#just for me to find out that I'm the only one checking in!!!!!!! and now that they've relapsed it's like so no one cares anymore!!!

[spencerscoven]

the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, he never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

[ask-spiderpool]

Hey mod, are you okay? It’s been a while since you posted (no judgement!) and I just wanted to see if something was wrong. Love you and I hope you stay strong🫶🏼

Bless you anon! I appreciate you checking in! I don't post a lot of personal updates here, but I have been going through the wringer lately... hough.

Lately I've been battling with anxiety, you know, same as everyone. It's kind of made things that I used to enjoy kind of stressful for me. Everything becomes stressful for me. Even not having things to stress about makes me stressed. I'm at my most Peter Parkeriest, in the worst sort of a way.

I thought it was a brain thing – that it was all in my head. I have a new, stressful job, and a stressful living situation, and some family issues I'm dealing with. It'll pass. So I kind of tried to power through, until my body shut down on me last year. And as it turns out, when I got checked out by the doc, it's not just a brain thing. I have a tumor (her name is Lamar, and she's benign, buuut...) she's producing 5x the normal amount of stress hormone in my body. The doctors think it's insane. I think it's hilarious. I feel like it's some kind of joke.

I've been battling this ridiculous chronic stress for years, thinking it was all in my head, but actually, biologically, I'm an overflowing reservoir of stress, and it's something that can be measured in my bloodstream. And it's been going on for years!

So, lately I've been devoting a lot of time to forcing myself to relax. Doctors orders. I can't get stressed about things. Every day I have to effectively diffuse a bomb. And the bomb is me. I'm so pumped up with involuntary stress, and I have to devote my time to keeping it at a manageable level. And so there are a lot of backflips I have to do to keep myself human right now, and not turn into a bomb.

See... posting to the blog doesn't exactly calm me down. It makes me anxious, most of the time. So I've been telling myself it's okay. Only post when you feel good. You have enough things to worry about, and the blog can't be one another thing to worry about. It can only be for fun. If it doesn't feel like fun, don't do it.

I need to do a million little calming activities to function. The blog used to calm me. But it doesn't, anymore. I still love it, and I still have so many scripts I'm excited to do, but... I just have to be patient with myself, right now. I can't bug my head over something that can wait. It can wait. Right now isn't the time. My health is the most important thing. I can't get that back, if I lose it.

Right now I'm about keeping my head above water. Keeping calm. Doing meditative things, that aren't necessarily productive... (trust me, I am SO upset about not being productive. I miss it a lot) but they force me to take it slow and force me to not worry. I'm learning the banjo (she calms me), and I spend a lot more time in nature, having staring contests with ducks and pigeons, and befriending beetles and bugs.

I'm a very positive person, and I know I'll make it through, and I love myself for all the effort I'm making to keep myself from breaking. Because I know if I didn't force myself to calm down, I could snap like an elastic band. I – I don't want to break, like I did last year. I need to be good to myself. And relaxing is an effort. It takes a lot for me. And certain calming routines work for a little while, and then stop working, and I need to make the effort all over again to find something new. It's kind of insane how much time I need to calm back down again. I remember, once upon a time, it being baseline.

Luckily there's a surgical solution, so hopefully I'll be normal again soon, and there won't be any more bees buzzing in my brain!

I hope you'll all be patient with me! And hopefully I'll make it out alive and stronger than ever, soon.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Show And Tell- Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: When matt takes your virginity and shows you how to make yourself feel better about not being so experienced in the sex world

Warnings: Smut, Inexperienced!sub!reader, Experienced!Dom!Matt, praising, cursing, use of Y/N, Oral (fem receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex (Safe sex is great sex, cause you don’t want that late text that I think I'm late text- Lil Wayne), TW! brief talk of emotionally absent parents!

A/N: i absolutely love writing sweet Matt, but what i love writing more is MATT THE MF MUNCHHHH!!

psa: DONT STEAL MY WORK!! THIS BELONGS TO ME MYSELF AND I!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ever since Middle school Nick, Matt, Chris, and I have been inevitable. Their mother, Mary Lou, has always taken me in as her own, considering I was the youngest out of 5 in my family, and my parents had me later in life, as soon as I learned how to care for myself, they quit raising me and only came through in times they ‘needed’ to be parents. Mary Lou was the woman I called my mother. whenever they went on a family vacation I always went with them. To the mall? I went. She basically had Quadruplets. When the triplets moved to LA, we were all over 18, and I was more than ready to leave my parent's house even though I had pretty much moved in with them for how much I stayed over, so I moved with them. I offered to get an apartment close by, but all of them collectively agreed and even argued with me about it, so now we all live in the same house.

Today was pretty much a normal day in the house, very calm, no one was filming, and we just did our own things. Matt and I had no plans, Chris went out shopping with some friends, and Nick had meetings and then dinner plans with Tara for a collab idea which left Matt and I at the house.

“Cant believe that you and my mother BOTH collectively agreed to let me walk out of the house looking like that” Matt said laughing showing me a memory that popped up on his moms Facebook page.

“To be fair you were dead set on wearing that entire outfit and your mom and I both knew we couldn't talk you out of that” I said laughing back and throwing my hands up in defense.

“That's when I dated Cassie too, how gross,” he said giving himself the Ick.

“She was the town whore, what'd you expect,” I say giggling at my comment.

“You know I never asked, whatever happened to Jackson? I just recalled he spread some rumor about him taking your virginity, and a bunch of other stuff, and you came to the house crying and Mom was comforting you and you never spoke about that again” he looks over at me as my head hung low looking at my hands.

Jackson was a guy I ‘dated’ junior year of high school, he took me on one date, it was very nice and he seemed amazing, though I should've listened to Nick when he told me Jackson was no good. After our date instead of taking me home he insisted on talking more and drove to the park in the middle of the city. His intentions were not pure. Jackson tried every which way to get me in the backseat, I rejected many many times that night and made some excuse on how I was on my period and that immediately grossed him out. Come to find out, as soon as we got back to school he spread a rumor around the entire school that he had taken my virginity and told the school I was into weird kinks. I knew I couldn't go to my mother about that because she would have taken me directly to the health clinic to ‘check if I was still pure’ so I went to Mary Lou, i and made sure to tell her to tell the boys not to bring it up to me and try their best to shut it down.

“I uh thought i told you about what happened?” i lied and nervously laughed.

“Nope,” he said popping the ‘p’ “I'm pretty sure I would have remembered something that important to where my own mother had to come to me, Nick, and Chris, and tell us not to talk to you about it, plus I mean it's been 4 years if you don't wanna talk about it I understand,” he said reassuring me.

I've always felt comfortable with all 3 of them, and always had a special relationship with all of them, and trust them with my life. I never went to them about this because I was embarrassed I was a virgin, I wasn't gonna tell them I didn't lose my virginity, considering both Matt and Chris came to me about sex advice I didn't want them to look at me any different for not being experienced enough so I lied and told them that Jackson did take my virginity but I wasn't into the weirder stuff Jackson accused me of.

“Fuck” I mutter under my breath. “Okay so, I just wanna say one thing before I tell you what actually happened between Jackson and me” I look back at him with nerve piercing through my body.

“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything” Matt adjusts himself to face me.

“So don't judge me,” I start taking a deep breath. “So Jackson made up that entire rumor,” I take my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m extremely confused” he scratched the back of his head laughing.

“God this is embarrassing” I place my head in my hands “fuck it, so he didn't take my virginity at all, and obviously the kink thing was a lie” I look up at him who still has a puzzled look on his face.

“So if Jackson didn't take your virginity then who did? Cause you basically swore off dating after him” he raises his eye brows in confusion.

“No one, Matt, I'm a uh Virgin” I drop my head down in embarrassment fiddling with my fingers.

“No fucking way, you gave both Chris and me AMAZING sex advice, stop fucking with me Y/N/N” he said laughing.

“Matt I'm being for real,” I shoot him an awkward smile “and please the sex advice ain't nothing, I know what I would like so I kinda made an assumption and by the looks of it, I'm guessing it worked” I nervously laughed.

“Holy shit,” his eyes go wide “why haven't you, you know?”

“It's hard for me to trust people, especially with something like that,” I shrugged my shoulders “When I hit puberty, my mother gave me a ‘save yourself till marriage’ talk instead of informing me of my body she scared me from sex, but I had gone to your mom one day when you three were hanging with Nate and she actually gave me that kinda talk and more or less told me to always make sure I felt safe and in the hands of someone I trust, and Jackson did neither of those things” I continue to fiddle with my fingers.

“You trust me right?” he says curiously

“Matt don't be stupid, yes I do” I lightly giggle. “Why is that even a question?”

“ah fuck it, never mind” he brushes it off.

“No, no, I told you something that no one knows so come on speak up,” I lightly push his arm.

“I was gonna say I could teach you a couple things about sex but i ain't too sure you'd be down for that anyway” he shrugged his shoulders turning his body back towards the TV.

“What if I was down?” I look at him through my lashes.

His head jerks in my direction, “actually?” his eyes light up.

“Matt do you know how embarrassing it is to be an almost 21-year-old who's never had sex,” a soft giggle escaped my lips.

“Have you ever like, touched yourself before?” he said slightly cringing at his words.

I was a little taken aback by his curiosity “I mean yeah, once or twice” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Did you like ever finish from that?” he shifts his body back in my direction. “I know this sounds a bit invasive but I promise if you want to do this I have a reason for asking these questions” he placed his hand on my knee.

“No… it just um” I swallow the lump in my throat “I just couldn't..”

“So you've never experienced anything sexual?” the curiosity in his voice makes me feel safer and know he's not judging me and is actually caring enough to ask and not just crawling on top of me and getting down to it.

“Nope,” I say softly

He slowly nods “Do you want to learn?” his voice goes soft.

“H-how?” I stutter out.

“Obviously if you feel comfortable enough with it, I could be the one to show you, If you catch my drift” he sends me a reassuring smile.

“Y-you would take my virginity?” I ask nervously.

“Only if you want me to” his voice trails off

“What about Nick and Chris? God that would be awkward if they walked in or something, oh my god I don't want them to think any-” he cuts me off

“Woah slow down, it's okay, they won't be back till like 9, and it's 4 now, we'll be okay kid” he laughed rubbing soft circles with his thumb over my knee. “Do you want to do this?”

I nod softly. “No this is important to you, I want your verbal consent that this is okay” he moves closer to me.

“Yes, please, I want this, all of this,” I say softly adjusting my body closer to his.

He smiles leaning closer to my face and softly pressing his lips against mine. My eyes fall shut and I turn into jello as I feel the way his hand that was once on my knee moves up toward my hip. A small smile creeps upon both of our lips. I softly pull away.

