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#always wanted to make one of those memes myself
pixelatedraindrops · 18 days
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Yuma Month: Day 9: Love
I think that he forgot his love identity too… 💓💦
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camptw1nk · 1 year
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I wish tumblr was. Easier
#it just feels very. hard to kinda get things going sometimes#mostly its pretty easy on kurt but i can not emphasize enough that my other blogs are not inactive bc i dont want to do things#i log on to every blog i have every day and i try to reach out to people but. really only a small handful interact#and that handful follows me everywhere and is always trying and thats very nice!! i appreciate it a LOT!!!#but when a blog is at over 100 followers and u struggle to get more than 5 people to talk to you its. discouraging#esp bc so many people will also just. not read a single thing ab ur muse#there are people who have approached me who didn't know jason had powers. when that is. plastered everywhere#and that also happened when he had the url expheiriment and his graphics were entirely fire themed#like idk i have so many muses that i love and i try so hard with but no ones as excited as i am#and thats fine i dont expect them to get excited ab every muse its just. idk it feels like so much work to go on my other blogs#bc i show up and try to get interactions and a couple people send memes in but those memes wont always lead to more#i keep going to multimuse blogs so that i dont. have so many blogs that are ignored and i can tell myself im active and people care but#its usually only the same handful of muses that people care about#so ill make a solo blog for a passion muse but they're not one of the ones people were there for so it goes nowhere#idk im just. im very tired of tumblr but i dont want to leave you know#i just. idk i want to feel more like this is a fun little hobby and i can enjoy it but i dont. know how to do that#negative cw
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The Interview | Lando Norris⁴
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Pairings: Lando Norris x bsf!reader
Warnings: smut
Requested: yes
A/N: My first time writing bsf!Lando yay!!! This was a pain in the ass to edit and as twice to write. I wanted to burn it at least six times in the process, but I finally won that war and here we are. I don't hate it, but don't necessarily like it either, but I hope that's only because I read it like 945437 times and already know every sentence by heart 💀 and that you will actually enjoy it <3
Interviewing your best friend, how hard could it actually be? As you sat across from Lando Norris in the cozy McLaren hospitality, you realized that interviewing him was proving to be much more challenging than you had anticipated. Especially when he was looking like that.
Sweats and hoodies were his all time go to whenever he was at home, and you have seen him wearing it numerous times. But that morning when he came to pick you up from your hotel room, you didn’t expect that exact outfit to be the one to leave you stunned.
As you tried to ignore how effortlessly good he looked, in white sweatpants and a light grey jumper that showcased his lean physique, and curls of his hair falling in just the right way over his forehead, you cleared your throat and focused on the notes in front of you. But as Lando flashed you a charming smile and leaned back in his chair, all thoughts of the interview questions went out the window.
“So, what do you want to know that you already don’t?” Lando asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"So, Lando," you began, trying to keep your voice steady, "what do you think sets McLaren apart from the other teams on the grid this season?"
"I think what really sets us apart is our team spirit," he replied. "We have an incredible group of people working together towards a common goal, and that camaraderie is something special." Lando flashed you yet another one of his charming smiles.
His words were filled with passion, and it was impossible not to be captivated by the way his voice drew you in. Despite being your best friend, there was something different about seeing him in his element, fully immersed in his love for the sport.
"It's no secret that you have a huge following on social media," you continued, steering the conversation towards a lighter topic. "How do you handle the pressure of always being under the spotlight?"
Lando chuckled softly before replying, "Oh, you know, I just try to be myself and have fun with it. The fans are amazing, and I'm grateful for all their support. Plus, it helps that my memes game is strong," he added with a wink.
"You definitely have some iconic meme moments," you agreed with a laugh, feeling more at ease now that the conversation had shifted to something more familiar. But beneath the banter and playful exchanges, you couldn't shake off the nagging feeling that there was something Lando wasn't telling you.
Throughout the interview, you noticed subtle shifts in Lando's demeanor whenever certain topics came up. His jokes became more frequent, his sarcasm sharper, as if he was intentionally deflecting your inquiries. You made a mental note to revisit those moments later, but for now, you decided to go with the flow and enjoy the time with your best friend.
Leaning forward, you fixed him with a steady gaze and said, "Let's talk some more about you. It’s the beginning of a new season and fans are eager to know what your goals are for the upcoming races. Can you share with us what you hope to achieve this year?"
For a moment, there was a flicker of seriousness in his eyes before he smirked and replied, "I hope to give all the other drivers a head start, just to make things interesting," Lando quipped with a mischievous grin.
You chuckled at his response, recognizing the familiar playful tone he always carried. But beneath the humor, you sensed a hint of determination in his eyes. Pushing further, you pressed on, "Come on, Lando. We all know you're not one to settle for anything less than the best. What are your real aspirations for this season?"
“You already know what my aspirations are, y/n. Can’t you just make something up?”
“Of course I can’t. What if I put together a statement and then you tell a different version of events to another journalist?”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head at your persistence. “And what makes you think I wouldn’t lie to them? Other reporters aren’t my friends so I think it’s actually you who’s in advantage here.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you shot back, "Oh, so now I'm the lucky one getting the inside scoop, huh? Well alright, if you’re already so tired of answering my questions, how about we take a break and take some pictures for the article? I also heard you got a new helmet you’ll be wearing for testing as a tribute to Gil de Ferán, right? Let's capture that moment."
Lando's eyes lit up with enthusiasm at the mention of his new helmet design. He eagerly agreed, and the two of you made your way to the McLaren garage where his helmet awaited. As he carefully lifted it up, you couldn't help but admire the intricate details and the thoughtful tribute to the racing legend. Lando slipped it on with a sense of pride, and you couldn't resist snapping a few photos of him posing confidently in front of his car.
“Let’s go out to the track and have some shots of you and the helmet there. You could sit on the pit wall and hold it in your lap while admiring it,” you suggested, already envisioning the striking images that would accompany your article. Lando flashed you a grateful smile, appreciating your creativity and dedication to capturing the essence of his racing journey.
Lando perched on the pit wall, his expression a mix of focus and determination as he cradled the helmet in his hands. The vibrant colors of the design shone brightly against the backdrop of the racing circuit, a visual representation of Lando's respect for the sport's history and his aspirations for the future.
You snapped photo after photo, each frame telling a story of passion, ambition, and unwavering dedication.
“You’re choosing some interesting angles,” Lando teased as you were crouching down to get a shot from a lower perspective.
You couldn't help but smile at his lighthearted comment, your cheeks flushing with a warmth that had nothing to do with the scorching sun beating down on the track. Lando's voice had a way of enveloping you, drawing you in like a magnet and as you adjusted your position to capture another shot, your eyes inadvertently lingered on his hands, noticing the way his fingers traced the curves of the helmet with a gentle reverence.
You always thought Lando had beautiful hands, but in that very moment you couldn’t help but think what it would be like if those hands touched you. Really touched you.
The professional journalist in you was focused on capturing the perfect shots and telling Lando's story through the lens of your camera. But the other part of you, the part that had known Lando for years and cherished his friendship above all else, was struggling to keep up with the sudden surge of desires and thoughts that threatened to unravel your composure.
Lando's easy laughter and playful banter did little to ease the tension building within you. With each click of the camera, his presence seemed to grow more magnetic, his features more captivating. You couldn't deny the allure of his smile, the intensity in his gaze, or the way his energy seemed to envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.
While you reviewed the photos on your camera, Lando leaned in closer to get a glimpse as well. The heat of his body so near sent a shiver down your spine, and you hastily cleared your throat, trying to dispel the sudden rush of emotions coursing through you. But Lando was oblivious to your inner turmoil, his attention fully focused on the images displayed on the screen.
"These look amazing, y/n," he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with genuine excitement.
"Thank you, Lando," you managed to reply, your voice sounding slightly breathless even to your own ears. Clearing your throat once more, you added, "We should head back. You still owe me some answers.”
As you walked back towards the McLaren hospitality unit, Lando slung an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a playful headlock. "You know, y/n, for someone who claims to be a professional interviewer, you're not half bad as a photographer either," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
You chuckled, swatting his arm away with mock indignation. "Hey now, don't let my talents overshadow your own star power. I'm just here to make sure the world sees the real Lando Norris in all his glory, on and off the track," you quipped back with a grin, the easy banter between you a testament to the years of friendship that had only grown stronger through the shared journey in the fast-paced world of Formula 1.
As you reached the hospitality unit, Lando released you from the headlock and held the door open with a flourish. "After you, madam photographer," he said with a mock bow, his eyes dancing with a mischievous gleam.
You both entered the bustling hospitality area, filled with team members preparing for the upcoming race weekend. The familiar sights and sounds enveloped you, a comforting blend of adrenaline and excitement that always accompanied a race day.
The familiar faces of the McLaren team greeted you warmly, their camaraderie palpable in every interaction. Lando's presence only added to the vibrant ambiance, his infectious laughter drawing others to join in.
Taking a seat at one of the tables, you watched as Lando engaged in animated conversations with his teammates, his passion for racing evident in every gesture and expression. It was moments like these that reminded you why you were drawn to motorsport in the first place—the sense of community, the thrill of competition, and the shared pursuit of excellence.
“Sorry for leaving you like that,” Lando said, sliding into the seat across from you, “but duty calls. It’s time to jump in the car. We can finish the interview later tonight, if that’s alright?”
"Of course, go do your thing out there on the track. We'll pick up where we left off," you replied, giving him an encouraging smile.
You stayed for a while, watching him drive and snapping a few more photos of his swift maneuvers on the track, each turn and acceleration a testament to his skill behind the wheel. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the circuit as the day drew to a close and you decided to go back to the hotel and edit the material you’ve gathered so far.
Having spent the whole day on track in the glowing sun, you first took a shower and got more comfortable in your pajama shorts and loose top before settling down at the small desk in your hotel room. The soft glow of the lamp bathed the room in a warm light as you organized your notes and sifted through the photos from today's shoot. Lando's vibrant energy leapt off the screen, each image a kaleidoscope of emotions and determination captured in still frames.
Lost in thought, you were startled by a knock on the door. Puzzled, you made your way over and peered through the peephole to see Lando standing outside, a sheepish grin on his face. And he was back in that damn outfit from before.
Despite the late hour, you couldn't suppress a smile at the sight of Lando standing at your door, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. Opening the door, you raised an eyebrow in mock admonishment.
“Look who decided to show up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me,” you quipped, stepping aside to let him in.
“Never,” he replied with a grin, making himself at home in your hotel room. “Besides, I thought we could finish that interview now that I'm all fresh and ready to spill some secrets," you couldn't help but notice the way he moved with an easy familiarity, as if he had been in this space countless times before. “Oh, sorry, were you getting ready for bed?” he asked, as if only now noticing your comfortable attire, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than necessary, before innocently looking you in the eyes with a small smile.
Ignoring the flutter in your chest at his gaze, you shook your head with a chuckle.
“Not at all, I was actually working. You should see your helmet shots on a big screen. They turned out to be amazing.” you gestured as you took a seat at your laptop to show him.
Lando leaned over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck as he peered at the screen. You couldn't help but notice the closeness between you, the shared intimacy of the moment sending a chill down your back.
“Wow, these look incredible,” Lando breathed, his voice low with awe. ”You really have an eye for capturing the moment.”
His praise sent a flush of warmth to your cheeks, a mixture of pride and something else you couldn't quite name. As you scrolled through the images together, Lando's hand brushed yours accidentally, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.
Clearing your throat and trying to ignore the nervous flutters, you turned to face him. "So, about those secrets you promised to spill..."
Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously as he settled into the armchair beside you, his gaze intense as he studied your face. For a moment, there was a weighty silence that hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unexplored emotions. You could sense a shift in the air, as if the room itself held its breath in anticipation of what he might reveal.
Finally, breaking the tension with a casual shrug, Lando chuckled softly. "Alright, alright. What do you want to know?" he asked playfully, though there was a glint of vulnerability in his eyes that you couldn't ignore.
Seeing him sit there casually in that armchair and in those sweatpants with legs spread lightly made your breath a little quicker. Taking a deep breath and clearing your throat, you busied yourself with your notebook to keep you from looking at him. “So,” you started, flipping through pages. “We have a few unanswered questions left...”
You couldn’t help but feel a rush of nerves at his intense stare, and you mechanically placed a hand on the back of your neck, stretching it out slightly. Lando's gaze followed the movement, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch your hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The simple gesture sent a shockwave of warmth through you, the soft brush of his touch awakening a hunger you tried to suppress the whole day.
“Nervous?” he asked, his tone low.
You chuckled, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “Why would I be nervous? It’s not my first time conducting an interview.”
Lando's gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your heart race. "Maybe it's not the interview that's making you nervous," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. The air between you crackled with tension, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the room as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.
Your mind raced with a million thoughts, emotions swirling within you as you met his gaze, feeling as though you were on the precipice of something unknown yet undeniably thrilling. In that moment, all the barriers you had carefully constructed around your heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability you had long kept hidden.
“I noticed the way you were looking at me out on the track today,” Lando murmured, his voice husky with unspoken desire. “It wasn't just the photographer's gaze anymore, was it?” His hand lingered on yours, a silent question hanging in the air. “Especially when you crouched down to get those low angle shots of the helmet. I could feel your eyes on me longer than necessary. You didn’t do it because you wanted to capture the shot perfectly, did you?” he continued, his gaze searching yours for any sign of confirmation. “No, you did it because you wanted to be on your knees for me, to be close to me, to feel the heat of my body as you snapped away at your camera. Admit it,” Lando's voice was a whisper, causing a flurry of emotions to swirl inside you.
His words were like a sharp blade, slicing through the air and laying bare a hidden longing that had been bubbling beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged. You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of what he had just said settling in the space between you.
“Even this, you inviting me into your dimly lit room—”
“I don’t like big lights,” you interjected, as you tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation.
But he continued as if you hadn't said anything. “—in your silky pajama shorts and that flimsy tank top that leaves little to the imagination,” Lando said, his voice dropping even lower as he leaned closer, his gaze smoldering.
“I was getting myself comfortable—”
“Of course, you’re smart and already have a reason for everything I point out,” Lando's gaze softened at your words, a flicker of understanding passing between you as he reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The tenderness of his touch sent a wave of sensation to travel down your spine, reigniting the fiery connection between you. “But I am your best friend, and I know you. You can try as much as you want, but you can’t hide the truth from me,” Lando murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek as he leaned in, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I know you inside out.”
His words hung in the air, the tension between you palpable as you both teetered on the edge of something unspoken yet undeniably present. And maybe. Maybe he was right. Intentionally or not, you did know he was coming.
In that charged moment, with your heart pounding in your chest, you made a choice. You took him by the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips together. You pulled him with such force that he stumbled forward, but he quickly found balance by taking a handful of your hair and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss with a hunger that matched your own. The kiss was electric, a surge of raw desire and pent-up emotions finally breaking free. The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in the intoxicating taste of him, the warmth of his lips searing through you like a wildfire.
Every touch, every caress, ignited a blazing need within you, a longing that had been buried for far too long. As you melted into each other, the boundaries that had kept you apart crumbled, leaving only the raw, primal connection that bound your souls together.
As the kiss broke, you both gasped for air, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Lando's eyes bore into yours, a mixture of surprise, craving, and something deeper that stirred within his gaze.
“Is this what you wanted?” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the tense stillness that enveloped you both.
“I wanted to kiss you first, but god, you’d beat me to it,” a low chuckle escaped his lips as he spoke. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, but beneath it lay a raw vulnerability that mirrored your own. In that moment, as you gazed into each other's eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same between you.
You reached out to touch his face, your fingers tracing the contours of his jawline as if committing every detail to memory. The room felt as though it had shrunk, leaving just the two of you in your own intimate world where words were no longer needed.
“Then kiss me,” you breathed.
Lando's lips met yours in a frenzy of passion, each kiss deepening the connection that had ignited between you. His hands dug into your shirt, pulling you closer as if trying to erase any remaining distance between you. You responded with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, a surge of emotions overwhelming your senses.
He picked you up in his arms and carried you to the bed, laying you down gently, your laughter mingling with his in the heated moment. As he joined you on the mattress, his lips trailed down to your neck, your skin tingling at his touch, and you moaned softly as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. A shiver ran through your entire body, and you arched into him, inviting him further.
He took the invitation, his hands exploring every inch of your body, his touch feather light at times, then rougher, aching to leave his mark upon you. Your breath caught in your throat as his fingers traveled over your chest, igniting a wave of heat inside you. Each touch left a trail of fire, intensifying the sensation.
His mouth found its way to your lips again, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you met him eagerly, your tongues twining together in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sound of your breaths mixing, your hearts pounding in sync, as you lost yourself in each other's embrace.
Lando's body pressed against yours, his heat searing through your clothes, making your skin feel like it was sizzling. You could feel his hardness brushing against your core, making you moan softly, yearning for more.
Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer, needing the intimacy that only skin-to-skin contact could provide. His mouth gently moved down the curves of your neck, leaving a tantalizing trail of kisses that sent sparks of exhilaration coursing through your body. You arched your back yet again, wanting more of his touch, more of his attention.
Slowly, he lifted your shirt, revealing your stomach, and you felt a sudden rush of heat between your legs. His eyes locked onto your bare skin, a hunger gleaming in them. You knew he was seeing all of you, every flaw and imperfection that made you, you. But he didn’t care; he wanted you just the way you were.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. You could feel the sincerity in his words, and a wave of vulnerability washed over you. This wasn’t just about the physical attraction; it was about the emotional connection you had built over time.
He kissed your stomach, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. You wanted him closer; you wanted to feel his skin against yours. You reached behind you and tugged off his shirt, revealing his muscular physique that you had always admired.
You pulled him closer, and he kissed you again, his hands wandering to your breasts, tracing the outline of your nipples through your pajama top. You moaned softly, arching your back, wanting more of his touch.
He took off your top, revealing your bare chest, and you shivered at the feeling of his rough hands on your skin. He kissed your torso, his tongue darting out to taste you, and you moaned softly, inviting him to explore more.
He trailed his lips down your stomach, leaving a path of wet kisses that made you tremble with longing. You could feel his breath on your thigh, and you knew what was coming. He traced the edges of your panties, his fingers teasing you, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Lando looked up at you, his eyes filled with craving. He wanted you more than anything, and you knew it. You were his, and he was yours.
You reached down and pulled off his pants–the damn pants that started all this in the first place–revealing his erection that strained against the fabric. Your fingers grazed it, and he moaned softly, his eyes locking with yours. You could see the need in him, and it made your heart race.
You pulled off his pants, revealing his naked body, and you couldn't help but admire him. He was perfect, every inch of him, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for. This was the moment you had been dreaming of, the moment you had been yearning for.
He laid you down gently and continued to explore every inch of your body. His fingers traced the curves of your hips, your waist, your thighs, each touch setting off a firestorm of desire within you. You moaned softly, your body arching towards his, craving his touch.
He slid his fingers between your legs, teasing your most sensitive spot, sending waves of delight coursing through you. You gasped, your breaths becoming shallow as you struggled to control the growing want inside of you.
Lando's eyes locked with yours, a mixture of lust and tenderness shining in them. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, his breath warm and sensual, “You are never to interview any other driver, you hear? You are mine. My best friend, my reporter.”
You laughed softly, the sound mingling with his as he skillfully used his hands to bring you to satisfaction. "I don't know, Lando. What if my boss wants me to do another story? What will I say then?"
“Then you do it somewhere I can see you. And you wrap it up, no inviting other drivers into your hotel room cause look what happens,” he quipped, his fingers moving faster, sending shivers throughout your body.
You gasped for air, your body trembling as you felt the waves of pleasure building up within you. You knew that you were close, that you couldn't hold back any longer. “Lando, please,” you begged, your body aching for release.
Lando's eyes met yours, a fierce intensity in his gaze. He knew what you needed, and he was more than willing to give it to you. With a sudden, forceful thrust, he entered you, filling you completely, sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.
You cried out, your breath hitching as each thrust sent you higher and higher. Lando's pace quickened, his body slamming against yours, each movement a testament of his want for you. The room was filled with the sounds of your intertwined bodies, your hearts beating in sync, lost in the moment.
“You feel so good,” Lando panted, his voice low and rough. He reached up, his hands tugging at your hair, pulling your lips to his in a searing kiss. His tongue plunged into your mouth, tasting you, possessing you.
You wrapped your legs around him, your nails digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him deeper. Your body ached for more, craving the release that only he could give you.
Lando's thrusts became more insistent, his hips pistoning against yours, each movement driving you closer to the edge. Your breath came in short gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as the ecstasy built up inside you. You could feel the heat coursing through your veins, the desire consuming you.
“Lando, oh god, I'm so close,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. Lando responded by increasing his pace, his body slamming into yours, each thrust sending overwhelming bliss throughout your entire body.
You felt the familiar sensation building up within you, the pressure rising, the heat spreading. You knew what was coming, and you welcomed it with open arms. With a loud cry, you arched your back, your body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over you, engulfing you completely. Lando's body followed suit, his thrusts becoming erratic, his voice hoarse as he emptied himself within you, crying out your name.
Your bodies collapsed onto each other, panting heavily, your skin glistening with sweat. You didn't know how long you lay there, lost in each other's embrace, but the moment felt timeless. 
You glanced at him, only to see him sound asleep with a contented smile on his face. You couldn't help but run your fingers lightly through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body and the weight of his head on your chest. But you still had the article to finish and the call from your editor to make.
You gently extracted yourself from his embrace, feeling the cool air on your skin as your body adjusted back to reality. With a tender kiss on his forehead, you whispered, “I'll be right back,” feeling a sense of contentment and a touch of guilt at leaving him there.
You put on a robe and sat down at your desk, using the warm glow of the computer screen to illuminate your face as you typed away, every word bringing you closer to finishing the article. Although he owed some questions to the world, as his best friend you already knew the answers to almost every one. Remembering his words from earlier, you took it to your advantage to finish the article.
As you worked, the memories of the night still fresh in your mind, you couldn't help but recall the way Lando's hands felt on your body, the way his breath grazed your skin, the way his voice whispered husky promises in your ear. It made it hard to concentrate, but you knew you had to be professional.
With the piece finally done, you sent it to your editor, knowing that you had captured the essence of Lando's journey and the excitement surrounding his career. You knew that this was just the beginning of many great things for him, and you couldn't be more proud to have witnessed it firsthand, as his best friend, reporter and maybe something more in the future.
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harfanfare · 3 months
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Idia drabble, fluff, lots of couple banter
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Your wishlist containing released games is empty.
In the next several minutes after saving a title to one, you can expect a notification that the game is getting downloaded, and a mere seconds after that—several messages from your boyfriend.
“thought u would never play it lol”
“weren't you supposed to be studying??”
He sends a meme degrading your hierarchy of values as if he were any better. It is followed by a request.
“stream it to me when you play it”
And you do, after thanking him yet chiding him for wasting too much money on you without a second thought. His reply was a string of emojis and guarantee that he is doing it all for himself, because “educating you on the topic of latest games is his duty” and he cares about “the boyfriend points”.
“I hope my love’o’meter for u was broken by all that pampering lmao”
“waiting for my cg to load up…”
[NAME]: “not enough affection points”
“damn”
“i need a walkthroughyt to this route”
Idia has you join a voice channel, with you sharing your screen. Playing a game in a separate dorm is a whole different experience than having him beside you, with his hands almost trembling to grab your controller if you couldn’t get past a certain level.
He would always wait for you to ask him for help, though. Then he could let the feeling of self-satisfaction sink in as he easily guided your character to another enemy to slash.
If he only has you on the voice chat, you might be able to finish the game almost fully by yourself.
You can hear the soft sound of his keyboard as he plays something as well. He divides his attention between you and his entertainment, and he throws in commentary to your playthrough, teasing you when you can’t find a secret key to the special gate, bullying you when you find the puzzles too hard, or when you pick the wrong dialogue option.
At some point, you might try to (playfully) mute his microphone, but you can only have eight seconds of silence before he hacks into the options.
“No need to be jealous of my gaming knowledge,” he exclaims, and you know he has that big stupid grin on his face. You huff, and he hums. “But if you want me to help, all you need to do is just ask.”
“I want to go through this game myself!”
“Okay, sure. But you know you have already missed the opportunity for the best ending, no?” He laughs. “That’s what you get for muting me, kitten.”
No need to spoil the ending just to get back at me, you’d love to say, but you learned that the shy boy who couldn’t hold your gaze several months ago is actually a big tease. You must’ve grown too much on him, as he would have continued the bickering even if you showed up in his room. No social anxiety towards you—that’s a bit of a shame, he was cute when you first started dating.
…Well, Idia you know now is a cutie as well, even if he can be very annoying sometimes.
“Enough. I’m going to play my otome games, bye.”
You log out, and shut the stream, chuckling all the time. A funny feeling tingled your heart, like always when you won (or have you?) in banter in Idia: your heart is warm enough to probably melt through the ribcage, but a subtle alarm rings in your head. Idia will probably take revenge for this.
He must already be in distress. He doesn’t like you playing otome games alone, as if you could have ever preferred a 2D boy over Idia. The thought makes you laugh.
You plop on your bed, unlocking your phone and tapping an icon of the name game you’ve installed. Although playing it with Idia would have been funnier, you are going to play him just out of spite.
…And after that, you will send him a wall of text about those handsome characters, because he needs to be updated on your current obsessions.
The title screen appears before everything crashes and the screen goes black. Several messages in neon-blue futuristic font colour appear one by one.
An error has occurred.
Caught exception:
Traceback (most recent call last):
File “characters”, line 46, in script
File “stats”, line 153, in script
File “story”, line 665, in script
File “achievements”, line 411, in log.1
File “backup_data”, line 139, in log
To continue:
“[Name]-san. Please come to our dorm. My brother is moping (so he won’t be finishing his project anytime soon, which is, really bad) and I would appreciate you having mercy on him.
Once you come, I will restore your data! It’s a promise :>
— ORTHO”
…Damn those Shrouds.
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calisources · 3 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.
Sentences were taken from different sources of literature that depict dark romance, these include possessive language, jealousy, power trips, some kinks, innuendos. Some sentences are tamer than others, please use wisely. Change names, pronouns and locations as you see fit. This meme is not safe for all audiences, as it contains adult themes.
Cara is mine, and only mine.
You didn’t seem to be in any danger when you were being my good, little girl.
A crush? I had consumed at least three of that woman’s bodily fluids, as she had mine. 
I worship you.
Very, very bad girl.
So you admit it, I make you scream.
See, my sweet gift? I knew you’d f/cking come around.
My beautiful, sweet gift. I am forever lost in you.
Let me heal those wounds and soothe that ache.
I’m gonna fuck you now. It’s gonna be fast and hard because I’ve waited too long for this.
In this fucked up world of ours, we're meant for each other.
I may have broken you, but know that you've broken me just the same.
Let me free you of the constraints of virtue. Better yet, free yourself.
You're supposedly protected by god, but here you are fucking the devil.
Like this you are powerful. Learn what it is to command the attention of a god.
I need you to take me the way you want me.
I hope you never forget about me and that the thought of me haunts you for eternity.
I was born to be your god, born with the power to make you do what I want.
You've captivated my soul and breathe life into me.
No escaping. I told you I'd never let you go.
I am a poison that all of humanity must fear.
You  ruined me and I can’t be bothered about it.
I forgot how good you taste. 
Real men get their girls nice and ready first.
This girl. She’s living, walking art. And she’s mine.
Do you want me on my knees?
You’re a bad man and you do bad things. You will always do bad things. But not to me.
You are painfully beautiful, do you know that?
Every time you look at me, it feels as if you start a wildfire inside my heart
Such a perfect girl you are, put on this world just for me.
I have killed for you, baby. And I’ll never stop.
You forgot I was a siren.
I just wanted to keep you forever.
I have missed you for so long. And now you are in front of me, but you’re afraid to touch me.
 There can never be anything in the world that would hurt me more than when you left me.
I don’t know if I want to cry or if I want to scream or if I want to fucking kiss you.
Christ, I wish you could see yourself. You look otherworldly.
I used to smell your dirty shirts when you weren’t looking.
In order for me to fuck you, I’m going to need you to be healed first.
 How I’ve missed that filthy mouth.
What else did I teach you?
You taught me how to be a good girl for you.
How to let you ravage me so badly that I feel like I’m on the brink of death.
I'm a simple man who's been reduced to his base instincts to hunt, capture, keep.
If she is my devil, then I will gladly burn.
If you don’t protect what belongs to you, then sooner or later, it belongs to someone else.
The power he holds over me―
You like to be owned by me? Knowing that I will kill anyone that ever tries to steal you away?
You want passion. A love that completely devours every inch of you. 
I know that you long for a little danger, too. I saw how you thrived on it.
It only hurts because I want you so much.
 if you could see yourself through my eyes, you’d know why I chose you. 
You taste like sin.
You're doing so good, Handsome.
No one touches what's mine.
And you are mine. Whether you agree is irrelevant.
I caught you, so now I get to ravish you.
Let’s do something about that mouth of yours, hm?
Be my woman, Ana. Allow me to call myself yours.
I want you to know that you can’t hide from me.
Play nicely, little lamb. Or else, I won’t.
I will do with you as I please.
Show me how much you want me.
You haven’t been getting what you need, have you?
Would it make you feel better if I call you Daddy while you fuck me?
You’ll never know when I’m going to drag you into the darkness.
I’m rough with your body sometimes, but I’ll always be gentle with your soul. 
Fucking hell, you’re sweet. You’re so goddamn sweet.
The flesh wants what it wants.
If you continue to behave like this, I'll actually start to believe you don't hate me.
Desire becomes surrender. Surrender becomes Power.
And I will break you. I will make it so you can't breathe without me. 
What happened to the thrill of the chase?
I just like the way wrong feels.
I swear I won't touch you even with a finger until you ask me yourself.
I need to hear a yes, sir.
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gurugirl · 6 months
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The Warning | bfd!harry
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best friend's dad!harry x reader | forbidden relationship
Summary: You and Harry are trying to heal after coming clean to everyone and Mrs. Styles comes to you with a warning.
Word Count: 4.5k
Warning: 18+ only, smut, angst, mentions of cheating and divorce, age gap, an uncomfortable confrontation
Best Friend's Dad!Harry Masterlist
You missed the occasional texts from Fae. Goofy memes or links to TikTok videos she knew you’d like. Recipes for you two to try. Screenshots from conversations with guys on Tinder.
There was nothing but silence from her for weeks at that point. And being blocked by her on every social media site you two were both on was glaring. It hurt. But what could you do? You’d categorically fucked up. There was no coming back from what you’d done to her family.
Most of your mutual friends were on Fae’s side and had also blocked you. Which you deserved and expected to be honest.
Harry slowly moved his things in. It took a couple of weeks. Every time he went home he tried to go at a time he thought his wife, well, he was calling her his ex now, wasn’t going to be there.
But, that afternoon, when he came home after you’d just had the worst shift you’d ever had in your life he was clearly upset. On edge.
And even though you’d had a terrible day you wanted to make sure he was okay, “Hey, are you all right?” You hugged one of his arms to your body after he sat a box full of his things down.
He smiled at you and brushed his fingers up the back of your neck, “She was there. It was awful. She’s just so full of rage toward me. And I get it, but it took a lot out of me. Better now, though,” he dropped his face to yours to kiss your mouth.
His kisses and his touches always made you feel better too. It was like everything outside of your little apartment was crashing down around you both, but as long as you stayed inside together you’d be okay.
He told you how his day at work was and then you both sat down on the couch and cuddled together, “How was your day at work, baby? I haven’t asked how your day was yet.”
You placed your chin on the top part of his arm as you looked up at him, “Horrible. Caressa is really mean. I think she’s trying to make me quit.”
Harry’s brows pulled together as he wrapped his arms around you, “Really? What has she been doing?”
“Well, last night she put me at the back. I had too many tables and no one to help because the bussers and floaters don’t go into the back when the restaurant is busy. They usually have two people waiting at the back to cover things but I was by myself so it was really stressful and the people I served were getting impatient with me so my tips were awful. And today I only had 2 tables my entire shift so I barely made any tips at all. I asked her if she could give me at least one more when a group came in but she just stared at me and laughed like I was crazy for asking,” You frowned. “Oh, and she updated the schedule without telling me. She’s got me off for five days in a row where I was supposed to be working all those days.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this last night?” He rubbed his hand up and down your back.
“I just didn’t feel like rehashing it last night. Didn’t want to think about work at all.”
Harry pulled you into his body until you were sitting in his lap with your legs on one side. You rested your head on his chest and closed your eyes. Everything was better when you were with Harry.
“Quit your job. You don’t deserve to be treated like that. And if she’s trying to sabotage you then it’s not going to be worth it to fight for it when you’re not making tips anyway.”
You sighed. It already looked like that’s where it was heading. Caressa had been cold to you since she learned it was in fact Harry that she’d seen that day. Of course, she sided with her friend and started treating you like the tramp you were.
You and Harry made dinner together and then cleaned up the kitchen after eating, “Have you heard anything from Fae?” You asked.
Harry shook his head, “Not yet.”
You frowned, “I hope she comes around.”
“I think she will. Eventually.”
You hoped he was right.
When you’d both finally climbed into bed together you snuggled into Harry like you always did. And even with the stress of everything going on outside you two always found a way to unwind together and being intimate (which usually included sex) seemed to help you both calm down and sleep well through the night.
