taking his job very seriously.

"So?"

"Damn. That's really good. Have a bite."

You smile widely, proud of your work. He points the rest of the skewer at you, but you bring your lips to his and use your tongue to swipe the sugar from his lips. 

"You're right, it is good!"

You smile at the blush that creeps across his pale skin as he takes another bite, failing to hide his timid smile.

You both manage to eat around four skewers worth of fruit, sharing each one between you. Yoongi sneaks kisses against your cheeks and jaw after every few bites, enjoying how he left you a little flustered after each one.

"You're gonna get my face sticky with the sugar," you complain, though you both know you don't want him to stop.

"I'll just lick the stickiness off," he says with a shrug.

"Ew, you're disgusting."

He laughs at the whine in your voice, placing another kiss on the corner of your lips.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, moving his mouth down onto your neck.

You tilt your neck to give him better access, stealing another skewer as you do so.

"Don't leave any marks, I have school tomorrow."

"The kids won't even know what they are," he mumbles, moving his tongue to gently graze your skin.

"Yeah they will! Kids are very modern nowadays, and there's only so many times I can say I burned myself with my curling iron."

Yoongi smiles against your neck and you leave the skewer in your hand to be forgotten on the counter. Your hands find their way into his grown-out locks, and you gently tug at the roots.

You bring his head back to meet your lips again, and the taste of melted sugar on his tongue drives you insane. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in even closer.

You find yourself smiling against him as his hands move up to cup your cheeks.

If this was how every cooking session ended between you, Yoongi wouldn't mind being called a bad cook as much.

[virgincels]

WHITE BOY WASTED !

ft. og4!leon s. kennedy x fem!reader x og4!ashley graham

tags. intoxication, dub-con/non-con idk atp, ffm threesome, unrequited love (leshley), leon is the one that gets dub-conned, very unsatisfying sex and smut, oral

note. @rigorwhoring hi you beautiful beautiful girl happy birthday sorry this is so late!!! i hope u enjoy this and i hope u have the best day ever!!! not my best work but forgive me im writers blocked to hell and back… this is edited but if u see a mistake please ignore… my excuse for excessive repetition and simplicity is 😇 ashley pov 💪💯 I LOVE U EM <3 this got so long winded and boring I’m sorry I didn’t mean for all of this 😓😓

When Leon lets it slip that he’s got a girlfriend, Ashley thinks her life might be over amidst this sweaty crowd with her nose powdered in more ways than one. Her smile breaks in half, the plump of her bottom lip taken between lipstick-smeared teeth as she tries to put on her big girl face.

“I’m so happy for you,” Ashley says with eyes too wide to be genuine, her voice cracks and her hands drop from his shoulders where they fit so nicely, the initial excitement of him showing up tonight dims. She’ll have to retire those fantasies and rely on that hairbrush she calls Leon for the rest of her life.

“Ashley—“ Leon’s voice is muffled, it might be the bass or the blood rushing in her ears.

“No, this is totally so fun, Leon, this is—Like, gosh, I’m so happy for you, you wouldn’t even believe how happy I am, I’m like literally squealing to myself, oh my gosh, like, like—“ She thinks she’s going to cry.

“Ashley.“ His scowl deepens, the severity in his eyes is wounding her, like, oh my god, doesn’t he know not to look at her that way? Gosh, the way Leon breathes could set Ashley off, like, why are you huffing at her? Why did you use that tone of voice? Why, why, why? She’s not stupid, Ashley is like a master at reading body language.

“Why did you show up, Leon?” Ashley cuts him up once more, she feels light on her feet all of a sudden, it could be the high or it could be enlightenment. “Like, you never—you never come when I ask you to show up.” Did he come to rub it in her face? That he’s got a girlfriend and that means Ashley has even a less of a chance with him than she did before.

“You called me,” Leon tells her, and he’s trying to be loud over the music, but it feels like he’s shouting at her. He is shouting at her. He’s using this party invite as an excuse to be mean, to get away with how he truly feels about her. Leon never shouts so he must be mad—He wants her out of his life, that’s what he’s going to tell her.

Ashley, you’re an annoying little bitch, and nobody actually likes you, they stick around because you pay for everything and that’s the only real reason anyone would ever want to be around you. Anyway, I have a girlfriend and she’s a hundred times hotter than you, and she’s not a kid, she’s my age. By the way, I remember when you kissed me in my sleep on the flight home from Spain, you’re a fucking creep and I would never waste my time with a little girl like you, can you even wipe your own ass or wild your boyfriend have to do that for you too?

Yes, Leon, I can wipe my ass! Do you want to watch? It’s a date.