“Can we not do this on the couch?” I say laughing a little

“Absolutely,” he stands up almost immediately and picks me up bridal style walking into his room and kicking the door open as I giggle like a kid in a candy store.

He carefully sets me down on his blue silk sheets crawls on top of me and presses his lips onto mine once again making a soft groan travel between our lips.

“Can I take this off?” he says softly playing with the hem of my shirt.

“Yes” I bite my bottom lip

He smiles down at me and pulls my shirt off leaving me in my bra. He hooks his finger under my bra strap rubbing his finger up and down just looking down at me. “You're so beautiful. I don't ever tell you much” his comment makes a soft pink shade appear on my cheeks.

He leans down again kissing me and pointing his tongue out for permission to enter, my mouth opens slightly as his tongue explores my mouth, and this time his hands start to grab at my covered breast. “You can take it off, Matt” I giggle between kisses.

He gave me no response but his left hand held my lower back and his right unclasped my bra letting it fall right off my shoulders. He pulled away from kissing me and looked down at my breast in awe. “God you're Fucking beautiful” he mutters.

His mouth begins leaving kisses down from my jawline to my collarbone and stopping at my breast looking up at me through his lashes almost asking for permission without asking. I shoot him a smile and nod and his tongue licks softly across my nipple sending shivers down my spine. He smirks to himself attaching his mouth to one of my nipples and slightly tugging at my other. He sucks and nips at my nipples taking them between his teeth every now and again. My breathing gets heavier at the sensitivity and my head falls back as a soft whimper falls from my mouth.

He lifts his head up and places himself between my legs to unbuckle my shorts, shimmy them down my legs, and throws them with the pile of clothes next to the bed. He admires my choice of underwear today, smirking as they're unironically his favorite color, purple, with a tiny little bow right up top. He hooks his finger at the top of them sliding back and forth before sliding them down my legs leaving me bare beneath him.

“such a pretty fucking pussy” he groans out. he leans his head down and spits down onto my aching pussy. using his thumb he slowly moves up and down.

“Holy fuck” I gasp out.

Matt chuckles and moves his body down where his head is now between my legs. His thumb is still slowly going up and down he begins kissing down my thighs on both sides. “I want you” he places another kiss on my thigh “to tell me” Another kiss “What feels good to you alright?” he places a kiss right above my clit.

“O-okay” I say nervously

“And please don't be afraid to tell me to stop” he gives me a reassuring smile.

I nod sending him the same warm smile. He starts to place a soft kiss on my clit before flattening his tongue on my pussy and licking a stripe up and groaning once the taste of me hits his tongue.

“Oh, Matt” My breathing hitches and I throw my head back in pleasure.

His tongue begins to flick up at a faster pace making moans spill out of my mouth, his eyes are fixated on me and how my body reacts to his mouth pleasuring me.

“Fuck you're so fucking good at this” My fingers run through his hair forcing his head deeper into me.

He moans into me sending vibrations through my body as my hips jerk up and my eyes roll back. His lips attach to my clit sucking on it a little causing a squeal to fall from my mouth.

“Fuck i-i I think I'm gonna cum” I stutter out as an unfamiliar knot forms in the pit of my stomach

“Mhm” he mutters before lifting his head “Let it go sweet girl” he lowers his head again taking my clit between his teeth and flicking upwards on it.

“Oh my FUCK” I scream out when that knot snapped a wave of euphoria pierced my body and my orgasm dripped out of me making Matt move his body to watch it happen.

He wiped his mouth using his arm smiling “you okay baby?” he chuckled.

“Fuck” I breathe out “If that's why people are sex addicts I see why god damn that was amazing” I smiled up at him.

“I'm not even done yet” he smirks lifting his shirt over his head and throwing it across the room.

“Are you 100% positive you want this?” he asks as he stands up removing his belt.

“This is the first decision I've ever made that I'm 100% positive I won't regret,” I say as I watch him remove his pants and free his cock with his tip red and throbbing for attention.

He climbs back and moves me farther up on the bed. “Fuck there's no way that's gonna fit in me, that's fucking massive,” I say as my eyes stare at his cock.

“It'll fit baby” he chuckles “shit I don't have a condom,” he says rummaging through his bedside table.

“I'm on birth control, you don't need one” I smile up at him.

“Are you sure?” he smirks.

“Yes Matt,” I smile batting my lashes up at him.

“Okay then” he brings his hand up to his mouth and spits in it before gliding his now wet hand to coat his aching cock. “I gonna go slow, inch by inch and you tell me when to move, and tell me if it hurts too much I'll stop immediately,” he says aligning his cock with my entrance.

“Okay,” I breathe out.

As his tip slowly enters me I hiss. “Are you okay?” he says with a concerned look on his face.

“I'm okay just hurts” I reply biting my lower lip.

He slowly enters another couple of inches. Watching how my face nuzzled up at the new feeling. Then he slides in another few inches. After a couple of minutes, he's fully bottomed out. “Look at that, you're doing so fucking amazing,” he says adjusting himself closer to my face and brushing loose strands out of my face.

“Y-you can move,” I say nodding slowly.

He smiles before slowly thrusting out and moving towards my hips as the pain I once felt turns into pleasure in a matter of seconds.

“Oh, matt fuck faster please” I plead gripping his biceps for support.

“God you're so fucking tight” his pace speeds up as he lowers his body and begins kissing my neck and groaning into me.

“S-so fucking big” I moan out.

He rolls his hips towards mine and slams them into me. His grunts become harsher. “Fuck” he growled in my ear. “I love the way you feel wrapped around me” he moans in my ear which is almost a whimper.

“Matt” I scream out as his cock finally and repeatedly kisses my G-spot.

“Someone close eh?” he lifts up sadistically grinning at me.

I nod vigorously as my legs begin twitching and shaking around his waist and that knot forms in my stomach for the second time tonight.

“Cum all over my fucking dick baby, I know you can do it,” he said as his thrusts become sloppy.

With just his words that knot snapped in my stomach and formed a white ring around the base of his cock as my cum coats his cock. With a couple more thrusts he nuzzles his head in my neck and paints my walls a shade of white. He slowly pulls out careful not to hurt me.

“Fuck you're amazing” I breath out coming down from my euphoric state.

“Yeah? You did fucking amazing,” he smiles down at me laying next to me and pulling me into a cuddled skin-to-skin hug.

“Thank you matt” I mutter into his chest.

“No problem sweetheart” he kissed the top of my head. “You know I'd do anything for you” he softly whispers making me smile and nuzzle into him more.

“Do you want me to run you a nice bath? Or you wanna go get food? What do you wanna do, cause we got about 2 hours till Nick and Chris come home” he pulls away looking at me.

“We can shower and I can cook for us” I smile at him.

“Perfect” he smiles at me and picks me up bridal style again to carry me to the bathroom.

The way he cared for me, I knew I made the right decision. Losing my virginity to the man I knew I could trust.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A/N pt 2: TY TO THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS!! BECAUSE THIS WAS VERY FUN TO WRITE!! anyways i hope you guys are having an amazing evening, afternoon, morning, or night!! and i love you guys!! 🩷🩷

[w1shb0n3z]

Alright, so hear me out

(this is another long one. Like. Seriously. It has 2.6k words.)

*yes, I edited this like 5 mins after I posted it just to add some more, oops

Post cannon Labru where Laios tries to help Kabru regain weight

TW: ED, Body Dysmorphia, Fat-phobia, Gender Dysphoria

It turns out to he a huge body image thing. Like Kabru develops a bit of an ED after he gains his weight back and tries to stay "the perfect weight" and major body dysmorphia. But! It's very sweet because hand feeding, of course, and self-acceptance.

I imagine Kabru's blue eyes get brought up when Laios is like "oh, you don't like that about yourself? :( you're so wonderful! What else could you possibly not like! Surely not those eyes ^^" or something

Plus! I'm 98% sure that Laios gains some weight post cannon, so his wrestler build gets softer, which, yay! We love that here! But this comes with its positives and negatives. (Dont he scared by how big the negative paragraph is)

Positive: Kabru has an example of having a healthy relationship with yourself and your body

Negatives (and hold on) TW btw: at a certain point of Kabru's weight gain/ body acceptance journey, where he gets obsessed with keeping "the perfect body" and does everything in his power not to gain anymore, his own twisted view of himself spills over to Laios. He starts to view Laios as a sort of slob or careless person because he gained weight after the dungeon and gained an extra 5-ish pounds while helping Kabru gain. Because Laios can and will encourage Kabru to eat by eating with him with a smile on his face.

What if someone finds out about Kabru's purging?

Yes, Kabru has purged a few times while he was at his lowest. And no, Laios doesn't catch him in the act. He doesn't know until someone tells him about it. Kabru just keeps it to himself with a tinge of guilt. Someone else finds out. I can't decide who yet, but if it were:

Chilchuck - he'd be familiar with his topic because one of his daughters went through the same thing. He keeps secret as per Kabru's request but gives to Kabru straight. He tells him vomiting hat much rots your teeth and only has negative impacts in the future. With Chil being big and tall for his race's standards and him canonically watching his own weight, he talks Kabru through this whole body image thing. Maybe not in the exact way Kabru wants, but in the way he needs

Senshi - he's SO against this. He tries to father Kabru, but his own lack of understanding for why Labru feels this way gets in the way of progress. He urges Kabru to eat and tells Laios what's goin on in hopes of figuring out what all of this is about, accidentally spilling the beans and leading to conflict between Laios and Kabru

Marcille - she doesn't really get the ED thing, but she gets not liking your body (since she never fit in with her "age group" while growing up and wished she physically presented like them). She also tells Kabru that throwing up rots his teeth and says it's bad for your mana and junk. Shes very offput by this whole thing, but she tries. She doesn't tell Laios...on purpose. (Falin also finds out becuase the guilt Marcille has from telling that secret ears her alive)

Falin - my girl does NOT understand. But she's here to empathize. She ends up being huge in Kabru's healing journey. She tries to check in on bim every now and then and uses her own transformation to promote body acceptance

Izutsumi - she doesn't know what to do. She's 17 goddamn it. So when she hears Kabru throwing up she just assumes he's sick, but when she keeps hearing it she gets a little stressed about him. She goes "he's just weird" and mentions it in conversation to someone else, most likely Marcille (which probably led to Marcille finding out in the earlier paragraph)

Mickbell...somehow - is like "dude wtf" and tells Rin about it since he knows there close. He's worried, yeah, but he doesn't think its really his problem. Especially since the two fo them aren't close like that.

