#this was fun and thanks again for the tag!

[pretty-little-mind33]

James Potter x shy Hufflepuff fem!reader

Summary: You have a massive crush on James. One you didn't think would ever lead anywhere until a drunken party in the Gryffindor Common Room.

Genre: Fluff 🫶

Warnings: drinking, being drunk

~ directly inspired by the song So High School by Taylor Swift. thank you to the anon who requested this! ily! ~

Your cheeks burn from your embarrassment and the fire-whiskey in your blood-stream as your ears ring from the loud music dancing around you and you shake your head.

Lily Evans laughs as she glances around the Common Room. "C'mon, this is your chance," she insists, "They're playing Kiss, Marry, or Kill."

When Lily sees your confused and frankly frightened expression, she quickly explains, "It's a muggle game—it's harmless and fun—c'mon," she says again and pulls on your arm.

"Gentlemen," Lily declares when you approach the circle of students near the fire and she looks at the ring leaders of the group, The Marauders.

They're the ones that had planned this party—or Sirius and James had while Remus and Peter tagged along.

Sirius grins when he sees Lily. 

"Aw, are you joining us, Red?" he smirks and then he sees you, "And who's your friend?"

You smile shyly. You know Peter from Care Of Magical Creatures in your third year, and you often seen Remus in the library (you've even spoken to him a few times), but you've only ever seen and heard James and Sirius from afar—

—which definitely never helped the stupid, baseless, soul-crushing crush you have on James Potter. 

Remus, who is sitting criss-cross ext to Sirius, speaks up, "Y/n, yeah? You're a Hufflepuff—I see you in the library." He smiles kindly and pushes on James's shoulder, who has the latter almost choking on his beer, so you can sit next to him. 

James frowns but he recovers quickly and looks up, his glasses crooked on his nose. He's wearing his Quidditch sweater, his brown hair a tangled mess, but he's smiling now.

"Hi," he moves so you can sit next to him and Remus as Lily grins like a fool. You feel her hand on your shoulder as she plops you down next to James and she sits across from you. 

Apart from the Marauders, other students are also sitting around the circle and chatting. Sirius is by far the loudest of them all, and you think James is the funniest. 

It becomes honestly embarrassing how hard you laugh at any stupid joke he says. You can't help it, your tipsiness impairs any rational thoughts you may have, as you cover your mouth and stifle your laughs. 

James notices immediately and he grins. 

"Never had this much success, dove," he says, as charming as always, "You're cute."

This causes you to become even more flustered and you don't even know how to answer him. So, you hide from him, turning your head in the opposite direction. Lily sends you a knowing look.

James leans his knee closer to yours and you have to convince yourself he did that by accident or you'll simply implode. 

"Okay, Jamie, Kiss, Marry, Kill—me, Lily, and our new sweet little Hufflepuff," Sirius suddenly says, pulling your attention to the group again. You still have no clue what this game is and your eyes round.

Sirius seems quite pleased with himself.

James sips his drink, "Hmm, Kill you because you're a pain in my arse—" 

Sirius dramatically puts a hand on his heart, feigning hurt at his best friend's words. "And here I had the ring all prepared," he whines. 

James chuckles and continues. "Then um," he looks between you and Lily for a moment and your heart sinks.

Everyone knows James had a thing for Lily in second to fourth year. How could you, someone who had been too shy and awkward to even talk to him, compete with smart, incredibly witty, and beautifully stunning Lily Evans?

"Kiss Lily and marry Y/n," James shrugs, smiling lopsidedly as he looks at you and pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Lils' seems like she'd be a decent snog, but I like them sweeter for the long run," he reasons and winks. 

Lily laughs and rolls her eyes, "Smooth, Potter."

"No need to get all green-eyed on us, Evans," James says and turns his attention to you again, "Whadd'ya say, lil' puff, June 17th in six years?" he says, planning the future fake wedding.

You look up at him, your eyes round and you blink—unable to laugh it off as your heart thumps so loudly you can barely hear a thing anymore. 

"I think you broke the poor girl," Remus chuckles and then turns to Peter to steer the attention away from you, "Okay, Wormy, your turn."

Thank Merlin for Remus Lupin.

* * *

A while later, you stand in the corner of the room, your mind still stuck on how James's teasing that you don't hear the man in question come up to you.

"Hey, dove," he whispers and you spin around.

"Oh–hi," you whisper. You must look so smitten because you can just feel your cheeks burn.

James smirks. "It's late. Where's Lily?"

You frown as you look around, "She's talking with um—some of her other friends over there—" you point, expecting James to walk to her and leave you behind.

Instead, he stays. "You think she'd mind if I walk you back to your Common Room, you seem a little tipsy."

You're at a loss for words but then you stutter, "O-oh, no, I don't think she would mind," you whisper, "That's very kind of you, James. I c-can walk alone if it's a bother—"

"Nonsense. If it was a bother, I wouldn't have asked," James takes your arm, pushing some hair from your face with his fingers.

"Cute ribbon," he adds, looking at the red ribbon in your hair, "Very on brand with Gryffindor pride," he chuckles as he clearly enjoys the flustered look you're wearing.

"You're adorable," he says and he takes your hand, leading you out into the hall. The corridors are empty and dimly lit at this time in the evening and it feels surreal to walk the halls hand in hand with James Potter—especially when he keeps looking back at you with that look on his face. 

When you arrive at the entrance of the Hufflepuff Common Room, James turns to you and he keeps his hand in yours. He's blushing obviously now and you can smell the beer on his breath.

"If we weren't so tipsy," he mumbles, his knuckles caressing your skin, "I would kiss you right now."

Your eyes widen and your breath leaves you. "Pardon?"

"You heard me, love—where have you been all my life?" he sounds lovesick and one of his palms press against his warm cheek, "Is this what love at first sight is supposed to feel like? Because I was convinced that was all bullshit until now. What charm have you put on me, Y/n?"

You look away because if you look into his eyes any longer, you'll faint. Your hand squeezes his as his words make you feel dizzy and all fluttery. "I think you're just a little drunk, James."

"Drunk in love, yeah," he half-jokes, his tone soft as he leans in and his lips find your forehead.

You shut your eyes, wondering how he could make you feel like this in a mere matter of hours and although your insecurities creep in, you stay in the moment. 

"Where can I find you tomorrow?" James whispers against your skin. 

"I'm in the library a lot, especially in the mornings," you say, having no expectations of ever seeing James Potter again. You and him live on completely different planets.

"You can find me there if you'd like," you finish and James nods, his lips kissing your temple one last time and then he whispers a small, sweet dreams into your skin. 

* * *

  In the morning, you ignore your hangover and find your usual spot in the back of the library as you open an old book written by an ancient muggle philosopher. 

Last night's events in the Gryffindor Common Room play in your head as you read. 

"Mornin'." You're startled by a familiar voice and you look up from your book. James stands in front of you, a Quaffle under his arm as his hair splays messily across his forehead.

He's still dressed in his Quidditch Uniform and he walks closer, smiling. "Sorry I'm late—practice ran later than usual. Whatcha reading?" he asks, sitting across from you and draping his arm across the chair next to his as the Quaffle sits in his lap.

"You came," you whisper with a smile, your heart fluttering.

"Yeah, 'course I came," James says so casually as he leans over the table and taps your book, "Whatcha reading, dove? Do tell me all about it,"

You feel all warm and fuzzy like all your wildest dreams have come true, when you say, "Only if you tell me all about Quidditch practice after?" you look at him shyly.

"Your wish is my command," James grins, a faint blush on his cheeks.

[jo-com]

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ ➛ Clingy

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mleux

Summary: Charles and Alex gets so clingy it’s adorable

Genre: Short Fluff, Throuple!

Tw: not anything in particular js some grammatical error and mind u this is not profread

─────── ─ ‧₊˚ ☁️ ─ ───────

Yn.cult just posted!

Liked by Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, bellahadid and 2,389,210 others

Yn.cult 📍NYC!! Finally back at home💋

View all of the comments

Bellahadid No invites??

Yn.cult NEXT TIME I PROMISE

Bellahadid You better🤨

Alexandrasaintmleux Pretty as always ma fille

Yn.cult Stopp, you’re making me blush🤭

Charles_Lecler I think you’re pretty too!

Alexandrasaintmleux i said it first tho😐

User1 THE WAY THEY’RE FIGHTING OVER HER😭😭

User2 Nah cause i’d do the same ngl

Ex.bf Staying there too! Maybe we should hang out!

Alexandrasaintmleux yeah no.

Charles_Leclerc Agreed.

User3 he shoot his shot but got rejected twice😭😭

…

Yn.cult just posted!

Liked by Carlossainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Vougemagazine and 1,390,217 others

Yn.cult Omy to time square btw thanks for having me!💋

Tagged; Vougemagazine

View all of the comments

User4 How can one person look cute and hot at the same time

User5 it’s called the y/n effect✨

User6 Faxx☝🏻

User7 Nah who took the first pic?🤨

Vougemagazine lovely having you!

♥️ liked by the author

Alexandrasaintmleux Missing you so bad mon amour😢

…

Alex pouted, her brows knitted in a frown as she stared blankly at your post; constantly refreshing it to see whether or not you replied to her comment yet.

But every time she does, she gets disappointed—not seeing your reply just makes her grow fonder of your presence.

With a deep sighed, Alex turned off her phone and buried her face in y/n’s favorite pillow. The one she uses every time they sleep, the one that has her lingering smell on it, and the one Charles and Alex coddles up whenever they miss you. Which is constantly so they fight about whoever gets it.

Alex stared blankly at the ceiling, her mind was clouded with the thoughts of you. She just misses you so much it’s killing her. Literally.

The only reason you were out was because of your job; you love modeling that’s why they couldn’t have the guts to stop you from going. But now they just wished that they stopped you.

“Ughhhhh” she sighed, dragging the h along the tone of her boredness. Her voice echoing around the empty room which caught the attention of their boyfriend.

“What’s the matter, bébé?” Charles asked, peeking his head into the doorframe.

Alex lazily dragged her head up to face charles. “Everything’s cool, i just miss her is all” she mumbled, her voice laced with sadness and longing.

Charles smiled emphatically, he knows what it’s like to miss you— he’s going through that too but he’s not taking it as hard like Alex though. He’s trying to act strong for the both of them, i mean someone has to, right?

Alex felt the couch dipped down as Charles sat besides her frame. “Should we call y/n and see what’s she’s up to?” He asked, rubbing soft circles around her back.

“No” she replied all muffled due to her head still facing down and resting on your pillow.

She wanted them to call you; to hear your sweet voice. Alex wanted nothing more than that, but then again she doesn’t want to disturb you and ruin your fun.

“Let’s just watch a movie and try to get our minds of her, yeah?” Sighing defeatedly, alex nodded her head and muttered a low ‘sure’ making Charles smile happily.

So that’s what they did, they watched a movie, and ate all the food they could find in the house until they fell asleep.

They woke up the very next day— saw your recent post and started to miss you like crazy again.

…

Yn.cult just posted

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Charles_Leclerc, urbff and 3,490,672 others

Yn.cult Miss my two pouty babies!💋

…

Got bored and wanted to make this, hope you guys enjoy itt!!

[fastandcarlos]

Ferrari At Heart » Charles LeClerc

summary: as your interest in f1 grows, so does your interest in a certain ferrari driver

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by redbullracing, schecoperez and 528,392 others

ynusername: excited to experience my first grand prix this weekend, and luckily for you guys I get to bring you with me for it all. thank you red bull for inviting me out 💙

tagged: redbullracing

48,221 comments

redbullracing: you’re more than welcome back at the paddock anytime you like

username1: pls tell me we’re getting a vlog out of this

username2: praying for a max cameo

landonorris: it was good to meet you y/n, even if it was only in passing

ynusername: @/landonorris if I come again I’ll make sure we have a proper introduction

username3: imagine all the chaos of y/n x f1 drivers 🤯

maxverstappen1: thank you for being a great guest, I’m sure we could definitely arrange another trip out for you soon!!

username4: max and y/n already seem like the best of friends omg

schecoperez: loved having you root for us this weekend y/n, hopefully you’ll be cheering for red bull in the future too!

username5: y/n must’ve been good company for grandad sergio to comment 😂

username6: I’ve not even seen the footage but I just know I want y/n at every f1 race for the rest of time

ynusername: thank you for an awesome couple of days, I’m editing all my content with a huge smile on my face 💙

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername remember who your favourite driver is and to edit him handsomely

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 ofc…just for you!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 723,100 others

ynusername: new vlog is on its way, I take a tour of the paddock, spend the day in blue and see what happened when charles and max joined me for a game which left them not speaking to each other for the rest of the day

tagged: maxverstappen1 and charles_leclerc

83,291 comments

username7: how do two grown men fall out over rock paper scissors 🤦🏻‍♀️

username8: petition for y/n to just be hired by f1 - funniest video ever!!

maxverstappen1: thank you for showing people I have the ability to smile 😂

maxverstappen1: ps I’m still not over you cheating so that charles could win #favouritism

charles_leclerc: maybe y/n is secretly just a ferrari girl at heart 🤔

username9: two of my fave drivers and fave vlogger in one video…have I died and gone to heaven?

charles_leclerc: I had such a good time with you, just let me know one day if you fancy another cameo from the most handsome f1 driver to ever exist 🥰

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I do, I’ll be sure to give carlos a call!

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername RUDE

username10: not y/n already savaging charles

username11: I never want this weekend of content to end

danielricciardo: if you come back again, I call dibs on being the first for editing lessons from you

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 1,319,503 others

charles_leclerc: the perfect ending to a great week here in Baku, thank you for all the support this week ❤️🏁🏆

193,492 comments

username12: welcome back to where you belong king!!

scuderiaferrari: an amazing week charles, congratulations from the whole team ❤️

ynusername: it was awesome to see you top of the podium at my first race…enjoy your celebrations this evening 👏🏻

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there’s still time for you to come join us…

username13: charles flirting with y/n was not what I had on my bingo card for 2024

username14: charles sliding right in and stealing y/n from red bull

carlossainz55: solid drive charlie! p1 and p2 🎉

username15: someone figure out the lucky charm that won charles the race this week!!

username16: @/username15 isn’t it obvious???

landonorris: thank you for sending all that love to me mon cherie

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris isn’t it past your bedtime? 🙄

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 528,302 others

ynusername: I had so much fun the first time I just had to come for round two, shoutout to charles for giving me the ticket 🥺

62,338 comments

charles_leclerc: happy to have been able to help you out…look forward to seeing me win again this week 😉

username17: anyone else think there’s definitely something strange going on here…

maxverstappen1: can’t believe you’ve betrayed me like this y/n 💙

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 I told you she was ferrari at heart ❤️

username18: how is y/n so calm when she has THE charles leclerc practically wrapped around her finger

carlossainz55: it’s only been a week and we missed you, love the most handsome face in f1 😂😚

username19: pls lord let there be another vlog from this weekend

oscarpiastri: mclaren next week?? 🧡

georgerussell63: come and see me this weekend…my girlfriend is desperate to meet you 🙏🏻

carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 why you exposing me like this??