With this newfound clearheadedness clutched at her side like a holy book, Ashley stills her quivering lip. “I always invite you to parties,” she points out, “so why did you show up today?”

“You called me,” he repeats, “I don’t answer texts ‘cause I don’t get what you mean, I thought—I mean, I just thought you were pressing the buttons—I didn’t know they meant anything.“ Leon shakes his head to reset his jumbled thoughts. “You never call, I got worried, I thought you needed help.”

“Oh my god, don’t do this to me right now, Leon!” She struggles to get away from him, the walls are closing in on her and there’s too many people to move an inch.

“I’m not trying to do anything, I thought you were hurt—“ Leon follows her movements closely. He’s good at that - shouldering past whoever’s in Ashley’s way, parting a crowd like the Red Sea just so she can make her way through. It’s only because she’s his responsibility—well, not anymore, Ashley hasn’t been his responsibility for six months, but still, it makes her feel special.

It’s so unfair, it’s so not fair. This is like emotional cheating, she read about that in the cosmopolitan. Like, where your mind says one thing and your heart says another, if Leon seriously liked his girlfriend, would he be chasing around after Ashley right now? He’s leading both of them on—They’re in this together, personally victimised by Leon S. Kennedy.

“Yeah, well, I’m not,” Ashley sniffles, she is so hurt his stupid boy brain couldn’t even comprehend the spiking levels of hurt inside of her right now, “so, like, can you go now?”

“Ashley,” he says her name again, is that all he has to say to her? Ashley, Ashley, Ashley—If he gave her the chance, he could be saying it in bed. Please, Leon, she could pop his hip out of place if he let her get on top. “Are you drinking?”

“Yes, duh, Leon, oh my gosh, I am doing a lot more than that!” She recalculates her path to the nearest possible exit, skin going pink with the gust of wind that has her skirt flying up. Leon smooths it back down for her, and then he spins her around to face him. And it’s so dangerous to be this close to him, Ashley really might do something bad. Like, like, she might have to get her dad to cover up a criminal record if Leon doesn’t get off of her right now. Every governing body is made up of sex pests anyway. It’s not like it would be a big deal.

“What is up with you?” His brows are knit with concern. She counts all of his freckles.

You have a girlfriend and everything is ruined. You have a girlfriend and everything is worse now. You have a girlfriend and now I can’t get off to you without feeling guilty and jealous and sick to my stomach. Did Spain mean nothing to you? You hugged me and you held my hand. Why don’t you answer my texts? How can you pretend nothing happened between us?

Instead of saying anything mildly intelligent or moving, Ashley hiccups and then keels over to vomit on his shoes. She narrowly misses them. Leon makes it all worse by rubbing her back and telling her to let it all out. Because he’s just like that. He’s a really good guy and it’s way too easy to fall in love with him.

When he offers to drive her home, Ashley whimpers out a ‘no’ but clings onto him anyway. Leon does her seatbelt up, and he puts the heaters on to warm her up. He switches the radio station from rock to KIIS-FM and then he squeezes her hand over the gearshift.

Leon gets out to talk to security even when they recognise his car as he pulls up, and he insists on dropping Ashley right inside even when she brushes him off and says it’s fine.

Really. It’s so fine, Leon. This is embarrassing enough as it is, I don’t want you to see mom and dad scold me like I’m a kid in front of you—Like, seriously, Leon, there’s no need to do that, or drop me off to bedroom—I’ve got it from here, I don’t want you to see my bedroom, I still have stuffed toys and I can’t even make my own bed and I can’t even pick my clothes up off the ground.

Of course, Ashley says none of this, and she doesn’t have the energy to lift her head and see her daddy’s fallen face, she just lets Leon take her to bed. He doesn’t come in thank god, but he kisses her forehead at the door and then leaves for good.

“Wow,” is all Ashley has to say when she meets you for the very first time. She hasn’t seen a skirt that short since daddy pulled her out of that Catholic boarding school. She hasn’t seen tits like that since she checked hers out in the mirror this morning.

Why are you cool? It’s not supposed to go like this. Ashley isn't ready to face someone like you. Oh my god, it’s like the universe is against her, you look like the whole world rolls over when you ask it to.

Neither you or Leon have spotted her yet, so she hides behind one of her casually dressed security guards. Ashley looks at the text she sent.

Ashley: HAI LEON !! u still up 2 meet 2mrw?? :3

Ashley: OMG vry excited 2 c u 2day. LMK if u want 2 cum over 2! BYOB though !! *laughing emoji*

Ashley: Only jk Leon :3 We have W/E beer u like! Anyway G2G TTYL wen I c u there ^-^

Ashley: OMW RN leon B4N ;)

Ashley: Oops >_<

Ashley: :)****

Leon: Okay, Ashley.