Kuro - he finds out and tells Rin as well, he also tells Kabru that he looks fine. He mentions it to Mickbell, yeah, but in a "Will he be okay? :(" way

Rin - devastated. She initially gives Kabru a hard talk...which makes him worse, but hey! She tried. Rin then thinks its becuase of the shame of dying many times and tries to comfort Kabru again. Doesn't work. She tries to get him to eat the things he likes. He eats them, but she can sense the guilt from Kabru. They then have a heart to heart becuase Rin can't stand to see her best friend suffer like this and assures him that he looks fine as often as he needs

Holm - he takes a simular approach as Falin but gets a little more involved. He understands it on paper, but can't image what actually having these issues is like. Yes, he also informs Rin and is the one that told her to try to speak to Kabru in a less...prickly manner about this touchy subject

Daya - She doesnt realise what Kabru was trying to achieve by puking. So she just advises him not to do so and tells Rin about the strange behavior.

How does this affect non-platonic Labru?

Easy!

Well for starters! If they were boning before, they aren't now LMAO

Partly because of Kabru's own body image being trash and his attraction to Laios (temporarily) going to shit after Laios gained some weight to encourage Kabru. Damn that internalized fat-phobia. Neither one of them seems to have a clue what's going on. Let word, seems.

Kabru knows his view of Laios just isn't the same, but he doesn't let it be known that he's aware of this.

Does he feel bad? Yeah. But he only feels bad because he doesn't feel bad. He feels as though he's a shitty boyfriend for harboring such disgust for his partner's figure

Laios catches Kabru stealing glances at himself in the mirror. Staring just a little too long. Laios deduces that Kabru's feeling a little self-conscious after some hard thought.

So, of course, he makes sure to be extra careful about his words. He'd totally be like that one meme (which I can't find) that goes: "damn girl, that ass is wide" "what??" "I didn't want to say fat and trigger your eating disorders :/"

Plus, on the not boning thing, they're busy. You got a king and his advisor, they're not gonna be cranking it up every night! They simply sleep together, in a literal sense most nights anyways, so more sleep isn't anything bad

Additionally, I don't believe Laios has a high sex drive at all. (I personally think he's on the asexual spectrum, maybe because I'm ace, but still)

Kabru won't initiate a thing at the moment, it's up to Laio's sporadic desires to get things going. (It never gets going)

What if Laios discovers Kabru's feelings towards him and the purging?

He's hurt, simply put. He can't understand why Kabru dislikes his body, Laios can't understand why his own body would be such a turn off now.

In the non-platonic vers Laios tries to become "sexy" again. ....He fails horribly and ends up making a fool out if himself. At first he's like, "well monsters do this to attract mates" right after he feels as though he needs to inprove upon himself. Then he goes "no... Kabru isnt a monster, and im not either (unfortunately)"

He pushes that silly thought aside and tries to find out *why* Kabru is turned off by his looks now. His face? No.. His hair? Just got it cut. His figure? ...but why?

Laios goes right up to Kabru and confronts him about it. Kabru being the slippery bitch that he is denies it and goes "lol wtf haha! I luv u bae and there's nothing wrong with u!! ur so sexy and hot haha..."

This, inevitably, confused the shit out of Laios and he asks for honesty. Kabrus actions aren't exactly aligning with his words, and something needs to he done.

[Okay, let's be real here. If Kabru didn't want Laios to know how he felt, Laios' ass would NOT know lmao. This is just for the bit]

Now the purging? Laios is like "dude what? :(" he doesn't understand it. Nope. Not at all. He tires to he supportive, but he really doesn't know what to do with this. It's not like there's a bulimia monster, so he has no real frame of reference.

He's all "but you look fine how you are :(" and "I like the weight on you!" or even "did you know that [this species of monster] finds fat attractive? ,:D"

He means so so well, and Karbu knows it. Laios really is just a dog of a man.

Laios also tries to get Kabru to promise to stop. We know how that went. Karbu agreeing just to do it behind Laios' back because he knows Laios won't find out. He'll cut back on it, yeah, but he has his weak moments.

Eventually, Laios makes sure to only have Kabru serve his favorite meals. That should keep him from puking it up! And Karbu stops after a while. But only because his health is on the decline.

What else?

Two words: hand. feeding.

Kabru throws up? He gets his favorite meals so he won't. Kabru keeps checking his figure? Less mirrors in the caslte and more compliments. Kabru not eating enough or skipping meals? Simple. Laios makes sure he eats.

And how? A little less of Laios sensually slipping a fork full of decedent chocolate cake past Kabru's lips and a little more than a simple "here comes the airplane"

It starts off as Laios seeing Kabru taking smaller bites and being like "oh! Let me show you how to fill your fork! ^^" and then him taking Kabru's fork, impaling a bunch of assorted foods onto said fork, then handing it back to Kabru.

Then it sort of devolved (...evolved?) Into Kabru begrudgingly letting Laios feed him like a toddler while no one else ot looking. My boy Kabru does NOT know how to say no to this autistic man properly.

Laios was like "would it help if I just fed you?" And karbu replied something like "haha! It just might!" And of course Laios did not pick up on that God level sarcasm and went "cool, Let's try it then" and Kabru, wanting to appease Laios said "cool!". Bro was punching air.

(Yes, Laios said stuff like "good job buddy!" "You're doing so well!" "Its tasty, right?" Almost every bite)

In the non-platonic world, Laios would have Karbu sit ever so close to him as he was fed, maybe even in his lap. And of course Karbu would get a peck on the cheek after every bite. And the whole process may or may not turn Laios on. Especially when they're dining on monster. Whoops.

....anything else?

This all ties in with the absurd standards that was set for Karbu and the insecurities he hides within himself.

The whole blue-eye-spawn-of-a-demon thing was already enough for him. But being raised by that moody ass elf was a whole nother thing.

Milsiril, his adoptive elf mom, raises children like she has a monopoly in daycares. She's a serial foster fr. All them damn kids. Raising them like pets becuase you want something to love and depend on you. (I love Milsiril btw)

Anyways.

Kabru was his mom's favorite since his features were unique. Im talkin big bright blue eyes contrasting with rich dark skin, in particular. Plus, he was so sociable! All of his siblings looked up to him in one way or another. He was the star child.

And, you know that thing about elves being twinks, right? When ever Milsiril would check up on Karbu's health, she would use this old elven chart depicting the "average/desirable/suggested" height, weight, and muscle tone for diffrent short-lived races at diffrent ages/stages of life.

Safe to say these charts and texts were based off of elven standards, so everyone was thought to be slimmer, lighter, and more toned than normal. Plus, they're old lol. Instead of updating her charts and buying some from the diffrent cultures and races, she keeps her old one becuase she legit just forgets to replace it and hasn't had any "major problems" while raising her kids with that information so she doesn't think to change it.

What in trying to say is!

Kabru was raised with unrealistic body goals, and when he used to deviate from those arbitrary statistics during childhood he'd be put on diets and stuff.

Also, What if Kabru was transmasc?

Especially when he was a teen, even gaining a little wait made him go nuts. He couldn't get the words "unhealthy" out of his head and started associating it with the word "fat". His mind likes to play tricks on him when he's in the mirror. Exaggerating his figure and making him panic.

So! When he was sick and tired after that weird ass dungeon trip that changed his whole world and he came back to find himself thin as a pin, he tweaked.

He logically hated it because it was unhealthy, but a part of him was satisfied. With the added stress of becoming a Kings advisor, he started to crack under the pressure, manifesting in an obsession with himself. When he started to gain weight back he was brought right back to those check ups he had with Milsiril and those 2, maybe 3 times he was put onto diets in his youth. He really feared he was getting fat and he would just stare into the mirror and feel his flesh beneath his fingertips, searching for some sort of confirmation. All he felt was a bit of a squish, a bit of a give, and that's all he needed.

It was too much for him. His body was wrecked in his eyes. He's supposed to he fit and lean and thin and perfect. How could that be perfect? He looks in the mirror in his private study, wasting the time he could've been spending planning new city infrastructure or working out the kinks in trade. But no. He's here, in his dimly lit room, looking at how imperfect he's become in his eyes. How unhealthy he is his mom's eyes. How disgusting he is in his birth mothers eyes.

He had to fix it. The wound rubs deep, dar past the dermis. And, I guess, much like other wounds that cut a chasm into the skin, you don't really feel it once it severs your nerves. You don't really notice until you see the big, gaping, bleeding, notch where you used to be.

Lol anyways

Whoo boy. He is in hell. He feels like gaining weight makes him look "softer" and more feminine. He hates it, yes. But he tries his best not to let it effect his wardrobe. This whole weight journey really rehydrated his gender dysphoria.

He's used to looking a little androgynous, but with his new weight going to his stomach, hips, and thighs, he just feels as though his silhouette is becoming more girly.

Kabru is found training and working out more. Anything to get his body more boxy again.

He spends more time making sure he looks presentable. Even waking up a little earlier to ensure he vouge cover ready. (Well, I mean, as vouge ready as perpetual business casual can be)

And how does it end?

It takes some time, but Kabru heals. He's 10 pounds heavier than when we were first introduced to him, but he doesn't mind anymore.

It was a long journey full of all sorts of denail and shame, but he got there.

He's still the Light Yagami coded perfect chivalrous boy. He always has been. And Laios loves him all the same. Platonically or not.

Laios was essential in Karbu learning to let go of those impossible ideal and unreachable standards. Laios does not give a fuck afterall, he thinks all human bodies are unintresting beautiful! That dude does not judge. Rember him talking about the orc women in one of the monster tidbit sections? He's about body acceptance and neutrality.

Kabru grew to love his body, not just tolderate it or like it because someone else does. And if it tickles you, he liked the extra pounds Laios gained in the end, too. And if you're here for non-platonic Labru, then Laios may have became a bit of a feeder and has a tiiiiny food kink. Plus, Laios is a huge fan of the squish and Kabru likes how warm Laios is.

I just want to add this in here, also hecuase ive seen it before and i agree, but Laios seems like the type to give dutch ovens. He shows love like a big brother and its horrible (affectionate). This passes Karbu off SO BAD and it's hilarious. He has to sit down and have a very direct and serious talk about "getting too comfortable". And Laios would sit there the entire time like a sad dog and nod along.

Kabru and Laios also wrestle. No debate. They do it to spar, Laios does it for fun, Kabru does it to make Laios shut up. It's great!

Sorry this took so long lmao,, I legit just kept forgetting to write this

This was just word vomit. I've lost the plot somewhere along the way, I fear

[f1bordeaux]

The String That Binds Us. (Prologue) | ln4, cl16

You fell in love with this sport all because of him. It would be selfish not to thank that boy for his help in getting you here today, even if you both ended on rocky terms. However, after finding yourself in the same paddock as your childhood best friend, your mentor, your first true love, and the boy who left you for the bigger picture, you realize that he wants nothing to do with you. So, as fate has it, perhaps you'll end up in the arms of someone else. Or maybe, just maybe, that string that has been tied to the two of you together since birth will pull you back into eachothers lives. Warnings: none Pairings: Lando Norris x Reader, Charles Leclerc x Reader Word Count: 769 Poetry style | Story style A/n: I have returned with yet another series >:) this has been rolling around in my mind and yes its a super simple, done before, run down prompt but I promise to make it worth wild! I feel as though my writing has improved since my last series(which i'm gonna go rewrite) so please enjoy! Ill update as quickly as possible. This is just the prologue so look out for chapter 1 soon, and let me know if you all would be interested in me posting this on Wattpad for easier reading! Much love! Prologue | Chapter 1

prologue; y/n.