Harry’s hand dragged up and down your back, as you nosed at his shoulder with your thigh hitched over his hip, “I love you, baby. Can I make you feel better?”
You smiled in the dark, “I think we both need to feel better.”
Harry’s chuckle vibrated from his chest as he dropped his hand to your bottom and pushed at the fabric of your panties until they were down around your thighs.
He kissed you gently and ran his hand over your breasts and then downward to your labia.
You pushed at Harry’s underwear and slid your hand under the band and smoothed your palm over his cock.
With mouths connected you both gently got one another worked up. Harry’s fingers soon became messy with your slick arousal, and Harry’s cock hardened with the stimulation from your hand rubbing over his shaft.
“You want to be fucked, little girl,” Harry teased as he spoke against your lips.
“Yes, I do, Mr. Styles. Please.”
Harry groaned. He enjoyed it when you called him Mr. Styles or Sir. Lately, it had just been Harry as things seemed so serious with everything going on.
“Mmm… love that,” he smiled into the kiss as he pushed you down to your back and quickly rid himself of his underwear as you kicked yours the rest of the way down your legs.
He ran his tip through your pussy lips and inhaled deeply as he pushed into you. You felt yourself stretch around him and moaned in relief.
“It’s so good with you, sir. I need you,” you cooed.
Harry’s languid strokes long and deep always had you weak. You felt his fingers wrap around the back of your neck as he brought his mouth against yours with a whimper.
It might have been the quietest sex you’d ever had together. Harry kept his unhurried pace, deep and searing while he kissed you. Your body was on fire. You’d come soon.
But then his next words against your lips changed the mood and had your head spinning and your heart pounding, “Wanna be my wife? Have my babies, Y/n? Want to show everyone you’re mine?”
His harsh rut into you had you inhaling a sharp breath as your eyes popped open and you arched your back into him., “Yes, Harry…”
“Yeah? Wanna be my Mrs. Styles? Have your pussy fucked and filled every day?”
“God… fuck yes, Harry…” you groaned loudly and somehow you felt yourself grow wetter at his words.
“M’gonna give you a big ring and keep you properly fucked, baby. Okay? Show everyone this is real.”
His words were thick and deep and with his lips against yours, you could almost taste them. It made your mouth water. That you’d be his wife and get his cock every night. Prove everyone wrong. Give him a few babies. It was just a fantasy at that point but it sounded exactly like what you wanted.
“Oh my god…” you gasped. Harry was fucking into you harder and your bed began to rock and your quiet sex turned wet and loud. He still had his hand at the back of your neck, almost cradling your head as he gently squeezed and kissed you, his cock spreading you apart as he thrust deeply hips pasted to yours. “This is real. You and me,” you moaned.
You felt Harry begin to quiver over your body as he gasped, “Want all of you, baby. Want every inch of you to be mine.”
You nodded as the tip of your orgasm started to wind its way through your system, “Every inch of me is yours. From the first time you fucked me, Harry.”
He lifted himself slightly and pulled himself out to his tip before driving back into you, repeatedly fucking himself into you in punishing strokes.
You grunted at each plunge and clung to his love handles as you unraveled loudly.
“There you go,” he groaned, “Sweetest girl. Gonna give this to you every day, baby,” he began to thrust erratically, his hips swaying and grinding into you.
Your ears rang as your orgasm wiped you out. You heard Harry loudly moan in time with his thrusts just as began to come inside of you. You felt the sharp punches of his cock against your cervix as he unloaded himself within your pulsing walls. Just like you loved. The final moment of your orgasm with his long dick reaching into your cervix making you ache and swell as he throbbed and pumped into you.
You’d happily be his wife and give him babies and rub it in everyone’s face with how wrong they all were about you and Harry. This man was the love of your life.
.           .           .
“I can’t believe you’re hooking up with Fae’s dad,” Paloma whispered to you as you sat at the little table in your favorite café. A café you and Fae often met up at.
“Well, we’re not just hooking up. But yeah. I feel really bad about everything but...” you trailed off as you shrugged and took a bite of your pastry.
She nodded at you excitedly. Paloma was a mutual friend of yours and Fae’s. She was always closer to you, though. But when she found out about your affair (thanks to Fae) she called you to get the tea directly from the source.
“I always thought her dad was so hot. It’s crazy that this is real. That he left his wife for you? You know that’s not typical, right? Usually, affairs don’t wind up with the man leaving his wife for his side piece.”
 You cringed. You hated that was the perception. But you let it slide. You figured she wouldn’t exactly understand everything but it felt good to talk to someone about it who wasn’t your mother.
“I know. That’s why when we started everything it was just going to be like… not serious you know. We’d end things before it got to be too much. Before anyone found out or got hurt. But we both fell in love. I don’t know how we could have stopped it.”
“Fae despises you and her dad. When she called me I was confused because she never reaches out to me but then I realized she wanted to make sure as many people knew as possible,” Paloma laughed, “I mean… I was shocked but I’m still your friend. I can’t judge you for what you’ve done.”
“So you don’t think I’m a bad person?”
She chuckled, “Well, I don’t agree with what you did but I could never think you’re a bad person. You can’t help who you fall in love with.”
You drank your hot tea and tried to enjoy yourself with your friend but the longer you and Paloma chatted, the more you missed Fae. No one could replace Fae. She was your other half in so many ways.
“Can I ask you a really personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want.”
You shrugged, “Okay. Sure.” You had an idea of what she was going to ask based on the fact that you’d gotten onto the topic of birth control.
“Is he good? Now that I’m thinking about him like that I can imagine he is.”
You breathed out laughed through your nose and smiled as you looked down into your tea, “He’s good. Yes.” You weren’t sure how deep into it you wanted to get but you’d entertain her for a bit.
“And I bet he’s got a big… dick.” She whispered the word dick quietly.
That’s where you drew the line. You sipped your warm tea and turned your gaze to the corner of the room where someone was just taking their seat.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” she spoke, drawing your attention back to her.
“It’s okay. I’m not sure I want to talk about that anymore, though. Tell me what you’ve been up to.”
It turned out that Paloma didn’t have much to say about herself. She gave you the tiniest bit of information, where she was working, that she’d dated someone a couple of months back and that it didn’t work out, and how she was planning a vacation to Cancun. But that’s it.
It felt strange to divulge such personal things to someone who gave you so little in return. And you should have known that’s what was going to happen. She wanted the dirty details about you and Harry. She wasn’t there to be a friend. Not really. She wasn’t rude but you saw that her motivation was to sate her curiosity.
Maybe you were better off just confiding in your mother. Though, she never asked you things about how sex was with Harry. She always only wanted you to be happy and doing your best.
And it would have been fun to discuss in detail how good you were getting it with Harry. And if Fae weren’t his daughter you’d do that with her. Tell her all about how insane his body is, how strong he is, how big his cock is, and how he eats you out almost every day. You’d totally brag about him with her if things were different. But instead, you were stuck with Paloma who you didn’t want to give too many details to. And besides, you and Harry were still healing. To talk about how he was in bed didn’t seem right. Especially when you didn’t know who she was going to tell.
You stopped at the grocery store on your way home to get some things you needed and you picked up one of those cheap grocery store flower bouquets. Harry had stopped having them sent when shit hit the fan and he moved in. You didn’t know if it was because they were so expensive or just because he hadn’t thought about it what with everything going on, but you figured a small bouquet might feel nice to have in the apartment.
But when you pulled into your building’s parking lot you saw, what looked like Mrs. Styles’ car parked at the front. Of course, perhaps it was someone else’s, you were a bit paranoid lately. You always had your eyes roaming around just in case you accidentally ran into her or Fae.
With one arm occupied by your grocery bag and your other hand holding the small bouquet, you slowly walked up the steps toward your door and thought, maybe it wasn’t Mrs. Styles. Perhaps it was actually just someone with a car like hers. Plus how silly for her to confront you. What good would that do anyone?
“Y/n. I’ve been waiting for you.”
You heard her voice before you saw her and then felt her pull your bag from your arm, “Let me help you. Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”
You felt your vision blur and shade in with red as your heart pummeled in your chest, “Oh. Thank you, Mrs. Styles.” It was difficult to hide the shock you felt. You were sure she saw it.
You put your key into your door to unlock it and did some quick math in your mind for when Harry would be coming home. You didn’t want to be with Mrs. Styles alone. In your apartment.
“Cute. Kind of small,” she commented as she walked into your home behind you. She’d never visited before. “I’ll set this in the kitchen here, then?” She pointed to what was very obviously your kitchen.
“Yes. Sure. Thank you.”
She sat the bag on the countertop and you laid the bouquet on your little round kitchen table. You didn’t know what she wanted. What her intentions were. You weren’t sure you wanted to know.
She leaned her hip to the counter and crossed her arms over her chest as she looked at you, taking in your outfit. You felt like you should have dressed nicer. Maybe you would have put more thought into your outfit if you knew you’d be seeing Mrs. Styles. You were wearing jeans with holes in the knees and a hoodie.
You kept thinking of things to say to fill in the very uncomfortable silence. One was that Harry would be home soon, but that felt wrong to say to the woman who was still married to him. Another was to ask her how she’d been doing. Also, not a good question to ask.
“Uh, would you like some water?” You walked toward the cupboard to pull out a couple of glasses. Even if she didn’t want one you needed it.
“No, thank you.”
You nodded to yourself as you poured a glass with water and took a gulp to soothe your dry throat.
“Would you like to sit?” You carried your glass to the kitchen table and gestured at it as you looked back toward her.
Her eyes pierced through you coolly, “No, thank you.”
You leaned your bottom into the table and looked down at your linoleum floor. You hated this. You had no idea how to do this with her. Whatever this was.
“Did you,” you looked up at her eyes, “Want to talk? Or…?”
“I don’t know that you and I have much to discuss that won’t end with hurt feelings. I just came here to see you again and say my peace. It was hard for me to remember what you looked like in my mind. I always imagine you as a high school girl even though I know you’re an adult and I’ve seen you as an adult. Kind of like how I see Fae still. My little girl,” she smiled. “And so with you, you were still a high school girl in my mind’s eye. Quiet. Polite. Fae’s closest and dearest friend. A warm and bright girl that I loved like my own daughter,” her words were razor blades.
“But I couldn’t imagine what you looked like anymore now that you’ve done something so unlike the girl I used to know. I needed to see you for what you are now. The person who’s sleeping with my husband. Who threw away a relationship with my daughter, who is the most beautiful and loving young woman anyone could ever know. And now I see it. I never saw it before but it was always there wasn’t it?”
You shook your head, “I never wanted to hurt–“
“No one ever does, Y/n. No one with any amount of good in their heart ever wants to hurt anyone much less themselves. But you’ve done it haven’t you? You’ve hurt Fae. You’ve hurt me. You’ve hurt Harry. And worst of all is that you’ve hurt yourself.”
She wasn’t wrong about anything she said. You had caused a lot of pain. You hurt people that meant a lot to you. Mrs. Styles, at one time, had meant a lot to you. But now it felt like she was a stranger in your apartment. Someone you didn’t want there.
“I get it, now, though. Looking at you. I was so confused at first. I thought why would Harry even look at you in that way? So I just came here to see if I could make sense of that and you as you are now. And… yeah I see it. You’re lovely. Definitely his type. And you’re sweet too. God that makes it so hard to hate you. I really wanted to hate you too but instead, I just hate Harry now. Because this is really his fault in the end. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” she laughed incredulously, “I don’t like you one bit anymore. But I can’t hate you.”
You couldn’t keep eye contact with her. It felt like you were being incinerated.
“Harry’s had a lot of women after him in the past. Even after we were married women would flirt and try to get close to me just so they could get closer to him. It was funny because I noticed all of that. I was aware of what they were doing. Even had to cut a good friend out after she drunkenly admitted she wanted to sleep with him. He’s such an attractive man. Believe me, I know. I always knew other women found him sexy. But with you? Never had a clue. Wouldn’t have ever imagined it.”
You felt numb. You had no idea how to respond or even if you should.
“Anyway,” she pushed herself away from the counter and clapped her hands together with a faux smile, “That’s all I wanted to say. I hope you’re prepared for him to break your heart. Because this won’t last, Y/n. I don’t want him anymore but I’m just giving you a warning. If he can throw away a 24-year marriage for a 24-year-old girl whom he has nothing in common with, then just expect him to do something that catches you off guard.”
She walked past you to your front door and you listened as she opened and closed it behind her. You couldn’t move from your spot. You tried to breathe to calm yourself and not overthink the words she said.
You knew that she was angry and some of what she said was an attempt to get under your skin. To make you feel bad. Which you already did feel bad, of course. But now it felt suffocating. Felt like there were cracks starting to gape and widen between you and Harry but you needed to not allow that, as hard as it was. Hard not to take heed of her advice and note how other women wanted him and how he strayed from his wife whom he was married to for 24 years.
When Harry finally came home you didn’t know how long you’d been standing there at your kitchen table. You hadn’t moved a muscle. Your groceries hadn’t been put away. The flowers were still lying on your table. You were caught in your mind and battling not to allow your doubts about Harry to overcome you. Because you knew he loved you, you reminded yourself.
“Baby,” He wrapped his arms around your front as he stood behind you and kissed your temple, “Got groceries and flowers?”
You nodded shallowly.
He kissed you again and then you felt his face next to yours, could see from your peripheral that he was looking at you. He pulled his arms away and stepped to face you, pulling your hands into his, “Honey, what’s wrong?”
You slowly brought your gaze to his and immediately you felt better. His eyes. His concern. His warmth. And you could see the way he loved you. He loved you. You stepped toward him and put your arms around his middle and smushed your ear into his chest as you finally let your tears pour.
Harry drew his arms tight around you, “Baby, what happened? Tell me what’s wrong?”
You choked out a sob and squeezed him even more.
Harry sat down in a chair, and kept you with him, pulling you into his lap as he cupped your face and tried to look at you, “Sweetheart, you’re worrying me. Did something happen?”
You nodded and pushed your face back into his chest. You wished you could stop your tears and just tell him but you could barely sputter a word out.
He rubbed your back and gently rocked you as you cried in his arms and wetted his nice button-shirt with your tears.
When you felt better and felt like you could speak, your first words came out sounding so tiny and pathetic, “I’m sorry.”
“Shh, shh, shhh…” he softly hushed you, “Don’t be sorry, baby. Can you tell me what happened?”
You sniffed and looked up at him, “She… your wife. She came here.”
Harry’s face dropped, “What happened? What did she say?”
“She just wanted to see me and tell me what she thought about everything. I couldn’t even speak I was so nervous. She wasn’t here long.”
He nodded and used his thumbs to wipe your tears, “I will have a talk with her. She should not have come here. She has no business to do such a thing.”
You leaned into his touch as he wiped your tears.
“What did she say to make you so upset? Talk to me.”
“Just that you’ll hurt me eventually and you and I have nothing in common. She wasn’t mean, though. Everything she said was true about me. How I hurt everyone. And she said that other women want you too and…” you swallowed. You could hardly put your thoughts together coherently.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/n. And you know it’s not true that we have nothing in common. You and I get along perfectly. She’s just upset. You know that right?”
You nodded.
“And I don’t care how many women find me attractive, or even how many men find you attractive. None of that matters. You know that.”
“I know. She was just upset. It just scared me that I had to confront her alone. And I hate how she looks at me now. I’m the woman who took her husband.”
When your tears had finally dried, Harry helped you put the groceries away and put the flowers in a pretty vase to display.
“I need to have flowers delivered again. These are pretty but I like the ones Florero delivers.”
You wrapped your arms around Harry’s middle and looked up at him, “You’re so sweet but you don’t have to. I know those were expensive. I just thought any flowers would look nice so I picked them up on a whim.”
“You deserve flowers from Florero, baby,” he kissed your forehead. “I just forgot about it since everything that happened and moving here with you. But you still deserve nice things.”
You really didn’t feel like you needed nice things. Harry had never done all that much in the way of spending money on you. It was flowers, some jewelry, food, a toy. Things like that. But you were happy to just have him. You were happy that he was yours. And as awful as it was to feel the way you did, you were glad he chose you because you were always going to choose him.
Harry smushed you against his chest, “You know how much I love you, Y/n. I would choose you over and over again. No matter how hard it gets. Never let anyone’s words convince you otherwise.”
And there wasn’t a single part of you that didn’t believe him.
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945 notes · View notes
catawonkus · 11 months
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The titanic discourse has been interesting and reminded me of something I already knew: on the internet, you’re not talking to the same person you’re arguing with.
It’s like: Person A posts “what a crazy thing but i feel sorry for them”; Person B replies “I don’t! I hate billionaires. I hope they die terribly and are banging on the sides of the metal begging as they die in agony” (a paraphrase of a comment I saw)
Person C sees this, thinks, holy shit, that’s a terrible thing to take joy out of imagining, but doesn’t respond.
Then person D makes a sort of tasteless meme, or whatever. Person E makes an actual funny meme.
