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teamatsumu · 3 months

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purple and pink. (rafayel x reader)

summary: you and rafayel cover yourselves in paint and (redacted).

word count: 3450

warnings: porn without plot, smut, swearing, nsfw, mdni, fem!reader

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

a/n: my brain is rotting for this man so this is just self indulgent crap atp

You weren’t exactly an artistic person.

You just never indulged in art before. Of course, you admired the craft and thought it was extremely difficult to actually create meaningful art. But you didn’t think you were a particularly creative person, nor did you think you had an eye for such stuff.

Ever since you began dating Rafayel, you would say your appreciation for art had definitely improved. How could it not, considering he spent all day creating it, and in the time he wasn’t, his world was still colored by the lens of it. Rafayel saw art everywhere he went, in the gentle roll of the water where it rippled in fountains, or the timid but pinpoint light of a lone star in a dark sky. He loved describing it to you, and the way he put it would make you look around twice. He had really changed the way you viewed the world.

What you were about to do now wasn’t exactly the kind of art that made you think deeply of the universe, but hey, not all art can make you question your existence. Sometimes you need to create….. lighter pieces.

Stepping back, you stared down at the bed sheet sized canvas you had stuck to the floor, sure that you had used enough adhesive to keep it temporarily in place. The clock on the far wall of the studio told you that Rafayel would be home in a little while, which meant you needed to start the next phase of your plan shortly. But first things first, you needed lighter clothes.

After you had switched your jeans and button down shirt for a thin, short robe, you began pulling down buckets of paint from the storage closet connecting to the main studio. You chose only two, a light purple and a light pink. Both colors you knew Rafayel liked using in his pieces. You might not know a whole lot about art, but you knew him inside out. And you also knew he would love this idea.

You spent the next few minutes going over the canvas with the two buckets, pouring a few globs of paint over it. Small, but dense, with lots of blank canvas around them so they could be spread. You decided to only do two or three globs of each color. After all, wasn’t the art in how the colors would move and slide on the canvas? This should be enough paint for that purpose.

Your face was heating up at the thought of what was about to happen, and you felt almost giddy. When was he going to be home? You couldn’t wait to get started.

As if on cue, the door of the studio clicked open, not making a single sound as your boyfriend lumbered in, closing the door behind him. His white shirt was loose, black pants tight, and you couldn’t help but admire his ass when he turned around to shut the door with a light snap.

“Hey-” He stopped almost immediately upon seeing you, eyeing the half empty paint can you were setting down and the flimsy robe covering your body. A body that was definitely naked under it.

“What are you doing?” You saw his eyes flick over you and then behind to eye the massive canvas you had laid out, along with the little circles of paint looking fresh and shiny on it. You gave him a grin.

“I was hoping we could collaborate for your next piece.” You tugged at his shirt until you both stood closer to the canvas, taking special joy in how confused he looked. His eyes kept darting all over the place to try and make sense of what was going on, and you had to stifle a giggle.

You thought to elaborate on your suggestion by slowly unbuttoning his crisp white shirt. Rafayel raised his eyebrows but didn’t stop you, probably curious to see what you were cooking. You tugged his shirt off his toned shoulders, before going to work on his pants. His hand finally seized yours, tilting his head so your eyes would meet his.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on?” His tone was amused. You hummed almost in thought, pulling your hand away. You tugged on the belt of your robe until it slipped free, and the front fell open. You saw the tips of Rafayel’s ears turn red, and his expression blanked a bit.

“You have paint. You have a canvas. And you have me.” Your voice was a low whisper. You reached into the bucket next to you, palms stretched, until they were both covered in paint. Then you reached one hand up and dragged your fingertips over his bare abs.

The cool paint made them contract a bit, and you heard the way his breath hitched under the touch. Four long streaks of pink now stood out against his pale skin. Finally, you looked back up to meet his gaze, his face inches from yours.

Rafayel’s blush had extended from his ears down to his neck, but the corner of his lip twitched up into a slow grin. His hands were eager as he undid the button of his pants, and you felt a thrill run up your spine. You watched him undress quickly. He was slow, smooth, as he lifted one precise hand to tug on the shoulder of your loose robe until it was falling off your shoulders and pooling at your feet.

He looked around and his eyes caught the second can of paint. Purple. He dipped his hands into it, and you watched him walk back over to you.

“Where did you get this idea, baby?” His voice had lost its confusion, coated in honey now, sultry and low, nearly a whisper, and you shivered when his breath hit your bare neck. He took advantage of the fact that your hair was pulled up and away from your shoulders, tracing gentle lips over the slope of your shoulder. Instinctively, your hands smoothed over his torso, and you were reminded of the paint on them, still wet, now swiped onto the man before you.

Rafayel hummed at the feeling and proceeded to return the favor, his hands set on your hips. The paint was cool on your skin, and you almost jumped at the temperature if it weren’t for his warm hands taking the feeling away in the next second. Your boyfriend gave your naked bodies a gentle tug backwards until you were stepping on paper, slight crinkling noises hitting your ears.

Gentle lips now made contact with yours, and you sighed in relief. You had missed this, just the feeling of him kissing you. You had been thinking about it- and other things- all day, and you were so excited to start. Hands caressed over each other slowly but eagerly, and you couldn’t even begin to imagine how much paint you had managed to get on each other.

Your kisses became more hurried, more firm, and you could feel Rafayel’s body temperature rise a bit. His breath stuttered when you moaned into his mouth, tongues dancing together in a synchronized battle. He nibbled at your bottom lip and you arched deeply into him, nails digging into his biceps.

“Fuck, the paint is drying.” You managed to gasp out when your lips separated, his mouth finding the skin behind your ear immediately. He sucked hard on it, until you shivered and let out a long, shaky breath. Your knees were so weak, and you were glad for his strong arms wrapped around your waist, since it was the only thing currently holding you up.

He hummed against your skin, not letting up on the marks he was marring it with. You had discovered pretty early on that Rafayel was a biter, and marks on your skin was another way he created art. It just so happened that you enjoyed the feeling more than you could ever think to describe.

“Good thing you laid more out for us then.” He responded, referring to the globs just below your feet, before tugging you down until you were sprawled on the canvas below you. It was cool under your skin, and you felt something wet just under your shoulder. Oh. Your eyes met Rafayel’s before they finally traveled down his body for the first time since you two had started. You gulped in a deep breath.

His pale skin was covered in purple and pink streaks, like smooth color streaked over brilliant porcelain. The ridges and bumps of his muscles stood out even more under the paint, and you could tell in a few places the exact route your hands had taken, pink running over his waist and down his V-line. The remnants of the journey your fingers took stood before you, proud on his skin. You felt a thrill run through you at the sight, something stirred in your core.

“This is turning you on.” Rafayel observed, a light smirk resting on his face. You felt your body burn at the teasing lilt of his voice.

“As if this isn’t something you’ve dreamed of doing.” You retaliated, opening your legs so he could fit himself between them, resting his elbows on either side of you so your faces were a hairbreadth away. He hummed and sighed, lowering his body until his erection grazed right over your center, making you gasp.

“Believe me, I’ve dreamed of this.” He sighed, reached for the paint to the left and just above your head. You watched him cover his palm with it before he reached down, hooking a hand under your knee and pulling it up until it folded against your torso. The paint was wet on your skin, and you were learning to love the feeling more and more. His cock prodded your entrance, now on full display for him. He gave you another mischievous smirk.

“Baby I’m about to ruin you so bad.”

The first slide of him inside you had you crying out and arching into him, his cock carving its way through your unprepped hole and bringing with it a burn so delicious it made your head spin. When he bottomed out, he moaned unabashedly into your ear, hot breath hitting the shell of it and sending shivers through your spine. Your core clenched and unclenched rapidly, trying to adjust to the glorious intrusion. Your brain screamed at him to move, to slide in and out, do anything at all. You needed to feel him rock into you. Your hips twitched and jerked, making your boyfriend moan before he finally started moving.

His thrusts started out languid, smooth, gliding in and out of you at a reasonable pace. You sighed, head leaned back and reveling in the feeling it brought, leg tensing under his grip. Little tendrils of pleasure zipped up from where you were connected, heavy cock stretching you open until your pussy was adequately wet, ready to take the pounding you knew was inevitably coming your way.

And oh, did you receive it.

Slowly, steadily, Rafayel picked up the pace until his hips were smacking hard into your pelvis, knocking every breath from your lungs. You cried out, one arm thrown over his shoulder while the other seeked desperate purchase under you, used to the feeling of silk sheets but now met with nothing but smooth, stretched out canvas and the wet sensation of sticky color. Rafayel used the grip he had on your knee to twist your leg out further, inviting him to hit that one spot that made you see stars. A broken wail left your mouth and your back arched impossibly high, hearing a low moan hit your ear when you clenched tight around the cock pounding into you.

“F-fuck, Rafi-” His head lifted, just enough to connect your lips in a desperate slurry of rushed kisses, sucking and biting on your lips as his pace didn’t so much as stutter. Your moans dissolved straight into his mouth, little pornographic ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’s slipping out with every thrust. You didn’t bother muffling them, knowing exactly what the noises did for Rafayel’s ego, and with how he was ravishing you currently, you were okay with giving him a little ego boost.

(You would deal with the consequences of that later.)

“Gonna cum-” You managed to choke out just as your orgasm rammed into you with no warning, effectively silencing any other words as you cried and shook through it, muscles seized tight and legs kicking in the air.

“God- fuck,” Rafayel’s first words. “There you go. Fuck, that’s it.”

He fucked you through the last vestiges of your high before his arms slipped under your arched waist and lifted you up, rolling over until you were perched on his hips, throbbing cock still nestled inside you. The change in position made him slide in deeper, and you let out a broken moan. Your orgasm was still lingering around the edges, encouraging you to prolong the feeling, to chase after it again. And so you did. You rolled your hips, placing your hands on Rafayel’s abs as leverage to push your body up and down. You finally took a good look at your boyfriend.

His chest was heaving with exertion, shining under the glow of the lights above you, catching on the swirling mixes of purple and pink. Under the paint, his skin glistened with sweat, tensing and straining under his movements. The paint had reached all the way up the side of his neck, and even into his hair, blending with the purple tresses. The purple complimented his eyes, half lidded and heavy with lust, his lip was tucked under his teeth.

He was a vision.

“Baby, you’re so fucking beautiful.” His voice was fractured and strained, and in your staring you had forgotten that you were also the object of his gaze. You couldn’t imagine how you looked right now, slathered with paint and hot under the stimulation you were receiving, strands of hair leaving your bun and trailing down over your face and neck. You rolled your hips and tightened hard around his cock, watching the way his jaw slackened and eyes rolled shut. Another zip of pleasure ran through you, and you couldn’t help but keen, pushing yourself to go faster, to make him feel even better.

“I’m- I’m so close.” You could feel your vision swim, tears gathering in your lash line as his cock dug deep into your core, prodding into your spongy walls in all the right ways. Rafayel grabbed both your wrists off his chest, pulling them behind your back and then tugging you down until your body was pinned tight against his. You let him do as he pleased, planting his feet on the canvas before he started thrusting hard and fast up into your sopping cunt.

You screamed and arched, body tensing at the pace he set, chin resting on his shoulder and head thrown back as you let him carry you face first into another orgasm, gushing around him until the sounds of his thrusts grew impossibly wetter, sloppier than the paint around you and covering you, blabbering incoherent phrases and curses as tears poured from your eyes. With every thrust, the ecstasy prolonged itself, like an endless high that came with intense drugs, except all you needed was him, and he would get you there if it was the last thing he did.

Your perspective was shifting, Rafayel’s cock leaving you until you felt cold and empty. He maneuvered you onto your hands and knees, or rather, arms and knees since you felt that you couldn’t even hold yourself up at this point. A firm hand pushed on your back until it arched to his liking, spreading you until he could slide his massive length back into you with little to no resistance. You whimpered pathetically, eyes rolling unhindered in your head, cheek smushed into the paper beneath you. Briefly, you felt like you could almost taste the paint, but the thought left your brain faster than cigarette smoke dissipating on a windy day when Rafayel started moving again.

“Stop me if you can’t take it.”

You could never, would never stop him, not when your pussy keened at the feeling of his cock filling you up to fulfillment once more. Especially not when he planted a foot on your side that gave him leverage to thrust harder and stronger into you. Your body buzzed and reveled under the feeling of being used like this, basking in the sounds coming from Rafayel getting heavier and choppier as he finally chased his own orgasm instead of yours. You wanted nothing more than for him to warm you up, fill you with his seed until you couldn’t take any more of it. Your depraved mind was wiped blank of everything else except that crushing need.

“Cum in me.” You managed to whine, clenching hard around him. Rafayel moaned and his hips stuttered.

“Fuck. I’m gonna- I’m cumming baby, take it, take it, take it, take it-” Your body jostled at the strength of his thrusts, once, twice, and then he was slamming his cock deep into you and holding it there, hot spurts of cum hitting your walls. Painting your insides white like your bodies had painted your outsides purple and pink.

Your entire body collapsed on itself when Rafayel pulled out, dropping onto the paper heavily as you tried to catch your breath. Your vision was swimming and so was your head, unable to do anything but focus on the faint buzz in your muscles. You could hear shuffling somewhere behind you before you were being lifted into strong arms. You sighed and curled into them, seeking the warmth of your boyfriend after the beating your body just took. And he was happy to provide it- in the tub he ran for you while both of you settled into warm water.