There was simply no way, not in this world with all of its coincidences and twists of fate, that things did not happen for a reason. From the minute you’re born until the day you die, there is a reason for everything. An invisible string runs through each and every one of your actions, no matter how little or grand they may be. You were sure of it. There were so many instances you could think of. When you failed that math test and got put back into a different class-the one where you met your first boyfriend who you no longer speak of. When you visited the beach one Summer all the way across the ocean in the United States, and met a girl from your hometown who ended up becoming your life long friend you attended university with. And perhaps the most vital one, when you grew up next door to a boy, only a year older than you, who possessed a love for cars and all things involving them. He would sculpt your life into one of his own, beginning from only the age of three. The two of you would form a shared love, a shared passion, for one sport. However, you found more interest in the mechanical side of things while he preferred to take the wheel. Still, you often wonder how your life would have played out, what you would have done, where you would have gone, who you would have become without him. What would have happened to you if he didn’t live next door? You could never even picture it. Especially now, fresh from university with a degree in automotive engineering hanging on your wall. But the craziest connection of them all? Getting an offer to work in the same sport as your neighbor-no, your childhood best friend. You just couldn’t believe it.

“Y/n you’re joking.” Sophia said on the afternoon the offer popped up in your inbox. She sat on the beanbag chair you used to have in your dorm. You were laying down in bed, lazily scrolling through Twitter before deciding to check your inbox. Now, you were sitting up straight, hand cupping your mouth as you read the email. “Let me see!”

You spun the laptop around, watching her eyes dart across the screen. “It’s not real, there is no way.”

But it was. The email would turn into a phone call, the phone call would turn into a headquarters visit, the visit would turn into a contract. Soon, only a few months after your January graduation, you would be in the Formula 1 paddock, clad in red, tending to the Ferrari livery.

You called Lando only a few weeks before the season started. The two of you hadn’t spoken in a while.

“Hello?”

“Lando, hey.” You scratched the back of your neck. How would he take it? Would he even care at all? Why were you calling with how things ended between the two of you?

There was a second of silence, although it felt like minutes. “Y/n, it’s been a minute. I heard you graduated. Congrats.”

“Oh? Who told you?”

“Mom. You know she's still best friends with yours.”

“Right,” You sighed. He didn’t like your Instagram post that compiled all your grad-photos. Of course he’d only heard it involuntarily. “How have you been?”

“Good.” He responded. “Just preparing for the season, you know?”

“That's actually what I was calling about,” Your heart was pounding. You were so excited to tell him, to let him know that not only did he make it into his dream field, but so did you. “I got a job.”

“Cool. Where at?”

“Ferrari.”

The silence that hung over the line only a little while ago returned. “Like at a shop somewhere in the UK?”

Not exactly the celebration you were hoping for. “No, uh, in F1. I’ll be in the paddock working on either Leclerc’s or Sainz’s car.”

“Oh.” He sniffled. “How’d you manage a job like that straight out of uni?”

“I applied. Didn’t think I would get it but here we are.”

“Well I guess I’ll see you around then.”

And that was it, your big call, your big announcement, all concluded with a ‘see you around’ like it was a conversation to be had in a school yard. You were hurt, your childhood best friend chalking your achievements up to something not worth being impressed about, but you didn’t have time to think about it. You had a job to do and damnit, you were sure you’d be doing it the best.

[shaunashipman]

I'm a new 9-1-1 viewer (binge watched the first 6 seasons like two weeks before the new one came out and been watching season 7 as it comes out) and I'm so glad I found your blog because it annoys me how most of the conversation around the show is always about b*ddie and I really needed to find people who weren't b*ddie shippers. Like, I get why people ship it even if I don't particularly see it or agree with it but they're always trying to prove how this plot point or the other points at them becoming canon next episode and it's so annoying? Especially now that Tommy is in the picture because I think he's such a great LI for Buck and has so much endgame potential but they're all talking about him being a "stepping stone" for their ship and completely ignoring how this is a chance for him to be in a loving, stable relationship in the long run, something he absolutely deserves.

Honestly sometimes I feel like b*ddie shippers don't even care or like Eddie and Buck, they just want them to kiss onscreen and ignore their well written arcs just because they don't end up in them being canon (which honestly after seven seasons of the same clownery they should have learnt by now that maybe it's just not happening and that's okay! they're well thought out, fully fleshed characters that don't need to be involved romantically to have a satisfying storyline!)

welcome to the fandom, and my blog 👋👋👋

it is unfortunate that the show has so many great characters and dynamics that get consistently drowned out by a single fanon ship. i get it if you're just here for b*ddie, but to make a big fuss over losing a single scene in another couple's big episode? when you still got something? sometimes you need a reality check that the show is actually about other people too

fandom is not about hunting for hints that your ship is going canon. like, i have never seen a fandom that seems to spend more time "proving" their ship is gonna go canon than actually, you know, doing fandom stuff. (i was not in spn/destiel, idk what nonsense went on there) we're supposed to ignore what the TPTB say while we play with our dolls because it doesn't matter, not ignore what they say because clearly they're lying and misdirecting and building up to do what they have have said, as explicitly as they can in tv world, won't be happening. this obsession with "going canon" is, frankly, weird in fandom.

my blood pressure goes up when i read the phrase "stepping stone". even if bucktommy doesn't last, they will never have been a stepping stone. one, because it is a relationship, and relationships can't be stepping stones, that is such a cynical way to look at things and really makes me wonder about some of these people's real life relationships (yeah i know it's fiction, but y'all take it too far in your vitriol for it not to be invading your personal lives) and two, because b*ddie is not happening, so it can't be a stepping stone to it.

they have done everything they can except saying "b*ddie isn't happening" because in tvland ambiguity is your best friend. but ryan calling eddie heterosexual twice is not ambiguous. and i've already said, but ignoring what ryan has said about the coming out scene because it doesn't fit your headcanon is extremely disrespectful. it is fiction, but it is fiction made by people drawing from real life experiences and y'all are shitting on that

and tommy does have such potential!! they like to shit on us for saying that, "oh he's only been there for 4 eps, we don't even know anything about him", and, ignoring that we actually do know some stuff about tommy, more than we've gotten for other LI's, that's why we say potential. we are looking at possible future storylines and seeing how tommy could fit. we are looking at what was lacking in prev LI's (not in a deficient way, just in a compatibility way) and seeing how tommy can fill the spaces they couldn't.

we're basing our theories of him at least sticking around for a bit, not on wardrobe hints and coded gazes and what actors post on their socials, but by what we've seen on-screen, what has been said in interviews in black&white no hidden meaning, and by simple knowledge of story pacing.

and we could be completely wrong. that's part of it being a theory; the acknowledgement that it is not guaranteed . once you start insisting something is 100% going to happen, it's no longer a theory

wow this got long 🫣 sorry for making you read all that, if you're still here lmao. but conciseness is not my strong suit, so enjoy my babbling if you stick around, and feel free to drop in my inbox anytime

[simplepotatofarmer]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Dream & Technoblade - Desert

mirage

The map was useless; never ending brown stretching out to the edges of the cream paper it was printed on. Dream would have thrown it away but there was some comfort in looking at it, trying to piece together the location he was currently and where he was supposed to be going. A security blanket that probably would've been more helpful if it had been an actual blanket.

He wiped his hand across his brow, careful not to get sweat or the tiny grains of sand that clung to him in his eyes.

"This is so stupid," he said and the desert swallowed his words in silence. For a brief moment, Dream shivered, cold.

Hours ago, he had removed his armor. It was heavy and dark and trapped heat and he would have more of a chance against an opponent without armor than he would against the beating sun. He trudged on.

And he trudged on, only stopping when the sun was high in the sky and there was a small mound of sandstone to press his back against. There was terracotta mixed in and Dream checked the map once more, looking for any landmark that could match up to whatever this had once been. Nothing. He should head back, he knew that, but somewhere out in this desert was an old village and in it was a library and, possibly, a book.

If it's still there, thought Dream, not wanting to speak out loud again.

Using his overshirt as paltry shade, Dream closed his eyes, the cold bones of the sandstone lulling him to sleep.

He woke when a shadow fell over him.

He stared up, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, wondering sluggishly if he had died or gone crazy from the heat. Either was possible and more plausible.

"You alive there, man?" asked Techno.

Blinking, Dream pushed himself upright, hands slipping on the sand covered stone. The tiny granules digging into his palms felt real. He pulled his shirt down and wiped his face with the hem.

"What the fuck?"

Techno crouched down, the brim of his wide, floppy hat almost hitting Dream. He wore no armor, no bright red cloak like usual, but a loose white shirt and baggy tan pants.

"Hullo to you, too, Dream."

"What-- What are you doing here?" His brain felt like it was slowly beginning to move but in the wrong direction, the question not the one he really wanted an answer to.

"I can't make sure a friend doesn't die of heatstroke?"

Techno shifted where he was crouching, hooves leaving marks in the sand. He glanced out across the desert, away from the rocky mound. Dream frowned. Confusion and relief and a little bit of fear all swirled around in his chest.

"What- Wait. How did-- How did you find me?" he asked, closer to the question he really wanted to ask but not quite. Maybe he was afraid of that question and the answer.

"Ah." Techno sat next to Dream, his back also against the sandstone. "I have my ways, I have my ways... Also it wasn't that hard when Tommy wouldn't shut up about seeing you head out this way."

"Heh."

It made sense. It was even funny and Dream grinned. Next to him, Techno was watching him with concern but chuckled when Dream let out his quiet huff of laughter.

"Yeah, he thinks you're up to something but apparently the only thing you're up to is gettin' lost and dyin' of dehydration," Techno said.

"I'm not dying," said Dream and rolled his eyes, ignoring how dry they felt.

"Oh, sure, sure. You just normally look like a corpse."

Dream tilted his head.

"Well, to be fair, after the prison..."

The laugh Techno gave was choking, surprised, and he shook his head. Strands of pink hair stuck out from his braid and he flicked one of his ears.

"Alright, you got me there, man."

"Yeah."

Dream leaned his head against the rock. The sun was lower in the sky now, waves of heat visible off the sand. There was silence but it didn't feel as ominous now.

"D'you find what you were lookin' for?"

With a sigh, Dream brushed some sand off his pants.