Leon: :)

Oh my god, desperate much? He didn’t even respond to her prior texts and she just kept going. The smiley face must mean he’s not mad.

Her phone beeps, she dreads to open it.

Leon: Hey, you here yet?

Leon: :)

Ashley blinks at her screen and wonders if it’s worth showing face. But, her dad is so going to ask how it went down later, and Ashley is awful at lying and she’ll burst into tears and get sent right back to that awful therapist with the stuffy nose. So she takes whatever insecurity she has and shoves it up her ass, it can fix itself like intestines after a surgery.

“Leon!” She springs herself on him from behind, and he’s not much taller than her, but he manages to not topple over, his hands settle over hers as she squeezes his middle tight.

“Ashley.” That’s a smile in his voice, she hopes. She traces a heart on his shoulder blade before she removes herself from his space. It’s very hard to have self control when you’ve never been told no.

“Sorry I’m late, Leon, there was traffic, and then I lost my handkerchief and then I dropped my phone and it wasn’t working for a minute and—Oh.” She lies to Leon ‘cause it’s easy to lie to a guy you want to look cool in front of, someone you want to impress, it’s not easy to lie in front of daddy. “Is this your girlfriend, Leon?”

She pretends her heart doesn’t lurch when he wraps an arm around your waist to draw you closer to him. “Yeah, uh, babe this is Ashley.”

Ashley looks you up and down for anything she can pick on, anything that she does better than you. But her data scan finds nothing of the sort. You’re perfect and Ashley has never felt more homicidal in her life—Apart from that time she was plagas-riddled.

Unfortunately, you are really fucking cool, and you make her feel more comfortable than Leon ever has, you take the edge away and she’s finally able to relax in front of him.

You work at an office part time, but you spend most of your time out and about, making connections that get you free designer handbags and you have acrylics and ankle-breaking heels and a lip combo she would die for. You are everything she wants to be if it wasn’t for this presidency bullshit. Ashley wants nothing more than to wear a skirt that covers less than half her ass, that flashes everyone in a ten mile radius anytime she takes a step.

“I thought he was ignoring me, I didn’t know he couldn’t read them!” Her texts aren’t that bad, she knows people who don’t even leave a space between their words.

“I wouldn’t ignore you,” Leon mumbles, his lips pressed together in what might be the closest thing to a pout

“Oh em gee, you’re like not even that old, Leon,” she giggles, covering her mouth because she has never liked the way her two front teeth are a little bigger than the rest, and she doesn’t need Leon to pick up on that.

“He doesn’t even know how to make a smiley, I did it for him,” you tell her, “he barely answers my texts, I have to call him every single time.”

You tell her insider info about Leon that she couldn’t even get if she stalked him everyday for the rest of her life. Ashley really likes you, and she can see why Leon really likes you too, and she can’t lie, it kind of makes her really distraught, but if Leon is happy, Ashley is happy.

Oh, who is she kidding?

It doesn't work like that.

Ashley’s selfish. It doesn’t matter if you make Leon happier than he’s ever been, she still wants him to be hers. Not that he would ever even consider anything between the two of them, but him being happy won’t stop Ashley from being unhappy.

“We should go out tonight,” you offer a little while later, and Leon shakes his head immediately.

“She’s twenty,” he murmurs into your ear.

“So?” You seem to do that a lot - ignore everything Leon says in favour of what you want. “You drink, right, Ashley?”

“Yeah, duh, of course I do!” Ashley nods so fast she gives herself whiplash.

You give her a time, place, dress code and a kiss on her cheek. Ashley promises that she’ll be there on time, fake ID in hand.

Ashley finds both of you huddled in a booth, your arm is around Leon’s waist and his face is pressed into your neck, looking awfully small as he speaks. “She’s a kid, it’s illegal.”

“Everyone drinks, Leon, have you never been to a party? Nobody waits until they’re twenty-one, I mean, only you did that.” You use your free hand to card your fingers through his hair. “She really likes you, y’know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Leon huffs like a pouty toddler, “it drives me crazy.”

She holds in a noise. While Ashley has made her attraction to Leon clear, while he rejected her attempt at flirting, at what might’ve been solicitation when she looks back at it, he’s never expressed annoyance at it. Oh god, he finds her annoying. Mega annoying. Like one of those silvery bugs college dorms can’t get rid of. Or rats in the New York subway.

Oh my gosh, she’s a fucking bed bug!

“I think it’s cute.” You kiss his forehead tenderly, and Leon’s light lashes dust your cheeks like spiked plumes. “She could be fun, I bet she’s a virgin too.”