You dozed in and out of sleep as Rafayel cleaned you up, giggling and humming along with whatever little anecdotes he was telling you. He knew you would barely remember most of it later, considering how dopey and spacey you got after sex. You pouted and leaned up to him every few minutes, stealing tiny kisses from his lips. And afterwards, you let him pat you dry and put you to bed in the usual “princess treatment” he gave you after one of your sessions. The only time he backed off from teasing you relentlessly and instead doted on you properly.

You couldn’t tell how long you slept, but you woke up feeling well rested. The bed next to you was empty but still slightly warm, and you could hear quiet shuffling outside in the studio.

Your muscles screamed when you forced them to move, your hips and thighs feeling like particular sore spots. You ignored the feeling in favor of pulling a shirt off the floor to throw over your body, realizing it was your boyfriend’s when it fell all the way to your thighs. You trudged out of the room while rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You saw him standing with his back to you, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The muscles of his bare back shifted as he moved, now clear of all the paint you two had slathered on it. Oh right, the paint.

Your eyes shifted behind him to the canvas, which Rafayel had propped up against the wall now, and was observing silently. You walked closer to admire the streaks of pink and purple on it, watching it carefully. Somehow, the choppy strokes showed your desperation, your passion, and you felt your face heat up at the thought.

“Looks pretty.” Your voice was slightly rough. Rafayel turned around at the sound and gave you a soft smile, pulling you closer and wrapping his arms around you from behind as you both stared. You settled into his warmth as you swayed gently back and forth.

“Why’re you thinking so hard about it?” You asked.

You turned your head to watch as he huffed and pouted a bit. He looked so cute, you bit back the urge to squish his cheeks.

“Pretty sure there’s some cum in there somewhere.”

Aaaaaand the urge was gone.

You smacked his chest hard, making him jerk back and laugh, but not releasing his hold on you.

“You’re disgusting.”

“Not more than you.”

He kissed you before you could land another smack, hand cupping your jaw to tilt your head back. You fought to keep a grin down, but failed when you felt his lips stretch with a smile of his own, erupting into giggles.

#rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lnd #rafayel #love and deepspace x reader #rafayel smut #love and deepspace smut #rafayel x y/n

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foldingfittedsheets · 3 months

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I worked retail for a long time and people really do treat you like shit sometimes. But between selling sex toys, mattresses, and jewelry I can say definitively I got treated worst selling mattresses.

All three of my jobs were in sales but selling sex toys we were allowed to put people in their place, and in jewelry people didn’t want to misbehave in a fancy setting. But people at the mattress store had no problem yelling at me, hitting on me, or insulting me to my face.

For a while I was managing my own store for the company. I ran a small location and had struggling employees placed with me for rehabilitation. If their numbers improved they could go back to bigger stores. If not, they got fired.

So this meant I was the manager of problem employees. At one point both of my people had a foot out the door. The company was going downhill and changed computer systems and they were fed up. Consequently, they made a ton of mistakes, because they just didn’t care about the job or learning the new systems.

I strolled into work on what was essentially my Monday to a shit show. Deliveries scheduled without product, wrong things on orders, poor expectations of the process, you name it. I spent the entire morning getting yelled at for mistakes that weren’t mine.

The final straw came when a man called furious that his moms bed for her nursing home had a delivery window he couldn’t accommodate. This wasn’t a huge disaster since we still had time to deliver it before she moved. I ran him through the options and he just kept screaming at me. Not for a solution but because I was there and he was frustrated.

My heart filled with malice and a cold fury. A calculating part of my brain had a realization in that moment that I could stay a punching bag or I could strike back.

I quavered my voice delicately, taking in a shaky, warbling breath like I was trying not to cry. “Sir,” I quivered through fake tears, “I don’t know what you want from me! I told you what I can do, I didn’t make this mistake I’m just trying to fix it!” My voice broke pitifully on the last syllables, sounding in all ways like a sweet innocent person being yelled at who’s just trying her best, really!

It was like I’d doused him with cold water. My emotional act was the realization that he was screaming at someone who was just doing their damn job, and he was being an asshole. He hastily made an excuse and hung up.

I had a third employee covering with me from another store that day who heard everything. When I hung up, I looked over to see them watching me with an awed expression. “Did… did you just pretend to cry?”

“I absolutely fucking did,” I said with feeling, “and I’d do it a thousand more times. If that’s what it takes for someone to realize they’re behaving like a fucking prick, they deserve it.” The employee looked at me like I was their hero.

The man called back, apologizing profusely, having magically arranged his schedule to accommodate delivery. He came in later that week with an apology Starbucks gift card. I was gracious in my acceptance.

I pulled it a few more times before leaving the company. I felt no shame in the ruse. If someone behaves so poorly that it’s plausible their behavior would drive someone to tears they deserve to feel absolutely wretched about it.

#ramblies #ffs foibles #story #retail #retail hell #I have had people over the years had qualms with the ruse #one person even told me it was so unprofessional #that I’d pretend to be in more distress was not nice of me. but getting yelled at is not nice and I’m in a position where I can’t yell back #and who would they complain to that I cried? would they go to corporate and say how unprofessional the lady cried when I screamed at her!

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rosexxi · 8 months

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Hiii idk if you write for mattheo riddle but I was wondering if you could write a mattheo riddle × hufflepuff!reader one with princess treatment and secret dating? Maybe some angst with fluff at the end? If not no problem thank youuuuuu🦧

My Love 🌸❤️‍🔥

Dating a jealous Mattheo Riddle in secret is never a good idea

a.n // swearing, Mattheo is lowkey mean at one point

fluff/angst // m.r x hufflepuff! reader

Mattheo never was a morning person. Becoming one was one of the "good" habits he had developed since becoming your boyfriend. He was also getting less detentions, owing it to you, and your good influence. He would almost always have his homework completed, his grades were improving as he actually attended his lessons, and he no longer joined in with his childish friends as they practically bullied their classmates. He also had you believe he quit smoking. He didn't and would always discard his cigarette whenever you saw him, but how could he tell you the truth when you looked so proudly at him, as though he had the entire world in his hands.

Almost everyone around him had noticed the small changes in his behaviour, but no one needed to know that he had his own guardian angel in human form that made smiling come a lot easier to him than before.

"You're really special to me, y/n." he had whispered that secret meeting at the Black Lake. It had become a routine for the two of you to meet at the lake and spend time just being two teenagers in love without the burden of family and circumstances. After all, he was the Slytherin prince, son of the dark lord, and you were simply a girl in Hufflepuff. Nothing special, though his words would have you believing otherwise.

You were sitting between his legs as he leaned against a tree, back leaning against his chest as his arms wrapped around your waist.

You smiled at his words, how he was able to be so soft, "You're special to me too Mattheo."

He brought up a soft hand to pull your chin to face him, "I mean it, princess, you've changed my life for the better. You're so pure and kind, dont know what you're doing with me."

You looked up at him with wide eyes as you pressed a kiss in his palm.

"Don't look at me like that angel," he groaned, throwing his head back, "You don't know what you do to me."

You giggled at his exaggerated actions, "You're such a drama queen Mattheo."

"It's just what you do to me."

"Mattheo, I haven't done anything to you. You've always been a kind, caring soul, and now everyone else sees what I see."

"Lucky them." he said sarcastically, "Come on then, princess, I've got practice, and you've got a Hogsmeade date with Lavender, we can't keep her waiting." he tapped your side, and you got up, holding a hand out to pull him up. He smiled down at you when you did, always in love with how much taller he was than you. You pulled him into a hug, and he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"Meet me tonight?" he whispered.

You shook your head into his chest, "I can't, I'm studying in the library with Cho and Lavender."

He rolled his eyes, thankful you couldn't see the look of annoyance on his face. He loved you (though he hadn't yet said), but what he didn't love was the secrecy of your relationship that prevented you from doing normal couple things. To be entirely honest, it was his decision to keep the relationship a secret, but it was all for you. Everyone in Hogwarts loved you. You were popular and incredibly liked because of your friendly, positive spirit. The last thing he needed on his conscious was ruining that for you, making you be seen with him.

He leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek, "I'll see you later then, yeah?"

You smiled sweetly at him and nodded, "Of course, have a good practice."

"but y/n are you ok with this arrangement?" asked Lavender, your best friend, at The Three Broomsticks.

"Arrangement? God Lavender you make it sound like a business deal."

Lavender was the only person who knew about you and Mattheo, as the two of you couldn't help but gossip about everything, including your own lives.

"It sounds that way to me. I mean, he won't even talk to you in public."

"He talks to me." you muttered.

"A subtle nod of encouragement doesn't count."

You rolled your eyes at your best friend, but deep down, you knew she was telling the truth.

At the beginning of the relationship, you didn't mind that he didn't want to tell anyone, but it had been four months, and he was still treating you as this big secret. You were able to deal with it as he was a good boyfriend. You may have been dating in secret, but he always made his presence known and treated you like a princess, even if it was from a distance.

"I don't know anymore Lavender how am I even supposed to bring it up in conversation. Maybe he's ashamed of me or something."

"I really hope he isn't because then I'd have to kill him. Just ask him."

"I can't just ask him."

"Why not, I thought you weren't scared of him."

You sighed out in exasperation, "I'm not. But, I just don't want to ruin things."

Lavender stared empathetically at you, taking your hand into hers, "y/n, he's your boyfriend, acknowledging you in public is the literal bare minimum."

"I know, I'll talk to him."

"Oi big game tomorrow Smith." heckled Malfoy in Potions the next day. You rolled your eyes from beside Zacharias Smith, the chaser for Hufflepuff.

"As far as I can remember, Hufflepuff beat Slytherin last Malfoy." you said to the cocky blonde boy, "let's hope you don't get injured this time." you smiled sweetly at him. Mattheo sniggered from beside Malfoy, earning a nudge from his friend and quidditch teammate.

"What, she's not wrong." he shrugged to a scowling Malfoy, a grin evident on his usual miserable face.

"Shut it, Riddle. And you too l/n, you might want to pay more attention to Snape, last I checked you failed this class."

You rolled your eyes at the petty boy. Of all Mattheo's friends you liked Malfoy the least, he was arrogant and immature. You took your attention off of him and continued with the potion before you.

"You might want to stop paying attention to Snape, Malfoy. You act like his little pet." muttered Zacharias Smith to Malfoy. Tensions always rose near quidditch games, and Smith could have been just as petty as anyone else. His remark made you laugh out loud, especially after seeing the look of annoyance on Malfoys face.

"Is something funny Miss l/n?" Came Snape's monotonous voice.

"No sir."

Snape took one look at you and Smith down his nose and turned back to his lesson, "The two of you can join me for detention tonight and exchange as many jokes as you want then."

You rolled your eyes behind Snape's back, knowing best not to challenge his words.

"Bet you're happy to be in detention with your little girlfriend and Snape." laughed Malfoy.

"Shut it, teachers' pet." argued Smith.

"Leave it Zacharias, there's no point."

"Yeah, listen to your girlfriend Smith."

You shook your head at Malfoy's childish behaviour and raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend who stood beside him. Half expecting Mattheo to say something in your defence, but you knew he wouldn't. He wore a scowl like no other and aggressively worked on his potion, occasionally huffing in anger. Though you had no idea as to what he was angry about, if anything, you should be the angry one as he allowed his best friend to talk down to his girlfriend.

The lesson seemed to draw out, and you were glad you were paired up with Zacharias, whose jokes took your attention off of your sulking boyfriend. From the corner of your eye, you could see Mattheo burning holes into you with his intense gaze. He didn't engage once in Blaise and Draco's conversation. Instead, with his jaw clenched, he sulked over his potion.

"I'm sorry about Snape giving us detention, but I also half expected it the second Malfoy spoke." Smith said in the corridor when the class had finally finished.

"It's fine, I did aswell, we all know Malfoy has Snape in his pocket. Thanks for defending me though."

"Of course, anytime y/n, I just can't stand him, I really hope we win tomorrow, wipe the smile off his face."

"Me too, I will be cheering so much for you guys."

Zacharias smiled at you, "Then I'm sure we'll win. I'll see you at detention. I'm gonna go meet my mates, bye y/n."

"Bye Zacharias," you waved him goodbye and made your way to your dorm room.

Detention with Snape came quick and ended just the same. You and Zacharias met outside his classroom, and Snape simply had you organise some of his ingredients for class the next coming lesson.

"Bye y/n, I've got practice now but I'll see you tomorrow hopefully."

"Bye Zacharias, of course you'll see me," you smiled as you waved him goodbye. You had known Zacharias a long time, practically growing up with each other due to living in the same neighbourhood.

"Enjoy detention, did you?" came a familiar voice in the otherwise empty corridor.

"Don't think anyone enjoys detention, Mattheo." You replied as your boyfriend emerged from a dark corner.

"I waited for you," he began, stopping to inhale from his cigarette, "Seems you had good company though."

You stared at him as he fiddled with his cigarette, "I thought you quit."

"Only do it when I'm stressed." he shrugged. A clear lie. His demeaner entirely different to how he was the other day at the Black Lake.

"What's there to be stressed about? You seemed just fine sulking in potions." You said crossed your arms.

"I weren't fucking sulking, forgive me for not being all chipper when my girlfriends practically throwing herself at my rival." he spat out.

"Throwing herself?! Excuse me, Mattheo, I was simply speaking to my lifelong friend. What, you wanted me to speak to you as you practically let Malfoy be rude to me, your girlfriend might I add." You pointed an accusing finger into his chest.

"That's different, not like I was flirting with someone else in front of you."

"I was not flirting. And don't act all high and mighty when you won't even defend me. You'd rather keep me a secret so you don't have to speak up to your friends."

"I'm not scared to speak up against Malfoy," he sneered as he let out a bitter laugh, "Whatever love, I've got a game to focus on. I can't be doing with your crying because I won't hold your hand in public."