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I promise I’m all yours when I find you 💕🩷

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 829,004 others

ynusername: another f1 video is on its way featuring my two new favourite people, so glad to call you both friends. i think you’ll be seeing a lot more of me and f1 soon 🤫🤐

42,391 comments

username20: peep the f1 mic 👀

username21: my heart won’t take it if y/n is working for f1 now too

charles_leclerc: I could definitely get used to seeing a lot more of you around ☺️

carlossainz55: hands down the best video I’ve ever been a part of 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 thank you for being such a great sport and taking part with my crazy ideas 🫶🏻

username22: no one can convince me that charles doesn’t fancy y/n now

username23: “call you both friends” um no y/n this is not how this works

pierregasly: major fomo watching you all have this much fun!

ynusername: @/pierregasly you and estie next week??

pierregasly: @/ynusername YES YES YES

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 829,400 others

ynusername: another race week = another week of annoying these two and playing guess the ferrari as the cars go round too fast 😂🏎️

53,922 comments

username24: thank you ferrari for having y/n back 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc: you know which car mine is right?

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I say yes will you believe me??

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername no 😂 I’ll just have to make sure that I stand out from the crowd next time

username25: bit sus for y/n to be with charles as soon as the race is over 🤔

username26: I refuse to believe that this is another just friends situation

carlossainz55: if you see two ferraris I’m usually the one in front 😉

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 don’t lie to y/n like that 🙄

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you and I know the truth 😂

landonorris: come join mclaren we’re easy to spot 🧡

iamrebeccad: I’ve been doing this for nearly a year and lemme tell you y/n it doesn’t get easier

username27: rebecca implying that we’ll see more of y/n at races in the future 😩

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by username28, landonorris and 29,201 others

f1wags: our sources out on the streets of monaco have been sharing some interesting snaps of charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n before qualifying this weekend. y/n has regularly been seen in the ferrari garage the past few races, and whilst it’s been well publicised that the couple have struck up quite the friendship, could this be something a little bit more?

3,920 comments

username28: not lando in the likes 😂😂

username29: damn I knew it

username30: my heart is racing…pls someone say this is true

username31: the way he looks at her 🫠

username32: I love them so much already

username33: lando don’t just like, spill the tea if you’ve got it

username34: I’ve never shipped a couple harder in my life

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,034,482 others

ynusername: p1 in monaco, exactly what you’ve dreamed of for so long! congratulations you beautiful human, I could not be prouder of you 🏆🏁❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

89,207 comments

username35: this is it team…they’re finally confirmed 🎉

username36: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

maxverstappen1: I’ll secretly take all the credit for this and introducing the two of you 😇

username37: everyone say thank you to max for introducing my two loves

charles_leclerc: thank you for all your love and support, I couldn’t do it without you 🥰❤️

username38: I cannot wait to see the vlog of this one

username39: my life has officially peaked

carlossainz55: am I still the most handsome face in f1?? 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 🤫🤫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,490,284 others

charles_leclerc: the worst kept secret ever…from day one I always knew I was gonna get the girl 🥺💕

tagged: ynusername

78,848 comments

ynusername: you could’ve at least pretended not to be obsessed with me 😂😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you shouldn’t have looked so gorgeous then I wouldn’t have had to

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc 🤮🤮

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 you’re only jealous…I told you that y/n really was a ferrari girl at heart ❤️😂

——————

any replies, reposts or feedback are gratefully received

[officialdaydreamer00]

Aimless outing

in which you took your significant other out for a ride.

pairing: idia shroud x yuu/reader

contents: kinda short oneshot, lower case intended, this is just a spoonful of sugar tbh, everyone thank deuce for lending us his blastcycle, kinda ooc idia? idk, actually based on a screenshot in the game i'm playing and i love that lmao, reader is referred to as yuu, gender neutral reader and narrated with you/yours

★ the daydreamer speaks — my second entry for my tumblr older sibling @cloudcountry's sweet shroud summer 2024!! the worms are worming and i'm on a roll hehe ^-^

do i tag? yes, i do. my main idia liker: @edith-is-a-cat, others: @identity-theft-101 @keii-starz @xen-blank @loser-jpg @lemonchuu @dove-da-birb @twistwonderlanddevotee @escha-evenstar

remember to comment or reblog if you enjoy my work!!

"Yuu-shi, where are we going!?"

"Somewhere, anywhere! Does it really matter?"

a slow sunday and the lack of immediate tasks in your schedule was all you needed. and what better way to spend the day with your beloved than taking him out for a ride?

deuce was kind enough to lend you his blastcycle for this little trip of yours, wishing you good luck and all, and you've already gotten permission to go out from the headmage the day before, as much as you hated his gut. meanwhile, ortho was doing his best to get idia waiting outside of campus, and making sure he didn't second guess his desicions before you arrive.

and that led us to where you were now, going kilometres per hour as if gliding through the highway, feeling the cool wind of a chilly afternoon excitedly picking up your hair as the sun retreated behind the mountains. you loved the thrill it gave you, if the bright wide grin on your face was of any indications.

idia, on the other hand, was a bit overwhelmed. with his arms coiled tightly around your waist, hands trembling ever so slightly, he hid his face in your hair, not daring even a peek at the blurring surroundings.

"It's not a ride if you can't see what made it so fun in the first place, Idia! Just give it a try, then we can go back if you want."

idia stayed quiet, weighing his options. he could ask you to go back and return to the monotony of his life, safe yet nothing special. or, he could continue on this ride, just you and him on the road to an ambiguous destination.

he opened his eyes, widening as they laid on the most beautiful painting of dusk mother nature had drawn. white, pink, and orange blended together so harmoniously on a darkening blue canvas. rows of clouds lined the sky, bouncing around the little lights left of the sun onto the crashing waves the sea created.

his breath was taken away.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?"

idia could only muttered a soft 'yeah' as his eyes glued at picturesque scenery, taking in all he could for he wasn't sure he was going to see such a sight again. his tight grip on you slowly loosened, now only wrapping around your waist like a warm hug you would give him on chilly days.

the moon soon made its appearance as the canvas of nature was painted black, stars glimmering from beyond like diamonds in the sky. the two of you was making your way back to campus, with the blastcycle's headlights and idia's hair illuminating the road.

idia found the night sky was beautiful, a lot different from dusk, but he loved it all the same.

it was a fleeting sensation of a thrill so different than what his heart was used to, but it was welcoming, a comfort even. especially when you were there with him, laughing without a care and genuinely living in the moment.

it was a memory he wished to never forget.

[hard4ndsoft]

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐦 | 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

pairing: lando norris x f!surfer!australian!oc!

summary: isabela's part of the red bull surfing team and she's been invited to the austrialian gp with her teammate audrey. well it looks like she caught lando's eye.

fc: keilani lizbeth

an: english is not my first language so excuse me for all mistakes. hope u like it.

isabelamoore posted on their story

capition 1: guess whos going on the aus gp!!! @/audreybailey capition 2: thank u @/redbullracing💙🧡

replies:

redbullracing so happy to see u in the redbull garage 🥰

isabelamoore thanks again! ❤

jasmineadams where's my invite?

isabelamoore well you're not interested in f1

jasmineadams im kidding HAVE FUN GIRL

yourusername THANK YOUU I WILL

maxveratappen1 so excited to see u again

yourusername redbull bitches reunion

maxverstappen1 please don't say that its weird

yourusername ur boring

messages lando and max

messages isabela, jasmine, audrey

isabelamoore 📍melbourne

liked by jasmineadams, landonorris and 27 341 others

tagged: audreybailey

isabelamoore we're defenitely not lucky charms

comments:

audreybailey well it was really fun

isabelamoore yeah 😭😭

maxveratappen1 since when do u support ferrari?

yourusername charles leclerc not ferrari

maxveratappen1 yeah whatever🤨

user1 her fangirling over charles is so real

jasmineadams fav drivers on podium 🤪🥳

isabelamoore girl don't act like u know f1

jasmineadams okay☹️😖🥲

user2 redbull champions supporting eachother ❤❤

user3 lando norris what are u doing here 🧐🧐

user4 i though im the only one who noticed 😭

landonorris great podium right?

isabelamoore tricky question

user5 lando making the move

user6 user5 BAHAHS

user7 im sure max introduced them

messages isabela and lando

few months later

landonorris 📍australia

liked by charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri and 2 394 835 others

tagged: isabelamoore

landonorris took surfing leson or two

comments:

isabelamoore ewwwwwww

isabelamoore you're my cutie patootie

landonorris STOP CALLING ME THAT

user8 WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

isabelamoore my personal photographer🧡 love uuu 🧡🧡🧡🧡

landonorris love u more babe ❤

user9 her using mclaren color😭

user10 my favourite couple already

isabelamoore cute but redbull is the best team right?

landonorris whatever helps u sleep hun

isabelamoore lando u stupid bitch

landonorris MCLAREN IS THE BEST TEAM

isabelamoore u're the one drinking 38261 redbull dayly

landonorris oh shut up

user11 guess its the end of lando norizz jokes

user12 im sorry but i'll never stop

maxverstappen1 now im waiting for my 'thank u max'

landonorris u didn't do shit

maxverstappen1 what do u mean i didn't do shit

landonorris like literally u did absolutely nothing

isabelamoore 📍australia

liked by jasmineadams, maxverstappen1 and 210 528 others

tagged: landonorris

isabelamoore life lately 🌺☀🧃🐚🐬👙🫧

comments:

landonorris u might have an obsession on me

isabelamoore oh definately ❤❤

jasmineadams fav couple 🫶

isabelamoore who is lando norris

jasmineadams guess a gardener

landonorris ???

audreybailey left me for some random guy😢

isabelamoore 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

maxverstappen1 u know that's illegal?

isabelamoore u winning all the time is illegal

audreybailey tell him sis

[daily-bdoubleo]

[Day 25 pt1] Hermitaday daily hermit collab! Bdubs is inviting all his friends and everyone to his house!

.

Grab the most recent version from the notes and add to it! I’m excited to see how this goes! Everyone’s welcome to join even if you’re not tagged but if you post it’d be awesome if you tag a couple more people in too! I’m going to Reblog again at the end of the day ❤️

Tags: @daily-tango-doodles @daily-ethoslab @dailyboatboys @hermitcraft-daily

.

Have fun and thanks for playing!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Graduation challenge.

What's A Little Grand Theft Auto Between Friends?

Prompt: Graduation | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Nudity for Comedy, Smoking, Brief Mention of Underage Drinking | Tags: Post S2, Class of '85 Graduation Party at the Quarry, Randomly Teaming Up, And Then Having Fun Together, Steve Gets an Alternate Introduction to Eddie's Hot-Wiring Skills, Steve Ain't Body Shy, He Spent Too Many Years in Locker Rooms, Pre-Steddie

Coming tonight was a mistake, he's realized, because Steve isn't comfortable with this crowd, not anymore. 

Decision made: He's leaving.

He places his plastic cup down on the open tailgate of a truck he's passing by.

"Thanks for the trash, Harrington," comes the snapping snarl, and Steve stops. He hadn't realized there was anyone sitting in the back of the truck. But there's Munson, in all black, blending into the night. The only thing visible, the cherry on the end of his lit cigarette.

"Sorry, man," Steve says, leaning up against the side of the pickup, "I didn't want to just, you know, throw it on the ground."

"How noble," Munson says, dripping with sarcasm.

Steve's too tired for another snotty showdown. Graduation party at the quarry sounded neutral enough, but he was wrong. He's done dealing with everyone, and everything, from Hawkins High.

Except Henderson and the kids. But they haven't started HHS yet, so they totally don't count, and tonight he can hate everything about the place.

Including the crown prince of shitty attitudes, Eddie "The Freak" Munson. 

Steve takes the few steps back, grabs the cup, slings the beer that was mostly untouched into the grass. Holding up the empty cup to show Munson he's corrected this horrible offense. 

"That's more like it," Munson says, cigarette dangling from his lip.

"Well, that's my cue," Steve says, and keeps walking.

"Wait! Wait a second," Munson asks, no demands, and Steve has no idea why he even thinks about going back, let alone does it.

But he does.

Backpedaling the few steps until he can almost see Munson again.

"What?" Steve asks. 

"You leaving already?" Munson questions, and Steve just bobbles his head, because yeah, obviously.

"Can I get a ride back to town?" Munson asks, and Steve arches an eyebrow.

"Is this not your truck?" Steve asks.

"Nope," Munson answers, and Steve's hand flies up to toss the empty cup right at Munson's forehead.

Munson bats it away, laughing, as it clatters around noisily in the truck bed.

"You're a dickhead," Steve says, but then just wheels his arm around, silently telling Munson to hurry up if he's coming. Munson grins, wide and wolfish, hopping over the side with ease, landing on both feet with a resounding thud.

Then he holds out his arm in a sweeping after you gesture. Steve shakes his head and starts walking back to his car, hoping like hell he's not blocked in.

He is. 

"Well, shit."

"I got this," Munson says, trying the doors of both cars boxing them in, nearly touching bumper. Billy and Tommy, of fucking course. 

The Camaro is locked, but Tommy's isn't, and Munson slides into the driver's seat. Curious, Steve sinks into the passenger seat. 

Munson pulls out a multi-tool of some kind, and before Steve has a chance to realize exactly what he's doing, Munson has the cables pulled out from under the dash.

"Holy shit," Steve says, leaning closer, "where'd you learn to do that?"

"Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore I wouldn't wind up like he did, but they wanna be dickheads? We'll all be dickheads. What's a little grand theft auto between friends?"

Friends. They aren't friends, and Steve's aware of that fact, acutely. But he'd be lying if it didn't feel kinda nice to hear from someone, even as a lie.

So, Steve grins, "Not a thing. Friend."

Eddie backs up Tommy's car, then pulls the wires, killing the engine. Afterwards, he stuffs everything back up under the dash. 

"Won't that-" Steve starts.

"Yup," Eddie answers, "gonna be deader than shit and he's gonna have no idea why."

"My man," Steve says, holding up his fist, and Eddie eyes him, but eventually bumps it back. "Thanks. This is hilarious, and he'll never suspect me. Like, I can't do that, and Tommy knows it."

"That's why it's good to have shady characters on your side, Harrington."

"Guess so," Steve agrees, and once they're back in Steve's car, Steve backs up, pulling away, easily.

Eddie digs his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, "Can I?"

"Only if you light me one," Steve answers, watching as Eddie slides the cigarette along his own bottom lip, into his mouth, puffing as he lights it, then reaches over to place it between Steve's parted lips.

Steve feels funny about it, in a way he doesn't exactly understand, just for a second, before shaking it off.

"So, why was King Steve bailing so early tonight?" Eddie asks.

"Eh, I don't know. Guess I realized I'd graduated and had no interest in seeing any of those assholes again."

"Well, I didn't graduate, but same."

"You didn't graduate?" 

"Nah, maybe the third time will be the charm," Eddie answers. "Going from King Steve, to running as fast as you can. I'm proud of you, big boy."

It's so unexpected, Steve's sure he looks stupid, before he busts out laughing, "Well, that's a new one."