"No. You- You could help me."

"I dunno." Techno frowned, looking over at Dream. "I only brought enough water to get across this stretch of desert then back. Speakin' of, you look like you could use a drink."

"Right," said Dream, as he pulled out his canteen and took a sip, the first one he had had in hours. It made sense; from Techno's perspective this was a rescue mission and nothing more. Or it was Dream's subconscious telling him what he already knew. Both scenarios led to the same conclusion. He took a deep breath. "Are... Are you real?"

"Heh? I'm real." Techno held out his arm in front of Dream. "You wanna pinch me and make sure?"

"No." Once more there were two answers that led to the same outcome and either Dream could make the trek back alone or with company, real or imagined. "Alright. Let's go."

@sixteenth-day-event

[olderthannetfic]

TL;DR: multiple people can arrive at the same fanfic idea/premise in different ways, but also, getting inspired by a different fanfic is not stealing, please don't gatekeep!

I joined a new fandom (it's Resident Evil (RE), which I'm mostly mentioning for that one 'nosy' anon because hell yeah I am super nosy as well, so here you go, dropping some names!), and I quickly stumbled upon one fandom-specific plot trope that I thought was both pretty neat but also super obvious (Infected!Character fic, which, in a world with zombies and viruses that cause zombies is a very logical trope).

Anyway, there was not quite as much body horror as I thought there would be, although I'm still looking, but that's not why I'm writing to you, that's just the (un)necessary background.

There was this one fic that I opened, which in its Author's Note clearly stated that the author set this fanfiction in another author's AU, because they loved the world created by this first author. The first fanfiction author basically came up with their own Infected!Character design and backstory (including fanart), and the second fanfiction author liked it so much they were now writing this fic based on/in that AU. Obviously not quoting the AN directly, but this second author was very complimentary and explicitly mentioned where they got the idea from, gushing about the first author.

In the AN for chapter two, the second author stated that they weren't aware that that first fanfiction author didn't allow others to write about the Infected!Character AU they'd made, that that first author in fact only allowed a very limited number of people they publicly approved of to write about their AU, and nobody else was allowed to touch the Infected!Character AU. This second author was now apologising in the AN for not knowing this, plus mentioning that they changed chapter one to switch up the backstory & design to not be too close to that of the first fanficton author's AU.

That made me sad, honestly. I've seen this attitude a couple of times, where fanfiction authors are super protective of their ideas that they won't allow any other fanfiction author to write about them, and it's always struck me as a little bit hypocritical, given the whole deal of fanfiction. Especially when the original/first fanfiction author is credited and the inspired work is clearly done because the second author loved the first fanfiction so much. If it's a highly developed/specific and original AU (so not just any common trope), and you don't even mention the fanfic you were inspired by, then I find that rude, but just flat out not allowing people to even touch 'your' thing? C'mon!

This partially ties into my other gripe about a specific type of comments I occasionally get, which are along the lines of 'huh interesting idea where did you get it? bc/btw there is this other fic with the same idea (posted before you)'; idk if I got the tone right, but they never seem to be actually genuinely asking how I got the idea (and I always delight in telling them, not sarcastically, I genuinely love talking about this stuff, bc I get inspired by the most random things and I love love writing 'original'/new things!! I love tropes as much as anybody, I read a shitton of them, but i when I write I love coming up with new shit/plot! it's so fun!!). They just vanish after my explanation, even when I try to invite further conversation. It always feels to me like they're 'checking' that I didn't steal the idea, and it feels a bit lousy.

I mean in (larger) fandoms, it is not surprising at all that two or three or even more people arrive at the same idea, maybe even inspired by the same thing, same reading of canon, or not, varied experiences--and just because the works are similar doesn't mean that they were inspired by one another, but if they are, that's not a sin! I just want people to not take everything in bad faith, and also, to not 'disallow' others from getting inspired, especially when they do it in a very polite manner!

It's because of comments like these that I sometimes, very privately, worry that before I'll manage to post the long fic I spent months writing--because I'm one of those who wants the thing finished before I start posting--somebody else will have a similar idea, post their thing first, and then I'll look like I'm lying about not reading/stealing their idea, or just jumping on the bandwagon, which again, it's not a bad thing, actually.

And it shouldn't be like that! I shouldn't worry, and people should also be more willing to accept that authors can arrive at the same idea at (roughly) the same time & accept that explanation without side-eyeing the author, and that if an author is inspired by a different fanfic, that's not a sin either (in fact, for me it would be an honour).

None of this is new either, but that RE stuff reminded me of it again.

Oh man, this is way longer than I thought it would be. Apologies. I'm going to add a TLDR at the start.

Anyway, I'm going to finish writing an Infected!Catboy!Leon fic now and be very unsurprised if I find out that somebody else has had the same idea long before me (aside from one or two reader fic inserts with that topic that I stumbled upon on tumblr, bc that's just not my thing at all (reader insert, I mean)).

--

In college, friends of mine had a falling out over one of them "stealing" the other's fic idea.

Space pirates.

Not specific space pirates. Not a way of integrating the concept that was fandom-specific. No, just the general idea of space pirates in the same fandom.

Never have I facepalmed so hard.

[galaxywhump]

i would love to see daniel making what he feels like is a mistake with wren (similar to how he fucked up with wren getting attacked by the local wildlife in the beginning of the story). like he pushes wren too far without realizing it, or hurts him in a way he didn't intend to (like rope failure during suspension bondage). love to see wren suffering and i also love to see daniel feeling guilty so like. best of both worlds lol