"Mattheo, that's mean." you sighed, voice threatening to break, incredibly taken aback by his harsh tones. All this because you were nice to a boy you had known forever. You should have known. Everything with Mattheo was perfect, almost too perfect it made you forget how mean he could be. He was simply no different to Malfoy, and you stupidly thought he would be.

He merely shrugged at your words and turned on his heels, marching down the corridor down to the dungeons. He left you there with tears threatening to fall.

You woke up the next day in low spirits later than usual. You managed to pull yourself out of bed and make it to breakfast just before it ended. Your eyes were puffy from crying and your face red. You managed to catch a glimpse of Mattheo sitting at the Slytherin table. He didn't look as he usually did before a quidditch match. His eyes were on you instead of on his captain, and a faint air of guilt lingered around him.

"Hey you ok y/n?" asked Cadwallader from across the table. Another one of Hufflepuff's chasers.

"Just tired. Good luck today though, all of you."

"Thanks y/n, I think we've got this win, though." winked Zacharias.

You sat with Lavender in the stands and watched absentmindedly as the two teams came onto the pitch. The Hufflepuff players wore smiles and carried a sense of certainty about them, contrasting to the scowls plastered on the Slytherin players. Draco Malfoy, captain of them all, aggressively shook the hand of the Hufflepuff captain, Cadwallader, and took his place in the sky with his other chasers, Theodore Nott and Mattheo Riddle.

Mattheo stared daggers into the Hufflepuff team, occasionally taking his eyes off of them to look down at you. The game began and seemed to be like any other. Slytherin scored first, followed by Hufflepuff, then Hufflepuff again, and Hufflepuff again. Seeing your house team win put you in higher spirits, and you laughed with your best friend, as you cheered.

You smiled up at the players, even smiling at your boyfriend though quickly regretting so as you were met with a look of anger.

"And it's Zacharias Smith again for Hufflepuff, he's on a roll," yelled Lee Evans who was quick to support anyone who wasnt Slytherin, "And the Hufflepuff seeker has found the golden snitch and Hufflepuff win!! Wait, seems as though Riddle isn't too happy with that one."

The smile on your face was quickly wiped away, as were the feelings of joy to see your house win. You were now staring down at the pitch with wide eyes as Mattheo Riddle was single handedly throwing punches and spitting harsh words at both Smith and Cadwallader. You quickly brought your hands to your mouth, gasping in shock at the actions of your boyfriend. You had seen Mattheo in plenty of fights during your time at Hogwarts, but it was harder to watch now that you were in fact his girlfriend.

"Haha go on Cadwallader, tiny lad but he's finally landed a punch, and Smith lanky git," chuckled Evans as he commented on the spectacle that had everyone's attention, "Riddle is now joined by Malfoy and Nott who are not coming to fight but to pull him away. Awh, shame, I wanted to see a proper fight. Sorry, professor, definitely not supporting aggression in Quidditch. Ooh, Smith and Cadwallader look nasty, but they've finally taken Riddle off. Well, dragged him off. No one likes a sore loser, Mattheo mate."

You wanted to follow Mattheo into the dressing room and ask him a million question, well shout them at him, but you knew he'd only lash out at you. Mattheo had actually never spoken to you in any way other than calmly. Even back to before you had begun dating Mattheo was almost nice to you, but in his current state you knew best than to approach him.

After some time, you hesitated around the locker rooms if you should enter. Even if you had fought yesterday, you were his girlfriend and maybe he needed you. It seemed that the other players had all gone, and only Theodore and Mattheo were left. Just then, Theodore left the changing room.

"Oh hi y/n, you should definitely go see him." he nodded nonchalantly.

"Theodore, you know?" you managed to get out, though incredibly taken aback at his nod of acknowledgement.

"Oh, I always knew. Riddle told me way back when he had used to fancy you," he shrugged, "you should know what he did last night was shitty but he did have a go at everyone if that balances it out."

"He what?"

"Yeah, after he came back from your detention, he had a go at Malfoy. Said if he ever spoke about his girl again, he'd break his face." Theodore laughed, "He really likes you y/n, he's just a bit awkward with his feelings and words, not to mention incredibly insecure. Don't tell him I said that though."

"Thanks Theodore I won't, I'll go talk to him."

You walked into the Slytherin locker room cautiously. It was seemingly empty, but there in the corner was your boyfriend. Mattheo. He was sat shirtless hunched over the bench, his head in his hands. You walked closer to him to see his bare back covered in old bruises and scars. It hurt your heart to be reminded of the painful past he had to endure. Upon hearing your footsteps, he lifted his head, turning to face you.

"Hi." He whispered.

His face was covered in dried blood. His lip was cut, as well as his eyebrow, and you were sure he had had a nose bleed aswell.

"Oh, Mattheo." you whispered upon seeing him, wanting nothing more than to hold him and clean him up, "What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he shrugged, "Are you here to break up with me?"

"Break up with you? Why would I do that?"

"Because look at me," he laughed, "I picked a fight with your friends."

You shook your head and made your way towards him, sitting down between his legs and holding his hands in yours.

"I don't care about them Mattheo I care about you. But I can't do anything about it if you push me away which is what it feels like."

"I know," he nodded, looking anywhere but at you. He seemed frustrated, "It's just stupid, I don't know how to say it."

"Just say words I'll put them together."

"You're too kind, princess," he shook his head, "I just got jealous when I saw you with your Hufflepuff friends. It's stupid. Reminds me of why I wanted to keep you, us a secret in the first place. And then I saw them today, and that tiny arse wanted to ask you out, and we were losing, and I lost it."

You brushed your fingertips over the bruises on his knuckles, again a million questions on your mind. You never knew why Mattheo wanted to keep the two of you a secret.

"You wanted to keep us a secret because you were ashamed of me because I'm in Hufflepuff?"

"What?" he said, clearly taken aback and confused by your words. His eyes finally met yours, "I wanted to keep us a secret because I'm ashamed of myself. Because how could I openly date you when you're so kind and pure and I'm me. Look at me. I got into a fight with two people just because they're your friends. I'm not right for you, y/n. I'm not what you deserve, I'm violent and aggressive."

"Mattheo? Stop it. Don't talk about yourself like that, please. I'm with you because I like you for you and I want to be with you. I don't see you the way you see yourself. This whole time, I thought you wanted us to be a secret because you were embarrassed to be dating me and didn't want your friends to see."

"Fuck my friends."

You laughed softly at him, "I wish you had just said this to me, everything could have been avoided."

"I know," he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "I'm not good with words."

"Theodore said."

"You spoke to Nott?"

"He told me you told Malfoy you'd break his face if he spoke to me again."

"I will. I'm so sorry angel for not defending you, I should have punched Malfoy right then and there."

"Maybe not so much physical violence."

"I'll work on it. But I messed up so much y/n, I don't know how to make this up to you. I shouldn't have let you think for one minute that I was ashamed of you. How could I be. You're beautiful inside and out, like an angel. You're too pure for this world, for me."

You smiled away at his words and his actions as he brought up a bruised hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. Leaning into press a kiss on your forehead.

"I'm perfect for you as you are for me. You can make it up to me by apologising to Smith and Cadwallader and then finally taking me on a proper date."

"Fine, I'll apologise to Smith, I know he's your friend, but absolutely not to Cadwallader, he wanted to ask my girlfriend out."

"He didn't know I was your girlfriend." you pointed out.

"Don't give a fuck, I'll make everyone aware now. But yes, I will take you on a date. I've never been on a date before, but I'll do some research."

You giggled at his words, leaning into press a kiss onto his lips. You wrapped your hands around his neck, going into deepen the kiss but his groans from beneath stopped you.

"Sorry did I hurt you."

"No, no," he shook his head, but the look of pain on his face said otherwise. You got up from the floor, holding a hand out for him to take.

He took it and again leaned into press a kiss onto your forehead when he stood up to tower of you.

You looked up at him with wide eyes as he brought up a calloused hand to caress your cheek. "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen."

You smiled sweetly at him as you rubbed the blood of his lips, "You can stare at my beautiful eyes as much as you want after we visit Madam Pomfrey."

"Can't wait my love."

"My love? That's a new one, I like it."

He shrugged nonchalantly, "It's the truth. You are my love. I love you."

And just then, you wanted to melt into his chest. You leaned up to press a soft peck, before replying, "I love you too."

"Don't think anyone has ever loved me before."

"They're missing out on so much, but at least this way I have you all to myself. Loving you is so easy when you're not being a jealous ass."

"Hah, I deserved that. Of course, princess, I'm all yours. Come with me to the hospital wing."

Hand in hand, you both left the locker room, making your way through the castle to the hospital wing. You received a few shocked looks from classmates, but one look from Mattheo, and they instantly turned away. You laughed at this, happy to see the effect of your scary boyfriend.

Both Smith and Cadwallader were in the hospital wing, getting treated for their various cuts and bruises. You couldn't see from afar before, but Riddle really laid into them.

You turned to Mattheo, nodding in their direction. He rolled his eyes but eventually made his way over to them.

"I really don't want to y/n, I've never apologised for a fight." he said on the way over.

"You can start now."

Upon seeing Riddle, both Hufflepuff players instantly sat up, though both looked incredibly surprised to see your hand locked with the Slytherin boys.

"Hi. So I'm sorry, Smith, for picking a fight with you. My girlfriend likes you, so I guess you're alright. I'm not sorry to you though Cadwallader, you wanted to ask my girlfriend out."

Neither one of the boys replied, only stared with their mouths agape.

"Well?" Riddle asked almost threateningly.

"Babe that's not really an apology."

"It's the best they're getting from me." he shrugged before going to sit on a spare bed waiting patiently for Madame Pomfrey.

"Sorry about him." you smiled.

"Its ok y/n, just a bit shocked you're dating."

You nodded and explained how the relationship began.

"I'm happy for you y/n, you deserve a boy who'd kill for you. Preferably not us but oh well." Zacharias eventually said.

"Yeah, y/n, please tell him I'm really sorry for saying I'd ask you out, jheez I had no idea."

"No, it's fine really, how could you have known."

You said your byes and made your way back to Mattheo, who was getting treated by Madam Pomfrey. Upon seeing you, he smiled and opened up the duvet, making way for you.

"You can stay till visiting hours are over." warned Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm sorry again y/n." he whispered once she left.

"Don't be," you said as you turned to rest your head on his chest, "I just wish you would have told me."

He brought up a hand to play with your hair.

"I know, princess, you're mine, dont know why I'd wanna keep that a secret."

"At least Snape will go easier on me now if he knows I'm dating a slytherin."

Mattheo laughed, "You're using me now for connections. Don't worry, my love, everyone will know we're dating, I'll scream it in the courtyard if you want me to."

"That'd be nice."

#mattheo riddle fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter masterlist #harry potter fluff #theodore nott #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle imagine #slytherin #slytherin imagines

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sanctus-ingenium · 9 months

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we need to talk about Inprnt.com

Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.

First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.

(top right print is not from inprnt though)

They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.

Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.

Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.

And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.

Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:

Note the date.

Almost two months.

And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.

It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.

So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.

It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.

As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).

#it's so god damn insulting u know. even redbubble threw its shitty payouts directly into my paypal asap #inprnt

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vroomvroomcircuit · 3 months

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"Diamonds are made under pressure, aren't they?"

Summary: It's about treading the line between 'diamonds are made under pressure' and 'bread only rises through rest', describing the struggles of two people that come with being described as one of the best drivers to ever exist and the smartest person in the room

Pairing: Max Verstappen x engineer!reader

Wordcount: 2k

🏎Masterlist🏎

_______________________

“Diamonds are made under pressure.”

This is a sentence, a one-liner, that has been thrown at (Y/N) through an off-sentence by a friend during one of their most stressful weeks of university. Ever since she lived by it. It was one of the mantras she retold herself over and over again during one of too many all-nighters, only accompanied by sugary energy drinks and crippling anxiety about her future if she doesn't get through this assignment on time.

In the end it all, meaning the late nights and early mornings in libraries, study halls and classrooms, was worth it, the grind she held through her bachelors in engineering got her a seat on the Red Bull Racing team in Formula 1. Ultimately, it brought her to her true love, Max Verstappen.

They have similar mindsets, after all, there is always room for improvement and why wait for it when you can do it now? So many people are counting on them anyway.

This is something they have discussed during late night talks. These started back then when he was in his third year with Red Bull and (Y/N)’s first.

Max was about to leave the factory after a long day of working on the new car for the upcoming season. He stopped when he saw a light still burdening in one of the offices. Being the environmentally conscious person he is, he wanted to turn it off. Good one, Max. Without you Red Bull would go bankrupt based on the energy bills alone.

Instead of an empty office, he was met with wide eyes. “Uh, I apologize for running in like that. I thought somebody forgot to turn off the light”, the driver explained his sudden appearance.

After recovering from the initial shock of having her door thrown open out of the blue, (Y/N) was quick to put Max back at ease. “Oh no, it’s fine. I guess it really is late. I just wanted to run the suggestions you made to the team through a simulation and see if the outcome really does change like you expect it to.” The young woman smiled tiredly at him before continuing punching some numbers into her computer and sipping on a can of Red Bull (the orange one is the best, you can’t change my mind).

“You don’t sound convinced by my idea too much”, he noticed with a small grin of his own, “Was what I said not smart?” He still whacked his brain whether or not she was with the team he worked with today. He surely would remember, right?

“Oh, I would know what you said word for word, I was with the other driver today. But Mike gave me the notes and why wait to put what you suggested to work when I can do it now?” (Y/N) winks at him.