"Really? Are the rumors not true? I'll be so disappointed," Eddie asks, looking dramatic, feet now resting on Steve's dashboard. Steve doesn't have the energy to tell him no.

"What rumors?"

"About your big dick, man. Girls talk. I listen."

What? That's. What?

"Well, I gotta piss, so you can take a gander for yourself, I guess," Steve banters, parking and hopping out of the car along the dirt road. 

He knows Eddie doesn't actually wanna look, but two can play this game.

So, Steve doesn't go to the trunk, to the cover of darkness. No, he heads right up front, illuminated by headlights, and takes his dick into his hand. Lays it on his palm, like he's presenting it.

He looks through the windshield, but can't really see Eddie's reaction. Bummer.

But, then Eddie's hand pops out of the passenger window, giving him a big thumbs up.

And Steve tosses his head back, laughing.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[sickslimez]

STILL IN LOVE! #1 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

ex husband! who stops by your house to drop your kids off after their weekend with him. He’s walking your daughter, Naya, and Megumi to the front door, smiles adorning their chubby little faces. “Hi, mommy!” Naya giggles, running to hug you. Toji is walking slowly behind Megumi, ruffling the little boys hair.

“Hi, baby.” You smile, kissing her cheek. “You two have fun with daddy?” You hug Megumi as well, kissing the top of his head.

“Yeah, we met dad’s new girlfriend,” the little boy casually says as he walks past you and into the house to place his stuff down. Your raise your eyebrows in surprise, eyes following your sons figure before he disappears into the house.

“She’s in the car! Her name is Yoko!” Your daughter giggled before following her brother. You awkwardly clear your throat as it was only you and toji standing outside.

“Girlfriend, huh?” You force a smile, rubbing your palms on your jeans as you stare at him.

“Yeah, those two beat me to it before I could say anything,” he chuckled. “How was your weekend, though, mama?” He tilts his head slightly. The familiar nickname now a normal thing between you two ever since you gave birth to your two kids. From the looks of it, it seems like Toji won’t break out of the habit of saying it.

"Wow, well...congrats." You smile. There was a burning sensation in your chest, a ringing in your ears as you stared at the man in front of you. It was wrong of you to feel this way about the situation, to feel jealous. Toji was your ex husband, you two cut ties over a year ago.

"Yeah, thanks." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The thing about you and Toji is that there was still something there that neither of you wanted to confront. The sex that you both still had with each other wasn't just casual sex, him whispering in your ear how much he missed you. How he'd hold you after and gently kiss your lips reminded you of the times you were still together. The nights he slept over and stayed for breakfast, bonding like one big family. How he still brought you gifts for your birthday and valentines day despite not being together. You weren't sure what to make of it, but knowing Toji, you knew not to take him seriously.

He was a player before you met him and you wouldn't be surprised if he ended becoming a player again. And that was the case exactly. As much as you told yourself not to fall for all his little tricks, you still found yourself doing it anyway. He was your husband for over five years, he was the father of your children. How could you not? It's why you feel so jealous now. It only seems that he was using you and playing you before he found himself another girl to entertain him. Of course, what more could you expect?

"Okay, I'll see you next weekend, mama." He turned around so effortlessly, walking off of your doorstep with a small wave.

"See you," you nonchalantly replied. Your eyes followed his figure as he got into his car, watching him kiss the new girl he had eyes for. Would it be wrong for you to say you were still in love with your ex husband?

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4ts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden

[scoonsalicious]

7.3 Major*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (unprotected piv, slight praise kink, slight size kink)

Word Count: 2.8k

Previously On...: You finally got Bucky's dick down your throat <3

A/N: Again, sorry about yesterday, besties! My spirit child took precedence. At least this is a decent-sized, smutty update!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You were pretty proud of yourself, you had to admit. You had no idea how many women Bucky had slept with over the years (and, if you were being completely honest, you really didn’t want to know), but given he was well over a hundred, you figured it had to be a pretty decent number. Yet, here he was, lying next to you, trying to recover like you’d literally just sucked his very soul out of his body. You swore you’d never swallowed so much cum in your entire life, let alone at one time. For a moment there, you’d briefly wondered if you’d be the only person in history to literally drown in cum.

You’d never enjoyed giving your ex-husband head before, but giving it to Bucky had felt almost like a religious experience. He’d allowed you to take your time, to set your own pace, and do what felt natural to you– not just grab both sides of your head and fuck your face like a fleshlight, the way Connor had been so fond of doing. Your mouth was going to be so sore tomorrow, though. It was like having a forearm in there. You laughed quietly to yourself. Totally worth it.

“What’s so funny, doll?” Bucky asked, rolling over onto his side so he could face you properly.

“I was just reminiscing about how huge your dick felt in my mouth, Sarge,” you told him honestly. 

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer to him. “Major,” he moaned into your shoulder, “you keep talking like that and you’re gonna get me going all over again.”

You smiled and scooted closer to whisper in his ear. “That cock was so big, I thought I was gonna choke on it, Sergeant.” Bucky shivered and, sure enough, you could feel the appendage in question hardening against your stomach as you spoke. He was insatiable, and you loved it.

“Come back with me to the Compound tonight,” Bucky said. “It’s closer than your place and I’m not going to be able to wait much longer to be inside of you.”

You sat up, torn between being touched that he wanted to take you back to the home he shared with his friends, and wanting to just jump his bones immediately. In the end, being horny won out. “Why wait, Bucky? We’re both already naked, and you’ve already blown one load out here. What’s a couple more?” You reached down and grabbed his semi-hard member, stroking it gently. 

“Fuuuuck,” Bucky groaned. He sat up and placed a hand over yours to cease your ministrations. “Sugar, we can’t,” he said through gritted teeth, as though it pained him to put a stop to your actions. “This is a public park. What if we get caught?”

You threw your head back and laughed at that. “Bucky,” you said through your giggling, “that’s half the fun! Besides,” you said, turning a bit more serious once you saw the concern in his eyes, “it’s after hours on a Sunday night. No one is coming to the park now. And even if they did, what are the odds of them finding us? We’re so far off trail.”

“They could see the lanterns,” Bucky said, “and follow the light. And I just… Nevermind, it’s stupid.” He turned his face from you, embarrassed. You were beginning to love the way he shied from you when he was afraid he was going to say the wrong thing.

You frowned and gently tilted his chin so he was facing you again. “What’s ‘stupid’? Bucky, you can tell me; I’m not going to judge you, I promise.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Bucky’s lips. “I just… don’t want anyone else seeing you like this,” he murmured, running his vibranium hand down your shoulder. “You look like a fucking goddess tonight, Major. I want to be the only one that gets to worship you.”

His words couldn’t have had more of an impact on you if you had been physically struck by them. “Bucky,” you whined, pulling him close to kiss him. You had a fleeting thought of self consciousness, that he’d be able to taste himself on your lips, but he didn’t seem to care as his tongue sought entry into your mouth. He kissed you like he was dying of thirst, and your lips were the only source of water for miles.

“Let’s compromise,” you told him once you’d broken apart. “We can blow out some of the lanterns, so we’re not so easy to find.” Bucky nodded, seeming to like the idea of your offer. “Then,” you continued, “you can fuck me under the stars.” 

*

The two of you must have looked absolutely ridiculous, you thought, traipsing around, completely naked, as you collected all of the things that Bucky had brought for your picnic and packing them away into the basket, save for the blankets and some pillows, giggling like idiots the entire time. You wanted to have everything packed up as neatly as possible before blowing out the lanterns, so that when it did come time to finally leave, you wouldn’t risk leaving anything behind because you’d been fumbling around in the dark. You’d both completely forgotten about actually eating dinner.

As you worked, you kept sneaking occasional glances over at Bucky, admiring the way the light rippled over his body. The man was essentially made entirely of muscle, and yeah, you’d seen him naked before, in the confines of your condo, but something about seeing all of him outside, under an open sky, did something to you. It made you feel… feral.

“You okay there, doll?” Bucky asked, causing you to refocus and clear your head. 

“Huh? Yeah, I’m good. Why?” you asked him.

Bucky smiled as he walked over toward you. “Well, you stopped moving, then got this dazed look on your face, and you were just kind of staring at my dick,” he said. Reaching you, he put his hands on your hips and playfully yanked you toward him. 

You chuckled at his apt description of what you must have looked like. “Just admiring the scenery, Sarge,” you teased. You could feel your desperation for him growing by the second. You took his hand and guided it down your body, between your breasts, down the skin of your stomach, until you had it against your aching heat. 

Bucky took the initiative of running two of his thick fingers between your folds, gathering your copious slick. “Oh, sugar,” he said, his voice almost patronizing, “you’re fucking soaked.” He brought his fingers to his lips and sucked off your arousal. “Shit, you taste so damn sinful. Be a good girl and go wait for me on the blanket while I finish up, alright?”

You nodded and did as he asked. You watched as he quickly finished gathering all the lanterns and blowing them out, one by one, until he was just a silhouette of shadow among shadows. 

“Hey, sugar,” Bucky said through the darkness as he climbed toward you across the blanket. Your eyes were adjusting to the starlight, and though you couldn’t make him out perfectly, you could see him much easier.

“Hi, Sarge,” you replied with a soft giggle as you reached for him. “Come fuck me, please.”

“Oh, doll,” Bucky purred, “I’m not going to fuck you tonight.” He kneeled down on the blanket, resting back on his heels, and, as if you weighed absolutely nothing, he picked you up, positioning you so you were facing him, straddling your legs on either side of his torso. “Tonight, I’m making love to you, Major. Put your arms around my neck.”

You obeyed him dumbly, his words having driven all rational thought completely out of your head. Bucky reached underneath you, putting his hands under your ass and using them to pull you close to his chest. “Are you ready?” he asked. 

You nodded desperately; you were practically dripping for him by this point, but something hit you. “Fuck,” you hissed. “I don’t have any condoms.”

“What happened to my always prepared Girl Scout?” Bucky asked with a grin. 

“I thought we were going out to dinner!” you told him in exasperation. “I didn’t think we’d end up fucking in the middle of the woods! I just assumed we’d end up fucking back at my place, where I have copious amounts of condoms!”

Bucky laughed at that. “Well, maybe we should both start carrying them at all times then, sugar. Just in case. Seems we’re making it a habit of not always gettin’ to a bed in time.” But then his face turned serious. “If you’re worried about diseases or whatever,  you don’t have to be– the serum, it prevents me from contractin’ anything, so I can’t pass stuff on, either. Kind of like a catch-all vaccination. The only thing we’d have to worry about is… well,” his eyes glanced down to your belly. “You know. I can always pull out before I finish, if you want.”

Just the idea of feeling him inside of you, with absolutely nothing between you, invaded your thoughts and filled your mind like a thick smoke, reaching every crevice of your brain until it was all you could think about. To actually feel him cum inside of you… “Don’t you dare,” you said, a little more sharply than you intended. “Pull out, I mean. Fuck, I wanna feel you, Bucky. All of you. I’m clean, and I’m on birth control. I can pick up some Plan B in the morning, just to be safe.”

Bucky closed his eyes and groaned. “Fuck, sugar, if you’re sure.”

You tightened your grip around his neck. “I’m so sure, Sergeant Barnes,” you said. “I wanna feel every inch of you inside of me.”

Bucky opened his eyes and looked at you. “I don’t think I’ve ever had sex without a condom before,” he confessed. “Don’t take it personal if I don’t last. It just means you feel so fucking good, I couldn’t help myself.”

You snorted at that, and Bucky grinned at you. “As long as you make sure I cum, too,” you said, kissing his jaw, “I don’t care how long you last.” You both knew he would never leave you unsatisfied.

“Hey.” Bucky jerked his chin so he was looking into your eyes again. “I’m really glad that, this first time for me without anything between me and a dame, it’s with you.”

You didn’t have words to describe how that made you feel, so you did the only thing that would properly convey the depth of your affection toward him– you kissed him as you lowered yourself onto his dick. You were so wet, he met virtually no resistance as he tilted his hips up into you. And your body, now after your… eleventh, or was it twelfth?-- time in two and a half days, knew how to welcome him.

“Holy fucking shit!” you gasped.

“What is, doll?” Bucky asked, eyes wide with concern. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

You shook your head. “Do you have any idea how deep you feel inside of me right now, Bucky?” you asked him. “It’s like I can feel you in my soul.” 

“Fuck,” he grunted, and then he started using his arms to guide you up and down on his cock, sliding himself nearly all the way out before pulling you back down on him again, and each stroke felt like ecstasy. “Damn it, doll,” Bucky said, looking down to watch where his cock disappeared inside of you, “you feel so fuckin’ good! I don’t know if I can ever go back to fucking you covered again!”

“Oh, god, Bucky,” you moaned. You didn’t know if you could go back, either, not with the way you could feel every single vein of him drag against your inner walls. His motions were deliberate, slow, gently feeding the fire instead of pouring gasoline on it the way he usually did. It was intoxicating.

“Look at me, sugar,” he begged, his voice holding a tone of longing. Your eyes met his, and despite the dark, they shone. You couldn’t look away as he pumped into you. “You’re fucking amazing, Major,” he gasped, timing his statements to match his languid thrusts. “So goddamn beautiful.” Thrust. “You make me laugh.” Thrust. “You’re brave as hell.” Thrust. “You’re independent.” Thrust. “Strong.” Thrust. “Smart.” Thrust.

He kept praising you as he increased his rhythm, hips thrusting up into you faster and faster, the whole while keeping his eyes locked on yours. The coil inside of you was tightening, constricting the expanse of your lungs, making your breath come out in shallow gasps. 

You kissed him, putting every ounce of lust into the motion, moaning into his mouth as he never broke stride and brought you closer to the edge. “Bucky,” you moaned into his mouth. “Fuck, Bucky, you’re making me feel so good, honey. Don’t stop, please!” 

“Never, sugar,” Bucky grunted back. “Fuck, wanna make love to you until the day I die.” You sucked in a breath at his words, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Bucky’s thrusts faltered. “Doll,” he said, lifting a hand to wipe the tears from your cheek, “did I say something wrong? I’m sorry!”

“No!” you cried, shaking your head as you worked your own hips to make up for his loss of motion. “No, Bucky, shit, honey, you’re saying everything so right. I’m crying because I can’t remember the last time I felt so goddamn happy.” 

Bucky resumed his thrusts with a renewed purpose. Getting up on knees, he repositioned you so you were lying on your back, his giant frame leaning over you. “Come on, sugar,” Bucky grunted as he snaked a hand down to your clit and began to rub. “Need to feel you cum around my cock. Show me how happy you are, pretty girl. Show me how good I make you feel.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow to bring your face closer to his. Grabbing a hold of the chain that held your name, you pulled his face to yours and kissed him. “‘M so close, honey,” you moaned into his lips. “Need you to give it to me.”

“I wanna give you everything, Major,” he grunted, kissing you again. And then, suddenly, it was all over for you, the coil snapping, and you were falling, shouting his name to the stars and the sky. Bucky’s thrusts lost their careful rhythm, and you could feel him spilling into you, wave after warm wave of cum pouring down your channel. 