Ashley’s cheeks warm. Is it that obvious? Why is her virginity a topic of discussion anyways? Biologically speaking, like, like hymen-wise, Ashley tore that shit up like a sheet of baking paper the moment she got back from Spain. So she’s not technically an actual virgin, just by, like, modern day standards. Like she’s never let another guy touch her ‘cause they’re not Leon, and it might be childish, but she really wants it to be Leon. She’s kissed a couple girls, but only at sleepovers and only in a friendly way.

“No, god, no fucking way.” He sits up, and she watches him shrug off his jacket like he’s started to overheat. Ashley wishes she could see his face from here. “She’s a kid, babe, I’m not… I can’t do that to her.”

“She’s not a kid, Leon, kids do not have tits like that, I promise you.” You pluck the cherry from his drink. “And she likes you, I don’t see the big deal.”

“She’s… She trusts me, it doesn’t matter if she likes me, she trusts me, and if we do that with her—I can’t have her thinking that I want to date her, I can’t do that to her, she’s a kid, man.”

Ashley wonders if the two of you are looking to find a cute, young girl to kill.

“You’ll change your mind,” is what you tell him, and then you knock back only half of your drink before passing it off to Leon. It’s either that he can’t say no to you or no to a drink, but he takes it and he doesn’t leave a drop.

She hesitates to make herself known. But when else is she going to get the chance to see Leon? He’s busy, and so is she, well, sort of, with parties and sorority and daddy nagging at her.

“Hi.” Ashley slides into the booth and faces you, Leon’s back straightens and he nods at her. Too pissed off to even give her one of his cute smiles.

“Ashley, you look so cute, oh my gosh.” It’s kind of scary how you’re able to fall in and out of speech patterns, putting on your best airhead voice to communicate with Ashley.

“Thanks, so do you!” Ashley thinks brand clashing is tacky, but you pull off Baby Phat jeans and a Von Dutch top pretty effortlessly. You press the sole of your heel to her shin and give her a smile worth dying for.

You don’t dance because Leon refuses, and you say that it’s boring to go on your own, and Ashley knows she’ll be in dire trouble if anyone catches her out here. So you talk, and Ashley listens, and Leon dozes off with his eyes closed. He accepts every drink you give him, and he finishes off all of Ashley’s too. By the end of it, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are glassy like two blue marbles. You make her feel like she needs to fit in, like she needs to keep up and Ashley has never felt that way before.

“Have you fucked a girl before?” You ask her like you’re asking about classes or something so mundane—Not if she’s a fucking lesbian or not.

“What? No, oh my gosh, I’m not like a lesbian,” she mouths the word ‘cause, y’know, that’s weird.

“Have you fucked a guy then?” You tilt your head to the side like you know something, and when Ashley goes to lie she makes the mistake of looking into your eyes.

“No…” Ashley shakes her head slowly, she plays with the hem of her pleated skirt. “I mean like, like, like—“

“It’s totally okay, Ashley.” You wave off her nerves. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“What?” Her eyes bulge out of her skull so fast she gives herself Graves’ disease. “What? Oh my god, like, what?”

Leon is completely disengaged at this point, using a pink straw to stir around melting ice in his cocktail glass. His eyes are dropping, and when he looks up, he gazes at her through his lashes.

“Okay, well, do you want to fuck Leon?”

What is this, like, an interrogation? Ashley hasn’t done anything wrong, not yet at least. Lord, she promises, she hasn’t tried anything funny on Leon—Only once, on the flight back to Spain, and it barely qualifies as a kiss, like she just brushed his lips, it wasn’t anything major.

“Well, well, like, well—“ Ashley stammers for a minute or so, and you look at her all like, ‘take your time’ ‘cause you’re weirdly calm when you say weird fucking things and make her feel weird.

“I don’t mind if you want to fuck him, I’m asking because I think he wants to fuck you.” You’re lying to her face, ‘cause Ashley heard what Leon said, a very clear no, but she believes you anyway ‘cause she wants to believe that Leon wants her. “And I want to fuck you too.”

“I’ll drive,” you tell Leon who doesn’t even look coherent, he slumps back in the passenger seat and looks like he did on the way home from Spain. With his hair falling in his eyes, his lips parted and his hands curled into tight fists. Babies sleep like that.

You make eye contact with Ashley in the rear view mirror and give her a smile so pretty the reflection is blinding enough, she can’t imagine what it looked like up close. She feels like an ant under the burning glow of a magnifying glass. She feels your teeth in her neck. She’s going to feel Leon’s dick inside of her tonight. It might not be entirely legal, but when you’re a girl in a male-dominated world, you have to do what you have to do.

Leon’s house, Ashley thinks as she walks inside, her heels clacking in time with yours.