“And still you think it won’t work.” And with that they started an in depth discussion about the outcome that is to be expected with the proposed changes. In the middle of another Maxplaining (Y/N) just turned her computer screen towards the man leaning against the doorway, proving her point she told him from the beginning of their conversation.

“Well, I guess you need to explain these results to me. Maybe over a cup of coffee?”

“I definitely need to, can’t have our golden boy lack knowledge in the field of engineering. We want these Championship wins.” With that she packed her back. “I know a place that’s still open.”

Born with that are many more discussions, partially very heated even, that could only be solved by getting one of the heavy textbooks out that (Y/N) still kept from her uni days. Sometimes held over coffee in softly lighted cafes around the world, later during dinners, which are only interrupted by waiters desperately trying to get their attention to jot down their orders, and in the end they continue them in the security that only their own four walls can provide.

One time during a race weekend the whole team had a bet going on about how long the two can keep talking about the same subject. After two hours they had to be stopped, both of them needing to follow their own programme points of the day. GP won the bet, having to listen to their conversations on a regular basis with no way to escape them, because they are vital with important key information. Still, it doesn’t mean that they are exciting.

Now, three years after that initial meeting, three WDC and two WCC have been secured since. During that time the aspiring engineer decided to pursue a masters degree in technical engineering alongside her work in the team (or more like Christian offering her a whole ride paid by Red Bull after hearing her talking about this and knowing how much extra value this brings to the upcoming seasons).

The couple’s apartment in Monaco starts to look more like a library than a living space for humans, textbooks and loose papers scattered over every available surface and the floor of their office. While the driver greatly admires his love’s determination to get through her programme with the best possible grades, he starts to worry a bit. He has heard stories from her friends and family from her time at uni and what her study habits had looked like back then.

Hell, Max himself plants his ass for more hours on the sim than probably necessary, since there is always room for improvement. But seeing his girlfriend become a zombie version of the person he got to know was definitely not what he had expected when she signed up for going back to uni.

“Schatje? I thought you wanted to join me in bed?” Max asked (Y/N) tiredly, who is still sitting in her seat at the office desk while pouring over textbooks and a writing document on her laptop. His voice tells her that he already had fallen asleep, but something must have woken him up. Was she talking to herself again? She tends to do that when getting lost in her own world of equations and laws of physics.

“Yes, I will be with you in a minute. Let me just write this down, I finally understood that concept”, the engineer waved him off absentmindedly, the other hand retracing a line in a book, which has been assaulted by differently colored highlighters.

But Max is nothing but a stubborn man and if life had taught him one lection then it’s to never give up easily. “Come on, it’s really late and all your smart thoughts will still be there after you get some sleep”, he tried convincing her, moving closer and massaging the tension away from his girlfriend’s shoulders.

“I told you, I’ll be there in a sec. But a masters thesis doesn’t write itself and I would deeply appreciate it if you would leave me be to finish this up.” Frustration starts to set in (Y/N)’s voice.

Max is not irritated by it at all. He had been the same, if not worse, to her in his most challenging moments of his career. He knows that he can be a harsh person, unfortunately even to his loved ones. But that also means he knows how to deal with harsh people.

“You know what, I’ll put the kettle on and make us a cup of tea while you wrap this up and we meet again in the bedroom. Okay?” Softly spoken, the Dutchman proposes the idea to her.

(Y/N) can’t really say no to this, knowing that her brain wouldn’t be able to process and absorb much more information anyways. Still, there is a certain guilt gnawing on her conscience whenever she is about to take a break from her studies.

With puppy dog eyes the engineer looks up to her boyfriend. “Can you make it a hot chocolate, please? And maybe some of the cookies you brought home from the bakery?” Her small voice is enough to ask Max to do nothing short of a murder and he would say yes without wasting any thoughts on it. “Of course, Schatje. Anything for my smart and brilliant girl.” He presses a kiss on her forehead before disappearing from the office.

Not long after this the couple finds themselves sipping from their mugs with some calming music playing in the background and munching on some treats.

“My love, I feel like when I talk to you now about the importance of taking breaks and resting, we both will have a déjà-vu,” Max says with a small smile.

He is not wrong. They actually talked about it a couple of months ago when Max had to be dragged off the sim, because he had been stressing himself out about a particular race way too much to consider it a healthy try to improve.

“I know, I know. It’s just, being smart is not easy and I try to live up to the title of the clever woman in my family and in the team,” (Y/N) confesses quietly. The driver puts his arm around her shoulders and pulls her further into his embrace.

“What do you mean, Schatje? What do you have to live up to?” Murmurs are whispered into her hair.

“It can be hard, being the smart one. Because as soon as people catch on, they start expecting things from you. Suddenly, you are knowledgeable in every single subject available on earth. You become other people’s measurement scale. When they get something right and you wrong, they will rub it into your face.

You have to do great things, because they want you to do that. You will get pressured into using your intellect to the fullest extent, because otherwise they say your potential is wasted. Nobody wants you to do that, it would be a shame. Apparently to everybody and their mother.

This is why I sometimes hate to be the smart one. No one wants me to be average, they need me to be exceptional. That’s why I have to study hard and read everything there is on this subject. And diamonds are made under pressure, aren’t they?”

Max understands the kind of pressure that is on her. He felt like that for the majority of his life, having to exceed the expectations of other people over and over again, because only meeting them just is not enough.

Either he is the best driver out there or he shouldn’t even bother to try. That is something he had been told from his early days into his driving career. He lived by it like it was the only truth that mattered.

This was until he met her. (Y/N) showed him that trying is better than never starting. That his best will always be enough. Nobody has been born being a master in something. Failing is an important part of the way to perfection. Mistakes have to be made to improve, to learn what needs to be improved.

And he wants to show her that all of this also counts for her, too.

“Do you wanna know what Christian said to me a couple of months ago? ‘Just like dough, you can rise only if you rest.’ You need time to recharge to be able to do your best. Let’s take the day tomorrow off, recharge our batteries and just laze around and snooze in a bit. After tomorrow, I’ll help you study.”

A study date with Max Verstappen is too good to say no to. Whenever he quizzes (Y/N), she gets a kiss for every correct answer. So the questions might get easier over time. Still, he motivates her to do her best while looking out for her water intake and food consumption and taking regular breaks for stretching her body or going for a walk.

Max is right, you need to rest to continue achieving greatness.

#max verstappen x reader #x reader #reader insert #max verstappen x you #max verstappen image #max verstappen x engineer!reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic

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wip · 2 months

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For a long time now, it's been impossible to see comments or reblogs with comment/tags on posts over a certain age when using the mobile app or blog view. Today I was looking at a post from 2015 that I knew had at least one reblog comment and lots of tags, but all the reblogs were under "other". I found the comment (but couldn't see any tags) by going to the [blog name].tumblr.com/post/[###] link and scrolling through all the notes in one list, but it's impossible anywhere else.

I know this probably has to do with the many changes Tumblr has gone through in that time, but it's still really inconvenient to have disappearing notes on the platform where part of the charm is that posts can survive for, at this point, almost a decade and a half.

Is it even possible to fix this, and of so, is it something you would consider?

Answer: Hey there, @maplerosekisses!

It is possible to fix this, and we would like to fix it, but it’s a daunting problem at Tumblr’s scale. Buckle up for storytime.

Long, long ago, Tumblr was created, and in the beginning, there weren’t even notes on posts. There weren’t even reblogs or likes. In fact, we were one of the first platforms to introduce the heart icon and the concept of “likes”! We created the reblog! Back in those days, each of these actions were tracked separately. Likes were tracked in one database table and reblogs weren’t tracked at all as notes. When we introduced replies, those had yet another way of being tracked in our database. Totally separate entities on the platform for years.

Eventually, we wanted to consolidate these into one number—so we had to count each of those different places. That’s horribly inefficient, and as Tumblr grew in size and popularity, this became a bottleneck that hurt the whole platform. So one of the things we did was to invent a new denormalized database table called “notes,” to track all of these different things in one place so we could easily count them. We still have that table, and it’s still the fallback whenever we need to count the notes on a post.

But this itself is ancient history. Since then, the product has changed even more, and we removed replies and re-added them later, back in 2015 or so—and made some changes in that process to help further improve efficiency. These improvements allowed us to include media in the notes view, and be able to split out replies versus reblogs-with-comment versus likes (kind of going back to the way it was originally.) Even then, we didn’t yet support showing tag usage in the notes—that would come even later.

In the process of making all of these changes for efficiency and functionality, we had to ask ourselves, as you point out: should we try to backfill these new database tables with all of the data from before? For a long while, we were using both systems to power the notes view, so we could display as much information from “before” as we could. Eventually, we didn’t need to do that anymore, because the number of people scrolling back to that “before” time became infinitesimally small. And that's the situation we’re in today.

Because if we wanted to backfill the data, we would need to process literally tens of billions of posts and notes from before 2015, at a conservative estimate. Let’s say it’s 10,000,000,000, for the sake of argument: if we started an automated process to go through them at ~100 per second (which would be relatively safe at our scale, so Tumblr doesn’t break as we’re digging up these old rows in the database), it would take over three years of continuous operation to complete that task.

In situations like this, we have to ask ourselves if that’s worth it. So far, the answer we’ve determined is no. But we may find a more efficient way to do it, there’s undoubtedly a way, and when we do, we will re-evaluate the decision again. We hope that makes sense—trying to make changes to Tumblr can be really, really hard.

But thank you for your question. We appreciate them and hope that goes some way to answering your query. Keep 'em coming, y'all.

#feature #notes #posting #reblogs

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little-tainted-angel · 4 months

Text

๑ A secret between interlinked fingers.

Tim Drake x male!reader

Category: [Fluff/sfw/comical(?)]

Warnings: 5/5 bat-bros (Dick, Jason, Tim, Duke and Damian), male reader. Mention of Cassandra. 4/5 bat-bros don't believe Tim could go to therapy at all (I doubt any of them would). Reader uses Spanish pet names. May be too OOC.

Request: Yes / No | From: Anon.

«Hey! Could you please write Tim Drake x reader? Basically Tim is secretly dating a guy and they nostly hang out at school, his brother's get a bit too curious and listen in <3»

Note: My first request! Glad to have you here <3 I apologize if this isn't linked to your ask, Tumblr for some reason wouldn't let me edit it. I only had the options "delete" "program publication" and "post". Also, sorry this is short and if I got the characters personality wrong, I don't really know how to write Tim.

Resume: Tim and reader are dating, but they mostly just spend time in their school. His brothers got curious, and since all of them were raised by the world's best detective, is up to them to resolve the mystery that is Tim's relationship.

"I swear there's something strange in the kid's behavior," Jason muttered as he sat down on the couch, next to Damian while Duke was sitting on the other extreme. Dick was standing in front of them.

The four brothers (Cass also noticed, but Cass being Cass had already found out what it was), noticed that the brother —that was currently disappeared from the manor— had slight changes in his behavior.

It was sort of positive, they noticed. But they didn't know what caused it (therapy was discarded as an option by group agreement).

"Maybe he's self-improving for once?" Duke suggested, though he didn't sound convinced himself.

"TT. Doubt that Drake of all people could self-improve his pathetic self," Damian rolled his eyes.

"Damian, be nice," Dick sighed, looking at one of his baby brothers.

"Well, there must be a reason of why this small change." Jason crossed his arms.

"...And if we follow him to find out the reason?" Duke suggested.

"Wouldn't he notice?" Dick raised an eyebrow.

"It won't hurt giving it a try," he shrugged.

"I say we do it. What can end up wrong?" Jason pointed out.

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣🌸￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

"All of this is ridiculous," Damian murmured.

"You agreed to it Habibi," Jason hummed, making Damian click his tongue.

The brothers managed to follow Tim to his school. That was the moment they noticed a male getting closer to Tim with a smile.

You were a new addition, they quickly realized. As they had never seen you before with Tim. And Tim seemed at ease with you.

"A boy?" Dick said amused. "That's the cause for Tim's subtle change?"

Don't get him wrong, his baby brother can date whoever he wants. He was just surprised Tim changed because of someone else.

"Who is dumb enough to be interested in him?" Damian replied, clearly not believing what he was seeing.

"That guy we just saw, apparently," Duke hummed.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩ

"Everything okay, Amor?" You asked Tim, as he seemed to be slightly on edge.

"Yeah...I just feel like someone's watching me." Tim replied, sighing as he left his head rest on your shoulder. He was tired, you could tell.

You hummed softly as one hand came to brush his hair out of his face.

"When did you last slept?" You asked him, quietly enough for no one else to hear you.

Tim grumbled quietly, avoiding the question.

"Cariño, when did you last slept?" You asked again with a small sigh.

"...48 hours ago?"

"Tim."

"You asked."

"Do I have to drug you for you to sleep properly?" You murmured, gently massaging his scalp.

"Mmm....maybe," Tim replied back, closing his eyes as he left you touch his hair.

"What am I supposed to do with you, Amor?"

"Love me," Tim replied.

"I already do that, it's easy," you said amused.

Tim grumbled some sort of answer that you couldn't process.

"Yeah, you're definitely sleep deprived, Amor."

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

#dc x male reader #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake x male reader #dc x reader #batfamily #batfam #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #duke thomas #cassandra cain #reader #male reader

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csuitebitches · 1 year

Text

On Getting Rid of Your Inferiority Complex

You can take advice from everyone and every book you read, but no one can protect you proactively, unless you choose to protect yourself. Only you can do that for yourself. Your parents, friends, partner can support you emotionally but you need to stop relying so much on external validation.

When you’re making a choice that you know is going to be detrimental to your health, whether its physical, mental or emotional - such as going back to your ex, not taking the next steps for your career/ education - you need to think more about your (near) future self and make sure that she’s also comfortable. You need to think long term.