“Fuck, sugar,” Bucky cried. “Can feel you squeezin’ me. Shit, baby– you feel so fucking good, sugar. ‘S so good, can’t stop cumming.” His words lost all meaning as they devolved into grunts and moans as he collapsed on you, his hips still thrusting as if with a mind of their own.

The weight of him should have been suffocating, but instead, you never felt safer than you did with his body splayed on top of yours. He held you to him, as though afraid that, were he to let go, you would float away on the breeze, and you felt so light after your orgasm, you very well could have. Mumbling sweet nothings into the side of your neck, Bucky’s flesh hand found your hair, stroking it. 

“Thank you,” he whispered into your skin. “Thank you so much, Major.”

You let out a shuddering breath, hands gripping the muscles of his upper back as you held him, legs finding their way around his waist. “Thank you, Bucky,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “That was everything.”

After a few moments, Bucky gently rolled off of you, but his hands never left your body as he held you close, running his fingers along the meridian of your spine. 

“How’re you feeling?” he asked you. Always considerate, always checking in. It made your heart swell with affection. Fuck, with love for him.

“So good,” you told him. You placed a gentle kiss on his pectoral. “How are you feeling? Did you have a good time?”

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Are you fucking kidding me, sugar?” he asked with mock incredulity. “Every time I’m with you feels like the best time of my fucking life. And I’m not just saying that,” he added, anticipating your incoming protest. “You… I don’t know what it is you do to me, Major. I just know that, when I look at you, things feel right, for the first time since I shipped out in ‘43. I feel like I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.”

But goddamn if this man didn’t know how to say just the right words to you. “If you’re not careful, Bucky Barnes,” you said, hoping to put enough tease in your voice to mask how sincerely you felt the words you were saying, “I’m gonna end up falling in love with you.”

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[madebycoffee]

Last year I decided to give back for my birthday, and while it was a lot of work- it was such a blast! So let's do it again lads.

Do you have a need for some deco sims? Is there something you always need but no one has made? Have an idea but don't have the time or ability to make it yourself? Then do I have the event for you!

What is the event?

Starting TODAY, May 26th, 2024 if you have a deco sim request, please send it to me via the form linked at the end of this post. DO NOT send them to my askbox! I will ignore any requests not submitted correctly! Thank you! If your request sounds like fun/inspires me I will make it, and then release the deco sims on one of the 11 days! Yeehaw!

When will this event take place?

I will begin sharing out deco sims on JULY 1st!! The final day will be my birthday, July 11th!

How many deco sims will you share out?

As many as I feel like! Last year I made 148. I would wager it'll be more this year, but it really depends on how many requests I get that I want to do!

Can I make more than 1 request?

Yes! Make as many as you want! Put them all into one request in the form, or send in multiple. :D Send them in at any point BEFORE the deadline!

The deadline for sending in a request will be Sunday, June 23rd!

Make your request via this google form! Please read the disclaimer on the form before making your request!

If you have any questions don't be afraid to ask! Anything related to this event will get the tag '#11daysofdecos2024'

If you would like to see the deco sims I released last year, check them all out here!

Other deco sims are linked on my poses & deco sims DL page!

:3

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by formula1, olliebearman, mckennagraceful and 80,944 others

view all comments

user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

liked by aubreyyang

-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

oh

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

______________________________________________________________

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[weeesi]

Empty - May Prompts (28)

[This ficlet will make sense if you’ve read Blanket and then Intuition.]

As soon as Sherlock steps into the flat, he knows. 

John’s little tells knit together: the surprised scuff marks on the rug, the mug of earl grey quickly forgotten on the kitchen table, the door to Sherlock’s bedroom left half-open. Sunbeams spilling down the hallway.

He looks at the chair. Obvious. Of course he would.

He finds John sat on the edge of his own bed, red-eyed and quiet, shoulders slumped in weary parentheses. The small box is there, ajar on his bedside table, empty.

John holds the tiny thing in his hands, rubs it over and over again just as Sherlock had done.

“I don’t know what to say,” John says without looking up.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Remarkably, he’s not ashamed or embarrassed. He’s not upset with John for finding it or even thinking to look. He hadn’t imagined the moment as this, without a barrage of anguished panic or denial from either or both of them. Truth is, he hadn’t been brave enough to imagine this moment at all.

Deliberately taking that along with him, out of everything in the flat—it’s not deniable anymore.

Any of it. All of it.

“I couldn’t exactly cut out a piece of you, could I.”

“Sherlock,” John looks at him as if for the very first time. “You did.”

+

Another ficlet for @jolieblack! That poor blanket...

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 7

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader, König x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains blood and gore, violence, injury, some body horror, and drugging. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

The climax of the story is getting closer and closer, and now you meet someone who knows what kind of place you're stuck in.

Hello!

Sorry for the long delay, but I was finally able to get back to writing! The story is slowly coming to an end and the last important character enters.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

.................................

The eerie silence of the forest penetrates every unprotected pore of your cold body like a latent sickness, as if the ominous uneventfulness would be a precursor to a deadly disease that can push you into a sick bed festering with ulcers at any moment. And you know that this calmness is only a fleeting mirage, because in every dark corner, in every hidden hole, something terrible can be lurking, which can ruin the unsettling ease with which you fled from your pursuers. Even though you're surrounded by the soft breeze of the night, the sighs of the branches dancing in the wind passing through the trees, the frightened shuffling noises of the feet of animals coming to life under the dead leaves, and even though the owls try to lull your suspicions with their melancholic songs, you already know this horrible prison all too well. And thanks to the last few hours, you won't make the mistake of trusting in its mercy again. Because in this fever dream, there is no benevolence, no compassion, only survival. And you do everything to win, because there is no other way out.

The time you spent wandering in the woods in the pitch-black night seems endless, and even though you know you're far away from the lake and the deformed creatures that turned the water into a putrid graveyard, the dull stabbing pain in your lungs reminds you of with what hurry you managed to disappear from the watchful eyes. You were just a hair's breadth away from being caught in the violent embrace of a beast, and if you hadn't found the pearls, you wouldn't have had a chance to make that daring escape with which you threw yourself into the thick of the forest before. 

If you had any hopeful foolishness left in you, you'd think the game had given up on its cruel pursuit of fun and finally presented you with a generous gift. But you know that this goddamn purgatory feeds on the sweet nectar of suffering and will do everything to squeeze every last drop of luscious misery out of your flesh and bones. And as it flashes before your mind's eye, how the red and purple stains of the damaged blood vessels drawn into the tissues disappeared from your leg following the cool caress of the beads, you become more and more certain that it was all just a morbid coincidence. Maybe even this nightmare-like torture chamber can make a mistake, because you doubt that it offered you this miracle voluntarily. Like when a bug appears in a video game, causing the world embedded in pixels to slip for a moment, and through the distorted chaos, the system reveals secrets that you should have never seen. And maybe it did. Maybe this diabolical place is finally starting to crumble under the weight of its own evil. 

But you know that now is not the time to ponder how the well-known hell will turn into a completely new kind of horror, because you only need to take a look at the map resting in your hand to know what your task is. On the yellowed page, the unknown gray building stands out with such definite outlines, as if someone had painted it there with liquid metal, and for a minute the sharp lines of the rough sketch seem to dance in front of your tired eyes. While trekking through the wild vegetation, you had time to decide where your path should lead you next, and although the knife-like anxiety in the depths of your stomach relentlessly pumps the warning acid of uneasiness into your limbs, you're aware that this new location didn’t appear without purpose. There's something there that makes this place important enough to have a prominent spot on the map, and that's enough reason for you to risk another disastrous adventure. After all, you have nothing to lose, right? A new killer, a new death, another damn mark on your skin, but a chance to find an exit. And at this point, you're ready to seize anything to get out of here.

It's almost cartoonishly comical, the way a small blood-red line on the stained page traces your journey so far, like a path sketched up with a crayon in the middle of the splotch-like woods, and this small detail only makes you even more certain that you're stuck in a grotesque game. The system keeps track of your progress, and although the knowledge that you cannot hide from the invisible gaze only increases the uncomfortable tightness in your chest, for once this atrocity has at least some benefits. For the dull edge of the gray building emerges with an uncanny glow from behind the dense curtain of foliage and branches, like a glimmering fragment of the imagination that may fade away at any moment. Even though the game follows your every move, it helped you to reach this point, and you're terribly grateful for it.

You keep your eyes fixed on the slowly approaching house with an unbroken focus as you carefully thread through the thicket of dry bushes, and it’s only due to random luck that you catch on your periphery those tiny, uncertain little blobs that rest serenely on one of the nearby trees. And when your brain finally registers the stimuli, you suddenly halt in your march, as if an unknown force had severed the nerve fibers wiring your muscles. There is something sickeningly familiar in the way the small human-like figures sway between the withered branchlets, and it dawns on you a few seconds later why your mind thought it was important to stop here. Because you saw the same dolls made of sticks at the shrine, where the map was waiting for you, and no matter how much this is a sure sign that you're moving in the right direction, you're unable to banish the instinctive sinister feeling stirring in your brain cells. At first, you thought that maybe they had erected that hideous monument in honor of the tentacled creature that lived in the lake, but now you know that they wanted to pay homage to something completely different. And whatever that unknown entity is, it doesn't bode well for you if teeth pulled from jaws, brown with blood, and clumps of hair lead to its grace.

But a completely new kind of confusion comes over you when you shift your attention from the sprawling tangle of dead twigs and finally spot the boot lying on the ground, almost hidden under the dry crown of curled leaves surrounding it. Perhaps you could chalk it up to a morbid coincidence, a background element without meaning, which fades into oblivion eventually, but the game has engraved in your mind with blood and pain that nothing here is just an insignificant detail. And as you step closer and examine the forgotten footwear, you discover those tiny, white shards on the faded leather covered in muddy dirt, which shine under the filtering moonlight like glitter. However, there is something quite unsettlingly velvety in the way the crushed pieces stand out from the grimy material, and as your vision finally sharpens enough to recognize the tiny red specks between the zig-zagged edges, you know what sits so innocently on the surface of the boot. Small pieces of grounded bones, which cover the abandoned object as if someone sprinkled it with granulated sugar. And this makes your stomach turn with such an elemental force that you stagger back from the horrible surprise, as if the very sight of it could breathe death into your cells. Because however that bone dust ended up on that unfortunate shoe, you don't want to suffer the same fate as its owner.

However, you’re jolted out of your stupor by an unexpected crack, which deafeningly pierces into the motionless quite between the tree trunks, and you crumple the map deep into your pocket with reflexive panic and turn in the direction of the noise, as if someone was pulling you on a string. And a completely impossible relief ripples through you, loosening the tennis ball size knot your stomach has shrunk into, as you find yourself face to face with an old woman, who freezes with her wicker basket full of chopped-up wood clutched to her chest, her face pale with a look of horrified shock like yours. You see the fright reflected in her eyes, as she looks you over slowly, and the thought arises in you that maybe you yourself might not present a more inviting sight than the boots. Because although the mementos of your wounds, colored with bruises, have disappeared, your dirty, wet clothes clung to your battered, paralyzed body, and at this moment you're quite sure that with your eyes widened with fear, you must remind her of a trapped wild animal.

A torturous, tense moment of stillness passes, and when you see the frail, worn-out old figure relax, anxiety releases its grip on your insides as well, and you let out the breath that has been trapped in the supple prison of your lungs with painful tension until now.

"Oh my… are you all right, sweetheart?" Comes the sincere question in a strangely accented voice, and the tenderness in her words hits you completely unprepared. And although an intimate, motherly concern moves between her features, as her thinning eyebrows meet under her gray hair with worry, you still can't suppress the flicker of doubt that whispers from the back of your skull to be careful. You don't dare to trust anything anymore, and a stranger rarely means good in this damn world. Yet, your tortured soul yearns for the tiniest spark of humanity with such pitiful force, that you involuntary let your spine loosen the painful stiffness that resides in it.

"I'm lost." You answer, carefully rolling the syllables on your tongue, savoring the caution that instinctively settles in your mouth and restrains your sociability. Although the woman seems defenseless, you already know how unnoticed a beast can hide behind the mask of sweet kindness. At best, she’s an insignificant NPC, an additional character who merely fills the void, who, like Pam and Rebecca, is condemned to eternal death, and waits unsuspectingly for the killer to appear to strip her of her aged flesh. And you want to hope that she's just a helpless puppet of the storyline and not another threat, because you want more than anything to have someone else suffer instead of you finally. Because you lost the compassion that would be appalled at this thought long ago.

"How about you come to my house?" She makes the timid offer, and as her gaze catches the thick layer of mud embedded in your T-shirt, you can see how her mouth curls into a line full of doubts. As if she would understand without asking any questions, that you've been through an endless hell that has soaked itself into your pores through the soft cotton, and can't be expressed with words. "I'll find you something warm to put on." She adds, and you feel the awareness with which she tries to dispel the restless rigidity radiating from her to not frighten you. As if she were talking to a trapped fawn, which would be able to take flight at the slightest thoughtless move, even if its shackles would flay its legs, trapped between the razor-sharp metal, alive in the process. And it makes you realize how pitiful it is, that the events of the never-ending night transformed you into a raw, pulsating nerve so easily. But you suspect that this is what has kept you alive until now.

Although the suspicion of the stranger has already settled into the depths of your consciousness, you still make yourself nod, because even if you don't know the woman and have no idea what might be hiding behind the defenseless exterior, you're aware that you're serving yourself as easy prey for the monsters in the forest.  And you know it's only a matter of time before they catch a scent and appear breathing down on your neck.

"Alright... Come on, I don't live far from here!" She motions towards the building resting in the distance with her head, and you immediately know where her home could be. And if you had doubts, now you're quite sure, you've become involved in a new storyline, no matter how accidental this unexpected meeting seems. The game can always surprise you with new horrors, but as merciless as this world is, it's also as predictable. Because it's addicted to its habits, and you have learned to interpret its hidden signs. There are no coincidences, only tools that lead to your doom. And if you were already on your way to another trouble, then you let yourself be lead into its open mouth.

She hesitates for a few seconds, waiting to see if you change your mind and retreat into the desolate depths of the forest, but when you continue to stare at her like statue frozen in place, she turns around with the ghost of a small smile on her face, and beckoning you with her knobby fingers, she aks you to follow her. And you join her a moment later, keeping that respectful distance that speaks more to the mistrust swirling in your belly than to the thoughtfulness you feel for her. Perhaps an onlooker would think that you're just a scared little girl tagging along with her in the maze of tree trunks, but you feel the energy slithering through your legs, ready to run off at the very first odd move. You may be a slow learner, but you could repeat this lesson even after waking up from a dream. Don't let yourself be fooled. Because you've outlined the ideal possibility, but even the whirlwind of your imagination cannot authentically paint the worst-case scenario for you.