Person C is still thinking about B and so makes a post being like “some of you need to be more compassionate; these are real people”
Person F is super into the critiquing of the lack of safety and cares deeply for the preservation of the titanic. They see D, E, and then C’s post but not B’s comment. They make a post. “No one is saying we want them to die!! We’re just pointing out the irony and critiquing it!”
And it just kind of spirals until people who are seeing news articles like “explorers and heroes are mourned” are making posts like “anyone calling for sympathy is a bootlicker and are ignoring the other tragedies like the Greek boat!!” In response to the articles. But it’s seen by people who are calling for kindness because they’ve seen horrible comments.
And people who are perfectly fine with critique but not with ghoulish comments wishing horrible death on people are offended because they’ve been called a traitor to the working class. And people who posted a funny meme are offended because they’ve been called a monster. Or at least they both think so.
Because in your head, you are arguing with one person, but it’s being seen by everyone; and some of those people have seen stupid or horrible things in the opposite direction and they are arguing with that. But it looks like they’re arguing with you.
Especially on tumblr, where most arguments are shouted into the void.
Anyway this was such a ramble. But I always have to remind myself of this.
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anistarrose · 7 months
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This is my online accessibility (especially image descriptions) masterpost, which I update periodically whenever I find a new resource or guide. I worry this has the side effect of looking overwhelming in scope, so if you're learning about IDs and/or Tumblr-specific accessibility for the first time, I recommend you start with the first five starred posts. All post titles are clickable links!
*Why and how to write image descriptions (with examples linked)
*Accessibility on Tumblr for new users (has templates, also talks about how to tag for flashing lights to accommodate photosensitive folks)
*I see an image and want to describe it: a step by step guide
*Fanart-specific and Tumblr-specific advice for image descriptions
*How to describe screenshots of tags
Why a short ID is always better than no ID
I want to make my posts more accessible, but can’t write IDs myself: a guide
Google Doc full of template descriptions for memes
Online image to text converter
Describing skin tone and describing hair (heads up that the posts themselves are undescribed and were written with fiction writers in mind; potentially still very useful)
How to remember to write descriptions (spoiler: by putting yourself in situations where you see descriptions more often)
Related, a Google doc of described blogs (almost all the blogs linked earlier in this post have tons of described posts and resources too)
(In my opinion, writing IDs is easiest to learn by doing — but especially if combined with watching other people do so. So follow some described blogs!)
Why not to put image descriptions in small fonts/italics (also, some non-definitive thoughts on IDs vs alt text, and why "both" actually makes sense as an answer in many cases)
More on IDs vs alt text from a visually impaired Tumblr user
Alt text vs IDs vs Captions with examples
Brief Intro to Transcripts/Video Descriptions
The People's Accessibility Discord sever (a very friendly community for crowdsourcing image descriptions)
How to make your blog's colors visually accessible - one of the easiest thing on this list!
Other easy things: show love to artists who describe their work, edit descriptions into your original post when someone provides one in the notes, and copy-paste inaccessible (eg, small text or italicized) descriptions as plain text when you reblog!
Lastly, and maybe most importantly, how to continue writing image descriptions while avoiding burnout.
Let me know if any of these links break! I personally don't describe nearly as much audio/video (got those audio processing issues), so this list is sparse on those resources, but if anyone has good guides/blog recommendations for that too, feel free to add on!
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omgthatdress · 10 months
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Barbie made her debut in 1959. The way she was sold then is a little different than the way she's sold now. These days, individual Barbies come with their own unique looks & usually some kind of unique function or accessories. You can buy clothes separately, but those looks are still secondary to the expectation of buying a lot of Barbies. Back in the day, you bought the one Barbie and then bought her clothes separately. This is why back then Barbie came with a bunch of friends and always came wearing a swimsuit.
The oft-memed origin story for the classic Barbie is that she was modeled on a German sex doll named Lili, which is only partially true. In the 50s, most dolls available for girls were baby dolls that primed girls for being a wife and mother. Fashion dolls were a thing but they were generally more reserved for adults.
Ruth Handler, who co-founded Mattel with her husband and served as its president from 1945-1973 (#girlboss much?), got the idea of making an adult doll for girls when she'd see her daughters playing with paper dolls. Instead of playing with babies, they chose teen-aged and adult paper dolls and played fantasized versions of adulthood. Then, on a trip to Germany, Ruth saw a Lili doll in a store, and asked her daughters what they'd think of playing with a doll like that. Apparently, they liked the idea.
Lili the doll wasn't an inflatable fuck doll. She was based on a popular comic strip character Lili created by Reinhard Beuthien and published in the Hamburg-based Bild Zeitung. Lili was a buxom gold-digger seducing her way through the wealthy men of post-war West Germany.
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The comic was definitely adult-oriented, and the doll it created was a popular bachelor party gag gift.
The introduction of a doll with breasts did cause *some* controversy, but it was more pearl-clutching rather than tremendous cultural outrage. Barbie was actually an immediate hit. She fit in very well to late 50s ideals of femininity. I've heard it said before that parents liked her because she helped little girls get into the beauty, fashion, and level of grooming that she would need to catch a husband. IDK if that was intentional, but it seems to fit very well.
I don't want to get into whether or not Barbie is this huge feminist icon or not because, well, she's a toy. I think Ruth Handler was an incredibly smart businesswoman who saw a market demand and met it. Barbie is about the power of fantasy and imagination, and anything that people see in her are the things they want to see in her.
In her incredible multitude of careers, she also holds up an impossible and toxic standard of beauty. Mattel has always been very aware of Barbie's image. I'm pretty sure that the reason Mattel hated "Barbie Girl" so much wasn't because it was wink-wink sexual, but because it nailed the popular stereotype of the time that Barbie was this fake, plastic bimbo who was an unhealthy role model for girls (go listen to Aquarium, now!).
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The recent years of Barbie taking on a more empowering, feminist, and diverse lean is because Mattel is simply correcting course and keeping up with the times. Honestly, they've done a very good job of it, but I'm not going to kid myself into thinking they're doing anything other than maximizing profits.
I love me some Barbie but I was always an AG girl, ngl. However, I think Barbie and her cultural context are still incredibly fascinating and worth taking a look at.
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odinsblog · 11 months
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One About The Atmosphere: Want to change minds? Stop trying. Change the atmosphere instead.
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Donald Trump in 2016 greets a screaming horde of ecstatic white christian nationalists
Minivan was a nice enough guy. He was easygoing; a happy guy with a frequently deployed smile. I don’t recall much anger from him, nor many strongly held opinions. I wouldn’t call him a philosophical type. No deep late night talks with Stove Minivan is my recollection.
This is the sort of dude I’d hang out with at a party, if there were a party we were both at, but not one with whom I’d maintain a relationship if we both graduated and then moved to different places—which I know for a fact, because that’s what happened. We drifted.
So then what happened is twelve years or so later I got on The Facebook, and Stove Minivan was there, too, and before long, we were friends again, he and I, and so were me and my other college friends, and them with him, and … look, you know the drill. It was The Facebook.
Minivan was no longer a pre-med student at a small northern liberal arts college. He was a doctor—a general care practitioner, if memory serves—in a smallish plains state town, very much like many other towns in the great plains or elsewhere in the country, I imagine.
Anyway, before long I noticed something about Minivan. Even though his feed was full of pictures of him and his lovely family, and he was smiling in them just the same as he always had in college, he was angry.
He was *enraged*
What was he angry about? The Demonrats.
Minivan was absolutely enraged about everything the Demonrats did. He also was out of his mind angry about Killary, and Obummer, the leaders of the Demonrats—or at least they were the front for the real leader of the Demonrats, who even back then I believe was George Soros.
What did the Demonrats do? Oh my heck, what *didn’t* they do? Mostly they hated America and American security and American economic strength, it seems. They engaged in corruption and bowed to foreign powers a lot. They shredded the dignity of the presidency, that’s for sure.
Minivan’s worldview wasn’t particularly coherent, if you want to know the truth.
I couldn’t help to notice that the Demonrats weren’t actually doing many of the things that Minivan thought they were doing.
And I noticed other things.
For example, I couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the policies Minivan supported were directly *causing* the sorts problems that made Minivan so angry.
And I couldn’t help but notice that well-sourced information enraged him more than pretty much anything else.
There was a lot of linking to sites I’d never heard of, like Breitbart and Newsmax, and of course plenty of Fox News. There were a lot of memes. There were a lot of conspiracy theories (a big birther, was Minivan).
Some of his posts contained subtle bigotry. Most of the rest contained not-subtle bigotry. Several of them contained slogans and statements that were, very simply, neo Nazi and white supremacist memes and shibboleths.
There was a lot of commentary accompanying these posts from Minivan, who was saying shocking stuff for a small-town family doctor … the sorts of things that it seemed to me would make people not want to use this person as a doctor, or or sit next to that person on a bus.
I hadn’t heard of Alex Jones, yet, but Minivan sounded a lot like Alex Jones, word for word and beat for beat. He’d even start his posts like a right-wing radio host: Sorry folks, but you can’t even make stuff like this up—ironically, accompanying things that had been made up.
This was all pretty distressing to those of us who had known Minivan back in the day, before he had become so obsessed with Demonrats.
So, a lot of us, myself included, did exactly what The Facebook wants.
We engaged with him.
At the time my belief was, you defeated bad ideas with better ideas, by confronting the bad ideas directly with the better ideas. Debate was for changing minds. You presented your ideas, they presented theirs, you countered, they countered, eventually everybody saw the truth.
But the intention was that I’d change his mind, with facts presented logically, delivered calmly and patiently.
This was my belief.
What happened confounded me, but perhaps you can predict it.
Minivan escalated any correction, however calmly stated or bloodlessly presented, into scorched earth territory. He rejected all proofs by rejecting the source outright as irrevocably tainted by bias, or he’d spiral into non sequitur, spamming our feeds with more misinformation.
He would claim he never said things he had just said, even though the statements were still there for anybody to read, one comment earlier in the thread.
He’d claim that I said things I'd never said, as anyone foolish enough to read through our conversations could discover.
He demonstrated a complete dedication to his ignorance and anger, and a total disinterest in anything like observable truth that contradicted his grievance.
It was confounding and unfamiliar behavior to me, at the time.
At the time.
All of it was larded with grievance, a sense that people like him had never wronged anybody, and everybody else had done nothing but wrong people like him.
The bigotry and authoritarianism grew.
And all the time, on Facebook, he and his family kept smiling their perfect smiles.
I’ll admit that over time my interactions stopped being polite and bloodless, and I’m not particularly sorry for it. I told him some things about himself he seemed not to know, but which I thought really ought to be said.
I have a bit of a penchant for sarcasm, which you may have noticed.
I employed this skill, and you can feel how you want to about sarcasm, but I think it helped convey the correct posture to take toward someone who says the sorts of things Minivan was saying.
The correct posture being "you have proved yourself to be a person who should not be taken seriously, and your positions do not deserve even a modicum of respect."
I found this a more healthy message to convey about Minivan to anybody watching, and I still do.
Eventually he blocked me, and he was out of my life forever. It was the right choice, and I'm very glad he did that.
I’ve pondered the incident since, as it’s become more and more relevant to “the way things are.”
A few things had become clear over time.
Minivan was not somebody whose intentions could be trusted. He was not operating in good faith, and I believe he well knew it, because many of his favorite sources of information have written instruction books on how to engage with people in bad faith.
Minivan was not debating; he was using debate to inject his counterfactual beliefs into the discourse, which were designed to further marginalize already marginalized people while simultaneously cloaking himself in self-exonerating grievance.
More, he was exerting an active effort to not know things that could be easily known, and to demand to be convinced out of deliberate ignorance, not because he was interested in having his ideas challenged, but because he demanded a world in which he got to decide what was real.
Further still: Minivan *learned* from me. The effect of telling him he was using one or another logical fallacy was not to sharpen his reasoning, but to teach him about the existence of logical fallacies, which let him (incorrectly) accuse others of those same logical fallacies.
So Minivan was deploying the language of logic, in ways that betrayed a total lack of understanding about what those fallacies were, granted, but in ways that likely made him seem more knowledgeable and reasonable to a casual or sympathetic observer.
He learned to ape our phrases and arguments, in much the way he’d learned to ape the style of Alex Jones and all the various Breitbart and Newsmax contributors he used to inform himself.
And these days it occurs to me: I hear a lot about "groomers."
We were not changing him by engaging with him thoughtfully.
We certainly weren’t changing him by engaging with him in kind.
Rather: we were making him better at what he was doing, and we were validating his world view—to himself and others—as one that merited engagement.
And week after week on Facebook, Minivan kept smiling and smiling and getting angrier and angrier, at us and Obummer and all the other Demonrats and liberals and every member of every minority group who dared to fail to ceaselessly assure him that he was right about everything.
I don’t miss Minivan's black-hole-sun smile. I think of it as my first hint of MAGA: politically overrepresented, socially coddled people, often living outwardly happy privileged lives, while seething inwardly that other people might be getting anything, anything at all.
Indeed, soon enough, another figure would come on the scene, whose behavior matched that of Minivan almost exactly, a perfect avatar for this spirit of aggrieved bigotry and supremacy that seemed to be moving through my former friend.
And sure enough, as I saw, there were millions and millions of smiling seething people who loved him.
And that guy became president.
Nobody believed he would. And then he did.
Because Stove Minivan, it turns out, wasn’t some weird outlier.
He was part of a growing new normal, a group of people who had been offered a chance to immigrate from observable reality and enter a dark world of constant hostility, misinformation, and self-loving grievance.
It's an invitation they leapt at, to which they cling even now.
It's a constituency immune to proof, angered by equality, cheered by cruelty, who blame others for the foulness of the shallow puddle of reasoning within which they have demand to be seated, even though we can all see them fouling it themselves, every day.
And afterward, a huge number of those shocked by this development decided the proper reaction was to accommodate it, in the name of unity—a belief, it seems, grounded in the idea that what you choose to get along with isn’t as important as getting along no matter what.
I’ll finish with the question that all of Minivan’s former friends would eventually ask, whenever they gathered together long enough for the subject to arise.
"What the hell happened to Minivan?"
Here’s the answer, I think: nothing.
Nothing happened to Minivan. Nothing at all.
He was always that guy, and he always thought the things he thought.
What changed was that he was given a lot of language with which to express those ideas, and access to enough other people who thought that way too, that it created a critical mass of permission.
The permission allowed him to change his attitudes and actions, and created a lot of other people willing to accommodate and normalize his antisocial anti-reality behavior, rather than reject it out of hand.
In college you could be pretty conservative, honestly. It was a pretty conservative place. But you couldn't behave like Minivan later would.
You’d be understood to be a far-right extremist, and people would then treat you like a far-right extremist.
Which is what you'd be.
I think it just wasn't possible for Minivan to be what he later became, because the atmosphere wasn't conducive to the possibility.
But then the atmosphere changed.
If we want to change it back, it's worth thinking about how atmospheres change.
(source)
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dietmountaindewbae · 4 months
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hiii i LOVE ur fics omg pls never stop writing,
could you maybe do something You-ish (the TV show "You") (idk if you've seen it but it's amazing) something stalker-ish? where alex is joe and reader is his, soon to be, gf (cuz he makes her) (any alex era) 💌
hope ur well🤍💋
xxiii. obsession
alex turner x reader
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word count: 12626
summary: We ran into each other by chance or by fate, your clumsiness started something for me, something for us, and it's my duty to find out who you are. (the car! era) This story is written on Alex's narrative.
warnings: obsessions & rough s*x
song recommendation: tear you apart by she wants revenge
───── ୨୧ ─────
Ever since that day outside of a party, when you fell into my arms, drunk and loud, I had never felt so high, I had felt something the moment you smiled at me and flushed from the embarrassment, your eyes watery from the cold, your lips red full of blood, alcohol running fast through your veins, my heart falling from my mouth, you pulled away and hugged yourself, too embarrassed from what had happened, you thought it was too much booze, I thought it was meant to be, right place and right time. You just said "Sorry," I helped you to get back on your feet, our hands lightly graze and we lock in a stare, but then your mates dragged you across the street, they had dragged you away from me, like parents and their out-of-control kid, you waved goodbye at me, and all I could do was smile and wave goodbye to you, I was a fool, I didn't know what to say, it was one of those 'what would have happened?' moments when I ask myself, 'what if I had just said "It's ok, don't worry, love"' Icould vividly picture us walking down the street, going for some food because we were pissed, I would've kissed you, and asked for your number, then we could be dating, holding hands in the street, laughing at everything, hanging out with your stupid mates, if they hadn't been there and taken you away from me, I probably wouldn't have found meself, hiding behind the threes in the middle of a cold winter in LA, hoping to be in the warmth of your arms than out in the cold darkness of the street. I can't help to wonder if you ever think of me.