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, suspension, dislocation.

~~~

“Uh, could you… check the ropes again? Something’s weird about the balance.”

“I know what I’m doing, sweetheart.”

“But-”

“Just trust me. Besides, just a few more pictures and we’ll be done, okay?”

Daniel snaps a picture. One of the knots in the elaborate ropework keeping Wren suspended snaps too.

It happens in a blink of an eye. Wren becomes certain that something is wrong with Daniel’s handiwork, that it wasn’t just his imagination, and in the next moment his body jolts downwards. If that was the end of it, it wouldn’t be bad - he’d just be a bit startled, he’d get to savor Daniel being proven wrong, but, unfortunately, he mostly did know what he was doing.

Wren’s right arm was still secured with rope, and when he shifted, it stayed in exactly the same position.

He sees stars. His scream of agony comes out as a strained gasp. His shoulder is on fire.

Daniel curses, sets his camera aside and rushes to start painstakingly undoing the knots while Wren hyperventilates, eyes wide, forehead lined with cold sweat.

"I told you!" he chokes out, close to sobbing. "I fucking told you and you didn't- Why the fuck didn't you believe me?!"

Daniel doesn't answer, focused on untying the ropes; Wren's shaky breathing is the only sound. When he's finally freed, the pain only gets worse when his shoulder shifts, and he can't stop tears from falling from his eyes. It hurts so much, a completely new pain. Daniel cradles him in his arms, petting his hair, and the look of remorse on his face is nowhere near as satisfying as it would be if Wren could think more clearly.

"I'm sorry," Daniel says, carefully laying his hand on Wren's injured shoulder, making him tense up and gasp. "Next time I'll make sure the ropes are secure."

"Next time?!" Wren cries. “My shoulder is-”

"I know, I know. And… I need to set it, so be still. Just trust me."

"Again?! You just fucking showed me why-"

Once again, he doesn't get to finish his sentence - with practiced confidence Daniel grabs his arm, lifts it up, and pulls, and Wren howls in agony feeling it pop back into place.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay now,” Daniel whispers, holding Wren close as he struggles to breathe. “You can rest.” He sighs, then the corners of his mouth rise in a playful smirk. “First that animal, now this. I guess I’ll just ask Berkeley to bring me some new rope next time so there’s no more accidents, hm? I really am sorry, though. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You didn’t learn shit,” Wren rasps, somehow mustering enough strength and clarity to glare at Daniel, who, much to his fury, laughs.

“See how quickly you bounce back? You’re stronger than you realize, sweetheart.”

Wren presses his lips tightly together and shakes his head. He’s not strong enough to fight back in a way that matters, not strong enough to escape. At the moment his strength seems completely meaningless to him, and he’s so tired of staying strong this way when Daniel only seems to find delight in it.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab

@funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter

@as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump-blog @kixngiggles

@ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words

@pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp

@there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

[alyswritings]

High School Fight

JJ Maybank x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N gets into a fight at school.

Warnings: mentions of fighting, mentions of groping

a/n: got this from a comment on this post. so it's kind of a part 2, but not really. loved the idea, thank you to the commenter! hope y'all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

JJ is working on his car, just doing a routine check up. John B is over with his 5 year old son, the boy playing in the yard with whatever he can find while the two adults talk.

JJ's sentence is cut off as his phone rings. He quickly wipes the grease off his hands on a bandana and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He frowns at the number, answering it.

"Hello?" He asks.

"Mr. Maybank?" A woman asks.

"Yeah." He says.

"Hi. This is Alexandra Harrington. I'm the secretary at Y/N's school." She explains, though JJ already knows. "We need you to come down to the school and pick up Y/N."

"Why? Is she okay?" JJ immediately grows concerned.

"That would depend on the definition of okay." Alexandra remarks, only worrying JJ more. "She got into a fight and is facing suspension."

"What?" JJ scoffs.

"Please, just come down to the school." Alexandra tells.

"I-- yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there." JJ says before hanging up.

"Everything good?" John B asks.

"I don't know. Y/N got in a fight at school." JJ informs.

"Ooh. Mini Maybank strikes again." John B grins.

"Shut up." JJ rolls his eyes. "I'll see you guys later."

"Later." John B bids, the two doing the pogue handshake. "Come on, buddy!" He calls out to his son.

---

JJ walks into the school, having quickly changed into clean clothes so he wasn't covered in grease. He finds Y/N sitting outside the office, slouched in her seat, her arms crossed over her chest.

There's a boy and girl on the bench next to her, both quietly talking to each other. He notices the bruises and scratch marks on their faces.

"Hey." JJ calls making Y/N sigh. She doesn't respond, which slightly annoys JJ. "Y/N." He sternly calls, putting his hand on top of her head and forcing her head back. He freezes at her black eye, split lip, and the cut on her cheek. "What the fuck?" His tone immediately changes to anger as he cups her chin, moving her head to inspect the injuries better.

"Dad, I'm fi--"

"What the fuck happened?" He questions.

"The principal will explain it." Y/N rolls her eyes. "Stupid bitch." She grumbles under her breath.

"I want your side." JJ says before he goes into the office.

"Mr. Maybank. Wish I was seeing you under better circumstances." The principal says.

"Right. What the hell happened?" JJ questions.

"Your daughter's a little psycho." The mother of the girl sneers.

"Excuse you?" JJ glares at her. "You better watch it, lady, or you're gonna match your kid out there." He threatens. The woman's jaw drops in offense, giving the principal a look.

"Mr. Maybank, relax. Physical violence is not the answer." The principal quickly intervenes.

"Your kid is the one going around and beating up innocents." The father of the boy says.

"No. No, I know my daughter, she's always got a reason. So your kids are the fucking problem." JJ argues.

The other two quickly retaliate, throwing insults about Y/N, the three adults getting into an argument.

"Enough!" The principal shouts, effectively shutting the three up. "Now... we have two stories. Y/N's story and then Jason and Ashley's story."

"Y/N's a little liar." Ashley's mother states.

"You really don't wanna piss me off, lady." JJ seethes, his hand clenching into a fist.

"We don't have any evidence of which story is true, only our beliefs." The principal says. "Jason and Ashley's story is they were trying to talk to Y/N, make plans, and she just lost it and starting hitting them."

JJ scoffs, his eyes rolling into the back of his head out of disbelief.

"And these idiots believe that shit?" JJ asks, pointing to the two parents.

"Excuse you?" The woman glares.

"You wanna say that to my face, pal?" The man sneers.

"Didn't I just do it?" JJ retorts.

The three teens listen from the outside, Y/N's lips quirking up at her father's remarks.

"Calm down." The principal orders. "Now, Y/N's story is Jason was hitting on her and wouldn't leave her alone even after she told him no. She says she didn't throw the first punch until he grabbed her bottom."

"He what?" JJ fumes, using all of his strength to not go beat up the little boy himself.

"She says Ashley was there with him and taunting her, calling her a bitch and insulting her home life along with constantly tripping her and tugging on her hair." The principal explains.

"I'm gonna--" JJ seethes, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth could break.

"You won't be doing anything, Mr. Maybank. Unless you'd like to go to jail." The principal warns. JJ takes a deep breath, burying his anger.

"So what? She gets in trouble for defending herself?" JJ asks. "That's fucking stupid."

"Defending herself from what?" Jason's dad scoffs. "Jason didn't do anything wrong."

"He disrespected her boundaries. He touched her ass, that's pretty fucking wrong, you dumb fuck!" JJ's voice raises near the end.

"He was being persistent. She was playing hard to get." The guy argues.

"She didn't want him in any way, whatsoever! No means no." JJ states.

"Ashley did no wrong." Her mom insists.

"Aside from being a fucking brat." JJ scoffs making the woman give him an appalled look. "She should also be old enough to know that she should keep her hands to herself. Plus, that golden rule parents are always so insistent about. Nothing nice to say, shut the fuck up. She should learn that rule."

"You do not talk about my daughter that way." The woman sneers.

"She hurt my daughter. I'm not gonna stand for that." JJ says. "Or for your son being a little prick."

"He was just trying to get her attention." The man protests. "Little ass grab never hurt anybody, especially if the girl's a hottie."

Ashley's mother screams when JJ's fist connects with Jason's dad's cheek. The three teens jump at the noise, turning back to see the chaos.

"Mr. Maybank!" The principal yells, rushing over. "Enough! That is enough!" She gets between the two men before they can start a brawl.

"All three children are suspended for two weeks for violating the rules. And unless you want them expelled, I suggest you three take them home and try your best to avoid each other for the rest of your lives. Or at least until these kids graduate."

"If they all graduate." Ashley's mother rolls her eyes.

JJ starts to charge for her, but the principal holds him back.

"I especially advise you to leave, Maybank. For you and your daughter's own good." The principal says.

"No. No, I'm leaving for their own good." JJ points to the other two parents. "Cause if I don't, they're going six feet under a little younger than they anticipate."

The principal sighs as the other two parents start to complain about the threat.

JJ leaves the office, rolling his eyes out of frustration and anger.

"C'mon." He motions for his daughter to get up. He grabs her backpack, slinging it over his shoulder. Y/N gets up, JJ placing his hand on her back to lead her out.

"You're a little bitch, Jason." JJ calls back before the two exit the school.

They get outside and JJ manages to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"You okay?" Y/N asks, looking up at her dad, not sure if she should be amused or concerned or both.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." JJ runs his hand over his head, messing his hair up. "I'm sorry. I-I shouldn't jeopardize your school like that."

"Not jeopardizing it anymore than I am." Y/N chuckles. "Plus, school system sucks anyway. Don't give too many shits."

"Are you okay?" JJ asks, his concerned father side overtaking him as he observes the injuries on her face. He brushes her hair back to get a better look at them, thumb lightly grazing over the black eye.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's fine. They look worse." Y/N grins.

"Yes, they do." JJ proudly laughs.

"So, am I grounded?" Y/N asks.

"No. No, you're never grounded for standing up for yourself." JJ reassures. "Ice cream?"

"Rocky road." Y/N immediately lights up making JJ softly smile at her.

"Rocky road it is, princess." JJ promises, kissing her on the head.

He opens the passenger door for her and she climbs in, JJ shutting it after she's in. He throws her backpack into the bed of the truck, going over to the other side and getting in, starting the engine.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @mrvlxgrl @star-wars-lover @champomiel @ironmaiden1313

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Sleeping On The Job 🐍 ( Tom Riddle x Female Reader)

Warnings: nsfw || p in v || f!ng3ring || light ch0k!ng || sp!t play || semi-public || post hogwarts so characters are of age || mdni || 1.4k words.

A/N: Some more Tom smut because I think I have a serious obsession with this man and it's becoming a problem. Dedicating this to my fellow Tom lover @marketfreshfics 😘

Also, apologies for the gap in my writing lately! I moved at the end of April, which consumed all of my free time but I'm back and I'm hoping this was worth the wait!

Tom’s emerald eyes rose from his book, the first time they had done so in a while, as he checked the time. It was only a quarter after two and the shop was quiet, the heavy rain outside contributing to the lull in traffic. Tom knew he still had plenty of time before his 4 o’clock client would arrive, so he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. As he sat there, savoring the peace and quiet of the shop, the words of his former peers and professors flooded his mind. 

“Tom has so much potential, how could he just waste it working at a shop?”. But it wasn’t just “a shop”. Working at Borgin and Burkes allowed Tom to learn more about dark magic than he ever could at Hogwarts. The shop provided him with everything he needed to help him achieve his ultimate goal. But for right now, with the rain pitter-pattering against the windows, the shop provided him a peaceful space to relax. 

His relaxation, however, was short lived, interrupted by the sound of the shop door opening. When Tom looked for the source of the interruption, he was pleasantly surprised at what met his gaze, or rather, who.

The most beautiful angel he had ever laid eyes on walked through the door. The two of them made eye contact as she slowly made her way towards the counter. Tom’s eyes wandered her body, his mind conjuring naughty images of how lovely she’d look laid out on the counter, naked, with her legs spread, her cunt dripping wet and eager for him. 

Tom snapped out of his daydream when she was right in front of him, their eyes locked on one another, as she gave him a flirty smile. He shot the woman a flirty smile of his own before speaking. 

“Hello gorgeous, was there something I could help you find?”