After a few meters spent in wordless peace, as the last remnants of the wild vegetation, frozen from the autumn cold, disappears, the concrete building, for which you decided to drag yourself through the goddamn forest, emerges almost abnormally in the small clearing. It stands out from the dark foliage as strikingly as an old silver ring forgotten in a black velvet box, and there is something quite unsettling about the way the tiny windows stare down at you from the monotonous walls. Like hungry mouths, waiting for a victim that they can grind up with their glimmering glass teeth. And you notice, what grotesque similes your brain is making, but you're unable to suppress the voice in your head that tells you, that there is no one in this artificial world who would call this their home with peace of mind. Because the structure looks more like a slaughterhouse with its inhospitable, barren frame, on which the holes from the crumbling plaster and the dry carpet of faded lichens bordering them gape like scars left behind by smallpox. The building may have been standing here since the game's universe was created, and in light of this, it’s even more baffling to you why it appeared only now.

But you can't ponder on that now, because you reach the house, and the old woman hurries to the shabby entrance with an agility that belies her age, pushing in the thick wooden panel covered with flaking red paint with a light movement, and opens the door of her home to you with the same helpfulness with which she led you here until now. Even though she doesn't say a word, you still understand the gentle plea with which she invites you in, because you see the worried light dancing in her eyes, with which she examines the uncertainty glued onto your features. And you want to believe in this softness more than anything, but what helps your leaden legs move the most is the knowledge that you know you can't turn back. Because Johnny and Simon are out there looking for you, and even if you were to avoid them, you'd already delved into a new thread of events. And you fear how the game would punish you if you were to deny its generous gift. Therefore, gathering all your remaining composure, you force the faint curve of a weak smile into the corner of your mouth and head towards the interior of the house, fighting the instinctive feeling that makes it seem like you're walking straight through the entrance to the scene of your execution.

As you cross the threshold made of rickety boards, the characteristic smell of old houses snakes into your nose, the fusty stench of moisture that has soaked into the walls over the decades and the stale essence of powdery, old perfumes, which awakens nostalgia in you with an almost visceral force. And there is something extremely homely about the old chest of drawers, forgotten in the small hall, and about the lace tablecloth spread on the top of it, chewed by time, on which a bouquet of worn plastic flowers sits in a glass vase, like the last witnesses of a couple of long gone, sentimental memories. The old nick-nacks accumulated over the years rests in neat order, and even on the walls, the frames, covered with pale gold, hang with measured precision, with black and white photos of unknown people in them, testifying that perhaps, according to the story, the woman might not have lived here alone once. They looking into the camera with blank expressions on their grim faces, and you swear that they're staring into your soul with their dull, dot-like eyes.

And when the woman rushes past you towards the inside of the house, disrupts the thin layer of dust that settles on the worn surface of the furniture, and as the musty smell traveling with the tiny particles settles into your nose, it occurs to you that, despite the homely atmosphere, it's as if no more than a few stray ghosts would actually live here. And your subconscious warns you about this small intuition, which makes you sneak after your host with careful cat-like steps, like a curious child who knows she's straying into an area that adults have told her a thousand times not to venture near to.

The lamp hanging from the ceiling is the only source of light as you enter the kitchen after the the old woman, and the light bulb casts filmy, yellow rays from under the milk-like porcelain onto the battered furnishings of the little room. She’s already busying herself, and shoves chopped pieces of wood into the dilapidated stove, scaly with peeling white paint, glancing over her shoulder as she hears the shuffling of your shoes on the worn linoleum.

"Sit down, I'll make you some tea to warm you up!" She speaks up, and by now all uncertainty has disappeared from her voice, giving the impression that it was not a torn stranger, but an old friend who appeared in front of her humble abode in the middle of the night. And, as she digs out an ancient teapot from one of the cupboards, and the faucet turns on with a loud creak, as she steps to the sink and fills it with water, you wonder what will come next. Now you can't rely on your routine, with which you were able to tell exactly which breath followed the other in the cabin, and this creates an uncomfortable, gaping hole in your insides. And that sends a robotic rigidity into your limbs as you walk over to the table in the middle of the kitchen and settle down in one of the thick oak armchairs, because fear begins to twist in the bottomless pit that anxiety has opened in you, as your eyes scan the room for danger. You should feel bad that you're so persistently looking for a trap in the woman's hospitality, but you have experienced firsthand how big a mistake it is when you let yourself to be overconfident.

"A few minutes and it's done." She comments on her haste, and turning towards you, she leans against the shabby kitchen counter, finding you with her searching gaze again. Now that you have entered the scene of another dangerous mission, your consciousness automatically accepts the stimuli that your brain may have tried to push away until now. And you see the sparks of interest swimming through the pools of her eyes, but despite the soft expression still sitting on the worn face, the stress is too strong for you to let your guard down. You'd like to think that only your paranoia brings out this visceral suspicion, but you're smarter than that. "How did you get lost?" She formulates the completely legitimate question, and your ear once again discovers the accent that, despite the light tone, gives her words harshness. As if tiny little pebbles would be gurgling in her mouth, making every consonant flow out a little harder from her paper-thin lips. Maybe Russian?

"We just went for a walk with my friends. I lost them." You finally break your silence with a half-truth, which is just honest enough so that your tone is not colored by the sound of lies. You have no reason to tell her what happened during the endless torture of the past hours, and you have a gut feeling that it wouldn't help you if you mentioned to her what kind of monsters this demonic place has entwined your fate with.

And when the telltale shadows of doubt creep across the old face, you become quite sure that you have made the right decision. You can tell from the little quiver that makes the corner of her mouth twitch that she doesn't believe you, but there's just enough goodwill in her not to try to inquire further. You see how suddenly her throat jumps as she swallows the demanding questions, and you're quite sure that she knows exactly what happened to you. She must have resided in the middle of the forest long enough to know its every evil nook and cranny, and you doubt that her innocent facade is what has kept her alive. Whatever the purpose of this storyline, it is not a coincidence that she lives here in the middle of nowhere, and there is even less chance that it was thanks to some harmless tricks that helped her home to stay so undisturbed. This also raises a series of dangerous assumptions in you, and you can almost feel how the buzzing of suspicion in your head sharpens as a result.

A sudden whistle interrupts the thread of your thoughts sinking into ever darker pits, and the woman, breaking your silent examination, settles back into her caring role, turning to the teapot angrily steaming on the stove amid soft curses. And you take advantage of this to explore the hidden corners of the room, searching for small signs that can reveal what you're dealing with. It’s quite obvious that another important clue will be hidden here, and you have to do everything you can to find it, because you don't know how much time you have until the two men or another killer find you, one who has been lying dormant waiting for the opportunity to play with you until now.

And now that you take a closer look at the room, you discover more and more little details you missed when you wandered in here. You can see the touch of old hands in the order that resides in the small hole of the kitchen, but you can spot the silky blanket of spider webs that weave the plates decorated with flowers on the shelves, as if no one has used them for decades. There are rich bouquets of dried plants hung on nails on the wall, but below them, you can clearly make out the yellowed newspaper articles written in a language unknown to you, on which the same black and white people you saw in the hall look back at you. And when you squint and try to observe the figure emerging from under the withered flowers of one of the herbs, you see how a little boy, dressed in old-fashioned clothes, is cut through by the unknown mark, which almost decapitates him with the edges engraved with graphite. At first, the drawing may seem like a simple scribble, but you recognize the needle-sharp points of a star in it, as if someone had carved a grotesque crosshair there…

The knocking of the mug's porcelain jolts you out of your investigation, and you wince with the surprise of a small child caught in mischief, turning your gaze back to the woman, who takes her seat across from you with a much tighter smile than before. And the tenderness on her face turns into something completely cold, as if only habit would keep the friendly curl in the corners of her mouth in place, and the softness that used to be able to inspire sympathy in your soul has disappeared from them. Now her expression transforms into sharp lines, which are deepened into gloomy furrows by the yellow light filtering down from the lamp, as if would the woman transform into someone completely different in an instant. Someone you shouldn't be around.

"Drink up. It will help." She pushes the cup towards you, and you know it's not just your ears when you feel the impatient tone in her voice, from which the offer sounds more like an instruction than a well-meaning nagging. And you don't react for a tense moment, and despite the anxiety churning in your stomach, you try to keep your cool, because now you recognize the fleeting shadow that hides under the gentle warmth. Like a hawk waiting to strike, she follows your movements as you wrap your fingers around the handle of the mug, but she can no longer deceive you, because you've seen the same expression before. Although it's not Johnny's handsome face and the sparks of his sky-blue eyes that want to divert the suspicion that is scratching your insides, the disguise of an old woman feigning cordial concern would just as effectively put anyone's doubts to sleep. But she can put on any mask, you're already able to distinguish the vileness under the sickly sweet surface. And this woman wants to hurt you, you're sure of that.

Still, you pull the steaming beverage in front of you with almost automatic movements, trying with every cell not to let her figure out that you suspect something. You need her to reveal herself, because that's how you can get her to lead you to the clues that can get you out of here. There is something hidden in this damned house, and you feel it in your bones that it’s important to find out what it is. All your fake innocence seeps into the way you touch your mouth to the porcelain, and the luscious scent of herbs and fruits snakes into your nose. And although you don't feel the sting of poison in the steamy clouds rising from the tea, it fills you with a bad foreboding when the woman leans forward with artificial benevolence frozen on her face, watching with almost intrusive interest how you start sipping the hot liquid. And you feel more and more tense with each passing second, like an ant stuck under a magnifying glass, which has just begun to feel how the rays of the sun breaking through the lens burn its legs into charcoal stubs. And you see the dissatisfaction when you hesitantly lower the cup.

"Drink it all. You need it." She encourages you, almost cooing, and her accent is more reminiscent of an impatient mother who tries to dictate medicine to her protesting child with a barely controlled temper. Gentle, but just as much as boiling water forgotten under the lid. And you feel how the little hairs rise on the nape of your neck, as her glassy eyes fixate on you with unblinking persistence.

Uncertain silence settles in the tiny kitchen, which makes the saliva in your mouth thicken into molasses as you return the woman's stare. Under the flickering light of the old bulb, everything seems to change, and out of the corner of your eye, it looks as if the flowers painted on the wall would turn into wax, dripping off the plaster dirty from grease. But you’re unable to turn your gaze away from her, as she studies you with the immobility of a predator, and you have to forcefully suppress the trembling that awakes in your hands as you raise the mug to your lips and take another small sip. And the excited light that passes over her features does’t escape your attention for a minute, as she follows the almost painfully sweet liquid traveling down your throat. And now you're sure that no matter how harmless this elderly woman seems, evil is hidden under her frail frame. Because the pearls hidden in your pockets come to life with an almost warning glow, as the strange, bitter aftertaste sits on your taste buds, which the sugar has been able to suppress until now.

Under the pulsation of the little red spheres, the light buzz, that the brew wants to envelop your brain in, has no chance of spreading, but you know you have to pretend that she was successful, whatever she smuggled into your drink. Because there's a reason why she's trying to knock you out, and maybe if you make her believe that you let her trick you like an unsuspecting fool, then she'll reveal what she's up to. That's why you let the fatigue throbbing in your limbs creep onto the fibers of your muscles, numb with lactic acid, and you let the exhausted yawn loose that, now that you're finally resting, falls through your mouth sincerely. And you hear that satisfied little hum with which the woman finally leans back, when she assesses the unexpected force of the sleepiness washing over you.

"Perhaps it would be best if you stayed here for the night." She offers, and there is nothing to unsure about the way she presents her proposal to you. A selflessly offered opportunity, behind which lies a statement to which no opposition is expected. And it’s exactly this determination that dispels the previous softness, and fills her old joints with an almost youthful energy, when she springs up and starts towards the kitchen door, giving you one last, almost painfully fond look. "You just stay here and rest." She adds, and you feel nauseous from the kindness under which the poison of cruelty ripples, and which creeps into your ear canals with snide unsolicitedness.

When, after an uncertain nod, you lay your head down on the table with languid weakness, she hurries away towards the maze of the corridor giggling, with such immense glee, as if an unexpected present had fallen into her lap. And you, closing your eyes, order every part of your body to remain motionless in anticipation, slowing your breathing to a trembling evenness, listening through your own shivering for the woman's footsteps. You have to remain unnoticed because you're sure that if she realizes that her tea has failed to relax you enough, she'll come up with something much more painful to get the desired effect. You're not sure what her goal is, but you don't have time to create unnecessary excitement for yourself.

For minutes, only the soft puffs of the air flowing through your nose fill the room shrouded in an almost disturbing quietness, but despite your pulse pounding in your ears with an almost deafening noise, you wait until all the sounds die down between the old walls. And when you decide that you have wasted enough time, you carefully push yourself away from the worn furniture and stand up with your eyes fixed on the shadows beyond the door, watching for an unexpected visitor with every move you make. But, when nothing happens, and only the low buzzing of the light bulb and the hooting of the owls filtering in from outside travel through the empty house, then you sneak towards the hallway.

As you step out onto the corridor, it takes a few uncertain seconds for your eyes to get used to the dense darkness, and when you're finally able to make out the pitch-black outlines of the furniture, you set off into the unknown. The age-old parquet floor creaks under your shoes, reminiscent of the soft squealing of a mouse, and with each step you take, the presentiment tightens its grip on your insides. Because you have no idea where the old woman could have gone, and the fact that she can appear from behind any of the doors lined up next to each other is just enough to awaken the needle-like prickling of stress in your muscles. As if a thousand tiny ants would be crawling under your skin, and clenching your teeth, you fight the tempting compulsion to escape. You know you're wading into the swampy abyss of certain danger, but you also know you have no other choice. And not finding a clue is not an option. You have to move on or you'll be stuck here forever.

You wouldn't be able to tell how deep you ventured into the uninhabited house, but everything turns into an unsettling uniformity as a dull entrance follows another insignificant door, and the pictures hanging on the walls serve as your only companions in your wanderings.The lifeless eyes following you send shivers down your spine involuntarily, because although they're nothing more than the imprints of strangers lingering in the past, yet there is something bleak in the faces of the people on them. But when you discover something familiar, you stop dead in your tracks to take a closer look at the many of photos hidden in the frames, and you don't have to think long to recognize the boy from the kitchen. Although he may be much older here, and the childish roundness of his face has already been banished by the hormones of adolescence, but the light eyes stare at you with the same stern expressionlessness as they did from the shadows of the herbs. There is something hard in them, something angry, lurking beneath the frozen stillness, waiting to strike. And the longer you stare, the more the unpleasant feeling intensifies in you, which plants the impossible idea in your mind that the next moment he will come to life and, reaching through the scratched glass, wraps his pale, thin fingers around your neck.

A thunder-like bang tears into the empty quiet of the building, and you, shaking in terror, break out of your paranoia-woven imagination to spin around and start searching for the noise with the alarm of a frightened animal. And when the sounds don't die down, but are enriched by the clanking of a chain and the murmur of a muffled conversation, then you come upon the worn door, ajar, on the tattered surface of which a star-like scribble greets you, roughly sketched up with blood-red paint, the same that someone drew on the boy in the newspaper article. And you become aware with an uncomfortable certainty that the game has finally revealed your next destination to you, no matter how much every cell of yours protests against venturing towards the source of the increasingly loud clamor.