As we grow up, we often encounter situations that we’ve been in before to some degree, there’s somewhat a pattern to them. It’s time to start recognising them early and leave when you see the red flags waving.

By breaking your own word that you’ve made to yourself you’re making the inferiority complex worse. Because you’re showing to your subconscious mind that you don’t matter at all. Others do.

It could be something “small” such as going out clubbing with your friends because you couldn’t say no - and having an important presentation due the next day. It could be something “big” such as breaking off a difficult relationship, and still going back to them.

When we suffer from an inferiority complex, we idolise people around us and think they’re better than us in every way. We choose to see the best in them- just the way we choose to see the worst in ourselves.

At some point, we have had enough and decide to start improving ourselves. How do we do this? By improving ourselves in areas that you feel left out in.

Such as, seeing an influencer live your dream life. Now you’ll do everything you can to live like her because you think that once you achieve that, everything will be great. You try to improve in areas that have no direct relation to your inferiority complex.

You’ll try work on these things - while that can be in a way good because it’s alright to have a dream life and motivation for it, that doesn’t fix the inferiority issue.

Because the inferiority issue solely comes from lack of confidence and trust in yourself. Even if you get your ideal life like that influencer, that confidence won’t last long and you’ll find something else to panic about - you’ll compare yourself to your peers, or the anxiety of jobs after or the next shiny thing you want.

To actually combat inferiority issues you HAVE to build a connection with yourself. True confidence will only come when you connect with yourself with things that aren’t material things.

You need to cultivate a growth mindset and genuinely believe that you WILL get better with time, you WILL get smarter with time, you will improve your talent over time. You have to detach yourself from outcomes, whether positive or negative and just take it as life.

And this doesn’t happen overnight. It takes consistent effort to not feel fomo anymore or feel shitty.

You have to stop hesitating putting yourself first, putting your emotional needs first, standing up for yourself and saying a big fuck you to things that deserve it.

Not everything that you have today will be permanent in your life and that’s something you have to come to terms with.

But if your worth is fully dependent on other people, then you really need to sit down with yourself and start actually working on the relationship that matters the most - the one with yourself.

You’re intimidated by these influencers or the people who you want to be like, not because they wear designer bags, have cool outfits, vacations, boyfriends, girlfriends - but because they often have a very strong sense of identity.

They express what they like and don’t like. They don’t change themselves depending on the person in front of them. If there’s something they want, they go and get it. They pursue what makes them happy.

When do you plan on doing that for yourself?

So how do you do it?

You need to build a strong sense of self identity.

How? By dating yourself. Ask yourself questions that you would ask someone on a first date. What are your answers? These answers will not remain the same over time and they shouldn’t either. Here are some as a guide:

1. What do you like in general?

2. What do you dislike in general?

3. List all the things you like about yourself

4. List all the things you can improve about yourself

5. Where would you ideally want to be in 2 years?

6. What sort of a life do you wish you had right now?

Next step is continue dating yourself. Aim for one new experience a week. It doesn’t have to be major. It could be something simple such as a cooking a meal you’ve never made, solving crossword puzzles, trying to grow herbs, colouring books. With new experiences, you learn something about yourself, which allows you further build a connection with yourself. Literally date yourself.

Take care of yourself the way you would care for a partner. How do you want to be cared for? What makes you feel loved and appreciated? Show yourself the same things too.

#c suite #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #that girl #productivity #strong women #getting your life together #feminine energy #balance #inferiority complex #fomo #insecure #insecurity #confidence #confident #secure #how to become confident

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vioartemis · 1 year

Text

I'll sit with you in the dark

(Wednesday Addams x fem! childhood friend! reader)

Summary: You first met Wednesday when you were just kids, and eventually became friend with her. Years later, you meet again at Nevermore... Warnings: none (?) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday was upset. Her parents were forcing her to go to a new school. Their old school, Nevermore. She hadn't planned on staying long though, a few days in and she would mysteriously disappear.

"Wednesday, this is Enid Sinclair" principal Weems said

"Howdy roomie!"

The blonde girl tried to hug the ravenette, who took a step back. Physical touch. Disgusting.

"Not a hugger, got it"

"Excuse Wednesday" Morticia started " she's allergic to col-"

She was interrupted by someone bursting through the door.

"Fuck yeah I was right!"

"What did we already told you about swearing, young lady?" principal Weems said "I'm sorry for that Mrs Addams. This is-"

"Y/n L/n."

Hearing Wednesday say your name, your lips curled up into a wild smile.

"So you do remember me uh?"

"How could I not?"

You and Wednesday were childhood friends. You met when you were 5. You were in the same class, but you started talking during one of her birthday parties. The one with the piñata filled up with spiders.

While every other kid ran away, you sat on the floor and played with a spider, letting it climb on you, to everyone's surprise.

"Anyways, I'm not gonna stay long or I'll be in trouble. I just wanted to give you this"

You walked up to her, before mumbling intelligible words. A black dahlia appeared in your hand, which you handed to the ravenette. She looked at it for a second with suspicious eyes.

"You can take it, it won't explode this time. I grew it myself. Just teleported it from my dorm"

She finally took the flower after one more look.

"It seems you have improved dear Y/n" Morticia said

You turned around to face her and Gomez.

"Thanks again for the book you gave me, Mrs Addams. It really helped"

While you talked with her parents, Wednesday's eyes didn't leave the flower you gave her. You remembered it was one of her favorites. You remembered your promise to give one to her when you'd meet again. And, most importantly, you were still wearing that bracelet.

She looked back at you, analyzing how you've changed since the last time she saw you. You were different, back in the days. You were cute. A cute little mouse. But now... She wouldn't say you were cute anymore.

She would rather say beautiful. You looked more like a true witch now. Or at least you had the aura of one.

"I am sorry to interrupt, but Wednesday still has a school to visit." reminded Weems "Miss L/n, don't you have anything to do?"

"Ahh yes yes sorry. I'm glad I could meet you again, Mr and Mrs Addams." you turned to face your friend, still smiling "I'll see you around, Wednesday"

The way you said her name made butterflies spiders grow in the ravenette's stomach. And your smile... That smile she didn't think she could see ever again...

After her new roommate showed her the school, Wednesday came back to her dorm. She was taking off the colorful stuff Enid put on the window when you knocked at the door.

"Want some help?" you asked

"It would be appreciated."

You made your way to the window and took off some of the colorful panels. Enid wouldn't be happy about that, but Wednesday and colors didn't really go together.

"How did you know?"

"Hm?"

"You said you were right. Plus you said you grew the dahlia yourself. So I assume you were talking about my arrival here. Am I wrong?"

"I heard someone new was coming. And that they murdered a student in their old school by putting piranhas in the pool. Couldn't be anyone else than you. Plus I had a feeling we'd meet soon."

"I see."

You put the last panel on the floor, not saying a word, as you knew she preferred silence over small talk.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

"Yeah but- if I wanted to do that, how much do you think I'll need?"

"Why would you want to do that in the first place??" Enid asked with disgust

"I say if I wanted to, that's hypothetical. We never know what can happen Enid. Better be prepared"

"In what kind of situation would you need to throw a corpse in an acid bath?"

You waved your hand in the air, like you swept her question away.

"That's not important. I just need to know how much acid I'd need"

"Why don't you ask Wednesday? She sure knows the answer"

"Yeah I know. I just- it's basic murder knowledge.. she will be disappointed I don't know that.."

"Why do you care so much about what she thinks of you? You don't have a crush on her, do you?"

You didn't say anything, looking at your feet in embarrassment. You knew what Wednesday thought about romantic relationships. Pathetic, she would say.

"YOU DO!!"

Enid jumped in excitement, clapping her hands, before shaking you slightly back and forth for a second and hugging you tight.

"Enid- I can't breath- and for fuck's sake please keep your voice low..!"

While you were patting the werewolf's back to calm her down, Wednesday was watching you from afar. Oh how she wanted to rip the blonde's head off at this moment.

She clenched her fist so hard that small drops of blood started to fall onto the ground.

Why was she hugging you like that, her body fully pressed against yours? And most importantly, why weren't you doing anything about that?

You were hers.

You were always hugging Enid or other people. But you never tried to hug her. Not that she'd want to. Of course not.

But, maybe, she wanted to know what your body would feel like. How your lips would taste like.

She never thought she'd ever be romantically attracted to someone. But then she met you again, years after you left with you parents.

Obviously she could just confess to you. But even if she would never admit it, she was scared. Scared that you wouldn't share her feelings. That you would leave her. Again.

She liked being alone. But being alone with you... Now that's what she really wanted. But ask her and she will threaten to skin you alive.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A few days had passed since Wednesday saw Rowan getting killed in the forest. No one believed her, as everyone saw him the day after the attack.

You didn't know why she would lie about that, but you saw him too.

You were thinking about all those events, in your bed, incapable of sleeping, when you heard a knock at your door.

You stood up slowly, half dressed, and opened the door.

"Wednesday..? Wha-"

"I need your help."

"It's 3 am...?"

"I know. May I come in?"

"Uhh... sure"

You step to the side.

"What can I help you with?"

"I need you to go in my mind."

"Wha-"

"Find the memory of the attack. I am not lying, Y/n. Plus you could see what the monster looks like."

"I-" you sighed "Okay, let's do that"

You lit some candles and put them into a circle, leaving space in the middle for you to sit. Fortunately, your roommate wasn't here...

You gestured her to sit in front of you.

"I'll need to hold your hands, if that's okay for you"

She nodded, letting you take her hands in yours. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, before entering her mind.

Wow. Her mind was really organized. The memory will be easier to find that way.

You found it pretty quickly, and practically jumped when you saw the monster. God it was ugly. You rewatched the scene a few times, just to be sure Rowan didn't have any chance to survive this.

Having someone looking into her mind was quite strange for Wednesday. She didn't know what to expect before coming, and now that's she was here she didn't know what to think of it.

She could feel where you were looking in her mind. Couldn't explain it, but she felt it. So she was a bit surprised when she felt you looking at what she thought of you.

She didn't let go of your hands though. No. She let you watch whatever you wanted. She wanted you to see what you meant to her. What she would do for you.

You quickly went out of her mind after seeing all of that, trying not to blush and quite ashamed of yourself. Spying on people's thoughts was really not something you approved, but at the moment you just couldn't help it.

"I- I'm sorry I-" you stooped a second "I saw things I wasn't supposed to look at.. I- I saw you were interested in some witchcraft stuff..? What about you go in my mind and look at what you want to know..?"

Oh so you were lying now. Interesting, Wednesday thought.

You weren't aware of the fact that people could feel where you looked in their mind, that's why you lied. Plus you didn't know how she would've reacted if you confronted her directly.

"I only have visions, Y/n. I am not a psychic."

"I know, I'll just project my mind into yours, if you're interested by-"

"Fine."

You blinked twice, surprised by her fast reply, before closing your eyes once again and projecting your mind into her own.

Contrary to Wednesday's mind, yours was a mess. Some thoughts were bigger than others, some were hiding, jumping (?), running away or just lying there like they were dying.

One of the biggest thoughts she could see was your witchcraft knowledge, which wasn't much of a surprise. The other big thought was, to her surprise, her.

Before she could realize it, she was already reviewing memories of you two. But not only that. She saw the moment you realized you fell for her.

On the other hand, you had no idea where she was looking in your mind. As she wasn’t in your mind, but in a projection of your mind, you couldn't feel anything.

Eventually, she came out of your mind, a slight smirk on her face, knowing you wanted her as bad as she wanted you.

She slowly approached you, taking advantage of your still closed eyes, your hands still in hers. Feeling movement, you opened your eyes, just as she sat on your lap.

"Wednesday what are yo-"

"Shh, we've lost enough time, don't you think, Cara Mia?"

You were a blushing mess. She was so close to you your lips almost touched. You could feel her breath on your lips when she murmured:

"Dame un beso, mi amor"

You spoke enough spanish to understand what she wanted, and kissed her within a second. The ravenette cupped your cheeks, lips not leaving yours, as your hands made their way up to her waist.

She pulled away after a moment, staying only inches away from your face, looking directly into your gorgeous e/c eyes.

"I hope you understand that I am not going to bring any light in your life, mi amor”

"I don't need you to light up my world" you smiled "I'll sit with you in the dark."

#wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x fem reader #wednesday addams x fem reader #wednesday netflix

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luveline · 11 months

Note

jade to say i’m obsessed with eddie and roan is an understatement. can we see r walk in on eddie and roan having a tea party and the fun that follows - tysm ily!!!

thank you for your request my love! dad!eddie x fem!reader

You're so used to coming home to Eddie in the kitchen that his not being there actually makes you nervous. The feeling doesn't last very long —you can hear him laughing in the living room.

You close the door quietly and slip out of your shoes. You hang your coat and bag on the bannister of the stairs and walk the short distance to the living room door, immediately laying eyes on your very favourite people in the whole world.

When Eddie and Roan first moved in with you, you gave away your coffee table to make room for some of her toys. Eddie was horrified at first: you were moving in together, and it was scary, and you knew he was scared of you changing your mind, so he hated how many changes you made. The child proof locks on the cleaning supplies cabinet, the new kitchen table with enough seats for all of you, the improvement of your guest bedroom into a princess paradise of silk sheets and fairy lights for Ro. The thing that scared him most of all was the coffee table, worried you were cutting things out of your life for them, worried you would resent him for that.

You have yet to feel any such emotion. You didn't even really like the coffee table, though that isn't the point.