Leon’s house, Leon’s coat rack, Leon’s plain interior design, Leon’s couch. Leon’s bedroom, Leon’s bed, Leon’s pillow, Leon’s scent. Leon’s girlfriend. Leon Leon Leon.

He’s on his front in bed, still fully clothed, boots and all. You take them off for him and put them to the side, you hang his jacket in his wardrobe, and you begin to take off his jeans. Leon makes a noise of protest in the back of his throat, it’s soft and whiny, the sort of noise a distressed dog makes, and it’s so unlike him she feels something thrumming between her thighs.

“C’mon, baby, lift your hips, it’s just me,” you hum, slipping your hands up his shirt and rubbing circles into his sides, “don’t make a fuss, Leon.”

A second or two pass, and Leon lifts his hips, you wrestle with his jeans and toss them on the floor. No fucking way. No fucking way. There is no way in hell Leon has a nicer ass than her. There is no way in hell Leon doesn’t wear boxers under his jeans, and there is no way in hell this is Ashley’s real actual serious life right now. Like, none of it adds up.

“Oh,” Ashley says softly when she sees his dick. It’s small. Not big. Just—It’s just sort of there. Maybe it’s the angle he's at. Laying on his front, dick laid out on the bed like it’s a toy or something. He would look cute in a jockstrap.

“It’s cute, right?” You pinch his thigh and Leon’s toes curl in his socks. She doesn’t know if you mean his ass or his dick or his balls, they’re pretty cute too. Like. Round and everything balls should be. It’s just—It’s just a little underwhelming. “Roll over, baby.”

He listens like a good dog, rolls onto his back and pants into your mouth when you kiss him. He’s fucking out of it—This isn’t even Leon anymore, Ashley’s not sure if she likes this or not.

She’s not sure if this is how she wants him. It’s not how she’s thought about him on top of her, guiding her, holding her hips and slowing her down when she got ahead of herself.

“Do you want his face or…?” You gesture to his dick and her lust rears its ugly head, she’s willing to overlook the state she’s in to get that dick inside of her. Where it belongs. All four inches tucked away for no one to find. “Ash?”

“Oh… I don’t really know.” Ashley’s bottom lip juts out, because she has always known what she’s wanted, and she always gets what she wants—And now that it’s right in front of her, she can’t even verbalise that yes, she wants his dick so bad, she wants to die and come back to life on that tiny little thing.

“Hey, it’s okay.” You pat the space beside you and she sits, curling into your side as Leon sucks on the tip of your thumb like he's a pin-up girl. “I know it’s not much, but it’s not his fault, I was upset too when he showed me for the first time—“

“No, no—It's not that, oh my god, I’m just, like, nervous.” Ashley shivers as you trail your fingers up and down the jagged edge of her spine, like you’re swiping a credit card. Like you’re trying to open a locked door from the outside.

“Aw, Ashley, you don’t need to be nervous,” you coo, and then you grope her tit so hard she doesn’t have the time to feel nervous, she just feels out of her wits, “he totally likes you, like, I promise, just lay back, ‘kay?”

“Um, okay, I just don’t feel like I should be doing this if Leon is, like, really drunk—“ Ashley yelps as you push her back into the pillows, they’re both flat and blue and they smell like Leon.

You bunch up her skirt above her belly button, toying with the waistband of her panties as you urge Leon to press his face against her puffy pussy. When he sort of slumps into her, head flopping onto her padded thigh, you take him by the hair and force his face into her panty-clad cunt. He’s a fish hooked on a line.

“Good boy,” you praise, hooking your fingers in Ashley’s pink panties and sliding them over the swell of her perky ass and down her legs.

His tongue flicks over her swollen clit, and Ashley lets out a quiet whimper, muffled into the cupped palm of her hand, like she’s trying to keep a secret.

You busy yourself with her tits, telling her that you’ve been waiting to get your hands on them since she wandered into your peripheral. That you noticed them first, and that she shouldn’t be ashamed to show them off. It doesn’t matter what her daddy says.

You’ve got ‘em for a reason, Ashley!

She’s never had her tits played with. Duh. Like, she’s tried pinching her nipples and it’s never done much, but this—Her pussy flutters each time you pop off her hard nipples, leaving your mouth both pinker than they went in.

When her back bows off the bed, none of it is Leon’s doing, his sloppy tongue in her sloppy pussy, giving languid licks up and down her slit from her clit to her hole—It’s you and your quick tongue and your hands on her tits and oh my god, what is wrong with her?

Ashley is not a lesbian and she really likes Leon. She doesn’t know much, but she went into this threesome knowing that, and now you’ve gone and thrown it all up into the air.