She let out a giggle as she leaned forward on the counter, giving Tom a clear view of the cleavage her blouse provided, a view Tom unabashedly indulged in. 

“Actually yes, I was trying to find the most attractive man in all of Knocturn Alley, but it seems like I’ve already found him!”

Tom rolled his eyes, but let out a soft chuckle in response. “It’s early, shouldn’t you be at work, sweetheart?”

“Shop’s been quiet today with the weather so I thought I’d leave for a quick lunch break. Figured I’d pop in to see you for a bit if you weren’t busy.”

“It’s been quiet here too so you’re welcome to stay. Just need you gone by 4. Have a client coming in.”

“Oh, that’s more than enough time.” Her tone was laced in desire as she leaned further over the counter. Tom followed suit, leaning over the counter as well until their lips met. After a moment he pulled away, coming around the counter to face her.

“More than enough time.” Tom repeated as he roughly brought his lips back to hers. He picked her up as he kissed her, sitting her on the counter and situating himself between her legs. His hands began to make quick work of her clothes, unbuttoning her blouse so that her breasts were in full view before his hands shot up her skirt, pulling her stockings and underwear down her legs. 

The action caused her to pull away. “Tom!? Here?! Seriously? You’re at work! What if your boss catches us?!”

Tom chuckled. There was no chance of them being caught. He had full reign of this place when he worked, his boss trusting him and never showing up unannounced. 

“He won’t. Trust me.” His voice was stern and commanding, and she nodded, her core aching far too much to deny him, or herself, of this. 

He re-positioned himself between her legs, dipping two fingers into her waiting heat. Loud moans fell from her lips as he thrust his fingers in and out of her, each thrust concluding with the feeling of metal teasing her entrance - Tom grandfather’s ring that he wore at all times. The cold feeling of the metal juxtaposed with the warmth from his fingers heightened the experience, coaxing her closer to an orgasm. The moment Tom felt her walls begin to tighten around his fingers, he promptly pulled them out, bringing them up and shoving them into her mouth instead. The taste of her juices mixed with the metallic taste of the ring meeting her tongue. Once she had sucked his fingers clean, he commanded her again.

“Lay back. Now.”

She did as she was told, sliding out of her hiked up skirt and unbuttoned shirt before shifting some papers on the counter to the side. She watched as Tom removed his belt and pants as she laid back, completely naked, spreading her legs wide for him. Tom took a quick second to savor the view - she appeared exactly how he had imagined her earlier when she first got here. 

He slid into her wet cunt with ease, his pace merciless as he pounded into her. The counter shook with his aggressive thrusts. Although Tom had assured her his boss wouldn’t catch them, she began to panic again in her mind. Were the windows even covered? She knew for a fact the door hadn’t locked behind her. Anyone could have walked in or walked by and seen them. This wasn’t their first venture into semi-public sex, but usually they were somewhere a bit more secluded than a normally busy shop on a normally busy street. But Tom didn’t seem concerned in the slightest. His mind fixated on one thing only. And as the tip of his cock continued to slam into her cervix, her orgasm fast approaching, the worries faded away. Spectators be damned. 

Tom, on the other hand, had a secret desire to be caught. Even back when they were in their final year at Hogwarts, he always hoped someone would happen upon them in the prefect bathroom, or in the empty classrooms they would frequent. He always loved the idea of someone walking in on the most beautiful girl in all of Hogwarts screaming his name. He wanted the world to know that she belonged to him. 

She felt Tom’s movements becoming sloppy, a tell tale sign that he was reaching his climax. Tom brought his hand to her stomach, trailing it up her body before roughly wrapping around her neck. The feeling of her airwaves being restricted as he continued to fuck her sent her over the edge, her cunt desperately clenching around him as she came. His grip tightened even further as she felt herself being lifted slightly by her neck, Tom meeting her gaze as he did so.

“Open your mouth!” he growled. She obeyed immediately. Tom spat directly into her mouth before releasing her neck, pushing her back onto the counter as she swallowed. Tom’s breathing began to pick up as his movements became even sloppier, letting out a final groan as he climaxed. Her body welcomed his release, her walls clenching around him again as he filled her. Once Tom had caught his breath, he pulled himself out of her and silently got himself dressed as she followed suit, hopping off the counter. 

“Well, that was quite the lunch break wasn’t it, sweetheart? You should visit me during your lunch breaks more often.” Tom’s voice dripped with satisfaction, a large grin plastered across his face. 

She struggled to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling a bit shy after having been taken so crudely at his job where anyone could have spotted them. Though she couldn’t deny the rush she had felt. The prospect of visiting him at work more often making her body ache for more. And truthfully, she was happy to take advantage of any opportunity to be used by him, no matter where or when it was. She knew this about herself, and he knew it as well.

She watched as Tom fixed his desk back up, the pair engaging in brief and vague conversation about what he was reading and what he was working on currently. The conversation was cut short when the front door chimed again. An older wizard walked in - Tom’s 4 o’clock client. Tom shot his lover a stern look that conveyed a silent request. 

“I should go. Will I be seeing you later?” 

Tom’s face softened, another flirty smile forming on his face. “You most certainly will, sweetheart. I’ll meet you at your work.” 

Her heart did a backflip as she made her way out of the shop, already anticipating their later meeting. As she disappeared into the rain outside, she gave Tom one last glance, his emerald eyes lighting up as his client placed what looked like a small chalice and a locket on the counter. 

[theshifterbear]

YALL I JUST MANIFESTED WITGOUT EVEN TRYING OMG?!

basically i have a bridgerton dr and me and my love interest have like this wlw, forbidden love; enemies to lovers thing going on (not an actual character from the show, she’s japanese and the emperors daughter🤭) but anyways back to the point, i have a playlist of orchestral pop covers for my dr but there was this ONE song that is literally our theme if our relationship was a song it would be that song.

so i’m like “omg this is our song” but im upset because there’s no orchestral cover of it and like yh the song is there but ITS NOT THE SAMEEEE😭 so this whole week or two i’m thinking if only i can find an orchestra cover of it but not really dwelling on it much yk.

tell me why just now as i search the song into musi, i find an extended version WITH AN OPENING OF VIOLINS?! my eyes widened and nigga i TRANSCENDED (i’m black btw‼️) like did i just hear that?! but it still played the normal song after so i’m like “oh”

but then i look in the description and find a link to AN ORCHESTRA COVER TGE ARTIST RELEASED HERSELF!!! WTAF THE WAY MY JAW DROPPED😭 I MANIFESTED THIS IDEC

i’ve never had a sign so clear that i’m shifting to my bridgerton dr and living out my wlw forbidden pining enemies to lovers fantasy likeeee?!?!?! anyways imma come back when i shift🤭

(the song is touch me by victoria monet and kehlani, i was gonna not put it because i lowkey wanted to gatekeep but i like shiftblr you’re one of my fav shifting accounts here so ig not🙄💟)

ANYWAYS THANKS FOR READING TO MY SUCCESS STORY!!

OH MY GOD GIRL!!!!!!!!!!! Thank you for sharing your success story. I hope you and your woman have the best meeting and that happiness continues through you guys story. I can't wait to hear all about it!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO EXCITED 😝!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will be checking out that song btw so thank you. and i'm so appreciative of your support so thank you so so so so so so so much

[wannab-urs]

Written in the Stars - You Caught Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x Ezra (Prospect)

Series summary: The Mandalorian takes a job unlike any he’s ever had before. Driven by his guilt over working for the Empire, even indirectly, and the strange bond he formed with the man, Din rescues his bounty. What follows is not something either of them ever expected.

Chapter summary: Ezra awakes, suffering from an infection, to find he has been captured by an armored man.

Warnings: The Mandalorian/Prospect crossover AU, canon-typical violence, season 1 rewrite, eventual smut, slow burn, eventual romance, Ezra being a menace (verbally), non-sexual bondage, discussions of wound care and infection and other medical shit, very brief thoughts about Mando being hot. WC: 3.3k

a/n: I'm still not super confident about this fic, but I really hope yall like it. Cover collage by @atinylittlepain, betad by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin and @beskarandblasters, dividers by me and @saradika-graphics

Ezra Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Arvala-7

Din lands and checks that his tracking fob is blinking fast enough. The bounty is here.

He lowers the ramp to the razor crest and strides out onto the cracked and dusty surface of Arvala-7. He checks which direction to go before using the scope of his amban rifle to scout his surroundings. He catches sight of two blurrg in the distance, odd looking but seemingly harmless.

As he turns to scope out the area to his left, a blurrg suddenly appears at close range. Din tries to take it out with his flame thrower, but the bastard catches his entire arm in its mouth, slamming him to the ground. He gets repeatedly smashed into the ground and slung in the air, feeling as if his arm may rip clean off. He punches the blurrg with his left hand, throwing as much weight as he can behind it. The creature lets go, but immediately charges him again.

Just in time, a dart lands in the creature’s side, sending a shockwave through its body and rendering it immobile. As another blurrg makes its way toward Din, who is trapped beneath the first one, it is hit by another dart.

An Ugnaught rides up to Din on yet another blurrg – this one seems tame, thankfully.

“Thank you,” Din pants.

“You are a bounty hunter,” the Ugnaught states.

“Yes.”

“I will help you. I have spoken.”

Din gets up and follows the Ugnaught to his farm, which is not far from the ship.

The Ugnaught makes tea as he speaks with Din.

“Many have passed through. They seek the same one as you.”

Din did not know there had been others before him. He wonders if there are others competing with him now.

“Did you help them?”

“Yes. They died.”

“Well, then I don't know if I want your help,” Din scoffs.

“You do. I can show you to the encampment.”

Considering his lack of knowledge of the terrain and his lack of suitable transport across this wasteland of a planet, Din supposes that would be helpful.

“What's your cut?”

“Half.”

“Half the bounty to guide? Seems steep,” Din shakes his head.

“No. Half of the blurrg you helped capture.”

“The blurrg? You can keep them both.” Why would he want a kriffing blurrg?

“No, you will need one. To ride. The way is impossible to pass without a blurrg mount.”

“ I don't know how to ride blurrg.”

“I have spoken.”

Taming a blurrg proves more difficult than Din expected. After she throws him to the ground an absurd number of times, Din finally manages to gain the creature’s trust. He hikes his leg over her back and takes her for a ride.

Shortly after, the Ugnaught leads Din across a cracked maze of muddy land – canyons have formed between the sections of cracked dirt that only a blurrg can jump over. They come upon a compound crawling with mercenaries, who all appear to be armed to the teeth. Din spots a blaster cannon and at least 60 men. Who is this bounty?

An IG unit stands in the middle of the fray, firing away and screaming about some code or other. Din grumbles about competition, his hopes of being the only hunter on the job dashed. And by a droid, no less.

Din drops to the edge of the makeshift battlefield.

“IG Unit! Stand down.” The droid shoots Din in his new pauldron, flinging his shoulder back painfully. “I'm in the Guild!” Din yells.

The two duck out of the way of a volley of blaster fire and hide behind a pillar.

“You are a Guild member? I thought I was the only one on assignment,” the droid sounds annoyed, if that’s even possible.

“That makes two of us. So much for the element of surprise.”

“Sadly, I must ask for your fob. I have already issued the writ of seizure. The bounty is mine.”

“Unless I'm mistaken, you are, as of yet, empty-handed.”

“This is true.”

Din fires a few shots from behind his cover, taking out three of the mercs.

“I have a suggestion.”

The IG unit takes out several men from the top of the compound, their bodies falling to the dirt below.

“Proceed.”

“We split the reward.”

“This is acceptable.”

“Great. Now let's regroup, out of harm's way, and form a plan.”

There are way too many of them and Din wants to act as if they’ve given up so they can take the mercs by surprise that night. The bounty droid has other things on its mind though.

“I will of course receive the reputation merits associated with the mission.”

“Can we talk about this later?” Din fires off a few shots with his amban rifle, evaporating several mercs in the process.

“I require an answer if I am to proceed.”

The mercs advance on their position, pinning them in a corner with no way of escape.

The IG unit starts freaking out. He claims he cannot be captured and initiates a self-destruct sequence.

“Do not self-destruct! Cover me!”

Din runs to the door panel and tries to rip out the wiring, but quickly starts taking fire.

“There’s too many!”

“I will initiate self-destruct”

“Do not self-destruct! We’re shooting our way out.”

The mercenaries power up the blaster cannon and start firing at Din and the IG unit.

“Okay! New plan!”

“Beginning self-destruct countdown.”

“NO! Draw their fire and I’ll take it out.”