Every single nerve of yours tenses as one, as you move closer, keeping your eyes fixed on the cracked varnish clinging to the wooden surface, considering each step before the next, and the closer you stray, the sharper the violently snapping words become, and even though you don't understand them, you can feel the simmering ire in them. You open the door with your trembling fingers wrapped around the doorknob, and the saliva crawls down your dry throat almost like shards of glass, when you try to dispel the lump that has grown there. But nothing welcomes you, only a set of stairs covered in faint light, which leads you down into the uncertain darkness, and you feel the force of fear twisting your guts, as you muster up your courage and set off to the rickety steps.

The lower you go, the wider the hidden world of the basement opens up in front of you, and the more painful the horrible smell, mixture of the sweet stench of rot and the sting of sweat, pierces your nose. With each breath, the stagnant, moldy air penetrates deeper into your lungs, and if your brain weren't occupied by terror, you would wonder what kind of disease you're filling your chest with so voluntarily. Although to your own ears, every noise your shoes mak on the old stairs is ear-splitting, you know, even through the uncontrollably roaring fear inside you, that the sounds of your arrival will be drowned out by the wild discussion unfolding on the other side of the wall bordering the stairs. You recognize the woman's voice in the furious foreign expressions, but that's not what makes you halt hesitantly on the last step. It's that unexpected, raspy male baritone that stops the momentum of your curiosity from taking you any further, because even though you can't see the face associated with it, you feel the deadly threat traveling in the growl-like rumble.

"ублюдок!" The woman erupts, and even you cringe instinctively from the caustic rage that sits in her tone. "You ungrateful wretch!" She spits in a way that you finally can understand, and you hear the crunch of the dirt and dust sliding under her shoes as she take a step forward, as if she were moving closer to someone, but further away from your impromptu hiding place. "I should have let them take you!" The end of the heated cursing snaps, and with this the stormy exchange of words turns into painful silence, as if the shadows hiding on the dirty floor had absorbed not only the rays of the faintly flickering light, but also the sounds. And from this, even you know that something came out of the woman's mouth that shouldn't have.

The basement falls into an icy stillness, and the tiny hairs on your skin rise as you lean against the wall and listen, wondering if you made a mistake by coming down here. However, as your frightened eyes wander around the dimly lit room, you discover something in one corner that catches your eye with its golden glow. And you lean forward like someone who has been mesmerized, trying to decipher through the dying light of the old bulb hanging on the ceiling, what might be hiding in one of the shelves under the piled-up, dusty mountain of junk. And the relieved joy that washes over you when you notice the lost key that leads to Johnny's attic, is almost ridiculous, and for a fleeting moment, you're sure that it's just your eyes playing games with you. But the tiny little object winks back at you with an unmoving serenity a few long seconds later, and you already know what your task is.

"Oh, my little boy... don't be angry! Mommy loves you, you know that, right?" You hear the apologetic shush, and you're filled with an ominous feeling as you lean forward from behind the wall, clinging to the crumbling bricks, to see how safe it is to get the key. And your eyebrows knot together in confusion when you're greeted by nothing more than the old woman, who, stepping towards one of the dark corners, spreads her arms as if waiting for someone to fall into her arms. Although at first, you're sure that age and loneliness have warped her mind so much that she imagines one of her loved ones in the shadows, but as your gaze falls on the mattress, brown with dirt, lying by the wall, and the plates soiled from the rotting leftover food, you dismiss your naive assumption. Someone is here, and based on the dried, yellowish stains on the torn bedsheet, they weren't forced to retreat here now. But you don't care about that. Whoever is imprisoned here, you're not here to help them.

"I found a new friend for you... She is much prettier than the previous ones! You want to see her, don't you? If you're a good boy, I'll bring her down for you... You do as mommy says, yes?" The woman continues, mumbling the kind words with an almost atoning tenderness, and it becomes painfully clear that whatever lives down here, this old bitch tried to drug you because of it. And when you remember the boot sprinkled with bone dust found in the forest, you banish the idea of thinking about what could have happened to those who were dragged down here before you. You have more important things to do than brood over the deaths of imaginary strangers… as cruel as that may sound.

But just as you finally take the first brave step and leave your hideout with careful stealth, the chain rattle comes to life again, and you freeze, forgetting about the key, when a dull crack silences the old hag. Like when a ripe, juicy melon cracks and splits into two when a knife sinks into it, but deep down you know that it's not fruit juice you hear splashing on the floor in fat drops. And you're unable to resist the pull of fear, which draws you in the direction of the noise against your will, but as soon as you see the woman slowly staggering back from the dark corner, you immediately regret giving in to the impulse. Because when your eyes find the handle of the large knife protruding from her head, you clamp your hands to your mouth, trying to force back the horrified scream that rises in your throat. 

The woman clumsily stumbles backward, and you see the uncertain surprise in the trembling hands with which she reaches for her hair, slowly covered into a crimson veil from the blood, touching the wooden handle almost in disbelief. And there is something quite pitiful in the way she turns around in confusion, amidst frightened whimpers, brushing away the strands stuck to her eyes by the red streams running down her forehead. And you, swallowing the bitter taste on your tongue, take a terrified step back, as you suddenly see how impossibly tight the skin clings to the edges of the bones emerging from the sunken face, as if a parasite were about to break through a thin membrane. The pale tissues look unsettlingly papery, and you have a lingering fear that the dull, matte white of her jaw might penetrate them at any moment, as the woman's mouth opens in a silent scream. Unfocused eyes find you, and you're horrified to realize that maybe she wants to ask for help when she wobbles towards you with shaky legs, but you're frozen in terror, as you stare at her motionless, like a deer stuck in the headlights of a car. And you watch in shock, when after what seems like eternity, she, with a gurgling rattle, finally sprawls out on the dusty ground, like a sack full of rotten potatoes.

"You're finally here." You hear the hoarse voice from before, and as you look for its owner in terror, you see how a strong figure emerges from the darkness of the shadows, dragging the heavy shackle of the chain hanging from his thick neck behind him with a metallic clang. But what worries you even more than the muscles hidden under the torn clothes, is the pair of impossibly blue eyes that emerge from under the mask covering the unknown man's face, which look at you with cheerful interest, as if he had found a small bird with a broken wing. And from the cruelty glimmering in them, it immediately becomes painfully clear that he is the kind of person who would rip your wings out by the stem to free you from suffering. "I was waiting for you, Bunny."

(ублюдок (ublyudok) - bastard).

[thefallennightmare]

Mercy-Five

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Fallen Angel!OC

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, smut, mythological talk, violence.

Summary: "Blinded by a fear of feeling, these are the kings we chose. Lost and looking for the meaning, I've been searching high and low" It came crashing down on him. This is the story of the highest banished angel from where she came only to find home in the arms of a mortal man. This mortal realizing he'd face Lucifer himself to keep her.

Lethia: Archangelus Oneironaut also known as Archangel of Dream Walking. Across worlds and dimensions, she walks within. Uncovering dangerous secrets, leaving her cast out, isolated- that is until she begins to learn what it means to feel.

Authors Notes: thank you to everyone who was incredibly patient in the long two and a half months it took for me to update this. I am so proud of myself for busting through this chapter this past weekend. I am VERY excited for what's to come! Huge thank you and shoutout to @thescarlettvvitch for all the LOVELY ideas. I had so much fun creating the gif.

Tags[OPEN]: @happi-goth @thescarlettvvitch @mitchhbitch @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @lookwhatitcost @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @burning-outx @shadowseve @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @pathion @flowery-mess @tashka @malice-ov-mercy @respectfulrebel @themortaljessica @crimson-calligraphyx @blackveilomens @lyschko666 @iknownothingpeople @collapsedglasshouses @iamamatus

NOAH

With a sigh, I rolled over in bed and stretched out an arm towards Lethia, hoping to feel her warmth again but was met with cold sheets. I removed my head from underneath the pillow to see that the space next to me had been empty for a while. 

“Lethia?” I called out while rubbing the sleep from my eyes. 

Silence. 

After I got into bed with her last night and we said our goodnights, neither of us said a word. Letting the silence that encased my bedroom be the eerie white noise we needed to fall asleep. My dreams were filled with all the information I had found out moments before coming to bed and the feathers tucked away in the studio's closet. I hadn’t told Lethia what I knew, I wanted her to be the one to tell me. It was her secret to tell. 

If she ever did.

Slowly dragging myself out of bed, I let my feet guide me over to the bathroom across the hall. 

Do angels even go to the bathroom? 

I shook my head with a chuckle and peeked into the bathroom only to be met with darkness. Once I made it downstairs and through the quiet house, I noticed the back patio door open, the cool breeze wrapping around my bare legs. 

“Lethia?” I called her name again when I stepped outside. 

Just past beneath the trees to our backyard was a path that led down to the beach less than a mile away and something in my gut was telling me to follow the path. I only made it a few feet away when something black on the fence caught my eye. 

One of Lethia’s feathers. 

I hesitated slightly, not knowing if it was a good idea to touch it now knowing what I do. It would take me into a part of her memories and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to see something else I couldn’t understand. It felt as if the memories were getting stronger, more intense, and there was a part of me that feared I might not be able to pull myself out of it. 

“Fuck it,” I muttered.

With my fingers wrapped around the soft feather, I felt the darkness creep in, pulling away at my subconsciousness. My breath caught in my throat as my soul went through a black tunnel, throwing my body from left to right, and when the oxygen was constricted any longer, the white haze around my eyes cleared. I blinked rapidly before gazing around at my surroundings. 

There was an eerie calm. But the ringing in my ear caused me to cover them for a moment. It was an annoying sound but after a moment, I got used to it and pocketed my hands in my sweats. 

Movement from my right caused me to whirl around and what I saw took my breath away. 

Lethia stood in front of me, in her old form. The exposed skin from her sheer white dress was clean and innocent; not a mark of ink anywhere. 

The only way I knew it was Lethia was from her smile. It radiated comfort and solace, something I found myself falling for. There was a connection between us that I couldn’t explain and it drove me absolutely mad. I couldn't figure out why she felt so familiar. 

Lethia was standing on a mountain's edge, the soft and quiet breeze blowing through the feathers of her wings. Her hair danced over the freckles on her shoulders and from my position behind a tree, I watched as a smile graced her face. 

“I was wondering when you would show,” her angelic voice rang out. 

My heart skidded in my chest and for a moment, I thought she was talking to me and I was ready to step out from behind the tree. But then another figure stepped forward, his wings breaking the branches as he emerged from the forest. 

“It was hard for me to slip away, Lethia.” 

She turned to face the man and I tore my gaze away from her to take in the sight of the angel. Large stone gray wings extended from his back but unlike Lethia’s, he had a design to them. 

Gold lines, almost like veins, vibrated with color as he shook them out. His hair long and dark, pulled back out of his face, and Lethia brushed away a loose strand; tucking it behind his ear. From my position, I could only see the man’s back. 

The white shirt clung to the muscles as he moved his arms around Lethia to bury his face in her neck. I expected to feel jealous at seeing how close they were but instead, I felt at peace. 

“The King has you caged like one of his peasant animals,” she sighed deeply. “How can we ever be together?” 

The man gave her a small smile. “It will all be worth it, Lethia. Soon we can go wherever we like. Leave the Kingdom.” 

Her eyes widened. “Leave the Kingdom? Are you mad? Where would we go?” 

“There are places outside of here. I’ve seen them and they are gorgeous. Vast fields of green, the colors here in the Kingdom pale in comparison to what I’ve seen there. The light creates a humming glow and the sounds of the birds make you want to dance.”

The two of them began to sway, dancing in the wind, and Lethia laid her head on the man’s chest. 

“Oh, Knoa. This place sounds wonderful,” she sighed. “Can you take me there soon?” 

He kissed the top of her head. “Soon. We can create a home there, rule the two of us. Anyone who is tired of the King’s ruling will join us.” 

“How are you so sure?” Lethia gazed up at him. 

“They’re all lost and looking for the meaning. I've been searching high and low for it. Some think that we will fade into nothing, going up in the smoke, and fail. Some may think we will beg the King for a mercy that we both know he would not show.”

Blinking rapidly, I looked around to see that I was back in my backyard and it took me a long moment of staring straight ahead to process what I’d seen. Lethia was with a different angel this time, not Lucifer. 

Knoa.

Was this angel before or after Lucifer?

Pocketing the feather, I continued down the trail behind my house and towards the beach. The waves crashed against the rocks, echoing loudly into the dark sky above. There wasn't anyone on the beach and when I was ready to give up, I saw a flash of black off in the water. 

Enormous wings lapped up the salty brine of the ocean water and the figure stood with their arms outstretched. Lethia’s face made my heart leap in my throat when I took in the euphoric bliss on the soft feature of her face. 

Her wings looked heavy but the way she moved through the water at a rapid pace made it seem like they weighed nothing. I already knew what she was but seeing her in her true form silenced the lingering doubt that plagued my mind.

Lethia tip-toed out of the water, standing on the shoreline and that's when I noticed she was naked. Her perky nipples begging to be tasted and the water droplets between her breasts slipped down over her navel and towards her pussy. 

“Shit,” I muttered while adjusting my cock. 

Her crimson eyes snapped up at me and we stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us saying anything. 

“I knew it,” I breathed. 

Lethia’s lips twitched. “What?” 

Taking a tentative step towards her, her wings shook causing a gust of wind to blow through my hair. They were even larger close up and the darkness of them felt like I was staring in the depths of someone's subconsciousness. 

“I knew it,” I repeated without taking my eyes off the wings. 

“How?” Lethia questioned, unmoving. 

My eyes finally darted to her face. “I found some of your feathers and slowly things started to come together. I researched some things last night.” 

Her shoulders went even more stiff. “My feathers. You’ve seen-?” 

“Your memories,” I finished for her with a nod. “I’ve seen Oblivion, Lucifer, and Knoa.” 

Her brows furrowed while shaking her head. “Knoa?” 

“He talked to you about a new kingdom. A place where the two of you could rule,” I explained. 

The confusion never left her face and that’s when I realized she had no idea who I was talking about. For a second, I thought I might have slipped into someone else's memories but I was certain it was Lethia who I saw in that particular scene. 

“I saw you in your old form,” I closed the distance between us. 

Her lips turned down in a scowl. “Oblivion. Do you still prefer what you see in front of you now?” 

I cupped her cheek. “Definitely.” 

There was a strong urge to run my fingers through the feathers but I was hesitant. If merely touching her dropped feathers dragged me into her memories, what would happen if I touched her wings?

“You can only see my memories from a dropped feather,” she answered my thoughts. 

“Can you read minds?” I asked, not being able to hide the excitement in my voice. 

She giggled. “No, but the hesitation in your eyes was clear.” 

I raised my hand slowly. “Can I?” 

When she nodded, I let my fingers brush along the softness of her wings and marveled at how they felt against the roughness of my palm. Lethia gasped which caused me to rear my hand back in worry. 

“Did I hurt you?” 

“No,” she shuddered. “Touch them again.” 

I did and she gasped once more. 

“I can feel your touch. The roughness of your fingers on each feather,” her eyes sparkled. 

“I thought fallen angels couldn’t feel humans touch,” I said. 

Lethia nodded while linking our hands together. “I can’t feel you here but I can feel you touch my wings.” 