She wants someone firm, and you’re giving her all that she needs. You’re kissing her mouth, dribbling your spit onto her tongue and she’s eating it up like a fucking baby bird—What is she doing?

What is Leon doing more importantly? He’s using her pussy as a fucking pillow.

“Baby, are you kidding me? Again?” You whine as you roll him over. “Leon, hello? Leon?” He’s passed out cold, and his fists curl tightly, like a baby. “You always do this to me, Leon, it’s so embarrassing, get up!”

With your spit coating her lips, and the faint tingle of aftershocks, the ghost of Leon’s lips on her clit, Ashley thinks she has a lot of things to figure out. Like, is she a lesbian? And is Leon really like that in bed? Does he even know how to, like, do things without your help? Would she have to guide him?

Ashley’s, like, so not experienced enough to guide him, and she doesn’t even know how lube works. Like, do you put it on the pussy or the dick? And is she meant to put the condom on Leon, or is he meant to do it for her?

All she knows is that you’ll be there to help her along the way, but she’s totally not a lesbian and she totally still likes Leon. Like. Seriously. Cross her heart and hope to die.

(Are all guys like that in bed? Or is it because he’s drunk? Is this legal? Is legal sex better? Would legal sex with Leon make him a little better at it?)

[spencerreidsbookfairy]

“ you're here, why? 

“To talk”

Can't say  i didn't expect this, the songs aren't exactly discreet 

Were sitting here waiting for someone to say the first word

“ i came here to apologize for my friends actions, and mine we’ve been too ashamed and embarrassed to talk about what happened at the oscars we sort of acted like it never happened until your songs came out, but i miss you i can’t sleep without you,  miss you singing in my shower not knowing i can hear you”

  i can't help but smile at his confession 

“ are you sure your team isn't just too proud to say an official apology and not try and defend their actions like they did backstage at the oscars? Please Spencer, I don’t have time for bullshit.”

“Please, meet us at dinner tomorrow”

I shake my head “ cant, i have a show tomorrow at coachella”

“  we’ll be there. Dinner afterwards?”

To be petty or to be not to be petty

“  ill see.”

Its like i can physically see him relax after i said that

The next mid day

Did i maybe wait to perform a song specifically about the bau and theyre arrogance  

Yess????

Is this maybe adding fuel to the fire???

Most likely 

As i cheerly walk up on stage crowd loud as hell which is making me happy i walk up to the mic stand

“Hi coachella.”

The crowd erupts in cheers i see in the corner of my eye the team backstage on the side of me watching me and the crowd looking surprised at how loud they are 

‘’ I wanted to start this by singing an unreleased track called u.a.b.  Yes, i know its a weird name doesn't mean anything just wanted to be weird about it”

The crowd laughs…lets hope they don't spell that backwards and somehow crack the code name

The instrumental plays, i've been working hard on my high notes and riffs so lets hope this goes well.

Yeah, you really tried

But I was planted all the lies you told me, oh

All the shit you've done

You can't outrun the way you understand me

You acted like you bought me at a bargain sale

You don't even care

You focused your frustration on a small detail

Blew it out of scale, like my ponytail

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

And I'm taking it right back

 I'm no blow up doll, no free-for-all

No slave to your decision, ooh

Gotta find a way to break the spell

To get the hell away from those who block my vision

You used me as a fragment of your grand design, hey

And you, you don't get to put me on your bottom line

You don't get what's mine, and I'm doing fine

Wow, i've never hit a note that high in my entire life and the team looks incredibly shocked, i could laugh

Said you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why would I listen?

You don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, baby

Well you don't want to see the girl I want to be

Then why, then why should I listen

If you don't want to do the things I need from you

Goodbye, goodbye

'Cause I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away, I gave it away

I'm taking it right back, hey

Taking it right back, baby

Taking it right back

 I did it. The crowd is happy im so proud of myself i walk off stage after finishing the rest of my songs 

Not even paying the team any mind i go to my management and friends getting water etc 

Spencer walks up to me  

“ that was amazing, genuinely unbelievable  you must be exhausted, are you sure you feel like going to that dinner?’’