The IG unit runs out taking several hits and collapsing against the structure behind him. Din uses his grappling line to jerk the cannon out of the merc’s hands and shoots him before jumping on it and taking out every last mercenary in the vicinity.

Din goes to check on the droid. “Ya know… You’re not so bad. For a droid.”

They use the blaster cannon to get inside the large metal door, since ripping out the wiring hadn’t worked. Din takes out one last mercenary and starts searching the room for the bounty.

Din comes up on a man sleeping on the floor. He’s covered by a pile of ragged blankets and there is a bloodstain on the floor beside him.

“Well. They said 40 years old.”

“This does look to be our target,” the droid quips.

IG raises his blaster as if to shoot the sleeping man.

“No. We'll bring him in alive.”

“The commission was quite specific. The asset was to be terminated.”

He raises his blaster again, but Din is faster. Before the IG unit can even register his movement, there’s a hole in its head.

“Droids…” Din grumbles.

Din aims his blaster at the man and yanks back the blankets covering him. Din is stunned to find the man is missing his right arm, nothing more than a stump ending just below his shoulder. He briefly wonders if a blurrg got him.

Din toes him with his boot, keeping his blaster trained on him. The man doesn’t wake up. Din kicks him a bit harder and he still doesn’t stir, so he picks the man up and heaves him over his shoulders. He carries the man out to the blurrg the Ugnaught let him keep and ties him to its back like a saddlebag.

It’ll be a long walk back to the ship.

Ezra wakes up and realizes he is definitely not in the compound anymore. He’s very securely strapped to some sort of creature. A man clad in what looks like a helmet made of pure silver aims a rifle at two assailants and takes them out easily, evaporating them into nothing but scraps of fabric.

Barring an equally shiny pauldron, the rest of his armor is varying shades of red and brown – like rust. It’s quite the contrast and makes him appear like a rusted tin can.

The silver warrior doesn’t notice Ezra has woken up yet. Ezra reaches out with the Force, trying to get a read on the man’s intentions, but feels only his urge to protect. Until he knows what situation he’s found himself in, he thinks it’s best not to reveal himself and promptly slumps back into the beast, pretending to sleep.

Sometime into pretending, he does actually pass back out, the fever making it difficult to stay conscious for long periods of time. When he awakes, they have made camp for the night.

His arm is tied to his thigh, but he’s no longer strapped to that infernal animal. The warrior appears to be tending to a shoulder wound. If he could trust him, he would heal the man, but he is as yet unsure if this man is going to be his salvation or his damnation. All the same when he was probably going to die of infection anyway.

“Looks like a nasty wound, Tin Can,” he mumbles. His voice is rough from disuse. “I am well acquainted with grievous arm wounds.”

The silver helmet whips in his direction, the black visor leveling with his own stare. He thinks the Tin Can looks annoyed, somehow, despite the helmet.

“Quiet,” the man grumbles, his voice low and graveled.

“Name’s Ezra. And I am not inclined to suffer demands from my captor. Are you taking me back to the Imps?”

The Tin Can doesn’t answer, he simply returns to cauterizing the deep cut on his arm. Ezra takes that as his cue to turn in for the night. He adjusts his position as much as he can in his bound state and falls into another fitful sleep.

Ezra wakes up again and finds himself tied to the creature once more. The armored man has his rifle out and is disintegrating Jawas left and right. The little creatures are loading bits and pieces of a ship into their crawling fortress.

“I don’t think that’s very smart, Tin Can. Won’t ever get your shit back now.”

“Quiet.”

His captor is rude and clearly doesn't like chatter. Maybe Ezra can talk himself out of this kidnapping.

The Jawas quickly load into their land crawler and take off, the warrior right on their heels. He jumps up onto the ladder on the side of the crawler.

Ezra takes off on the creature he’s tied to – it seems to have taken a liking to him – and follows along behind the crawler at a gallop. He watches his captor nearly get slammed into a rockface, but he quickly pulls himself onto a ledge on the crawler.

He’s quite agile for someone covered in armor, Ezra thinks. The Tin Can is very capable indeed, scaling the side of the crawler first with only his hands and then with a grappling hook, all while being bombarded with random objects and shock batons. He makes it to the top of the crawler, despite his grappling hook being violently removed from the ship, and Ezra thinks he may actually succeed in reclaiming his ship parts from the Jawas.

A mere moment after the warrior crests the top of the crawler, he tumbles to the ground. Ezra fears the man may be dead. He isn’t sure why he’s worried, this man is his captor after all. Maybe it is something to do with being tied to a strange creature in the middle of a desert on a pretty unfamiliar planet.

Just then, the Tin Can gets back up. Resilient that one. He shakes off the fall and stomps across the wasteland and right past Ezra, simply expecting him to follow – which he does.

The armored man drops from the cockpit, entirely ignoring the ladder.

“Stripped. They kriffing stripped it.”

That’s the most words Ezra has heard from his captor since their journey together began. The anger he feels is so palpable to Ezra, he can almost taste its bitter tang.

“Will it fly?”

“No,” the man opens what looks like a storage cabinet to find it empty as well. He slams the doors closed angrily.

“So what are we going to do?”

“I am going to get my shit back. You are not going to do anything.”

The man is finally speaking in full sentences, albeit rude ones, and Ezra kind of wants to keep him talking. His low, graveled voice is quite appealing.

“Okay, Tin Can, how do you plan on recovering your items?”

“Stop asking questions. And stop calling me tin can.”

“You have not provided me with any other name by which to call you, my dear captor.”

“Mando. Call me Mando.”

“Alright, Mando. Lead the way.”

Mando suggests they walk to a farm nearby, where he knows someone that can likely help. Ezra lets himself be lifted back onto the creature, his body growing weak from all the excitement.

“Are you sick?”

“I fear I’ve contracted an infection from my emergency field surgery.”

“I have bacta. Had bacta. When we recover it, I’ll give it to you.”

“Why?” Ezra isn’t usually one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but his captor wasting such an expensive item on a bounty seems strange.

“You’re worth much more alive.” Ah, an investment then. That makes sense.

“Fair enough.”

Chants of “Suka! Suka! Suka!” drag Ezra from the black depths he was floating in. He slowly orients himself. He is on a sled mounted to two of the strange beasts he’s become very familiar with. His arm is once again tied to his thigh. An Ugnaught sits cross legged before a crowd of Jawas, Mando next to him – again managing to look exasperated despite not showing his face.

Mando stands and strides over to Ezra. “Good. You’re awake. Get on the crawler.”

“Where are we going?”

“The blasted creatures want a mudhorn egg.”

“This is going to go very poorly, you are indeed aware of that, I presume?”

“I’ll manage.”

Mando reaches down and pulls Ezra to his feet, maintaining a grip on him as they head into the crawler, the Jawas still chanting the entire way to the mudhorn lair.

Mando is much too large for the Jawa sized cockpit. He fills the space up quite nicely, in Ezra’s opinion. He does let slip a giggle when Mando’s shiny helmet slams into the ceiling during the bumpy ride, earning him what is certainly a withering glare.

Mando brings Ezra with him for some unknown reason, but leaves him tied up. It’s not like he’ll be able to help much, but he supposes the hunter doesn’t want to leave his bounty unattended.

Mando sloshes through the mud to the opening of the mudhorn’s cave. Ezra stays at the back of the valley, refusing to get any closer to certain death. Mando checks all of his weapons before stalking into the darkness.

Several minutes later, Ezra hears four rounds of blaster fire, quickly followed by Mando flying out of the cave and landing on his back.

“Ah, she’s awake then,” Ezra quips to no one. Mando is certainly not listening.

Mando tries for his rifle, the one that disintegrates entire beings into ash, but it appears to be jammed. So, Ezra surmises, we’re fucked. While he’s busy kriffing around with the rifle, Mando gets rammed again, flying almost to the back of the valley where Ezra stands.

The mudhorn observes his unmoving form and charges at Ezra instead. Shit. Ezra waits until the heifer is nearly on him and then dives out of the way. His landing is hard, with no arms to break his fall, but he’s okay.

The beast turns on Mando again, who has just started to stand, and smashes him into the ground with its horn. While flames and grappling hooks fly, Ezra wedges the prongs of the discarded rifle under his ropes. He wiggles back and forth, trying to break the tie as Mando gets dragged around by his grappling line.

Ezra’s ropes snap just as Mando gets thrown across the valley once again. That armor must be incredibly strong. Just as the mudhorn sets off toward Mando for the killing blow, Ezra concentrates. He draws on the energy around him and lifts the mudhorn into the air without so much as touching it. He holds it up for a moment and then, closing his eyes, slams it down into the ground as hard as he can.

Mando dives forward with his vibroblade and jams it into the neck of the stunned creature. He drives it as deep as possible, funneling the rage that built up over the course of the battle into his blade before dragging it out of the mudhorn and sheathing it.

Ezra slumps to the ground, completely exhausted. Mando limps over to him, his cuirass completely destroyed, but otherwise seemingly intact.

“You could have done that the whole time?”

“Firstly, I was bound and needed use of my hand. Secondly, I had to exact some form of revenge for capturing me, but I do not wish to see you dead.”

“Why not?”

“You killed all of my protectors. I am alone on this planet and you’re my only way off it,” Ezra says weakly. His consciousness is fading fast. Mando pulls him to his feet, pulling his arm over his shoulder, and half drags Ezra back to the crawler.

Din lays Ezra on the sled, passed out completely. Din and the Ugnaught load up all of his gear as the Jawas devour the egg. All that work for a stupid egg.,

Once everything is loaded up, the three make their way back to Din’s ship.

“Is he still sleeping?”

“Yes.” Din was worried that Ezra had pushed himself too hard and gave him the bacta shot as soon as he had his hands on it.

“Was he injured?”

“No. Not physically. But he had an infection from removing his arm.”

“Explain it to me again, I still don’t understand what happened.”

“Neither do I.” He’s never seen anything like it.

Mando and the Ugnaught spend all night repairing the ship while Ezra sleeps in Din’s bunk. He can’t put him in carbonite with the still healing wound of his stump. He would almost certainly die.

“Good luck with the bounty. May he survive and bring you a handsome reward. I have spoken.” The Ugnaught nods sagely and takes off on his blurrg.

Ezra wakes up in a dark enclosed space, the chill indicating he’s on Mando’s ship. He feels better than he has in weeks, though the mat he’s sleeping on is not much better than the pile of ragged blankets he’d called a bed for several standard weeks.

Ezra stands, steadying himself before feeling along the wall for a way to open the door. His hand finds a button and the door whooshes open. He climbs out into a small space. He’s been here before, the cargo hold of Mando’s ship. It’s crowded with crates, without much room to walk around. He spies the ladder to the cockpit and assumes Mando will be up there.

He very carefully climbs the ladder, still learning how to do things with his off hand, and pokes his head into the cockpit. Mando sits in the pilot’s seat in front of three transparisteel screens that make up the front of the ship. A massive console fills almost half the room up to where Mando sits. There’s a jumpseat behind and to the right of Mando that Ezra decides to make his own.

“No bounties in the cockpit,” Mando grumbles as Ezra plops into the seat, but he makes no move to remove him.

“Shouldn’t have left me untied then, Tin Can.”

“I told you to stop calling me that.”

“You insist on behaving like a rusted old sod and so I will refer to you as one.”

Mando doesn’t answer, so Ezra begins telling a story about channel rats in one of his ships. He unscrews a metal ball from a handle as he does so and begins to levitate it around the cockpit.

“Put that back. Don’t touch anything.”

Ezra simply pings the ball off Mando’s silver head, chuckling, and resumes telling the man about killing channel rats.

@beskarandblasters @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @electriclasso @schnarfer @alltheglitterandtheroar @survivingandenduring @catchallfangirl @nerdieforpedro @yorksgirl @heareball @morallyinept @jksprincess10 @julesonrecord @atinylittlepain

[lemonhemlock]

it's so frustrating dealing with a friend that seems set on finding imaginary slights against their person and seethes in silence waiting for you to figure out what you did 'wrong' this time 🤦‍♀️

[musical-chick-13]

Once again: the so-called "General Fandom History," in terms of which things get held up as Iconic™ or Well-Done™ or Worth Analyzing™ has disproportionately focused on (cis, abled) white men. Some of us would like to not have everything be focused on this one demographic and would, in fact, love to not constantly hear--implicitly or explicitly--how stories about people like us are inherently less interesting or less worthy of telling.

"Remember your history," WE KNOW THE HISTORY. AND WE WANT TO MOVE ON.

[coulsonlives]

I just had to share this video because holy shit, it hits the nail right on the head! So well spoken. This stuff needs to be circulated more, esp with the growing number of people thinking they have this because of misinformation, or just outright faking it.