Your name and your last name stayed in a constant loop on my mind, one of your mates, the one with the light brown hair had screamed it as she found you falling into my arms, it would be stupid if I didn't look for you, right? You're gorgeous, you were nice and interesting, It would be weird if I didn't try to find your social media. It was easy to find you, I hate to admit how easy it is to find everything online these days, I found your Instagram and Facebook with just a few clicks on my computer, it's too easy it makes me laugh.
I scrolled through every single one of your posts on Facebook, you had a few, not many, everything was mainly about your little family trips and your sister's child, I made a note that you might just have Facebook out of pressure from your mother and sister since they always tag you in memes or those annoying TED Talk videos and you never answer, I found your mother's page, widowed, 49 years old, looks 45, she gave you her face, older sister, found her page too, married with a toddler, awfully bitter since she has to post where she is at all times, even if her child had taken a massive shit and had the looks of a giant worm, she would've posted it, I left the best for last. Your Instagram, no one these days uses Facebook.
Your Instagram was private but empty with not a single sight of you... so it's no use, what about your friends?... Hello you... I could hold on to these group pictures Larissa posted, thank you internet! Your friend group was small but they knew how to get around, only 4 people, two girls called Julie and Larissa, and Julie's boyfriend Luca, 5 if you counted me in, soon, luckily for me, Julie had an empty page, barely any pictures, just her and Luca but her profile was public but that lead me to find your other friend, Larissa had pictures of her face and some of you and Julie at pubs, very self-centered I suppose, Luca only posted about being a gym addict. I took a more personal approach, your sister Nina, who loves you very much, she had plenty of pictures of you. Thanksgiving was at your house, you looked gorgeous in those pictures, you wore a white dress with red flowers and black platforms, your long hair in beautiful waves, if any pervert were to see it, you would be such an easy victim with that long hair, but you're not, you're not so easy to hunt down in the dark. There was a picture of you and your sister's baby boy, sitting next to the three by a bay window, great. I took note of the stores, houses, and historical buildings nearby and then reality hit me as I took a cab on the way to your house.
Come on Alex, what are you doing? You look like a creep with your cap and coat in the middle of the night, It's only just a crush it'll go away, just like all the others. But you see? That's the problem with you, you're not, this is dangerous but I'll take my chances for you, I'm not obsessed with you, like I said, it's only just a crush. I hide behind some trees in front of your house on the other side of the street, and I contemplate this wonderful girl in her bedroom, going round and round with a book in her hands. 
At night me head couldn't stop spinning, making all of these scenarios, about a girl who meets a stranger, and they fall madly in love in just a split second. I didn't need more, I could hold on to your light vanilla perfume and the softness of your hair, your lips, your collarbone, your shoulder, the curve of your breasts in the blouse you wore that night, I want to hold you close and kiss you hard.
For next few days I followed you around, I made you a time table, every morning at 5:30 you went for a run, and you finished off at home some with exercises you found on YouTube, you were visibly struggling, and that made me laugh but I felt bad for doing so, you worked hard, you finished around 6:30, you liked walking like a true new yorker, in your most sober looks, sometimes in a dress with a blue navy sweater on top of dresses , jeans, and a silky shirt, winter or no winter, you loved wearing tank tops, loved exposing even just a little bit of your body, even in the coldest days, your legs, your beautiful shoulders, a v-neck, mini skirts, checkered shorts or pants, and sexy patterned tights with colors like pastel blue, and even red to spice up your all black outfits, and you always wore that luscious and berry coloured lipstick on your lips, heels, motorcycle boots, ballerina flats, dresses, chunky sweaters, straight leg vintage jeans, coats, heels, shoulder bags, mini bags, but what a must was, something that never came off of you, your golden necklace, you're an everything girl, you dressed for the day, it told you exactly what to wear, even if you broke your pattern, you mostly dressed like Jane Birkin, jeans, white shirt, chunky purse, but you love leather, leather belts, leather jackets. Then you walk to your favorite café, and your drink depends on how tired you feel, black coffee for busy days or cappuccinos for the days you don't feel in a rush, then you take the metro, read a book and sip on your coffee while listening to your music, you are in college by 7:30, have 30 minutes to spare, but you're wise, and you use them organize yourself while you ease up with some music, I've never seen a longer playlist to be honest, there's a bit of everything there, you write your things in a red wine journal, I wonder what's in those little pink notes you stick on your notebook.
I made sure you got safely to your workplace after school at 4:00 pm, a bakery, you love talking to the people at the register as they ask you for your favorite dessert, and you always choose the same, tiramisu, rich coffee with some liquor, mascarpone carefully enveloped with delicious whipping cream, and a touch of cocoa sifted all over the tiramisu, and you juggle back and forward with doing school work, help in the kitchen, serve the costumers with a bright and friendly smile, you're tired and they don't pay you enough. And when you get home a 10 pm, you don't go to sleep, you stay up until you're finished but you never truly are, no matter how late or early, you can't sleep, why is that beautiful? Aren't your sheets made of the softest cotton? But I can see, that you are compromised to live in a city that never sleeps, you get ready for your next job at your nearest live jazz pub as a bartender, I'm very familiar with that type of job, you serve the customers with a kind smile as the music rocks you, you talk to other girls, and the artists flirt with you from time to time but you didn't submit, you knew better than that, you got paid well, the tips that fell on your back pocket from the nasty old men helped you to afford your apartment, barely making it to the next cut but you made it.
And every restless night when your mind couldn't stop thinking you went out to the nearest pub, and you made new friends, some men flirted with you until sadly, one night I had to watch you leave with one of them, he conquered your body before me, I wonder if you ever think of me in that way, a sexy stranger, that clouded your mind with ideas until you finally gave in. He did what he wanted to do, and when he left, you were still flushed and needy, that night I watched you hump your pillow with angst to get yourself off, a gorgeous picture to see, one that was engraved in my brain since then.
Every night when I crashed in my bed, and I prayed for this to go away but it continued to grow, I prayed for you to get out of me head, but your face, your smile, every curve of your body lived in me head, and if I don't something about it, you'll hunt me down forever. 
I walked down the street on a Saturday night, It's been a week since we bumped into each other, discreetly searching for you with my eyes, until, I found you, in your West Village, street-level, white, vintage but modern apartment that might be hard for you to afford but you keep on paying it because the creepy landlord has a massive crush on you, he cannot fool me, I know what it's like.
You live in such a melancholic part of New York and also warm, old, and historic, it holds so many stories, and memories that's why it reminds you of home, like the baby pictures your mom posts, your living area illuminated with yellow lights from you mid-century lamps, like the sky in a beautiful afternoon, laying in your sette in a white tank top and panties, finally, you get to relax and enjoy yourself.
I could see the outline of your body through your thin linen white curtains, you were wearing vintage headphones connected to your record player, reading a book, Bukowski's 'Love Is A Dog From Hell' Yes, it must certainly is. Then suddenly you stood up, I'm certain you're barefoot, through a crack in the curtain I can see you're approaching the window, I could see the left side of your face, soft, round, cute little pointy nose, and your eyes, a sparkle in them as you stare into the sky, pink pouty lips, and a little beauty spot in your cheek, your phone in the ear, moving your lips with a smile as if you were talking to the person in the other line in real life. You nodded a couple of times and then you hung up, I saw the outline of your body, running towards your bedroom, what's got you in such a hurry? But before you forget, you turn up the music so loud the whole neighborhood can hear it, you choose something classic 'Bang Bang' by Nancy Sinatra, shoot me down, your linen curtain reflecting the light, and you take out your top in one move tossing it away, the outline of your naked beautiful body stretching had made me think so many things to do with it in less than a second, you pick your clothes with care, hanging them in front of your mirror, posing with the clothes on top of your body.
You sit somewhere in your room, and I can hardly see you, something about your magnetism draws me to you, so I stupidly cross the street and find shelter behind a three, but I get even more stupid as I get to see you doing your makeup in the mirror, your phone rings and your face goes blank, you answer and I see how your expressions change like the way flowers rot, gradually you get darker and darker, until... you break into tears putting an end to the call, and you push your phone away, you look into the mirror, and I see a tear roll down your cheek slowly, your face scrunched, and your cheeks reddened, you look at yourself in the mirror, all I can see is hate and rage, and then, you're cold as ice, not another tear rolls down your cheeks, you clean them up with a soft cotton pad and continue to apply makeup on your face, I wonder who has made you cry? even if it was just one small insignificant tear, whoever that was...they still made you cry.
Before you leave, you check yourself one last time, the dress you choose to wear was way better than the typical night outfits women wear these days, less ostentatious, you like dressing feminine, classic but modern, but not so pretty that you look like a little girl, you were more than pretty, you were hot, steaming, boiling, no man would approach you like that, and that was the sad truth for you but good news for both of us, not as any man would approach you, they had to have big balls to do so, baby doll dress, platforms, and a racer jacket, cute, stylish, edge, as always, you were sharp as a blade to the skin. Your hair is straight and it looks longer than when it's on your natural waves, and the wind blows perfectly on it, but that velvet red lipstick on your mouth might be the death of me.
You went outside, took a cab, and went out, I waved my arm, and soon enough a cab passed by.
"Where to?" The man said.
"Follow that cab in front of you," He took off, it was sad, drivers these days don't even care for men like this, the ones that just order to do something like that, there were a lot of crazy people here, and I had to protect you from them.
I see you being dropped off at a crowded pub, I hand a good amount of money to the man, and he drives off, I see you go inside, and you find your mates, I sit across from you, not too close so that you can see me but, but not so far so I don't hear you. You hug each one of them and you sit in the booth next to Julie.
"What's the occasion?" You said, next thing, Julie turns and shows a sparkling diamond on her finger, "Luke, Luke, Luke!" You teased her in awe, you held her hand carefully, examining it up close to the ring, "It's stunning" You said with a kind smile, it was amazing how I wished to be that hand, the one you caressed with care.
"I wanna do something big for the bachelorette, and I don't know where to start, I mean..." It must be hard for you, everyone around you is married or has a serious more than the 2-year relationship you can't hold on to, everyone has a kid now, everyone turns 27 and suddenly they already have a house, a child, and a loving husband, I wouldn't be like that ever, things won't be like that with me, I promise, we can take it as slow and calm as you want, or maybe go fast, I can go both ways, I just have to wait for the moment I may finally introduce myself to you, maybe by tomorrow when you go out but it must be soon before you forget about that last Saturday night, and it looks like you are in the process of, you are emptying those glasses of wine like coke in a hot summer day.
"Ease up with the wine," Larissa says, "You're gonna end up embarrassing yourself like the last time, you always have to pull a seen," Here we go.
"What fuckin' scene?" You spit back, "I was tired and I had been wearing high heels for more than 2 hours, yes, I was drunk but it was a genuine accident" You were annoyed, why could no one understand that? Accidents happen, and it must be hard for you to stand that pain, if I had stayed over, I would've given you a lovely massage, and treated you the way you're supposed to, I'm starting to be not very fond of Larissa.
"Uhu, yeah, but do you remember the last time you went to that party and got so drunk you "accidentally" confused a cigarette with marihuana and cried in the street like a baby?" Larissa, you just had to make it worse, didn't you?
"Fuck off, I can do whatever the fuck I want, if you don't want to believe me that's fine, oh!... and a scene, Larissa, a scene is what you pull when you yell at everyone as if you were the fucking owner of everything and everyone" You took your purse and rushed out, I see that Julie went out to get you, so I discreetly follow her, and find you waving your arm for a cab.
"Wait, don't go," Julie says with a caring tone, "I know you're not ok, you can't lie to me, you know how Lari is..."
"But why does she have to be a fuckin' news flasher of everything I do, embarrassing me in front of everyone, making me look like I'm not fun to be around," Julie tried to hug you but you wouldn't let her near.
"You say some scary shit while you're drunk, that's the only thing I'm going to agree on, but I can see you're not ok," Intuitive, honest, and kind, good choice for a friend.
"He called me" Julie sighs, who is he? This is the prize of being old fashioned, just like me, that's another thing I like about you, you have a life, even if you spend time alone, you go out in the world instead of taking a picture of it and expose your life, you have a little life, but it's yours and only yours.
"What did he want?" You shrugged and searched for something in your leather purse, taking a cigarette, and desperately flicking the lighter on.
"He just asked how I was, while he's off... modeling and possibly fucking two to three girls every single night, and he asks me how I am, drunk and high, he's so... he's-" To find the right words to describe that wanker only made me think about the damage he must have done to you, come on, spill the name, "That's not really everything, he's just-"
"Part of everything" Julie answered back, hugging you close to her, a caring hug, sweet, I could take a picture of it, I'm glad there is Julie for you, "Go home, and text me when you get there," She holds her arm up, taking a cab for you and sending you back home, I did the same thing as before, and the man did as he was told. But the problem was, you didn't go home, you went to a nearby liquor store and bought more wine for yourself, you drank it straight from the bag and you plugged in your wired earphones to your phone, kicking your feet and humming to the music 'New Dawn Fades' by Joy Division, a sad post-punk classic, you should be glad I am here to be on the look for you as you waddle in the steers, an easy target, if anyone dared to do anything to you, well, you must be glad there is me.
You walked a few blocks to your house, but you didn't go in, you couldn't hold yourself up anymore, so you sat by the staircase, defeated since you were desperately looking for your keys in your little purse, and you stared into the empty dark street, and you cried, you kept crying so hard it makes me feel the need to go and help you, I didn't really think about what I was doing, you were desperate, and I was afraid of letting you stay outside like that, then you stood up, unpredictable as always, I see you taking a fast pace. What are you thinking about? Did you forget something? You walk a few blocks until you stay still on a crowded street, the cars on that street go by faster, and you stare into the void as the red lights flash before you in straight lines, your cheeks stained with black tears, the darkness takes you in like one of their children, your head wrapped up in horrible ideas, so dark they blind your eyes, so atrocious your mind can only find one way to make you see the light at the end, you can't find peace, your body is tired, your eyebags are heavy, and you don't feel like yourself, you've lost control and you murmur something over and over again under your breath like some sort of sick prayer...
"A loaded gun won't set you free"
I see you take a step forward, now standing on the pavement, my heart drops to my stomach, and I run to get you, the wind blowing my cap away, what are you doing? why are you doing this? I can fix it, I can fix you, I can help you, I'll make it all disappear, before you take another step, the bus coming your way was out to get you, and you closed your eyes, but I won't let you go like that, my hand grasps your shoulder tightly, and I pull you to my arms, you're cold, shivering, your wired earphones fall from your head and get tangled in your hair.
"Are you alright?" Your face is wet with tears, and you look at me with big eyes, flushed again from the embarrassment, but that sparkle, that little fucking sparkle just makes me so mad, I'd kill for you to see me like that over and over, your little nose red, your eyelids a bit puffy.
You quickly wipe your tears, "Erm..." You sniffed, and you stared into my face with a cute and educated smile, "No... I mean, yes... sorry, I'm just... I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry," You scan my face, the familiarity of it makes a grin spread on your lips, "If I sound like a creep please stop me, but, I think I know you" Your lips curl into a bigger smile, as you realize who I am, I am that man, I am the man who will always be there for you, "You're that guy I fell into the other day" I pretend as if am amazed over who small the world is.
"Hey you," You said to me with a smile.
"Hello you" We both look to our feet, and I feel some warmth creeping up me cheeks, "We gotta stop meetin' like this" I see you flush, looking at me through your lashes, you slowly bite your bottom lip as you brush your hair out of the way, flirty. You struggle to untangle your earphones from your hair, I take a step forward and gently untangle them.
"You just had to come and rescue me again huh? Who are you? Superman?" I hear your voice, and your laughter like a melody I would love to hear over and over again, gentle, a little deep, but beautiful, I can see that behind all of that dark makeup and those dark looks, you're a sweet but lost little girl.
"I'm Batman" You're laughing and blushing at my jokes, that means that you like me.
"I like your accent batman" That's nice to hear, some people say that it sounds too rough and I sound like a scumbag, but I'm glad your ears enjoy the sound of it.
"Thanks, love" You take a step forward, your eyes looking at mine and then at my lips, it's hard to breathe right now.
"What are you doin' so late, huh? Are you wearing your costume?" You tease me, and we begin to walk together, to nowhere, just where we want this conversation to take us.
"Sort of, and you?" You shrugged, what a hard night you had. I'm worried about you, you didn't need to apologize for "not thinking", we kept walking until the smell of food dilated our nose trails.
"Just went for some drinks with a couple of friends nothing too exciting... do you mind if we stop for some food?" My fantasies had become real, you wanted to get some street pizza, the nice old man smiling at you tenderly, he's nice, not creepy, just a nice man, you ask for two slices of pepperoni with Italian sausage and the man is nice enough to give you the most fresh and warm slices of pizza, "Here, it's on me... it's the least I can do"
"Thank you" You chuckled and waved it off, gosh I wish I could just freeze this moment forever.