Fuck

Fuck

FUCK 

I forgot about the dinner.

links to the other parts of famous!reader series!

https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752739792312320000/i-have-no-one-to-blame-but-you?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752706752752025600/you-made-me-miserable?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752661898593435648/apologize?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/spencerreidsbookfairy/752629582800257024/opposites-dont-attract?source=share

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

[thesingingrevolution]

is it a universal high school freshman experience to have a “where’s my hug boy” be obsessed with you and tell you he wants to marry you and texts you about how something you have in common makes him really happy and he always walked into your classroom randomly and even though he talked to others he would always smile and laugh and tease you you were intrigued since day one since he showed up to orientation day im a suit and bro looked HANDSOME and his name sounds like the name of a prince and he has the same family-type background as you so it’s lowkey perfect but it all started when you went to a sports trip to play soccer and while watching a basketball game he came to talk to you and noticed you had an interest in common based on an app you had downloaded at the time and he complimented your taste in music and also sent you a picture of when he went to see one of your favorite artists because you couldn’t and also replied to your story on a day you posted a cringy but happy video dancing to a song you loved therefore initiating the whole music convo and when he started following your then active fan account for rock and metal musicians he complimented your passion, even on his last day of school before moving back home he came to you club meeting and hugged you for the last time and told you to text him on his birthday since you always posted on the birthday of your faves but after he left you grew apart too much and never really spoke again until almost two years later your brother who is friends with him hits you with an invite for everyone to eat together in his hometown on the very day of and you agree and it was wild seeing him again and even though you attempted to speak to him later by text it never went anywhere and two years later you randomly think about that time he texted you he wanted to marry you because the convo went there and you replied with “wasn’t that already the plan” because w rizz and that was all the flirting i’ve ever done but yeah i kind of miss him tonight also i did pilates class with his aunt for several months after he left and i had no idea she was his aunt until i wore my uniform to practice one day and she told me it was where her nephew used to study

[lorephobic]

it sucks how much queer sex/expression in art gets sensationalized by the general public to the point of making the actors themselves uncomfortable when all they did was portray queerness, like as a queer person observing it happen in real time it always feels so othering when people can't just be normal about it

oh my god yeah. i’ve been thinking about it all day and obviously it's all speculation as to whether or not that's the reason barry's kind of distancing himself from saltburn, but the way people have been acting about jacob and barry after this movie is fucking crazy.

it's so annoying that straight characters get to just be characters who live and die inside of the story that they were created for. but for some reason, portraying a queer character is regarded as a sort of admission of the actor.

i think you're so right in talking about the sensationalism of queerness and i think it largely comes from the belief that queerness is something to be hidden and unveiled when the time is right. which means that any peak into a person's relationship with queer identity (in this case, barry playing a queer man and then extending this act to the pr surrounding the movie) opens them up to a line of questioning that they very well might not want to talk about. it's none of our business whether or not they're dating, and frankly it's delusional to assume that they MUST have a something romantic or sexual going on just because of the way their characters acted in saltburn.

the inability to draw lines between what's real and fiction and the pushing assumption that queerness is owed to us by people who play queer characters is so concerning. actors act. it is their job. not allowing them work-life separation is immature at best and harmful when taken to this extreme.

[coolauntlilith]

ATFC s1e8 Jerry has me fucking sick to my stomach about Simon's, "Wha- No, no! Why would I??"

I kinda am wondering if his lack of reaching Chaos Betty is maybe bc she now doesn't want him to reach her. If she's still kinda Betty, anyway.

Edit: I just finished my second rewatch and I do wonder where Golbetty is portalling him. 👀

[hauntedwoman]

as badly as i want to avoid my mom she is making it extremely difficult

[s0fter-sin]

i’ve been watching yannis marshall choreography for like 15 minutes and i’m back thinking about my dancer au

gaz suggests a pole dancing segment for the music video for price and ghost shuts it down hard, saying he doesn’t do pole. gaz calls him selfish, that he’s just saying no to spite him but ghost holds firm; not even listening to soap as he tries to reason with him and reach a compromise

soap gets to practice early like he always does, just to see ghost blasting another life by motionless in white and doing a flawless pole routine. he’s as mesmerised by him as he always is, such beautiful movements contrasted by the seemingly harsh music, and waits for him to break before teasing, “i thought you said you couldn’t do pole dancin’.”

ghost just wipes the sweat off his face with a towel. he knew he was there

he always knows when soap’s there

“i said i didn’t do pole; not that i couldn’t.”

“what’s stoppin’ you?” soap asks, genuine and innocently curious and it’s the only reason ghost doesn’t completely shut him down

“what ‘bout you?” he asks instead. “ever done pole?”

he shrugs and sets his bag down. “enough to get in a twirl or two. ‘sides, gaz’s better suited to that kinda delicate work.”

“now, that i know is bullshit,” ghost scoffs and soap tenses, expecting him to go off on another rant about his best mate (just like he waits through gaz going off on ghost) but- “i’ve seen your competition tapes; you’re plenty strong enough to work a pole.”

soap stares at him. “how have you-?”