Roan's picnic table, painted pink you know by Eddie when she was maybe three years old, is flocked by mismatched chairs. There's a drum stool from a set of drums Eddie doesn't own, a pink and green plastic chair, and a regular wooden stool with a flower painted on the seat. Eddie sits on the flower stool, Roan sits on the pink and green chair like a throne, and the drum stool remains empty, though a Teddy has been propped up on the leg with a saucer in hand.

"I need more sugar in mine," Eddie says, holding his cup out to Roan.

She holds court. In her favourite turquoise princess dress that's getting much too small for her, the back button undone, and a plastic tiara you got for her when you barely knew her, Roan takes a little plastic spoon from the table and spoons imaginary sugar into Eddie's teacup.

"Thanks, babe."

"You're welcome."

Eddie doesn't look nearly as royal. He's wearing sweatpants but no shirt on account of the insufferable hot weather, his tattoos always surprising despite having seen them hundreds and hundreds of times.

There's his simple flock of bats, his demon puppeteer and its puppet on strings. There's the clock over his heart, hands pointing to the time his mother passed. That one shocked you the most, when he told you. He doesn't talk about his mom much. When he does, it's with the reverential adoration of a child who thinks the world was made by their parent, exactly how Roan speaks about Eddie when he's not around.

And there's his R, for Roan, behind his ear. You can barely see it. You'd paid for it as a birthday present not that long ago, and ever since he's started wearing his hair back more and more, like he wants to show it off. He usually has his hair tied back at work anyways, and the heat today is stickying.

He’s shirtless but wearing socks, you realise. What a weirdo.

"We could have a real tea party," Eddie suggests. "I'm not busy. I can make some sandwiches and we can have sweet tea?"

"Y/N will be home soon," she says, shaking her head.

"She won't mind."

"No, but she doesn't like sandwiches."

"Who told you that?"

"She says they're not big enough."

"She means when you only eat one and nothing else for your lunch at school, babe. She wants you to eat the crackers and the cut fruit, too, so you're not hungry before you come home."

Roan shrugs. Eddie shrugs back, laughing, and takes a pretend sip of tea. "Well, excuse me," he says against the lip of his teacup.

"I like sandwiches," you say, finally breaking your cover.

Eddie flinches bodily, not having known you were there, his saucer tumbling to the floor. Roan doesn't flinch but she does shout, "Woah!" and stands up from her chair.

"Sorry, Eddie," you say with a laugh. "I didn't mean to scare you. Sandwiches can be such a spooky business."

"Loser," he says, standing too.

Roan climbs onto the couch and up over the back to get her after school hug. You receive her eagerly, her cool lengths of skirt and all her dark curls under your hands as familiar as her smell, baby shampoo, jelly bean body wash, and the pleased laughing sound she makes as she rubs her face against your neck.

"You used to be so little," you say, propping your cheek on her temple.

Eddie meets your eyes over her head and grimaces at you. "She's getting older every day."

"We missed you a lot," Roan says.

"You did? What for? It's only been a couple of hours."

"Because we love you and we need you to have dinner."

You laugh suddenly. It actually hurts, like a cough, "You just wanted me to come home so you could have dinner."

"Not true," she says, sounding guilty.

"You not feeding my girl?" you ask.

"We had a whole bag of honey barbecue chips waiting!" Eddie denies, rounding the couch to kiss your cheek. "And they were awesome and we didn't save any for you. Suck it."

"Mean."

"Will you come and have a cup of tea?" Roan asks you, taking on a posh effect.

"Oh, I'd be delighted," you croon in a bad proper accent.

Roan beams, overjoyed, and bounces back down onto the couch. You sit down at her tea table as Eddie leaves for the kitchen, calling, "Two minutes, I'm making some sandwiches for my poor hungry offspring!"

He returns with a plate of big sandwiches, another bag of chips, and a jug of sweet tea you'd been steeping in the fridge. Your stomach rumbles as soon as you set eyes on the food and Roan is the same: Eddie sets the sandwiches down between you, and you and Roan descend on them like piranhas scenting blood.

He gathers the tea cups and the small teapot and takes them to the kitchen. They're damp when he brings them back and sits down, "Ready for tea," he says. "All clean."

Eddie pours tea from the jug into the teapot and allows Roan the honour of pouring it into your cups. She's ecstatic. He's made her incredibly, overwhelmingly happy with such a small gesture, her little face contorted by the force of her smile.

"For you, good sir," she says, lifting her teapot from Eddie's cup.

"Thank you, madam," he says.

She lifts her pert chin. "Of course, Mister Munson. Tea, lady?" she asks you.

Your mouth is so full of sandwich you can barely speak. "Yes, please."

She chuffs happily and fills your cup. Eddie leans across the table to tuck her wild hair behind her ears, all the gentleness of a devoted father but all the expertise of someone who's had to corral unruly curls for more than twenty years.

"Please get off," she says.

Eddie tucks his hands under his thighs, properly chastised. "Sorry, babe."

"It's okay. Do you want chips?"

"Not in my tea, right?"

"No, dad, with your sandwich, duh."

"Duh," you echo.

He reaches under the table to punch your thigh. You jump and ram your knee into the table, tea sloshing over the sides of your cups. Roan squeals in horror, while Eddie laughs and pinches you again.

512 notes · View notes

fhrlclln · 10 months

Note

Could you write Miguel hates everyone but you please.

miguel o’hara x spider!gn! reader

ANONNN YESSS, the thought made my toes curl how he’d automatically go soft on you at any moment LOLLL, like his annoyance would fizzle out just one word or glance from you (basically i want him obsessed with me 🤪).

｡･:*˚:✧｡

if you knew better, you know well not to get on miguel’s nerves.

he’s a busy man, stressed and fighting his way through his mission of keeping the multiverse in-tact. lyla once said that he wasn’t all like this before, just that everything had weighed on him the moment he discovered what keeps every spider-person’s dimension stable, learning from his own personal mistake. basically, you think the spider-society’s leader is kind of… unstable? kinda, if mentally but overall, you think he just hates everyone.

it was common to see him snapping at people, mostly the ones who get on his nerves frequently. but most of the time, he’s strict and scarily assertive when it comes to normal matters that need his guidance. everyone in the spider-society don’t really care if they pissed their leader off in some way but they were aware not to push his buttons. they just kinda wished he was more fun since they deemed him as the only spiderman who isn’t ‘funny.’ hell, everyone wanted to see if he’d throw that attitude away for once.

but maybe he did.

it was subtle, subtle you couldn’t even make it out.

“a new suit you’re building?” miguel’s shoulder’s tensed at the sudden boom of your voice, yet instantly he relaxes as you hop of the ceiling to stand by his side while he works on his own suit. “hope i’m not intruding.” you quickly follow up, realizing your mistake of not knocking or something.

“in the progress, yes.” miguel says, without much sarcasm or annoyance. you relax as well as miguel continued on working, not minding you were here it seems. he was quiet as you knew, you knew from observation that he liked working alone most of the time.

“that’s cool! how far are you enhancing from this suit?” you asked, utterly excited now as you gesture to his original suit. miguel seems amused, as you expected him to shut you off or ask why you were here but he merely chuckles, liking your curiosity.

“way far, trying to improve it’s durability and other things here and there, sensors, these web wings...” he gestures to the material underneath the armpits of the suit. a fine light byte material as you noticed. “and more.” he looks down to the other parts of the suit, proud.

you hummed, taking the to admire his craftsmanship. it certainly was a big change to his suit now as you can see, the color theme was changed as well, incorporating white in it but still had that usual tone. your eyes wandered, taking every little detail until one had your eyes widening.

“are those… boot jets?” you bend down to take a better look, as the suit was situated by wires, hanging a top.

“yes. for boosting flight speed mainly.” he says, grabbing one of the soles as he shows it to you. your eyes sparkled as you touched it, amazed how a booster could fit that small.

“amazing, miguel! wished my suit was capable of that.” you smiled as miguel shrugs at it, though a small smile is graced on his lips from your compliment. “what else are you innovating?”

miguel gestures to the wrist of the suit’s gloves as he picks something off the table from the side to show it to you. it was small arachnid shaped objects he presented as he demonstrates it by flinging it off way up as he shoots it with his laser webs causing a small explosion to occur, making you jump.

“explosives—“

miguel lets you take one of small explosives from his hand with astonishment as he softly explains along what they are. “prototype explosives. yeah, they’re something i’ve been—“

“what are we talking about today?! i just heard an explosion, i thought we were keeping it baby-proof here, miguel!” peter’s cheery voice suddenly took over as miguel let out a tiny exasperated sigh at the sudden intrusion. you waved in greeting as the father-daughter duo made their way towards the two of you. mayday happily napping in peter’s baby sling.

“there is no such thing of baby-proofing a lab, peter.” he grunts, resuming his antics as peter cooly dismisses his unwelcoming attitude. his face remains passive yet his tone was off, you noticed. “what do you want?”

“important matters. sorry for intruding whatever you two are doing, was it serious?” peter takes a knowing glance at you as you chuckled.

miguel rolls his eyes. “it was not—“

“it’s no big deal, peter. was just stopping by for miguel.” you smiled at him, looking back at miguel as you sensed some serious matter was going to be discussed as you excused yourself now. “i’ll be heading back now. miguel, if you have the time i’d love to hear more of the suit.”

miguel nods gently, the sudden look of annoyance dying down from his face a bit as you waved goodbye to peter, not forgetting to whispering a bye-bye to mayday as well. the two men stood in silence as peter seemed to catch something on as miguel went back to his desk, resuming his work.

“so, you really don’t hate everyone, huh?” peter starts, amused. very amused at the sudden subtle change. amused as well that he just won the bet that their leader didn’t hate everyone in fact.

“what does that have to mean?” miguel raises a brow at the assumption.

“oh, i don’t know… but, well for one, you aren’t that snappy at them than to me and maybe so on…” peter says mischievously, looking back to where you exited, chuckling as he smirks as miguel catches on with that implication and the tease. the tip of his ears heating up that as he turns his back at him.

“stop assuming things, parker.” he says defensively, peter raises his hands in defense as well, yet still not letting it go for a moment before they finally talk about the more serious matters. though, his mind yet ponders at what truth was said. it wasn’t that true that he hates everyone… everyone just annoys him but, yeah…

maybe he does like you, it seems.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

i want him fr

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fluff #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse spoilers #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

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rea-grimm · 5 months

Note

Hi, I hope you are well. Once again, one of your faithful followers (Luffy Dragon fan 💖) comes with a new request (if you can, obviously).

the last chapter of op made me realize that Sanji ignores and is less gentlemanly towards women who show signs of liking him. I wonder if we can get something where the reader is obviously in love with Sanji (corpse of the boyfriend) and he is completely indifferent or clueless about it, while following his behavior in love with other girls and being a great "dude, look what you have in front of you" "

xo ♥️ congratulations on the 2500 likes

Hi, I had quite tought week, but I’m better now. Hope you are well too. I’m happy to hear from you. You have really good request. ❤️

Hope you enjoy this.

Dude, look what you have in front of you- Corpse Sanji

You were head over heels in love with Sanji. Everyone on board knew it, but the only cook was completely blind to you. Yes, he treated you almost the same way he treated Nami or Robin. Although sometimes you had the impression that he took you more for granted. As a sidekick and nakama.

How you wished he felt for you the way you felt for him. To try to woo you like he tried to woo other girls who rejected him when they found out the truth.

You were sorry to see him melt over the other girls. How he got down on one knee and kept asking for their hand in marriage. You knew that was one of the main reasons he was among the living. His biggest regret.

When you saw him with other girls, it always made your heart skip a beat and you had to do everything you could to not let it show on yourself.

The new island was a new opportunity for the chef to find a new girl. You were out shopping and you passed a small square with a small group of beautiful girls among the people.

As soon as Sanji saw the beauties, he dropped his shopping bags and headed towards them. He showered them with compliments before getting down on one knee and asking for their hand in marriage. The girls were just giggling.

You picked up your bags and walked to the side with them when the wind picked up out of nowhere. This wind was a bad omen for Sanji as it blew his bangs to the side, exposing his eye. Or rather an empty socket where the eye should have been.

The girls he had been focusing on until now ran away screaming and left him kneeling on the ground alone, with a completely broken expression.

The cook walked over to you brokenly, lit a cigarette and took your bags, saying he would take them on the ship. He hated these reactions. It reminded him so much that he was no longer alive. Just a corpse waiting for a miracle.

You wanted to somehow improve his mood, so you used this opportunity and went to the shop you passed on the way. To a shop that sold prosthetics. From limbs, dentures, and eyes. You knew what eye colour to choose for him. No one else you knew had eyes as blue as his.

On the boat you gave him your little gift, like a little thing, a souvenir you would call it. The others were there too and they all saw how happy Sanji was. Heart in his eyes, he hugged you on his knees.

You and everyone else had already started to think that this would make the cook notice you and see how you felt about him. Nothing could be further from the truth as nothing has changed at all. As soon as another girl flashed past him, or Nami and Robin, his head was in the clouds.

Despite all this, you had the impression that it would end like this and sighed in disappointment. You felt like you were chasing an even more impossible dream than your captain was chasing.

You saw that things with Sanji were difficult and apparently impossible and you slowly gave up. You didn't even know how, but you found your solace in the swordsman and the doctor.

Both of them supported you and Zoro even offered to knock some sense into the cook. It sounded tempting, but you talked him out of it.

This small change didn't go unnoticed by Sanji and he got the impression that you had started something with the swordsman. He didn't understand at all what you saw in that mosshead. That's why he also went to see him, what was his problem, that you spent so much time with him.

Zoro didn't understand at all. It was the chef's bad luck, he had his chance with you. And even though you tried to act like you got over it, Zoro knew full well that you would do anything for a cook.