"I should be thanking you..." You wait to hear my name, and I stay silent contemplating this moment for a second, this is how it starts.
"Alex" You shake hands with me as your tongue, teeth, and lips articulate your name, you have a lovely name, and I'm crazy about you, "Charmed" I hold my gaze at you as you slowly let go of me hand.
"So, what were your plans for the night before I had completely crashed them" Funny, dark jokes, sarcasm, you're really smart but you don't like showing it off, you make me laugh so much, it's clear we have the same humor, that's another reason as to why you're perfect for me and I am for you.
"Um... I thought about going out somewhere, anywhere, sometimes I can't sleep... I'm afraid of losing life by being a slave of me work, me house, everythin' but I found something exciting" You smile to yourself, and you smile at me, you see? We're perfect.
"I do that sometimes... whenever I can't sleep, I go to a bar and you know... try to meet new people, I hate having to post about it on social media though, everyone has their screens glued to their faces, and I just don't like that, I don't wanna breathe my phone, I wanna breathe air" If I were you I would write a whole book about this, I love that you think just like that, we can be people for once, and run around the world and make it ours, "What do you do for a living?"
"Music producer" You smiled at me, "And I have the gift of guessing people's favorite artists,"
"Really? What are mine's?" I have the chance to look at you confidently, I see you like that, I can see how fast your heart is going, how you try to calm it with your breathing, your chest rising and falling fast, as I stare into your eyes intensely making little goosebumps crawl like spiders, I hope you know how much I like you.
"Nancy, Lana... and summat dark like Joy Division Unknown Pleasures" You clap and you're amazed at how exact I am, I can smell it on you.
"Exactly, I love them," You began to hum their songs, dancing on the street, I follow your lead, as you spin, "I was listening to it a few moments ago" You turn dark again, I'm not going to let you, I immediately regret ever saying that, I don't know what that bloody song did to you, but you were listening to it before you attempted to get crashed.
"I'm glad I was there" Sweeten up, tell me what's wrong, I'm here for you.
"Yeah... me too, I wasn't thinking straight..." You clean your throat, you cross your arms, and furrow you're eyebrows, it makes you angry to say it, makes you sad, makes you frustrated, and even so since you watch me patiently waiting for you to tell me what happened to you, I didn't have to say it, you already knew "I don't think you would like to hear about my problems Alex, they're meaningless"
"Nothin' is meaningless just like us meeting tonight perhaps..." Shite, I take it back, I can see your face looking at me weirdly, but you smiled, you're fascinated? Did you like that?
"You're right," You warm up to me, I can see it in your body, I can see it in your face, I've given you no reason to not trust me, I'm harmless, I told you you can trust me, "But I want a ciggy, if you don't mind" You lean against a brick wall, your leg supporting your weight, I'm in love with your smooth and shiny legs, what's your secret?
"Mind if I steal one?" You say no with your head, you check your box again, and you curse in your head. The box has only one cigarette left.
"Sharing it is" You light your cigarette with your pink lighter, I can see some cute puppy stickers on it, you inhale the thick white smoke and exhale it, your whole body relaxing, feeling lighter, you feel calm, and you hand it to me, holding it between your index and your middle, you have a vintage silver rose ring in your middle, cracked red nail polish, and the cigarette butt was stained with your gorgeous red lipstick, I take it in between my lips, your lipstick tastes sweet like marshmallows, I savor it, Jesus, I hope I can taste your pretty lips soon.
"Talk to me," You sigh, and your mouth articulates each phrase, your voice tired and sad, I hear every detail of your story with care, a girl that can't control her alcohol, one that just wants to have fun, one that makes stupid mistakes but learns, I see beauty not only out but inside you, in your mistakes, in your intentions, in your life, you only got one, and you've made noble mistakes, I can see you're a whole woman, a hot and determined woman, but you have no road clear enough, no road to pick, you're chasing something you don't even know what it is.
"So now, I'm just trying to see what happens, I'm getting my degree soon, and then I'll keep working, maybe I'll start something on my own" Maybe if you don't love your work, at least you can come home back to me, I'll cook dinner, I'll wash your clothes, I'll set the table, I'll prep you a warm bath, I'll shower you, you won't move a single finger when you come home to me, "How's working as a music producer?"
"Oh, well, it's great... sometimes we have our differences but most of the time I just do what people tell me to do, in secret I make their music better, sometimes they don't notice and they just brag about how amazing was their idea" Your cigarette burns away into my fingers, I set it off into the wall and discreetly put it inside my pocket, you change the direction, we're going back, you're shamelessly eying me up and down, I swear if you don't stop...
"What are your favorite bands?" You're changing the subject, I don't like that, I don't like that you don't want to talk about what you've told me, but I keep you interested.
"Well... an old-time favorite is The Strokes" I answer firmly, you take out from your purse your earphones, plug them into your phone, and press play on the music as we walk together sharing your music, 'Call It Fate Call It Karma' on full volume.
"Might be basic for you, but I don't see a better song for this moment" You turn to face me, and we stop in the dark corner of the sidewalk, your eyes greedy and precious, that bloody spark in your dark eyes excites me, it's all in your eyes, I can see it clearly, I can see what you want from me, you blink slowly and wait for me to make the next move, and I don't doubt for a second, I close the space between us, and very gently press the palm of my hand to your warm cheek, it's warm and pink, staring into your eyes like stars in the black sky, kissing your lips, sweet as burned marshmallows in a bonfire night, you kiss me so softly at first, but you make that animal inside me come alive, I'm a man, I'm an animal, and I kiss your tender lips hungrily, I didn't expect for you to answer back with the same hunger, you feed me with your kiss, and your breath tastes like ecstasy, I'm a junkie, sweet sweet nicotine, I'm a chain smoker, "Take me home, Alex..."
"I'll take you anywhere you tell me, sweetheart" You grab my hand, fingers intertwined, and I feel 15 again, my palms are sweaty, my sweat is cold, and I feel so warm in my clothes, I can't wait to take them off, the anticipation getting the best of me, you make my dreams come true, and I'm so happy the world had chosen you to fall into my arms. I'm your protector, a guardian angel.
On the way home, we sneak to share some angsty kisses three or more times, you're getting me worked up, letting me touch you, grasping your hips, biting my lip, kissing my cheek, moaning my name into my lips, you're making my head spin. We walk up the stairs together, opening the door to your shelter, you have a lovely house, so clean that some things are allowed to be misplaced, it's big because you don't like having so many things out, your bed is on the other side of the wall were you living area is, the vague familiarity of it makes me feel like I'm imagining it all.
"This my girl cave, my crib" You joke, I take pictures of it in my head from bottom to top, every single inch, every place I imagine us being in, watching tele, cooking together, making a mess of the kitchen of course, dancing, fucking, scratching your wooden countertop, "What do you think?"
"It's-" We both get freaked out by the knocks at your door, some dickhead calling out your name, begging you to open the door, you roll your eyes, you know exactly who he is.
You swing open the door, cross your arms, and stand your ground, marking that he's not welcome here, you're strong, you're determined, go you! Show some teeth, "I don't wanna hear another one of your crazy fucking stories, tell them to your mother, Cameron" You were about to shut the door in his face but he stops it with his foot, that must've hurt Cameron, that's your ex isn't he? The one who made you cry, "Leave" You spit.
"I won't, you can't possibly ask for something like that... you and I know there's no one better than me, no better match than us" You stay silent, why are you thinking? why are you second-guessing? He takes a step forward, he's getting closer, you're face is a frown, you don't want him to touch you even though he keeps trying.
"I don't want you here, you must leave now Cameron, I want you out" He turns into hysteric laughter, he thinks you're crazy, he thinks you've lost your mind, well big shot, you're not it, Cameron only wants to hurt you with his words, he wants to make the most damage, he gets off at this, making you his only real standard, but Cameron will never treat you like you must be treated.
"Don't talk me to like that" I take his aggressiveness as a sign to take a step in, who the fuck does this wanker think he is to talk to you like that? You see that's a real scumbag, and I'll be his worst nightmare.
"Like what?" I come up from the back, cocky, sounding like a total prick, and I can see that you love it, when I sound like this, dominant, confident, "She's telling you to go, I'm telling you to fuck off. Now" I slam my voice at him, there are scary people in this world, there are men like Cameron, he has an intense gaze, but he wouldn't ever pick up a fight for anyone, yes... not even you, he's too vain, a narcissist, he is all bark but no bite, and then there are the men who would move mountains for their loved ones, he steps away, and I shut the door close, I can feel you shivering beneath my skin.
You stare at me, and I drag you in closer, that's what you like... you liked to be treated rough, you like being needed, I push your hips against mine, I can see it in your face, you've felt it, you've felt how hard my cock is, and it's hurting so fucking bad now, I can't wait for another second, I can't wait to take you to bed, you jump on me, wrapping your gorgeous soft legs on me, I decide to leave the first reminder of me on your kitchen table, laying your body on top of the cold wooden countertop for the first reminder of me and the things I'm about to do to you, my knuckles pull down your panties, ripping them off from your skin, your pussy glistening, bathed in your wetness, I can smell your flesh from the distance, like a predator and their victim, I'm a lion, "I'm gonna fuckin' tear you apart"
"Fuuuckin' please" You moan so loudly I bet it could be heard from across the street, and your voice shivers, I've barely even touched you yet, and you're already so wet for me, what are you thinking about? what's in your mind? I wish I could crack your skull open.
I lower myself in between your legs, I've been so busy admiring your body, the scent of the almond oil you rub on your smooth legs, I bet that you shaved them today, and I wonder what else have you shaved, your dress rides to your hips as you contortion under my touch, Jesus, you're desperate for it, but no, I want to enjoy you.
"Calm the fuck down, lay still and close your eyes" I order, and you stiffen up, staying quiet, and still, "Atta girl", I can finally see what's in between your gorgeous long legs, a pink and small pussy, Jesus, I bet you're so fucking tight by the looks of it, my ring and middle finger begin their assault, pressing down vertically against your clit, you hum and your hips writhe against me fingers, slowly, pushing them, you like that, rubbing yourself against them, and when I see you through the glass I lose my mind, I see how me fingers get coated and damped in your wetness, and I love watching you get so worked up by that, I can feel me cock just getting harder by the second, it's hurting and it's a pulsing pain, but I bare with it just for you, because now I'm going to show you how exactly you're supposed to get fucked.
I spread open your pussy, pink and warm, swollen clit I pinch in between me fingers, and you hiss but you only get wetter, if I pinched for a little longer you were sure coming all over the table. I open me mouth to taste your warm and savory juices, I suck and kiss your clit, picking up with my tongue your wetness, you're going to cum so good, I can feel it building up, you're in for a ride, and you've just begun to climb up the roller coaster.
"Oh... that's soo good" You gasp and sigh, I let my two fingers twist inside your pussy, me knuckles rimming your walls slowly, the bumpy and hard skin of my fingers make you gently fuck yourself into them, while I watch you with my tongue lapping over your clit teasingly, just those gentle touches make your legs shake, and your walls to contract, you're wonderful, you behave well, your hands slowly crawling into me hair, pulling it gently, your little whimpers get me worked up and I have to put in the biggest effort to not palm meself, I want you to feel every inch of me.
"You feel so lovely, babe doll" This feels so right, you bite on my lower lip, pulling my flesh until it bleeds. You're a sucker for my accent, you really are, you enjoy hearing me voice, doesn't it relax you? Doesn't it turn you on? I want to know what it is... I want to feel what it is, your legs keep shaking and your body keeps getting stiffer, your lower abdomen making pressure, and your walls are closing around me fingers, I shake them inside you, your mouth falls open, my lips sucking your clit harder and your body arches until I feel your cunt losing up, feeling your release leaking out of that tiny little hole, I'm eager to taste it, I eat your pussy eagerly, you know I'm hungry for it, my mouth eating your pussy like a soft and warm bun, and you taste just as sweet, just as good as I imagined, I won't let you rest, I will keep you on the limit. I drag you forward, making you kiss me lips, "Do you taste that? Taste how sweet you are... taste how good I ate you"
"And you're gonna fuck me just as good?" Your hand sneaks in between me legs, you love how hard my dick is for you, it makes you feel so thrilled, makes you feel good about yourself, and it makes you feel hot.
"You'll just have to wait a little bit longer, I'm not done with you" I'm certain about something, you're a kinky little shit, and I know you want something like this, I bend you over the kitchen table, and you're just ready for it, arching your back, spreading your legs, you're not putting a fight, my hand kneads your ass like dough, and spanks it hard over and over again, "You precious little thing, are you going to do everything I tell you to do?"
"No" You state firmly, earning another smack in your ass.
"Tell me summat..." I push my hips against your dripping wet cunt, that's oozing for another smack, "How much do you want it?" You sigh, rubbing your ass against my cock, you're killing me, you better stop now, the friction, the warmth, your goddamn smell, "Answer me you fuckin' cunt" You giggle, you do love it.
"I want you so bad" You whisper, no, I don't like that.
"Not enough" The smacks you earn are getting harder to bear, but you enjoy them, and so do I, you masochistic little shit.
"I need you inside me, Alex... I can't wait any longer" You rock your hips against mine, humping your naked pussy against my bulge, "Please..." You whimper so sweetly, I can't handle it any longer, I take off your dress, and you're wearing nothing but your tall black heels, looking like a fuckin' hooker, but I bet that's what you like.
"You want it you fucking slut?" You keep whimpering and rubbing yourself on me jeans, I bet that you've stained them already, "Come here" I turn you around and kiss you deeply, I can feel your hands unbuttoning my shirt as fast as you can, even in the heat of the moment you don't break my shirt but I couldn't care less, I take your hands and make fists ripping it apart and throwing it away, you're even faster to take out my jeans and leaving me on my boxers, that's the one good thing about me, I can see how your eyes lit up as you see how hard me fat cock is for you, you bite your lower lip and I pull you back up from your knees.
Time for reminder number two, the settee, I pull you up, and you sit in my arm until I put you back to the ground gently, I have to let you know that I was here, I need you to know how good I am, no other man could please you like that, I pull your leg up while you hold yourself up with the other, your pussy is so fucking wet my cock slides inside you so easily, I can feel the electric shocks that run all over your body, "Hard, please" You whine, I'm going to show you what hard actually is.
My hips thrust inside you so roughly the settee moves out of place, your nails dig into the cushions as I keep railing your tight hole harder, and you scream like bloody murder, I hope your neighbors don't call the police, I hope they can see how hard you're getting your cunt fucked, I want everyone that walks by to hear you, "You wanted hard babe!" You moan and scream, and keep getting your pussy pounded like meat being beaten up to get it tender. I dig your head into the pillows.
"Don't... d-don't-" Don't what?
"I can't understand you, babe, can you repeat that for me?" You pant trying to catch your breath, and your legs are numbing up, and I can see they've lost some strength, "Do you want me to stop, because I can" As I saw you didn't make a move, I began to pull out but you stopped, digging your nails into my wrist.
"Don't stop for fucks sake" Now for the next one, I stay buried inside you like that, you keep trying to fuck yourself into me cock but I just won't allow it, I pick you up once more, and your legs around my torso, and you press your warm chest against mine, I lean back against the giant bookshelf next to your bedroom door, you hold on into the shelves for leverage while I drive my cock inside you, your pussy feels so tight I wish I could let this last forever, I'll make that pussy mine.
"You want more, babe?" You hum and gasp, yes of course you do, you're loving every single inch of me cock, "God you look so beautiful with your mouth opened like that," I lick your bottom lip, "And that little cunt of yours is so wet for me, you're just making things harder for me..." I pushed meself too hard inside you, the shelf shook, and something hard dropped to the ground but you ignored it, you've lost yourself in my touch, and I feel embarrassed for dropping something. Your inner animal wakes up as I throw you into your bed.
I crawl on top of you but you gather up your strength to flip me over, I didn't expect that, you've taken the lead and I want to see you lose control, you writhe your hips into mine, your eyes facing the roof, and your mouth wide open, your hair falling into your head, you looked possessed, but you had lost the power to think about what you were doing, "For fucks sake" If you keep moving like that, you're going to make this end sooner, and I've already planned everything out, I try to sit up but you hold me down, chocking me so hard that it's almost impossible to breathe for me, but I love that feeling, my head feels light, my vision is blurry, but I'm not going to give in to you, I already have, you have got to give into me.
I flip you over so harshly, your head almost slammed against your headboard, "Listen to me you fuckin' cunt" My harsh tone makes your core shake, "You ain't the one on command, now... I don't wanna repeat meself" It's arousing you, I can feel it in between your legs, you're shamelessly getting wetter, "Don't make me repeat meself again" You love to play with me, I see that naughty little smile curling into your lips.
"You already did" You like to pull on my hair, don't you? And you will pay for that.
"Don't fuck with me" Your eyebrows push together and your little smirk makes me go mad.