They encased us, protecting us from the outside world, and I felt a sense of peace fall around me. I couldn’t stop staring at them, marveled at the sheer strength and power they could possess. 

“You’re not afraid?” Her voice was quiet. 

I raised my brows. “Why would I be?”

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips and I wanted to taste them so bad but refrained with the look of disgust in her eyes. 

Not at me but at herself. 

“They’re darkness. Evil. Every part of who I am now shows my transgressions,” she said. 

“That’s not who you are anymore, Lethia,” I lifted her chin with a knuckle. “I don’t know the reason why you fell but think of it as a way to leave that part of you behind. Start fresh.” 

“Fresh,” she repeated, as if mewling over the word. 

We stayed like this for a long moment, letting the warmth of her wings block out the chill brought on by the ocean. It was then that I realized she was still naked and I let out a low cough, trying to keep my gaze on her face still. 

“Did you want to get dressed?” 

“Shit,” she cursed. “I almost forgot. I was taking a bath in the ocean. The salty brine helps my wings. They’re beginning to deteriorate from hiding my true form.” 

Stepping away with the opening, I watched in awe as the large wings retreated into her back, hidden away beneath the slits of skin. 

“Deteriorate?” I asked while she slipped on her clothes. 

My eyes cast downwards for a moment and a flash of ink on her ribs caught my attention. A green snake. 

“That’s why you keep finding my feathers. They’re falling off,” Lethia explained once fully dressed. 

Linking her hand with mine, I brought her into my chest to lay a chaste kiss on her lips. Even if she couldn’t feel it, she still kissed back with equal force. 

“You never have to hide from me, Lethia. I want to see all of you,” I said with a stern gaze. 

Crimson eyes danced between mine and with a curt nod, she let out a long breath. 

“I can’t believe you figured it out on your own.”

With a smug smile, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and began leading her back up the beach towards my house. 

“I’m quite perceptive with these things,” I informed as we slipped back inside the quiet house. 

It was nearing four in the morning and everyone was still asleep as we quietly ascended the stairs back to my bedroom. 

“Let’s get some sleep,” I suggested while tossing back the blanket. 

“Angels don’t sleep,” Lethia informed while sinking low beneath the mounds of blanket on my bed. 

Once I was lying next to her, I brought her into my chest and shivered when long black nails dragged over the tattoos. 

“Does that mean you can’t dream?” I asked. 

“Well funny story about that. One of my powers is that I dreamwalk in others dreams. I actually walked in yours a few times, unwillingly. I go wherever I’m needed I suppose. I have this familiar that follows me in every dream; leading me,” she said. 

“Wait,” I gazed down at her. “A crow? With a white stripe of feathers?”

She rested her chin in her palm. “You see him too?” 

“In my dreams. So that means when I dreamt of you, that it was actually you?” 

Her cheeks reddened, thinking back to the dreams I had of her. “Yeah. I don’t know why it was your dreams I always found myself in. There’s a lot of things I’m still trying to understand.” 

“Could you feel it when we would have sex?” I asked slyly. 

A darkness crossed her features, the one that I found myself gravitating towards. 

“Right now, I can’t feel your heartbeat,” she placed a palm on my chest. “But in your dreams, I could feel every inch of you.” 

Now Lethia’s hand dragged down my stomach, those sharp nails leaving red marks in their wake, and when she reached my cock, I hissed out in pleasure. She palmed my cock and I let my eyes flutter shut. 

“I can’t feel you physically, but I get this feeling inside of me; almost like a fire. It’s urging me to continue because I know it’s making you feel good.” 

Lethia adjusted herself so her mouth was hovering over my sweats before she hooked her fingers in the waistband, slowly dragging it down over my hips. 

“You don’t have-,” I tried to say but my voice was seized from me when I felt her cool lips around the warmth of my cock. 

She hummed but I couldn’t tell what it was for. I knew she couldn’t feel the way my cock hit the back of her throat but could she taste the precum that gathered at the head? 

Did it taste bitter? 

Was it sweet? 

Fuck, I wanted to taste her so bad.

“Lethia,” I moaned, grasping at the sheets beneath me when her tongue flattened against the base of my cock. 

Her movements were precise, like she knew what she was doing. Even if she couldn’t feel how perfect her mouth was on me, Lethia used my moans and sighs of pleasure to guide her. 

“Just like that,” I snaked my fingers through the short tendrils of her hair to keep her in place. 

Our eyes met in a blaze of seduction and the way those crimson pupils shined with curiosity of if she was doing it right, I dragged a finger over her cheek. 

“So good. You’re doing so good,” I praised. “I don’t know how it’ll affect you but tap on my thigh three times if you need me to stop.”

Lethia winked and with both hands at the base of her skull, I kept her in place to fuck into her throat. My pace was relentless as the head of my cock reached the back of her throat with ease and when her fingernails grazed over my balls, I felt my body ignite. The base of my spine tingled as I let out a guttural groan, her name falling from my lips as I came into her mouth. 

Her hums of tasteful pleasure intertwined with mine as I spilled every last drop down her throat. She let go of my cock with an audible pop and wiped away the drool from her mouth with a slick wipe of her finger. 

“You taste so fucking good,” Lethia whispered while placing tender kisses along my stomach. 

“You were able to taste me?” I asked, still breathless from my orgasm. 

She nodded with a wide smile. “I couldn’t feel your cock in my mouth but I could taste you. Everything I feel with you, I feel it here.” 

Her finger traced a heart over my own. 

“That was better than any dream,” I mused as she tucked herself underneath my arm again. 

“And no little friend watching us,” Lethia teased with a wink. 

Just to add to the humor, I made a show of looking around my bedroom for the crow with the white stripe of feathers but breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thank fuck,” I murmured while tucking us deeper underneath the blanket. 

We were quiet for a long moment until Lethia kissed the tattoos on my chest. “Thank you for being so understanding and not running away after you found out about what I am. There’s still a lot I don’t understand about myself.” 

I squeezed her shoulder. “One day at a time, angel.” 

The lines in her forehead creased when the realization of what I called her sinked low in my gut. 

“To on the nose?” I asked. 

“No, surprisingly I like it,” Lethia patted my chest before laying her head there. “Goodnight, Noah.” 

My face twitched at hearing my name on her lips but thought nothing of it as I brought the blanket higher up over us. 

“Sweet dreams, angel,” I teased with a smile. 

LETHIA

I was falling down to the depths beneath the earth. 

My body felt weightless as the darkness underneath me started to creep without warning of when I would hit the ground. I could feel my heart pounding in my ears as I reached up towards the space in front of me, hoping by some miracle I’d be able to latch onto something. 

Just as I braced for impact, the scenery changed and no longer was I falling. Instead I was standing in this unknown darkness in my angel form and my wings shook with the uncertainty of what would jump out. 

“Hello?” I called out cautiously. 

The silence was deafening and I couldn’t tell which way was right as I spun on my heels, my wings not even making a sound in this unknown void. 

“The faith and the fighter.” 

I froze at the deep voice. It sounded far away yet at the same time like it was spoken right in my ear.  

“Lighting up the streets, singing for the damned.” 

I whirled around, the voice now sounding farther away but I could feel the breath on the back of my neck. There was something so familiar about the richness of the voice but ice cold fear crept into my bones. 

“Confessing to the choir.” 

It was as if the voice was right in front of me, the warm breath fanning over my lips and I shuddered when the familiar smell tickled my nose. 

No, it couldn’t be. There was no way he could be here. He couldn’t have found me. 

Although, Maraxa did know where I was hiding and she could have easily told him where I was. 

The all too familiar heat spread in my veins that made my wings flutter, the noise absent in the darkness. He was so close now, the anger radiating off of him in droves and I nearly collapsed with how it crushed my throat, making it hard to breathe. 

Suddenly loud footsteps smacked on the ground at my feet, closer and closer. It came from in front, behind me, and on both sides. It sounded as if someone was running but I couldn’t figure out which direction. 

A face appeared out of the darkness, bathed in a red glow but the even darker circles around those eyes made a broken cry fall from my lips. 

“Bury every beast and we are born again!” Lucifer’s wicked smile spread across his face, showcasing the sharpness of his teeth. 

The scene around me shifted, the warmth now overtaking me as I found myself standing in the middle of flames. It licked up my arms but I couldn’t feel the sting of pain. Through the lick of fire, a lone figure stood out and the pain from his screams stabbed me in my chest. 

No. 

No, no, no. 

It isn’t. 

A hand outstretched towards me, begging to be pulled from the fiery depths of Hell, and my eyes took in the sight of a tattoo; some kind of mandala flower. 

“Lethia!” 

I took a step towards the hand but hissed in pain when the flames caressed my skin. 

“Please. Help me!” 

Tears welled in my eyes as his name choked on my tongue. “No-Noah!”

“You can’t save him, my sweet Oblivion. His soul is mine,” Lucifer’s voice tickled my ear. “Just like yours is about to be.” 

I woke up with a start, sitting up in bed and feeling the cool beads of sweat trickle down my back. My breathing was erratic and my veins were pumping the blood in my body so violently, I could hear it in my ears. 

Noah stirred next to me and reached for me, wrapping the mandala flower tattooed hand on my thigh. I watched as his hand squeezed but felt absolutely nothing. Then that hand reached up to cup my cheek, dragging his thumb over the sharpness of my cheekbone. 

Once again not able to feel anything. 

I watched as his hand wrapped around behind my neck, bringing our lips together. The base of my spine vibrated, telling me that Noah’s tongue was brushing over mine. But the images of what I’d seen were hindering me, useless, unable to respond. 

“What’s wrong?” 

His voice was laced with exhaustion and there was guilt eating away at me for waking him up. 

“I’m fine,” I dragged through my hair, trying to ease the pounding of my heart. 

Noah sat up in bed, his own sleep tousled hair a mess, but he still looked gorgeous. 

“It doesn’t seem like you’re fine. You’re acting like you had a nightmare?” 

I thought about for a moment of lying, keeping up the ruse that I was fine, but deep down I knew I wouldn’t be. 

“I don’t dream, so whatever this was,” I let out a shaky breath, trying to compose myself. “It felt too real. The flames when I tried to reach for you.” 

Noah stiffened. “Flames?” 

I turned towards him, pulling my knees to my chest and rested my chin on them. “I wasn’t in my own dream. I was in his.” 

When Noah gave me a look of confusion, I bit my lip and said his name with fear. 

“Lucifer.” 

A bunch of different emotions passed through his face and I wasn’t sure how he was going to react. 

“You saw me in the flames?” He asked. 

I then reiterated the whole scene for him from beginning to end, not leaving any details out. Quickly, Noah left the bed to begin pacing his room and the red LED lights casted him in the same glow I’d seen Lucifer. I shuddered with that same fear, slowly sinking farther away from Noah. 

“It sounds like an omen, Lethia. Lucifer shows up in your dream, tells you my soul is his. Am I going to die?” He stopped pacing to run a hand over his face. 

Your lips parted to speak but hesitated for a moment to which Noah took the opportunity to speak again. 

“Is that why you fell? You were sent here to tell me I’m going to die?” 

“That’s not-,” I shook my head, still in my crouched position on his bed. 

Noah chuckled dryly. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you tell me in the beginning? Why waste my fucking time with everything?” 

My eyes narrowed. “I can assure you that I wasn’t wasting your time, Noah. It’s just that I'm still learning things. Figuring out why I fell into this time and not where Lucifer fell.” 

Noah halted his pacing, dark eyes pinning me. “Is he going to stop looking for you?” 

“I don’t know,” I sighed while resting my head against the wall next to Noah’s bed. 

Silence fell between us for a long moment and Noah remained unmoving, eyes staring straight at me. 

“What’s the point of this, Lethia?” He asked. 

My eyes snapped away from the sharpness of my nails and sliced them into him. “Excuse me?” 

“Lucifer won’t stop looking for you. He wants you back and it’s probably better that you’re with him instead of me,” Noah said with his hands on his hips. 

I couldn’t figure out where the shift in attitude came from and it had me rising from the bed so I could stand toe to toe with him. 

“This is pointless,” he continued. “You can’t feel my touch. You can’t feel anything about me. How would a relationship between us work?” 

My face turned to stone, crimson eyes deepening with his words.

“That’s not fair, Noah. That’s not anything I can control,” I reminded him. 

“Is that why you just magically dropped here?” He scoffed. “If I was going to fucking die you should have told me from day one.”

“I didn’t know. I swear,” I almost begged for him to believe me. 

He didn’t say a thing, simply shrugged before crossing his arms over his chest. The silence between us was deafening and when I felt the tears burning in the corners of my eyes, I stood up straighter. I refused to cry for this mortal, no matter how I felt about him. 

“Fuck this,” I grumbled while ripping my jacket from one of the hooks in his room and throwing it on me. 

When I brushed past him, slamming my shoulder into his, Noah stumbled back but I gave no indication the push impacted me. But when the lone tear slipped down my cheek, I could hear his soft intake of breath. 

“Lethia, I’m-.” 

“Save it! I’m going to get some air,” I spat while slamming his bedroom door shut behind me. 

By now, his roommates were awake and lingering throughout the house downstairs. As I reached the front door, Michael’s voice called out after me. 

“Lethia, are you alright?” 

But I didn’t bother saying anything. It wasn’t worth it. None of these mortals mattered anymore. My life wasn’t something that concerned them anymore and in the haste of my fight with Noah, I had one goal in mind. 

Find Uriel. 

However, my thunderous footsteps stopped when four figures stepped out of the dark street and boxed me in. My head snapped in all different directions and when the one familiar face stepped even closer, a low scowl pulled on my face. 

“Ceecee,” I snarled. 

The man adjusted the black bandana around his forehead before winking. “Nice to see you as well, Lethia. Although I must say, you’ve changed since we've seen you last.” 

I rolled my eyes. “Tell me something I don’t already know.” 

The man with spiked up black hair spoke next. “Do you know how long we’d been looking for you?” 

“For all eternity, Jake?” I joked with not an ounce of humor in my voice. 

“I never remembered you being such a jokester,” said Jinx, one of the other men.

I turned towards him with an unamused shrug. “But I do remember Lucifer always sending his little bitches to do his dirty work.” 

The last man, taller than the others, wore a sour smile. 

“Always the conversationalist, Lonny,” I faux sighed. “Nothing to say this time?” 

His dark eyes never left my face. “I said everything I needed to say before.” 

“Oh, that’s right,” I snapped. “You accused me of keeping Lucifer from his true potential. I was a snake in the grass.”

“Was I wrong?” Lonny extended his hands wide. “We all fell for your transgression.” 

My upper lip recoiled. “Lucifer led me astray. It’s because of his betrayal to the King we all fell.”

Ceecee made a show of groaning while tying away the long strands of hair from his face. “You can come with us the easy way or the hard way.” 

“NO! Please, not the hard way,” I overplayed my helpless voice before a dark chuckle fell from my lips. “We know all of you together are no match for me. I was higher ranked than you four up in the Kingdom.”

“Things are different now,” Jake said, his leather jacket slick from the earlier rain. 

“You know, I’m surprised Maraxa isn’t here,” I clicked my tongue. 