“Dude, look what you have in front of you,” he said instead, pointing over his shoulder at you. You stood with your back to them, playing the new board game he got in town with Chopper.

Sanji looked at you and he had no idea what mosshead was talking about. Robin, who heard everything, joined in. The two of them then explained it to him.

When Sanji finally saw through it, he made you a dinner with everything you liked as an apology and asked you out on a date. You could see in him that he was serious and so you decided to give him one more chance.

Sanji Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #undead sanji #Monster Piece

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babyyblues · 1 year

Text

Rescuer

Request: "Can you please do 21. "Get behind me. Now.? The reader, M/F and Daryl go on a run and they run into the reader's abusive ex. Daryl says #21 as he pushes them behind him. You can figure out how it ends. "

prompt 21: "Get behind me. Now"

Era: Prison (Mid-season 3) no spoilers

Summary: Daryl Dixion finds you all alone, and after learning about your past that reminds him of his childhood, he vows to protect you. So what happens when you run into the one who once made your life a living hell?

Word Count: 3,120

warnings: dv mentions (Slight description of violence), child abuse, twd violence and gore

A/n: OMG ITS HERE!!! I'm really excited to share this as it's my first piece for Daryl, and I hope everyone reading enjoys it. Please feel free to leave feedback and let me know if there's anything I can change to improve my writing!

The day Daryl Dixon first laid his eyes on you, he was sure he was about to watch yet another person get eaten by the undead. You were surrounded, breathing heavily as you did your best to fight off the walkers around you. Exhaustion hit you and you weren’t sure how long you could keep this up. Your eyes widened as a walker lunged at you, ready to feast on the flesh of your dirty shoulder but you breathed a sigh of relief when a bolt shot right through its brain. You let out a grunt as you turned around, shoving your dull knife repeatedly into the head of the last of the small herd, falling to the ground as even more of the smelly walker blood splattered all over your face. You stared down at the massacre, doing your best to catch your breath before looking up at the man who helped save you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice horse from the lack of use.

“You alone?” he asked, stepping toward you making you flinch and take a step back.

“Um y-yeah,” you studdered, nerves raking through your body as your eyes shifted from the crossbow in his arms to his piercing blue eyes. His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he watched your body begin to shake, his presence seemingly making you more nervous than any of the undead did. He watched as your knuckles turned white, hands trembling around the grip of your knife. Stopping in his tracks, he strapped the bow securely behind his back, placing his hands in your vision.

“ ‘M not gonna hurt ya,” he confirmed, “jus’ makin’ sure ‘m safe.” You nodded slowly in understanding, hesitating before releasing the knife.

“We have a camp bout half a mile back, jus’ need to ask you three questions ‘fore you can come.” You nodded again, waiting in silence.

“How many walkers you killed?”

“Lost count,” you murmured.

“How many people have you killed?”

“None,” you shook your head along with your answer, looking back up at the man. He nodded, looking around him before beckoning you to follow him back. After walking for what seemed like forever, your eyes landed on a prison and as ironic as it was you felt immediate relief for the walls and safety that you hoped you come from this building.

Walking into the courtyard, you felt eyes on you causing you to want to shrink into your self and if the man noticed, he didn’t say anything. You walked quickly trying your best to keep up with his long strides, following him as he walked into the building.

“Rick!” he called out, waiting for the man to come around the corner. Your eyes landed on another man, this one a bit taller and leaner, his hair sticking to his neck.

“Found ‘er alone in the woods,” he grumbled, walking away leaving you to cower in front of the man you assumed to be Rick.

“Rick Grimes,” he said holding his hand out for you to shake. You flinched at the sudden action, stumbling backward, your hand flying to grab the knife that sat in your waist, ready to defend yourself if need be.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright,” he held his hands up in surrender, “what’s your name?”

“Y/n, Y/n Y/l/n,” you answered quietly taking a deep yet shaky breath before releasing the weapon.

“Daryl said you were out there alone?” he asked, earning a nod in return.

“This whole time?” You shook your head in response, swallowing hard to find your voice again.

“Got separated from my group not too long ago,” you told him, averting your gaze to the cold floor beneath you. Rick nodded.

“Were you trying to find them?” You shook your head lightly.

“I uh- I was just trying to stay alive.” Rick studied you for a second, the room falling into silence so loud your ears began to ring.

“Well I assume you’ll want a shower and your clothes to be cleaned, I’ll find you something to wear in the meantime and then we can get you something to eat, we have plenty. I’ll have Daryl check in on you and help you get settled in if you want to stay,” he said before leading you through the cell block to the shower area.

“I’ll send someone with the clothes, gotta pump this to get the water going,” he demonstrated the process for you before leaving you alone. You took a minute to look at the space around you before shutting your eyes and taking a long deep breath.

“ ‘Scuse me,” you heard a young girl say gently. Regardless of how low her tone was, you practically jumped out of your skin at the noise.

“Sorry, I’m Beth, I just brought those clothes Rick told you about,” she rambled earning silence in return, “I haven’t been able to find a jacket for ya yet, and the shirt might be big but I’m gonna go look for a jacket for you.”

As she hurried off, you grabbed the clothing before turning back toward the shower, pulling the makeshift curtain closed, you felt the familiar sting of the tears that sat behind your eyes as you carefully stripped out of your clothing, stepping underneath the stream of lukewarm water. A hiss escaped your lips as you made your best attempt to scrub clean not only the dirt and grime that seemed to be embedded in your pores but the marks that seemed to never go away. Tears were now steadily mixing with the water, and you turned around to start the nasty and undoubtedly tiring work on your hair that had been matted to your head.

After finishing, you slipped on the clothes Rick had promised, ironically folding the dirty clothes into a neat pile before exiting the shower areas. Daryl was sitting at the table, looking up when he heard footsteps emerge.

“Took ya long enough-” his words died down on his tongue immediately as his eyes trailed across your figure. He took in the sight, a thin tee shirt hanging off your malnourished frame, deep spots of black and blue riddling the entirety of your upper body, the most gruesome being the taunting handprints that stained your throat. You looked back down, unwilling and unable to catch the piercing gaze of the man before you.

Daryl’s breathing immediately caught in his throat, he knew these weren’t normal walker dents and bruises that people are accustomed to these days. How could he not know? He knew what it was like to be beaten on by the one who swore to love you. How you were unable to leave a situation that was literally killing you. And maybe this is why Daryl had such a soft spot for you, and why this stranger, whom he didn’t know the name of, caused a sea of red to flash across his vision. His jaw clenched as he made quick work of unbuttoning the top layer of his button-ups, to hand it to you.

“Here,” he mumbled, reaching his shirt out to you, “might freeze out there.” Looking up at him slowly, you bit the inside of your cheek before grabbing the shirt, covering up your shame.

“Thank you,” you whispered yet again.

“Come on, we’ll get you settled in,” he said nodding up the stairs, intending to put you in the cell directly next to him.

You weren’t sure how much time had passed, not enough for all of your bruises to fade or the nightmares to go away, and you honestly weren’t sure how you had worked your way to be as close with the front runners as you were. You had proved your strengths over and over again, going on runs with Daryl and helping out with tasks other than laundry and basic cleaning. You knew how to protect yourself, and as the trust built between you and the ones who surrounded you, you knew how important it was to protect them as well.

You weren’t much of a talker, however, they felt as if they knew enough to trust you with the more important duties such as fench work and watch. You laid your blanket onto the chilled ground of the watch tower, preparing to start your shift. As you sat, you took a deep breath, thankful for the people around you, the security the walls held, and the brief time alone you had. It hadn’t been long before you heard the door open, but you didn’t need to turn your head to see who it was. It was always Daryl, the man who you undoubtedly grew the closest to, and the one who by far knew the most about you. You shifted over slightly, giving him plenty of space to sit beside you on the blanket so you could both watch out over the fields of the prison.

“Just checkin’ in,” he mumbled as he took a seat, careful not to make any sudden movements in your presence.

“I haven’t seen anything, just the walkers on the fence-”

“On you, I mean,” he admitted quietly. Your breath caught in your throat, your teeth immediately making their way to the inside of your cheek.

“ 'M fine,” you answered, earning a grunt in response. He turned toward you, catching your gaze before softening his features. He reached out to your shoulder, his aim for the same button-up he had given you. When you flinched, he retracted his hand quickly.

“Sorry,” he swallowed, “Jus’ tryna’ make sure you’re healin’. Can I?” Your breath was unstable, but you nodded closing your eyes tightly as he reached again for the button-up, this time lowering it just enough to take a look at the bruises that were across your arms.

“Turnin’ yellow, should be gone soon,” he mumbled, taking his time to get closer and observe the ones on your neck, “this one’s gettin’ there, kinda blue.” He replaced the fabric onto your shoulder, returning to his original position.

“My dad used to beat on me, I know what that looks like,” he confided in you, looking at you again, watching the way your eyes glazed over, tears threatening to spill. You sniffled, pulling your knees to your chest.

“It was my boyfriend,” you whispered, the volume of your voice quickly leaving with the strong gust of wind that flew through the air. If Daryl didn’t still have his eyes on you, he might have missed it.

“I was so stupid.” You let your head fall to your knees, the tears falling with it as your body began to tremble.

“Don’t say that, ‘s not your fault.” You shook your head with a harsh swallow trying the calm the sharp pain you began to feel in the back of your throat.

“No, n-no. I should have known better,” you mumbled. Daryl bit his lip and his tongue, fighting the anger that rose up in his body toward the one who did this to you.

“Used to watch my dad beat my mom, guess towards the end of it I just thought it was normal then,” you spoke, your heartbeat picking up, an anxious turn in your stomach.

“So when I met Max, I was young, and he was nice. He was so nice, and he loved me. I swear he did, and then it was small at first. He started getting mad about everything when I went out with my friends or was on the phone with my mom. Fight got so bad he backhanded me-”

“Y/n you don’t have to-” your head snapped to his, your wild eyes making contact with him for the first time you met.

“He was sorry! He was!” you snapped, nodding your head crazily. You stood up, your balance questionable as hot tears ran down your flaming cheeks. Daryl got up too, ensuring that you weren’t going to fall out of the watch tower.

“He said he was sorry,” you told Daryl again before collapsing back onto the ground in a wave of sobs. Without thinking, Daryl immediately dropped with you, pulling you into his grasp as you cried providing you with the comfort he could have only dreamed of for his younger self. You let yourself fall into Daryl’s chest, grasping at his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself.

Daryl sniffled from above you, biting his lip enough to taste a metallic bite on his tongue, willing himself from the tears that threatened to fall.

This was the turning point in your relationship with Daryl. You found it so easy to confide in him, you knew he understood you and he was always willing to listen. It was uncommon to find a moment where you and Daryl were separated in fact, oftentimes spending the night in each other's cells, taking watch together, and going on runs. Months passed, and your feeling for Daryl easily grew as he showed you how a man should really treat you.

It started slow, the faint passing touches, then the longer more lingering ones. The distance that began to close when you sat next to each other, the eye contact you held with each other, talking about meaningless things. The flowers he brought back from hunts, and the eventual switching from bunkbeds to just the one. Forehead kisses turned to cheek kisses, soon turned to sweet kisses that would forever be embedded on your lips and in your memories.

It was yours and Daryl’s turn to go on a supply run, the plan to go out just a bit further in the hopes the area wasn’t completely picked clean. Waiting for Daryl, you leaned against his bike, looking out into the sea of people throughout the courtyard. You heard his name before you saw him, people greeting him while on his way to you. A smile pulled at the corner of your lips as he approached you.

“Morning,” he grumbled, unable to stop his smile in return to yours.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. How’d you sleep?”

“All that snorin’ of yours, I barely shut an eye,” he teased earning a light shove to his shoulder. He chuckled lightly, his hand falling to your hip.

“Didn’t seem to complain when I woke up with you practically on top of me,” you quipped back, standing up fully to meet the smirk on his lips. He scoffed with a roll of his eyes before leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Come on, sunshine,” squeezing your hip before hopping on his bike. You got on behind him, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped around his torso.

“‘Right let’s go, be careful,” he reminded you. You nodded in response, reaching for your knife. You approached the first building, an old convenient store, knocking on the glass like Daryl had taught you. He glanced at you, before nodding and watching your back as you entered the door. You replaced the knife with your gun, making quick work to clear the building as Daryl followed you from behind. Your footsteps slowed as you heard a rummaging sound, Daryl catching up to you and placing his hand on your shoulder.

“Get behind me. Now,” he mumbled, raising his crossbow before making his way toward the sound. Following him closely, your eyes landed on a familiar form as the man shoved things into the backpack that was in front of him.

“Put ‘yer hands up, and drop all of your weapons,” Daryl growled, his crossbow aimed right at his head.

“Woah, woah, hey now,” the guy spoke, his hands tossing his knife away. The sound of his voice sent immediate chills down your spine, Your breath hitching as he turned to face you.

“Y/n?” he asked, taking a step toward you. You instinctively flinched, your hand gripping tightly on your gun as you took a step back. Daryl stepped towards him, his gaze unfaltering, and his crossbow coming close to his face. Max’s hands raised higher.

“Hey man, take it easy. That’s my girlfriend-”

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t put one of these arrows through your skull,” Daryl confronted him.

“Daryl-”

“Y/n tell him-”

“Oh, she told me plenty. Told me all about how you couldn’t keep your hands off of her. How you’re a disgusting piece of shit.” Max ignored Daryl, looking your way before snickering.

“What is this? You got yourself some kind of bodyguard? How pathetic. You lost me and like the whore you are you go and find yourself this redneck to take care of you-” he was cut off by Daryl’s crossbow dropping to the ground and his shirt being grabbed as he was forced against the wall with a thud. Daryl didn’t hesitate before, landing hard blows to his face, Max using all his strength to push Daryl away and tackle him to the ground to retaliate.