"You know I love to" Love? You "love to"? Does this mean that you might love me? Even just a tiny bit?
"You do, huh?" I begin to rock my hips against yours, slowly, passionately, like a slow and steaming dance, I see your fingers grasping the sheets making hard fists, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into" And I'm not lying, you really don't.
"Show me Alex" You whisper to me those three words so sexily, charmingly, I've already lost my mind.
"I'll show you how a real man fucks you, babe," Your oozing with the thrill, "I'll show you how to behave... you little fuckin' cunt" Your mouth opens to moan and I take advantage of it to spit inside your mouth, both my hands chocking you, "You're mine... all mine"
"I'd love to" You whimper, "Make me yours please... please just do, I want you Alex" You keep asking me that with your little weak voice, your body that speaks to me, I can read it so easily, it tells me that I'm doing exactly what you want me to do, it shivers, and it quivers, and it sweats, it screams, it tightens, it stiffens, in your eyes I can feel your fast heartbeat in my fingers, and it goes just as fast as mine, my body against yours sounds like I'm butchering you, your neighbors must think I'm holding a knife against your throat, but it does go as deep, it does penetrate and it hurts you in the most magnificently and pleasingly way, your eyes red shot, and your voice gets quieter, shit, I'm losing you, I am.
"Wake up, wake up!" I scream to you, my hand patting your cheek lightly, your pulse is barely detectable, I slap you across your face and you gain back consciousness in the blink of an eye, I didn't want to do it, I would never do that, but when your lips curl into your devilish smile, I know see how you really are.
"Do that again Al" You tease me, I love it when you call me like that, no one ever really does that anymore, is that my new nickname? Al? You're going to remember me forever babe, I hope you do, and tomorrow when you wake up, I'm still going to be there, I'll make your breakfast, and I'll do anything you ask me to do, even dishes, you won't pick them up.
"You're mad, woman" You giggle, and you try to pick yourself up, I can't let you, I did knock you over completely, my hand very gently caresses your cheeks, it's red and fragile, it must burn or at least sting, "Let me do the kissing for now, babe"
"And the fucking too perhaps?" You smile at me, your cute little button nose is flushed, your cheeks and chest are red, your nipples are hard, it turned you on to this point, you're dark, what else are you not telling me? "I'm crazy about you" Those words will echo in my head for the rest of my days.
I take no rush into fucking you, I'm not just a guy you'll sleep with, I'm your man, and I wanted to make sweet sweet love to you, but you won't let me, you like it rough, hard, fast, I don't want this moment to be over, at least not for me yet, you can cum as many times as you like, and like the real man I am, I am profoundly true to the saying 'Happy wife, happy life'
I hug you close to me, that's the least I can do, if I'm going to lose control, let my heart tell yours how much I love you, even if you dump me like a puppy, I'll stay loyal, I'll follow your scent everywhere, I will forever remember the scent of your vanilla hair, your Dior perfume, and the golden necklace around your neck, I counted 15 moles on your body, even the one in between your legs, my hands grab your hair into fists as I pound you harder and harder, you're losing your mind and I'm losing control again, your bed squeaks so loudly and the headboards slams against the wall so harshly, but I don't stop I can't stop now, I can feel you, I can feel it coming, you bring yourself to an end again, the palm of my hand slowly adds pressure on your lower belly, to ease you up, the bed keeps squeaking so annoyingly, and even after we ignored the several warnings, the legs of your bed broke and your headboard fell to the ground, we both break into laughter.
"Oh God!" Your little laughter is so bubbly and funny, it makes me smile and feel so ashamed at the same time.
"I'm so sorry, I'll pay for that" You rub the tip of your little nose against mine, and look at me tenderly, your fingers caressing the back of my head, if only you could see the hearts in my eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous... you know, I've never broken a bed before... you're not going to be easy to forget batman, I hope you don't disappear into the night soon" I'll get you off first, but there's one thing you should be certain of.
"I never intended to" Was that too much? Sorry if that was too much, maybe it was... maybe it wasn't, I'm having a hard time reading your face right now, you're looking at me very seriously, I don't want to get my hopes up, but you're killing me, I should focus now, finish the deed, "But I'm still sorry about your bed though"
"Shut the fuck up, and keep fucking me" Whatever she wants, whatever she wants... You're already the song on the radio I got stuck in me head.
I pull us closer to the safest edge of your bed, toss your legs over me shoulders, and bend them over, I lean over and pound the living shit out of you, I was balls deep inside you, and you like it, so much that you dig your nails into my back, scratching my skin until red and bloody, I don't care how much it hurts, leave as many marks as you want, the deeper the better, my hair falls over my forehead and you make the kindest gesture, your brush it back with your long nails, even if by now I'm sweating like a pig you keep bringing me closer to you, I can feel the light tingles of you breathing in me face, of you biting down on my golden chain making laugh, making me go insane, I keep pushing harder, and you throw your head back, almost letting go of me, but I won't let you, I'll send you to heaven if you want, but don't leave without me.
"Oh, Alex... I'm so close, please..." Your eyeballs turn into beautiful glossy pearls, and you crumble down into pieces as you coat my cock in your warm release, I can feel your walls pushing it out and running down your cozy hole, I stay buried inside you, watching your mouth fall open and choke out your last orgasms, they spin in my head like a tiny little music box, "You're next, Alex... you can't end things like that... you know how much I want it, you already did so much for me" Wait, what are you doing?
Your hands run up my chest, and you massage my shoulders, "You really want me to breed you, you greedy little fuck?" Your hands go down and you massage my balls, Jesus, you really do, I bet you're not even aware of what you're doing to me... or are you?
"Yes Alex, use it... use me" You know exactly what you're doing, I drag my cock out just rimming your walls once again, I better start warming you up, but you don't want that now, you're thinking about me, about what I want, you deserve a little star on your forehead for being so caring, a man and its needs, it's nothing compared to your needs, and I bet you needed someone to get you off correctly.
"You're mine... I want you to say it" I promised to you since the beginning, I won't stop until you're mine, "Are you mine?" I look at you with my big eyes full of hope for you to say it, please tell me now.
"I'm yours Alex" My lips taste your mouth, your tongue dancing with mine. You're made of the sweetest poison
God, I remember that time I was watching through your window, that night you were laying down on your settee, your hand was vigorously and shamelessly rubbing your clit in circles, fucking your little cunt with two fingers, rocking yourself into your touch with the desperate need to rub yourself against something hard, just like you were rubbing yourself against me hard cock. You keep squeezing my balls, your hands sneak into my ass squeezing it gently to keep me going, you love having me right at the edge of ending it all, I can't keep it up for another moment anymore, you're big stary eyes, your little sparkles, your touches, the smell, the noises, you're begging for me cum, I slam my fist next to your head, dragging your body up as I push myself deep inside you and coat your walls in me creamy cum, you're pure bliss as I feel us both coming together, a gorgeous after bliss surrounding us, you have this certain smell, a certain heat, and you're just so beautiful with your cheeks flushed like that.
"Let me clean you up, it's me mess, just lay down" You nod your head, laying gently on your broken bed to not let it crash completely into the ground, you point your finger telling me where the toilet is, and I rush there to grab a few paper towels and clean your skin softly, soothingly, I can feel you relaxing, I can smell my body in yours, the smell of my cologne, your almond oil, and your pheromones. And when I'm done you grab my hand and I can see you thanking me for even that tiny gesture, that's nothing you should be thanking me for, that's the least.
"Now the question is... where are we going to sleep?" We? You want me to sleep here, with you? You're not quicking me out, or at least not yet, this is my chance and I would be lying if I didn't say I was the luckiest man alive.
"Maybe the settee would be a nice place" Your gorgeous olive green settee, corduroy, soft, and marked, I can see you smiling at the space in between your two cushions, I see your giant ivory bookshelf, another mark. I lean forward to pick up what I had dropped when we assaulted the shelf, but it wasn't one of the thousands of vinyl records you've got organized by letter, it's a case... a guitar case. I didn't know that about you. Tonight made me realize that you're a hat full of surprises, the deeper I search the more I find.
"Want some food?... I've got some nuggets and fries... and-" You close your fridge and turn to look at me, "Oh, you know how to play?" I nod my head, trying to stay as noble and humble, you smack your hand into your forehead, "Of course, you do," You sigh and I can hear you whispering to yourself, "Stupid question"
"And do you?" You hum as a yes, interesting, I bet you do, but why do you hide your guitar like that? As if it was buried in this beautiful world with music, colors, words, and meanings.
"I did..." You turn on your air frier and toss some nuggets and fries in there, I'm so happy that you're not like one of those crazy keto girls, you pour us some fresh orange juice as you keep talking to me, "But you know, my mom always told me 'that's just a hobby', and when I moved here I hoped to find some people that wanted to share this fire to try to make some music... but I never managed to, and then I just gave up"
"That's a bit sad, love... you shouldn't have" You lean over the kitchen countertop, amazing reminder, I see you smiling over the edge of your shoulder, but you turn to look at me as you pick up some of our clothes, and then you run into my shirt and you decided to wear it as your sex shirt, you look beautiful, "I mean, being a music producer and making it was hard, but it was even harder to follow something I'm not passionate about" That's what's wrong, you didn't follow your passion, that's what you're missing, "Have you got any songs?" Your face lights up but it quickly slips away, and the redness crawls into your face, What? I'm trying to help you, I want you to be happy with me and with your life.
"I can't accept that" You quickly answered, your head said no but I know you want this, it's served on a silver platter, why can't you let your reserved self accept this?
"Accept what? I haven't said anything, I just asked if you could sing for me... I know you have a lovely voice" You laugh sarcastically at me, leaning over to fetch your guitar, and searching for a notebook on your vinyl shelf.
You sit next to me, legs crossed, guitar on your lap, naked with just my shirt on, your knees holding your notebook as you search for the perfect page for me, you make sure that your guitar is tuned before you start and your thumb softly strums down the notes, making a lovely rhythm, and only two chords, C and Em, your voice sounds like a million angels, and I feel like a lost man after serving the purgatory, your voice is so hauntingly beautiful, your lyrics are very forward, and I'm happy to know through your lyrics how truly you feel about things, you don't search for big words you choose the right ones, you're bold, and you're wise, you try to put an end to your complicated feelings, your questions, everything, all in one song with a few strums and two simple chords.
"That's all," You say putting your guitar next to you, I'm blown away, "I know I suck"
"No!" I answer immediately, "You don't... I think it's beautiful"
"You're just saying that because..." No, I'm not just saying that because I want to fuck you, no not at all, don't you ever believe that.
"I'm saying that because I think you've got it, and you don't want to quit everything to live your dream, I know it must be difficult... but I'm being truthful, you've got summat and we can work on it" Why do you keep saying no with your head? Stop that, if I could rip it off right now... no, don't think that, "Come on, I'm not takin' a piss" You break into laughter with me, throwing your head back, you jump up the moment your oven dings and you run to flip the nuggets and the fries, putting 10 more minutes into the oven.
"Takin' a piss" You laugh to yourself, "Well, if you're not takin' a piss" You imitate my accent and it sounds so silly when you try to do it, "I'm not accepting your help Alex, you have your own thing, and if I'm going to do this, I have to do it on my own," Perfect, I'll take that.
"Why don't you go to Panda's next Saturday? They're looking for some people to play some music, any style, any theme, you can do whatever you want... I'm sure everyone will love you, and you know, there's always someone on the hunt for summat fresh!" I see you thinking about it, I'm not saying I'll help you, I'm just offering the start of something great for you, this is it for you. And yes, I am going to get you the best deal you could ever imagine, but first I have to run things through your notebook, I secretly hide your baby pink notebook, your initials written with a black sharpie, and I stash it in between the cushions.
"I'll think about it" I'll think about it. I hope you do go, I can't wait to see you singing for everyone, you will charm them, "Dinner is served me lord" You're also a dork, just like me, imagine all of the jokes we can make together, they'll be endless.
"My! Thank you, very kind" Dinousor nuggets with a side of fries, the melancholic feeling of your childhood must be present every single day, you squeeze some Ketchup into my plate, squirting into my chest.
"Whoops! Let me clean that for you" You lean in, sticking out your tongue to lick off the ketchup from my chest, "Eat up!" I'm in love with you, "And then we'll get on with that" You look down, and I do the same, shite, look what you do to me, you make me get so hard like a little boy hitting puberty.
"Bugger" I whisper under my breath, you heard it since you giggled, "You know, I think the food can wait right?" You push your plate away and you immediately crawl on top of me, kissing my lips so tenderly, caressing my chin with your fingers, and enjoying the texture of the little hairs that are growing on me cheeks.
"Mmm ketchup" You laugh into the kiss, and our teeth collide accidentally, and us by casualty, "You taste yummy"
"Imagine yourself" You blush hard, something tells me no one has ever made you feel that good about yourself, and that's because no one will see you with the same eyes as me, you're my girl, you will be, I try to flip you but instead you stop me, have I done something wrong?
"We're not going to break this couch, I love this fucking couch, you understand that?" You firmly said, your eyes threatening to kill me if I do as such, "I'm on top" I squeeze your ass tightly biting my bottom lip.
"Whatever she wants... but if I broke the bed it's 90% your fault," You scoffed and laughed as I peeled my shirt from your body gently, making sure I don't break more buttons so you could keep it, "Because you feel so good, and maybe you could be on top, but I know sooner or later... you'll be the one giving into me" Quite intense, wasn't I? Fuck!
"But for now, it's me who calls the shots, so if we break this... it will be 98% your fault, how do you like me now, smarty?" You secure your arms around my shoulder, I pull you in, chest on chest, as I give myself a few more strokes before you slowly slide down my cock, moaning so gently, I like feeling every part of you, I can see how your body twists and shivers when I hit that sweet spot.
"How do you like that?" I rub it in your face, how good I'm making you feel, "I guess one round just wasn't quite enough for you," You start humping on my cock slowly, you're just teasing me again, but I enjoy feeling your body move against mine, your little cries and moans, everything piles up in me, I know this time I'll enjoy you, picture you going in slow motion, I can feel your rapid heartbeat, I can feel the heat wave that raises and wrap us in, I can feel your body begging to mine to stay as close as possible, because that's what your body and my body want, we smile, we laugh, and I fall deeper in a hole full of love for you, and I'm no donkey to use the dirt to get out, I rather stay buried deep inside you just like now. Your body is tired, it's been two hours since your legs worked for the last time, and you beg for more into my ear.
"You're so good, I-I don't understand" What don't you understand, babe? Your fingers intertwine in the back of my head, as you writhe your hips to mine, our bodies dancing together so wonderfully, your hips move in circles against mine.
"Neither of those assholes could ever come close to me, I'm a real man..."
"And you've got the size" You flirt with me so shamelessly, your walls keep dragging me in, your head falls into my shoulder, you're giving into me, fading into me, and it's me time now, I finally get to give you what I wanted since the beginning, make sweet and honest love to you, my hands on your thighs I keep driving your body against mine, I gently bounce you on me lap just to get you to stay up again, you're eyes are shutting, your mouth is falling open again.
"Look at me" I order, and you do what I tell you to do, you look at me towards your end, I hope you can read it in my eyes, I hope you can feel how warm the flesh is, how my eyes, my brain, and heart have no space for anyone else but you, how mad you've made me, I'm obsessed, and I'm not going to lie to myself about it anymore, I don't want to just use you, I hope you can see that, but if you can't, I hope this is enough for you to understand it, my eyes big and dilated for you, my body feels so stiff, it's overwhelming, "You're so beautiful, love"
"If you keep calling me that, you're gonna make me fall in love, Alex"
So I'll say it every single day for the rest of my life, you feel so good on me, your body fits into mine so perfectly, and I'm so close, and so are you, the flesh is tender, the flowers bloom, the sun rises and it's heat rains all over the world, and you and I bond together for one last time before your body crashes into mine, I make a mess, but that's a bit on purpose, "Ah, yes" You sigh into my ear as you let it rest on top of mine. I have the chance to clean your body once more, to clean you up with care and love, my touch is so gentle your body fills with goosebumps, "You really don't have to Alex" You put your hand on my hand, and I freeze, should I stop? Am I making you uncomfortable?
"Sorry... if I'm doing too much" Your eyebrows push together and before I can get away you drag me back by my wrist and smile at me. What do you think of me?
"No, I'm just..." You sigh, you're troubled by your thoughts, "Not used to the 'aftercare' part that's all, you know, sex for us girls... it's not like we see it in films, or read in books, maybe I don't have that magic to turn a beast into a prince, and... I just I dunno, I don't feel weird... you make me feel special, normally, they just leave" Are you... maybe falling for me?
I smile at you, my thumb grazes your cheek softly, "I'm a man, and I'm messy but I just don't like doing that there's an attraction, and if we have sex, unless you ask me to leave I'll leave" I put away the paper towels in the trash, and when I come back I find you waiting for me with my shirt on your body.