“price,” he answers simply, throwing the towel on top of his gear and all but stalks towards him. “i like knowin’ who i’m working with; he sent me your breakdancin’ comps. if you can hold a three-fingered hollowback handstand, you can bend on a pole.”

soap sputters as ghost grips his tank top and yanks him over to the pole, setting his hands in place on the body-warmed metal; bracketing his body with his own. he guides his body through the motions; teaches him how to fall and catch himself in a spin, how to gracefully climb and hold his body in midair

soap laughs as he throws himself into a spin just to bend his legs over his head, twisting his body to latch onto the pole with knee and lean perfectly horizontal with his other leg splayed out; his arm thrown above his head

he tips his head back to catch ghost’s grin and almost drops himself as he jumps up to join him; artfully climbing above him and holding his whole weight on his hip as he flips down to look at him

soap’s breath catches at the scant distance between their faces; so close he can count the near invisible freckles on ghosts skin, his fair lashes and the deep flecks of gold in his dark eyes

ghost is just as entranced; his grin slowly fading as he looks into the light sparkling in soap’s eyes. he tips his head towards the mirrors lining the studio and they slowly turn to look at themselves; fitting perfectly together

“see?” he whispers. “we don’t look all that outta place, do we?”

“no,” soap whispers back. “we don’t.”

[ducktollers]

ai starbucks on doordash its so fucking over. if any company can afford to hire a photographer to take a picture of some cups sitting in water it is fucking starbucks ARE YOU KIDDING like are you joking. bye

[lunarharp]

wip thing...

of my bg3 avatar hellebore. i also did some casual nude studies of my 3 characters which i'll put under a cut... rather unlike me after all. (so WARNING for abrupt non-sexual full Artistic nudity lol...,,,,) (< won't be making a habit of this)

they mean the world to me

[blueskittlesart]

what are your opinions on the themes of age in botw (or loz in general tbh). bc i think botw is incredibly interesting in the sense that it seems to be somewhat concerned with the theme of age, possibly as an extension of its theme of passing time, while also having so much incredibly weird age stuff (like, implying link is 17 by not allowing him to drink alcohol and his only retort being a joke about how he’s actually ‘over a century’, but also constantly making adults hit on him) that at this point i don’t even know what the game is even like, trying to say about this theme. or why it even bothers bringing it up as a theme in-story

I think that age in botw, specifically link's age, is completely dependent on its theme of destruction and reconstruction. link's age is somewhat muddled in dialog and never actually stated outright because he doesn't KNOW how old he is. Who he was 100 years ago has been entirely lost to him along with that version of hyrule, the version that exists pre-calamity. When link's age is brought up, it's either as a joke or to draw attention to the fact that he has essentially lost 17 years of his life and is being forced to rebuild himself from the ground up. I've mentioned this before in my analysis of botw as a whole, but it's important to the overall cohesiveness of the game imo that link's character arc mirrors hyrule. pre-calamity, hyrule was well-constructed and thriving at first glance, but upon deeper analysis there were a ton of internal problems, specifically the way link and zelda were treated as the supposed saviors of the kingdom. (this isn't even going into some of the implied narrative with the sheikah, but that applies here as well.) But when he wakes up, link finds that hyrule has been destroyed by the calamity and rebuilt all over again, and in the absence of any real government, its people have still managed to come together, to form tightly-knit communities, and to continue to grow. link, similarly, wakes up a blank slate, essentially in the "destruction" phase. His journey through hyrule in botw is the rebuilding. it's him finding himself and learning to grow around the wreckage of his old life, just as hyrule has grown around the wreckage the calamity wrought in his absence. In this way, i think the idea of age becomes sort of... unimportant, i guess? when analyzed in terms of the story as a whole, because link's hundred-year loss is less about him actually aging and more about a metaphorical destruction of his past self that allows him to grow anew.

[alchemiclee]

been looking in tags for a few days now to see if anyone else found the whole high cloud quintet and related story to be a bit.....poorly written, nonsensical, contradictory, full of plot holes and loose ends, etc. apparently i'm not the only one. (and i'm not even talking about shipping stuff, because any time I saw someone mad about bad writing, someone always replies to be homophobic and laugh about failed ships. weirdos.) it could have been so good but was thrown into the garbage for the most part (IF you noticed all the plot holes and contradiction. if not, then it's a fine enough story tbh. I expect most people to see it on surface level and not read all the little hidden lore bits and try to piece it together like my autistic brain did. which is ok! enjoy it if you liked it and ignore me 😆)

[hella1975]

ive got an essay due at 3pm tomorrow and ive not even looked at it i am so so unserious about my degree and by the grace of some higher being i somehow keep managing to crawl through it's actually getting a bit funny

[angeloftrumpets]

i think about this picture a LOT

EDIT: WARNING I JUST INFODUMP IN THE TAGS IM SORRY ???