You were frozen in fear, swallowing the tears that threatened to fall. Your hand shook around your gun as you watched Daryl regain control.

“Daryl stop!” you yelled, your voice wavering. He pinned Max down, watching a bloody smile look back up at him.

“Fightin’ over her, and for what? She’s nothing but a waste of space and energy- nothin’ without a man to tell her what to do and when to do it-” Daryl saw nothing but red but before moving he heard a gunshot ring out, Max falling limp in his grip as blood poured from his head. Daryl looked back at your trembling form, the gun in your hands still pointed at Max. Your eyes were glazed over as you watched Max’s life fade away.

Daryl made his way toward you, grabbing the gun from your hand and letting it drop to the ground before pulling you into his arms. You tucked your head into his neck, the sobs releasing from your mouth as Daryl’s hand gripped your body tightly.

“Y/n, hey, look at me,” he whispered. You shook your head, his shirt tight in your grip.

“Come on sunshine, show me those pretty eyes,” he spoke lowly, separating himself from you enough to lead your chin up to look at him.

“You did what you had to do.”

“But I-“

“No buts, you did what needed to be done. ‘M proud of you,” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. You sniffled with a forced nod briefly looking over again at Max’s body before looking back at Daryl who had his hand open for yours. Picking up your weapons and stuff you deemed necessary, you made your way back to the prison, back to your home, with the person who mattered most.

#daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixion x reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fluff #the walking dead fic #the walking dead angst #the walking dead #the walking dead imagine #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixion imagine #daryl dixon fic

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al-911 · 5 months

Text

This post is an idea I've had floating around for a while. Those that know me know I'm into the idea of dungeons and torture chambers, the kind full of different devices. So I thought why not collate all my devilish device designs in one place, a bit like my quite popular immobility post.

I'll add to this post as ideas pop into my head, or I improve an existing one. One day with enough money, I'll even build them (a guy can dream).

A word on atmosphere: the room should be dimly lit, with spot lighting to reveal and emphasise each torture device. Lees should only enter the room bound and stripped, to enforce a feeling of captivity. An ideal entry would be strapped horizontal to a gurney, limiting their initial ability to see the devices as they can only turn their head so far, or see suspension devices on the ceiling.

1) The Tough Girl: Picture yourself kneeling. Now imagine leaning forward onto a massage table at about 45 degrees from horizontal. Now imagine your feet brought up to a similar angle behind you, resting on a padded part so your body forms a shape like a tick ✅️

This foot rest will be contoured to accept the Lee's feet to present their soles at a relaxed enough angle that their toes can be pulled back and restrained quite tightly. Ankles will be restrained in a small custom restraint resembling stocks, but again contoured to hold their feet from almost the very start of the heel end of their soles, up to the start of their calves.

Working upwards, with the option of mummifying the lee (for reasons which will become apparent as we fully explain the device), there will be combination strap-cuffs to hold together and pull down the legs above and below the knees, and at the thighs.

We move now to the upper body. The angled massage table will extend from just above the hips, to the face (the kind with a hole for your face). The torso will be strapped down securely, with the Lee's genitals exposed below the padded section. Their arms can be positioned in multiple places: at their sides, behind their back connected to a winch, for cranking their wrists higher behind them, or crossed just ahead of their forehead, restrained at the wrists and biceps. The multiple positions allow for changing positions as the lee tires, particularly from the hands-behind position.

The head will be tightly restrained in the "viewport", forcing them to stare at the screen in front of them which can be made to show either intense tickle videos or a live feed of their own torment (I'd favour a top down view of their soles). The view could also be swapped to a physical view of another lee in a duplicate of the device, so that they can watch some soles being tortured before their turn... or have soles forced into their face, if we're being even kinkier.

This device exposes almost all of a naked Lee: soles skyward, the backs and sides of the legs open to torment, and with variation of the arm positions, their back and sides. There could also be cutouts to access the belly and nipples, and of course their head is firmly restrained for precise, intense ear neck and scalp tortures.

There is full access for forced orgasms and edging, and the lee being literally on their knees may have a psychological effect on their submission. The device elicits simultaneous feelings of hogties, face down tortures, and when the arms are elevated behind by the winch, a little suspension.

2) The Arch: Quite simple really. A gently arched bench lined with straps (imagine more. No, a lot more!). A naked Lee is draped over it, wrists and ankles bound and linked to winches. Gently stretch them, strap down the wrists and ankles, and then the many other straps until satisfied, head to toe. With a mirror above, the taut and exposed lee is now ready for their torture, hips pushed forward to accept any orgasms you wish to impose upon them with a dangling Hitachi.

3) The Shower: There are in fact, two showers. One for Lees to be cleaned in, and one for the ler to use. The Lee gets to lie fave down or face up on a bench, strapped down ready to be washed and scrubbed (torturously). Their feet are locked in stocks in the wall between the showers.

While cooling down between sessions, and after scrubbing the lee clean, the ler can take a refreshing shower, with some feet to enjoy as they go. Myself, I'd have the lee face down so I can enjoy their sole bowl, using the soapy lather for a foot job as I relax in the luxury shower...

The Super Deluxe edition of the shower would have stocks for many Lees, so I can worship a set of soles while I tickle another and have fun with a third...

4) The Pit: A dark pit, which you are lowered into while strapped to a frame. So dark you aren't sure your eyes are open. A door closes over you once you're inside.

Time passes. Your eyes do not adjust, it is total darkness... except for me. With night vision goggles (with an infrared light source, yes I know they don't work without some form of light) I can see you perfectly. And torture you from the shadows you are surrounded by.

Another variant would be to be lowered, legs wide, directly onto a feather wheel, only knowing it is there at the bottom when it touches between your legs. The echoing laughter and moans can echo back up form the pit to psychologically torture the other prisoners.

#tickling #tickletorture #ticklish #tickles #tickle kink #tied up #soles #feet #tickle #mummified #stocks #dungeon #ongoing

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alessiathepirate · 6 months

Text

Until Dawn

A SMALL JOY: Josh Washington x fem!reader

Summary: Taking Dr Hill's advice, Josh and his lover go up to the lodge and look through all the things his sisters had left behind - after an interesting find she does her best to take his mind off the sadness he's experiencing.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

To be honest, Until Dawn is still one of my favourite horror games. Thanks to the game I found my favourite YouTube channel, my English improved a lot because I wanted to understand every word, and I have a huge crush on Rami Malek to this very day. Me and my friends were obsessed with him the time the game came out, and soon started to watch more of his work together.

Josh Washington was one of my first fictional crushes, I could defend him for years without getting tired and I drew him so many times I actually learned how to draw portraits correctly.

There's a gameplay I like to rewatch every year, because of the great memories I have connected to it. I always fall in love with Josh Washington once again - and thanks to that tradition, I started to write for him as well.

Warnings: a bit of swearing, mentioned depression and loss, mentioning the Washington sisters' disappearance and/or death

•••

° "(...) We would come up in the summer and we would have the best time. The whole family was there - mom, dad, my sisters. It was some serious competition out there on the big lawn... I don't know. Can't go back. New reality." °

She listens carefully, noticing every little pitch or drop in Josh's voice as he speaks - and as he puts down the baseball bat all she can think about is grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, a tight one, the kind that is both loving and comforting. She watches him, she examines his every little move and her heart aches every single time she finds a new sign of sadness.

She hates it.

She hates that look on his face. She hates that change in his voice. She hates that he feels alone. She hates that the whole case is making him go crazy. She hates that nothing is certain and he can't even grieve.

She hates that he had to change so much; that he had to become this depressed because of some stupid, messed up prank their friends had decided to pull on his sister.

He didn't deserve any of it. He doesn't deserve any of it. None of the Washington kids do.

Coming up here was already hard - back to the mountain where Hannah and Beth disappeared, where they played around like stupid teenagers do. Dr Hill said it's for the best - Josh needs some closure, some proof that he needs to slowly start to move on. She thinks it's bullshit - Josh thinks so too. It won't be easy to put yourself through something like this.

But regardless, they came. They are here now, looking through the rooms, the basement...

The memories are hurting her - and if she as a friend is hurting this badly than Josh must suffer a lot.

"Teach me." the words suddenly burst out before she can stop them, wanting to make Josh concentrate on something else - not wanting him to get lost in his own mind.

"What?" the question is loud in the basement.

"Teach me how to play." she continues on, feeling unsure like she tries to cross a very thin and sensitive line. "I've never played baseball before."

"It's been a while since I did so." Josh starts to explain, his gaze falling on the bat he put down. "You really- want to?"

She steps closer to him slowly, carefully, as if she tries to get close to a very scared and wounded animal. She touches his arm, her fingers hold him as her thumb brushes along his skin in an up and down motion. She leans towards him, her face touching his shoulder as she presses a kiss to the area what isn't covered by his t-shirt.

"You don't have to if you don't want to." she whispers. "I know it's not-" she holds that thought and says something else instead: "I just haven't seen you play yet and I want to join in."

Josh looks at her over his shoulder, he looks at her as she tries to smile even if her eyes stay sad. He watches her like she's the only thing he has left, like she's the only person who matters anymore. He looks at her and feels something break inside, realizing that she really is the only one who he has.

"All right." he says and when he sees her eyes change a tiny bit - showing a bit of happiness - he feels his heart flutter. It makes him feel better, it makes him want to touch her too, putting his hand over hers - over the one which is still clinging onto his arm. "As long as you promise me you won't accidentally hit yourself with the bat."

And there's what he wanted to see - her expression changes, playful offence takes the sadness' place and she gently hits his back.

"Hey! I wouldn't do that."

"You totally wouldn't." his sarcasm earns him another punch and despite the situation and the place, he feels like he got something back.

The last time they bickered like this was half a year ago, the night his sisters had disappeared. They drank and played around until they started to make out in the kitchen, only stopping when Chris stepped inside the room wanting some booze for himself.

As they climb the stairs hand in hand they both feel somewhat relieved. They found a kind of small joy, a bit of happiness - something what they had left here months ago. Josh chuckles when she trips and almost falls, she feels excited as he hands her the baseball bat outside.

"Since there're only the two of us here, I think it's best I teach you how to hit the ball and not yourself."

"I'm not that clumsy Mister!" she tries to sound offended, but it doesn't work.

"I know you too well, girl; and I don't trust you with that at all."

Josh stands behind her, keeping a gentle hold on both of her arms as he explains how to stand and how to hold the bat. She chuckles when he playfully tickles her and this time she doesn't feel guilty about laughing. Before he lets go of her to throw the ball, he gives her a short hug and presses a kiss into the crook of her neck.

She misses the first time...

and the second time; and the third time...

She misses and Josh laughs and she thinks it's the most beautiful sight she's ever seen.

They change positions after a while and no matter how she throws, Josh never misses - not even once. He hits the ball every single time and it flies and lands far away.

She has the feeling that in that very moment, doing that very thing they both feel somewhat complete. She feels like Josh's smiles are honest, his laughs are honest and she forgets about Dr Hill and his stupid advice.

"No shit you like to play it." she says after a while as the both of them are lying in the grass, her head resting on Josh's arm. "It is fun."

"Believe me darling, it is much more fun when you actually hit the ball." his voice has a teasing edge to it and for a moment she thinks about turning towards him and hitting him playfully once again - but she doesn't.

Instead - hoping to get something more, trying to get a kind of good change out of him, she says: "I will, after a bit more training. You'll teach me, I have no doubt about that."

Josh turns towards her, gently touching her face and playing with her hair. She tries to read his face and she realizes that he understands what she's playing at. She wonders if he'll get upset or sad... but she gets an answer pretty quickly.

"I will - of course I will. You'll be the best player in this damn country."

The muscles in her face twitch and she feels like she'll cry. It's been so long, so long since Josh smiled and laughed that now seeing it again feels like a whole new experience. She doesn't want to leave the place or the moment. It's too nice.

"Better than you?"

"Way better." he promises and lets go of the lock of hair he's been playing with. "I love you, you know that, right?"

She feels frozen at the question and starts to wonder where it's coming from. The doubt in his voice, the softness in his eyes... He deserves the world, he deserves everything in it and he deserves to know that he does enough for her - she feels his love and every single emotion and action it causes.

"Of course I do... I know." she promises. "I love you too. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

It's her turn to lean in and she kisses him, making sure the kiss is soft and calm. She wants to make him feel whole and safe. She wants him to be happy.

They lay back down and stay quiet for a bit, enjoying the sunlight and the light summer breeze. She feels like she could melt. Melt into the feeling and moment forever, without ever getting bored.

"You know," Josh starts suddenly, his voice soft and unsure. "it's been a while since I've taken you out on a date."

"It's fine, Josh. These past months weren't exactly the best."

"No... I know." for a few moments he stays silent, not knowing what to say. "All I want to say is I have a few movies here we can watch and we can have a nice time before we-"

"-go back to them." she finishes, understanding what he means.

Them. All the friends, all the family members and pals who show an annoying amount of pity. All of those people who try to comfort Josh when doesn't want to do anything with them. The people who make him feel worse than better.

"I'd love that." she smiles at him as he turns towards him and hugs him. "But no horror."

"No horror." Josh nods.

It wouldn't be good for either of them.

She kisses his shoulder as they get going, stretching their muscles, before climbing the stairs to go and find the movies Josh was talking about.

As they look over his DVDs while hugging, all she can think about is how unfair life is, because Josh doesn't deserve any of the problems life threw at him...

#until dawn #until dawn x reader #josh washington #josh washington x reader #josh washington x fem!reader #hannah washington #beth washington

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