Lonny chuckled low behind me. “Lucifer was upset with her failed attempts so she’s chained in hell.” 

I cocked a brow while glancing over my shoulder at him. “I take it as Lucifer is there, watching her beg for his forgiveness?” 

“No, he’s actually been up here in the mortal realm for quite some time. Closer than you think,” Jinxed explained. 

My arms were extended wide with a playful smirk on my lips. “I’m right here. Tell him to come and get me.” 

“I already have.” 

A voice inside my mind spoke and my wings exploded from my back as I turned towards that voice only to be met with darkness as it overtook all of my senses. 

NOAH

I sat in my computer chair, knee bouncing so fast I was sure the guys could hear the floor shaking downstairs. I couldn’t stop biting the skin on the pad of my thumb as the worry began eating away at me. Lethia had been gone for almost an hour and with no way to reach her, I was at a loss of what to do. 

I never meant the things I said. Us being together, whatever this relationship was, wasn’t pointless. I knew it was wrong of me to use the fact she couldn't feel my touch against her but when Lethia told me that Lucifer was not only after her soul but mine as well, I got scared. If you would have told me last month that I’d find myself falling for a fallen angel and had to worry about Lucifer coming after her, I would have laughed in your face. 

My life had been soley Bad Omens until Lethia arrived. Now things changed and Lethia slowly became top on my priority list. For example, finding where she went. 

Just as I sat up from my chair, ready to head downstairs and ask the guys for help, Jesse appeared at the open doorway of my bedroom. 

“Hey,” he said. “Everything alright?” 

No. Far from it. My girlfriend's, who's not my girlfriend, her ex-boyfriend is after her soul and mine. 

I shifted on my feet while stuffing my hands in my pockets. “I don’t think so. Lethia and I had a fight. She stormed out of here almost an hour ago and I thought she’d be back by now but I’m worried something is wrong.” 

Jesse nodded and held out his keys. “We can take my car.” 

Quickly slipping on a sweater, I followed him down the stairs and filled in the rest of the guys in on our plan. To which Jolly and Orie said they’d go out looking as well and Michael would stay in case she came back. 

Two hours later after scouring almost all of downtown L.A and our neighborhood twice, there was no sign of Lethia. But it wasn’t until we were walking back up the steps to the house that my eyes caught sight of the large black feather there. 

How had I missed that before? 

I gently covered it with my shoe as Orie, Jolly, and Jesse walked up. 

“Have you tried calling her?” Orie wondered. 

“Voicemail,” I lied, knowing she didn’t have a phone. 

It was now mid afternoon and I knew the guys had plans to work on the studio for a bit so after thanking them for their help, I told them I was going to hang outside for the time being. 

Once alone, I hastily picked up the feather beneath my shoe and felt that all too familiar feeling of my soul being dragged through the dark subconscious of Lethia’s mind. 

I landed five houses down from my own to see a group of four men standing over the crumbled body of Lethia, who was protecting herself with her large wings. 

“Hm, it’s a shame what she became. Are we sure he’ll even want her back,” a man wearing a bandana asked. 

The tallest of the group and dark curly hair snorted. “If he doesn’t, I’m sure we could find use for her down there. We’re always in need of slaves.” 

One of the men with spiky hair lifted Lethia’s body with ease and it was then I got a good look at her face. No marks indicating she was hurt but my heart stopped in my chest when I noticed how white and vacant her eyes were. 

“Is Lucifer in the same place we left him?” 

The man with the bandana nodded. “As soon as he found out where Lethia was staying, he refused to leave. He wanted to remain close.” 

“Remember what he said Jake, not a hair on her head is to be misplaced. He wants her in all her glory.” 

Jake rolled his eyes while adjusting his grip on Lethia. “How do you think he’ll react when he smells that mortal on her?”

“It will be a death that I cannot wait to experience,” The taller man smirked before all four of them extended their wings, all differentiating in size and color. 

My eyes blinked a few times as I felt the earth tilt back on its axis, everything coming back to me with a force that had my breath shaking. Four angels took Lethia and they had plans to bring her back to Lucifer. I didn’t know where but what I did know was that they were close. And that once he found out Lethia and I had been together, it would only mean one thing for her. 

Death.

“Fuck,” I raked a shaking hand through my hair. “Fuck!” 

The sounds of fluttering wings echoed behind me and I swiftly turned on my feet, expecting to see Lethia but instead saw the crow. It was perched on a branch up in the large willow tree in our yard and its wings were extended wide, showcasing the white stripe between its feathers. 

“Where is she?” I asked the bird. 

Its response was a simple caw. 

“You’re her familiar. You know where she is,” my voice raised. 

Now the crow didn’t make a noise. Its dark eyes watched me intently as I did the same to it. I could feel the anger beginning to boil over that stemmed from my fight with Lethia and an afternoon spent trying to look for her, only to be met with this fucking bird that wouldn’t stop staring at me. 

“If you’re not going to be any fucking help, then leave me alone!” I yelled while throwing a rock at the bird, hitting its left wing. 

It cried out in pain before fluttering out of the tree and off into a direction I didn’t bother to follow. There was only one way I could possibly talk with Lethia and figure out where she was. 

I needed to go to sleep.

LETHIA

My eyes slowly opened, a feeling behind them causing a slight groan to fall from my lips. This was a new feeling; pain. I hadn't felt something like this since I fell to earth all those months ago. 

So why could I feel my insides burning? 

Groggily looking to my left, I took in the chains around my wrist with a curious pull of my brows. There were markings all along the cuffs and my eyes doubled when I recognized those markings. 

Ancient markings. Ones that hadn't been seen in eons. 

Ancient markings that were created for one thing and one thing only. I knew because it was me who created them. 

Power binding markings. To help keep an angel trapped in imprisonment. 

"No, no," I whispered, trying with all my strength to fight against my bindings. 

It was futile. There was no way out. 

When I looked to my right and saw the same bindings, I did my best to remain calm. There had to be a way out of this. I was the one who created these sigils, surely I could find a way out. 

I thought back to what happened moments before my capture. The fight, the accusations, and the hurt look in his eyes. 

"Noah," I breathed while closing my eyes, trying to dream walk into his mind. 

Blocked. 

Cursing under my breath, I knew the reason why I was blocked had to be because he wasn't asleep. 

A sudden movement from my left made my head snap up and the rage festered low in my gut when those four familiar men stepped into view. 

"You were always the ones sent to do his dirty work," I chuckled while rising to my knees. 

Ceecee smiled wickedly. "He was tired of waiting. Maraxa clearly wasn't the right one for the job." 

I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "Right, you said she’s chained in hell. Was that before or after trying to get into bed with him?" 

"No, malach. That place belongs to you." 

I froze at hearing that name; it had been so fucking long since it was uttered in my presence. 

Angel in Hebrew.

There was only one being that ever called me that.

No. No. No. It can't be. 

The dark voice loomed in the shadows and I whirled my head to the right in time to see his face emerge from the darkness; those piercing blue eyes locking into my soul. 

"Lucifer," I shuddered while pulling on the bindings, to no avail.

He cocked his head to the side, those eyes drinking in the sight of me before he bent low to his knees. Our faces were mere inches from each other and with one gaze down to those lips, memories of us lying together up in the Kingdom replayed in my mind on a loop. 

I couldn’t figure out why he looked different from the images I had been seeing around town lately. 

“I played with your mind, creating a different version of me. It was easy to control you, Lethia. Your mind has become weak since the fall,” Jinx said. 

I snarled while rising to my feet, ready to attack, but was pulled back by my bindings. 

“I should have known you were inside my mind, Jinx. This entire time, I thought it was Maraxa.” 

He chuckled darkly while crossing his arms over his chest. “Please, she was weak before the fall. She couldn’t hold a candle to the things I’ve done.” 

Lucifer held up a hand when I was about to have a witty remark. 

“Enough!” His voice boomed throughout the small room I was held in. 

The four men behind him slinked farther back into the darkness, like puppies who were just scolded for chewing something they shouldn’t have. 

“Lucifer’s bitches,” I repeated my words from earlier with a smirk.

His hand gently cupped my cheek, forcing me to look at him in those blue depths. 

"I haven't been called Lucifer in quite some time, not since the fall. Humans aren't too keen on it when you tell them your name is literally the devil. You can call me my mortal name." 

I swallowed thickly. "Which is?" 

The grin that spread to his face was a wicked one and made my heart drop with fear.

“You can call me Andy.”

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

When did you start the original owl vid blog and what was it like? Was it more focused on reviewing owl videos? I’m just curious as to how you ended up involved in a bunch of discourse* about not-owls.

*lets just call it that for simplicity’s sake ahah

I made the original in either January or February 2020 after being frustrated to a breaking point seeing another video of an owl in an obviously bad situation being shared uncritically because the OP had mislead their followers about what was going on. “Oh this owl LOVES his kitten and duck friends!” “Oh look at this owl having SO much fun in the bubble bath!” It was endless. At the time there was genuinely no one questioning anything going on in any of them. My only outlet was to vent it to some of my friends in group chats and such. We would pass around different videos that ended up on our dashes and discuss the issues amongst ourselves just to be in a space where people actually said something because outside of those chats we were going mad seeing it time and time again.

I made the blog while scrolling tumblr aimlessly during a particularly long winded seminar I was sitting in on, I had reblogged a photo of a wild owl and tumblr began recommending various owl abuse videos mislabeled as cute. I had enough. I made a blog name and used large bold letters and emphasizing colors so my posts would be seen by people scrolling the reblogs. I scoured the entire owl tag and rated every single video I came across, typing paragraph upon paragraph detailing everything wrong with those photos and videos and it didn’t take more than a day or two before I had amassed a few thousand followers, people were interested. People were listening, there were a few “okay Karen” types here and there, but the large majority were willing to listen in a way I had never seen before. I had made posts like this on Facebook (not under an alias) and my posts were always immediately met with “who cares if the owl dies it’s just a fun video it’s not that deep let people enjoy things” and threats of lawsuits for “defamation” from the online personalities and “sanctuaries” i critiqued. To say tumblr was a breath of fresh air was an understatement, I have been on this website since ~2013-2015 (not on a themed blog, just various personal blogs I deleted and remade a few times, and a discourse blog or two mixed alongside a few admin slots making pride icons with cartoon characters for people), and I can honestly say this initial experience was the last thing I expected from this hellsite.

For the first few months, I wanted to hang onto that. I didn’t want to bring politics into it, this was just about owls and wildlife, I didn’t want to detract from the goal of educating people on how to spot animal abuse. And for a time that worked well. I was happy. The followers were happy. Until I started paying attention to the people following me and interacting with my posts. Usernames like “radical-clit” or “jake1488” would start to pop up more often. More icons would have kekistan pride flags, or just iron crosses outright. Some icons proudly just said “TERF is a slur” while others were naked white women in wheat fields. I had what I asked for, a truly “apolitical” space where everyone, even Nazis and TERFs felt very welcome.

And I took exception to that.

I made the first real post using my voice and my stances. I said trans women are women. I said Black Lives Matter. I said ACAB and I said wear a mask when COVID started to hit. I started blocking the ones that didn’t scatter from my blog like roaches, I went through my follower list manually and blocked every TERF, Nazi, and any other type of sleazeball I could find. I manually vetted a few thousand people.

This resonated with people. I expected backlash, and there was a fair shake of it, but I received more asks than I had before. Hundreds of strangers thanking me for making my stance clear and letting them know they were welcome. And that stuck with me.

I had made this blog to educate, and that is what I was going to do. So when I started getting asks from those opposed to my open sharing of political subjects, I responded to their hate mail as though it was a debate. I wasn’t trying to change their minds, I’m not that naive, it was to further educate anyone else reading about it, to tell the full story and to arm them with tools to fight back against bad faith talking points the right weaponizes. From that point on, I would get off topic asks questioning my political stances, and I continued to answer them. I wanted it to be clear where I stood because I did not want marginalized people to ever question if I was secretly a bigot.

I never stopped actually reviewing owl videos, however I did stop using the flashy long format responses to avoid annoying people. I had a following by then, I didn’t need to shout to be heard over scores of people fawning over animal abuse. I still rate videos today, but if it’s one that I’ve rated at all within the past year or especially one I’ve rated multiple times, I tend to ignore the message. I don’t go looking for them anymore for the same reason I’d imagine you probably don’t go out of your way to find videos of dogs and cats being abused. It’s upsetting, it’s emotionally tolling. There’s also only so many ways I can say “owls cannot safely cohabit with other species or more than one other owl”, “owls cannot swim well and don’t like being fully submerged in water for a viral tiktok”, or “owl cafes and pet keeping of owls are inherently abusive”.

If I’ve already rated three videos of people letting their toddlers or other pets manhandle large owls, do I really need to be sent six more? My point is Education, not sending as many upsetting videos of animal abuse as I can find to place on your dash and say things you already know if you’ve seen my other posts.

Anyway, for a shorter answer to your question: I get non-owl discourse consistently because I don’t shy away from addressing it. I don’t want my stances to be vague, I don’t want good people wondering if I support trump or genocide. I am a firm believer that silence is violence. I’m not going to do what white culture favors and simply look away and avoid the topic of injustices simply to make white users more comfortable.

This blog was never meant to be comfortable.

This is the “animal abuse is bad stop that” blog.

It would be weird of me to oppose animal abuse and them remain silent on abuses and injustices faced by human beings.

I don’t wake up in the morning saying “okay today will be 80% international politics, 12% discourse about the causes and ethics of pedophilia as a mental disorder, and 8% birds with 1% of that being owls. If someone asks me if I support trans rights I will answer them. If someone attacks me for that then I will respond to their attack.

If some days I don’t feel like looking for upsetting animal abuse and formulating an entire essay on why abusing said animal for entertainment is wrong, I do something else.

[kkolg]

Info dump for The new dawn au?

oh boy I might ramble

getting this out of the way it definitely takes a lot of inspiration form a ton of other things like my other stories/au’s and WARRIOR CATS OF ALL THINGS, it’s always there🧎‍♀️uhm I’m pretty sure I’ll add little hints here and there for different story elements, I really like hiding secret things in my art including secret messages hidden in the dark where you need to brighten the image and such- I’ll probably say something in the tags to let people know :)

erm erm uhhh story stuff I guess, I actually have a little nod to myself in the au with an alternate version of my sona s.d. K which I need to actually draw- she’s not really me in the au more of her own character cause she’s pretty important but I just thought I’d point that out :D

there are a lot of monsters in the rogue group of dd’s that I plan to draw, with one you might have seen already >:]

gonna say again that parallels in this au are very important, if you’re able to figure out who is sorta supposed to represent who then you might be able to figure out a good chunk of the story, I love theories btw and I’d love to hear them if anyone may have some‼️

Kim’s corruption isn’t what you may think it is, it’s not a virus, it’s not the solver

I’ve given a lot of hints about it actually, so take with that what you will

EDIT: ALSO FUN FACT KIM IS TAKES INSPO FROM MORDECAI LACKADAISY AND C-1 TAKES INSPO FROM JAYFEATHER AND YK FNAF STUFF THANK YOU BYEEEEEE