"Well, if that's the case" My heart pumps one thousand miles per hour, I feel I'm entering a trance, about to puke my intestines out if you ask me to leave, "You don't mind staying?"
Fuck yeah! "Not at all" I try to keep me cool but I just can't, my heart betraying as I lay down with you.
After we finally had the chance to close our eyes, the sun peeks through the curtains of your windows, the sky painted orange and ocean blue, you smile at me, and you get back up from our little love nest that was the settee, you're quick to find the vinyl with the song we were listening together, the song we kissed to, the perfect song to watch the sunrise.
"Come with me!" I've never heard you so excited before, you run to the kitchen and fetch my boxers from the ground, and I'm a bit troubled by the thought of me wearing my jeans with no underwear but I do nevertheless because I would kill to see you like that every single day.
I cover my body with my coat, and you grab my hand, we run out of your house, and we go through this tiny little white gate, into a garden covered in green chasmophyte, that's the place where the flowers bloom in little boxes of dirt, the perfect place to see the sun, the perfect place to hide, to dream in, it's wonderful, you pull out a chair for me in this old rusty table, you find place to put your music and we listen to Call It Fate Call It Karma as the sun rises from the horizon, I pull you to my lap, wrapping your legs around my arms and hum the song to your ear, the birds are chirping, and the sun warms us from the once oh so cold night.
"You're a lovely singer," You say to my ear, I was never one to watch sunrises, I haven't done that since I was 17, and now with my busy life, I finally get to taste this little piece of paradise that you've given me.
"Not as good as you, bunny" You kiss my nose with a big smile, and I take out from my jeans a box of cigarettes and my old zippo, you set on my smoke, and you love to play with my zippo as your hands run through my naked skin, you love playing with fire, don't you? I just hope someday, you don't get burned in the fire of my love.
A/N
Anon, I want to kiss you. You don't know for how long I've been trying to figure out how to write this chapter, I had to watch You again but it was totally worth it, so thank you!
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highseas-swede · 7 months
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Aziraphale and Trauma
[Just a note that I initially wrote this in response to this post: https://www.tumblr.com/theangelyouknew/732357015604756480?source=share&ref=_tumblr which is full of insightful info. I'm reposting my response here with some minor edits so it's easier to find in tags.]
This is something I actually find interesting within the fandom, because there seems to be this weird divide in fandom when it comes to Aziraphale.
See, I love Aziraphale. I think he's an amazing and well nuanced character, but a lot of the time fandom boils him down into this really simple version of himself. This happens both with people who dislike him and claim he's a bad person as well as with those who want to soften him up and make him more palatable. Aziraphale isn't the only one who has trouble with black and white thinking here!
Things like Coffee Theory remove Aziraphale's agency because the thought of Aziraphale doing something to hurt Crowley deliberately is something they can't stomach. If Aziraphale is acting under some kind of major magical influence, it means that it's possible to brush over the fact that he can - and has - hurt Crowley in the past and it certainly hasn't always been accidental.
There's a lot of Psychology I could touch on here, but it's honestly such a complicated topic that I don't really feel I can do it justice attached to a completely different topic.
But one thing I do want to touch on a bit is how Aziraphale asserts control in his own life via his connection with Crowley, and that touches on something equally complicated, which is something that's probably hard to understand.
Abuse victims are often manipulative.
I don't mean this at all as some kind of slight or insult. I've been an abuse victim myself and it's one reason I know it's true.
Fandom talks a lot about Crowley's trauma and he's got loads, to be sure. I think of that meme about "this bad boy can fit a lot of trauma" and it's very true. I've even seen people mention that Aziraphale has a different kind of Trauma than Crowley, which is also true.
What I haven't seen is someone addressing that the type of religious trauma is a form of CPTSD. CPTSD or "Complex PTSD" is a very specific form of PTSD. PTSD is characterized as being the result of a traumatic event - Crowley's fall, for example, is a good example of PTSD and I can go into that at some point. CPTSD is different because it's not a singular event, it's the result of being in a constant high stress situation. A lot of abuse victims - especially those abused by parental figures or significant others - have this form of PTSD.
A good way to see the difference is in comparing how they relate to their trauma. When Crowley thinks he's lost Aziraphale in S1, it sends him into a spiral. But importantly we see that this traumatic event is causing Crowley to go back to another traumatic event in time, triggering his memories of his fall. This emphasizes how much Crowley's fall defines his trauma. We rarely see him experiencing trauma at the hands of Hell, as he's mostly allowed freedom to handle his job on earth the way he wants.
https://cptsdfoundation.org/ defines CPTSD as "the results of ongoing, inescapable, relational trauma. Unlike Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD), Complex PTSD typically involves being hurt by another person. These hurts are ongoing, repeated, and often involving a betrayal and loss of safety."
In humans, this is caused by having no sense of safety in key moments of development. It strips away sense of self, sense of worth and really any agency. We even see the angels using direct gaslighting tactics on Aziraphale in S2, which I'm surprised doesn't get mentioned more often: When they come to the bookshop looking for Gabriel, they mention Gabriel and then almost immediately when Aziraphale asks "you were looking for Gabriel", Uriel outright says a line that goes something like "Did we say we were looking for Gabriel?", leading Aziraphale to fumble and try to remember if they did, in fact, say that at some point (they did).
So, one big thing to know about CPTSD and this kind of abuse related trauma is that learning to lie and be manipulative is often what people have to do to survive. Children with abusive parents will learn how to be manipulative in order to get what they need or avoid losing things they need.
We see this with Aziraphale, time and time again. He could just ASK Crowley for things he wants. A lot of people point out that he could ask and that Crowley would probably give in to him most of the time anyway. But that's not how it works in an abusive home. Instead, Aziraphale maneuvers Crowley into situations where Crowley is forced to give him what he needs or wants.
His lack of agency, as a result of his CPTSD, is also why he needs to be worked into making decisions that he already knows - or at least suspects - are right. That's why they have their little dance every time Crowley has to talk Aziraphale into something by finding the right way to frame it so it makes sense with Aziraphale's strict rule structure. These rules exist as a defensive mechanism too. Having rules makes it easier to figure out how to avoid being hurt and Aziraphale cannot simply step outside the rules because it's Not Safe. Not even with someone he trusts as much as Crowley.
The entire apology dance scene stands out for a few reasons. Everything Aziraphale does in the entire scene is an act that allows him to take control of the situation. He's already won, so to speak, because Crowley is back and Crowley is going to do what he wants. The apology is unnecessary on every level.
This post talks about how uncomfortable Crowley has to be sharing a space with Gabriel. Gabriel is with the abusive team, whether or not he was directly involved with Crowley's fall. Crowley also harbors a severe distress and mistrust of Gabriel because of Gabriel's attempts to destroy Aziraphale, the most important person to Crowley. But it's worth noting that Aziraphale is uncomfortable too.
Another good indicator of how stressed Aziraphale is with all this is that he doesn't eat ANYTHING when Gabriel is in the shop. The only food he consumes in modern era is when he's in the Bentley which is a "safe" space. Gabriel constantly hounded Aziraphale over eating and despite offering Gabriel hot chocolate, we don't see him partaking himself. He does briefly drink to demonstrate how "drinking tea" works for Muriel, but he doesn't seem to drink from his cup at all after demonstrating.
The bookshop is also Aziraphale's safe space, his ONLY safe space - Crowley still technically has the Bentley, and honestly I feel like Aziraphale wanting to borrow the Bentley is actually partially because he needs to get away from Gabriel and the Bentley is the only place that feels safe for him at the moment. Shax ruins any illusion of safety for him, but Aziraphale is much more enthused for his trip in ep3 and a fair amount of it is because he's not trapped with Gabriel.
A small note here, as a thought occurs to me. Aziraphale asserting that the Bentley is "our car" is probably mostly for himself. He's trying to realign his thinking to make the Bentley an acceptable "safe space" for himself prior to the trip.
There is a very different relationship dynamic when it comes to Gabriel and Aziraphale because Gabriel is the constant source of Aziraphale's trauma. He's Aziraphale's superior, the one he has to report to, the one who passes down his missions and his punishments. When Aziraphale takes Gabriel in, he's just invited his former abuser of over 6000 years into his safe haven. This is a hugely uncomfortable thing for an abuse survivor.
Worst of all, because Jim is, for all intents and purposes, NOT Gabriel, Aziraphale can't bring himself to lash out at his former abuser the way he wants to.
That brings us back to this apology scene.
There are two major things going on here and both of them are bad and hurtful toward Crowley. They're also both intensely unfair. I love Aziraphale but this was definitely a dick move.
Firstly: Aziraphale is using Crowley to reassert a sense of control over the situation because he is spiraling. He can't assert control over his life and his shop, which is one thing that he falls back on heavily, and that leaves him scrambling to find somewhere where he can control his situation. He makes Crowley go through this whole unnecessary apology and dance routine because it makes him feel like he has control over SOMETHING in his life right now.
Secondly: Aziraphale is also enacting his own trauma on Crowley. He's treating Crowley the way Heaven treats him. This is a direct parallel to the way Crowley terrorizes his house plants because he can't do anything to the people who actually caused his trauma. This is, obviously, wildly unfair of Aziraphale to do - and I'm fairly sure there are other small moments where Aziraphale does this in a mild way, I'd have to rewatch again.
These are both behaviors common in CPTSD caused by environments that apply this constant state of stress.
I'm not going to say it's right, or that Aziraphale isn't being a bit of a bastard in this moment - he absolutely is - but this behavior does have some obvious triggers that might be easy to overlook. It's just important to understand that Aziraphale is falling into self-preservation habits that are actively detrimental to his relationship with Crowley. It's not just the manipulation, he's also hiding things and lying to Crowley when he really shouldn't be - both things often necessary in abusive environments - but he's doing it because that's the method that he's created that works with his abusive relationship in Heaven and he's falling back on it because he feels unsafe. The trouble is, this survival tactic does not work with Crowley and actively makes things worse because it shuts down open communication entirely.
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toomanywatchers · 1 month
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My Thoughts on WatcherTV
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Hi, I am here to put away my meme-making skills to express my genuine thoughts on Watcher’s announcement; WatcherTV. Before I get into it, this is for any of those at Team Watcher who might be seeing this message: Just know we love and support everything you do for us. Y’all truly do not get the credit you rightfully deserve. I hope with this change to a separate streaming platform you guys can create the content you want to make, pull in creators that you’ve always wanted to work with, and share voices/topics that may have not had the chance to shine because of YouTube’s heinous algorithm. I know myself, and many others, are excited to see what WatcherTV brings. For instance, I already watched Road Files and the trailer for Travel Season on the new platform. And guess what? I love it! I just love BTS-centric shows and seeing the vibes established on Travel Season. Along with more Lizzie/possibly-more-sightings-of-other-Team-Watcher-peeps content?!? If this is what holds for the future of WatcherTV- oh boy, do you already have me more on board than I already was.
I also send my sincerest regards too. We all know that the internet can be a negative space with many sharing their uncensored thoughts, and I hope none of you take the hate to heart. I also hope you can take the weekend to breathe, drink some water, spend time with loved ones, and celebrate this huge step you all are embarking on. I am truly excited to see what is to come on WatcherTV will be there with each step to support.
Now to my fellow fans of Watcher. I understand the concern and it is okay to have concerns. It shows that you truly care for Watcher as a company and don’t want anything negative to come about with this decision. BUT on the other hand, spreading hateful messages? Not. Fucking. Cool. It is quite simple to express concern in an appropriate/respectful manner. Remember, this is a company full of living and breathing human beings. Trying to justify “who is to blame” and pointing fingers is just childish. Guess what? No one is to blame, it was a company-wide decision that they all made and spent months upon months to create.
Yes, it does suck to see content that was free for years be moved to a paywall, but remember they are independent artists that have to pay employees, freelancers, locations, and themselves! Have we not been advocating for fair pay among creative individuals when it comes to WGA/SAG-AFTRA strikes and then AI art taking jobs away from artists? If this is what the company needs to do to survive while not sacrificing the high-quality content they make for us, then we should give it a shot! Plus with the current discount available, the subscription is not that pricey for the amount of shows they produce! Literally for January and a bit of February, they were uploading 2 podcasts and 2 separate shows… that’s a lot of content! If you have never sat down to produce, direct, write, perform, edit, and all other aspects it takes to make a fine-polished YouTube video, it takes a lot of work!
To add to this, Watcher already makes content that far expands past what is recognized as normal for YouTube. They build individual sets for each show that is produced, and they travel all over the place for Ghost Files and soon-to-be Travel Season. It costs money to produce content and YouTube?- It’s just not how it was years and years ago. Views on long-form content have been dipping and with the over-saturation of sponsorships, I am assuming they are not making enough profit to sustain the business on the current platform. Also, monetization on YouTube has been a killer for many channels because of vulgar language issues and just being demonetized for no rhyme or reason. By moving over to a streaming platform of their own they can continue to create what they want to create, and make it without any restrictions or rules holding them back. Too pricey? Find some friends who also like the content and split the pricing evenly. Only want to watch certain shows? Then make a monthly subscription for the time that show airs. There are many solutions that you guys see as a huge problem, and don’t get me wrong I have my concerns. I shared those concerns briefly in my theory post about them still being a young channel, but I’m also unaware of the actual analytics and revenue that is currently being brought in currently to the company from YouTube alone. 
It’s a huge step that has garnered negative feedback from those spreading hateful messages about the company and to other individuals for supporting the boys *cough cough I see your messages and comments cough cough* is truly uncalled for. I will be taking a bit of a break from my socials as I wait out the storm though if I have the energy, I might stream on Twitch again and talk through this with y’all if you can sit down and have a civil discussion. As for now, it’s your choice if you continue to support. My goal is to continue to make funny little memes, and if I am allowed to I will be working on a crack video pt.2 after Travel Season premieres. Remember to be kind and to put yourselves in their shows. Just the boys even though they are receiving the brunt of the hate, but for everyone at the company.
Your local memester watcherina - Fritz.
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mcflymemes · 10 months
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PROMPTS FROM RED, WHITE & ROYAL BLUE *  assorted (and slightly adapted to suit this meme format) dialogue from the book by casey mcquiston, adjust as necessary
on purpose. i love him on purpose.
i've always thought of myself as a problem that deserved to stay hidden.
i'm going to have you offed. you'll never see it coming.
take anything you want and know you deserve to have it.
get in there.
you're literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state.
before you, i was all right letting everything happen to me.
i can't believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are.
sorry, are we not? did i skip ahead again?
you've been warned.
he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock.
my life is a cosmic joke and you're not a real person.
hey, have i told you lately that you're brave?
i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose.
we're gonna make it work. you and me and history, remember?
if you finish that sentence, i'm gonna spend tonight in jail.
but the truth is, also, simply this: love is indomitable.
i actively wish for the sweet release of death.
yes, good, carry on.
i won't hear a word against it.
we're gonna do it together.
i said you look great, baby!
i meet you in every dream, and when i wake i cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness.
i'm so in love i could die.
you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse.
i wonder if it's too late to swan dive off the roof.
i'm learning all your hidden depths today, sweetheart.
you must invent an entirely new system.
a curious thing about grief is the way it takes your entire life, all those foundational years that made you who you are, and makes them so painful to look back on.
he's proof that it doesn't matter where you come from or who your family is.
i've bloody well had it!
we can unpack the ironic symbolism later.
that's beyond our sense of decorum!
i'm not afraid of anything i feel. i'm afraid of saying it. i'm only afraid of what happens when i do.
aw, you do care.
if there's any legacy for me on this earth, i want it to be true.
straight people probably don't spend this much time convincing themselves that they're straight.
the moment you first called me a prick, my fate was sealed.
you are the absolute worst idea i've ever had.
should i tell you that when we're apart, your body comes back to me in dreams?
can you perhaps stop putting your sodding life in danger now?
what are we even defending here?
history will remember us.
when i sleep, i see you.
i hate this so much.
every person who bears a legacy makes the choice of a partner with whom they will share it with.
we're just gonna fucking fight.
he is my choice.
i can appreciate that maybe this isn't your fault.
i've been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mom.
when i wake up in the morning, it feels like i've just been with you.
i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache.
your spine's a ridge i'd die climbing.
for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all.
the phrase 'see attached bibliography' is the single sexiest thing you have ever written me.
i promise you, one day we'll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else.
give yourself away sometimes, sweetheart. there's so much of you.
i want to set myself on fire, but i can't afford for anyone to see me burn.
you see, for me, memories are difficult.
never tell me the odds.
i wish there weren't a wall.
jesus christ, it's like they can see into your soul.
you're it, okay? i'm never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you.
i'm finished. i don't care.
god, i want to fight everyone who's ever hurt you.
the whole world watched, and history remembered.
are you quite finished?
just so we're clear. i'm about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family.
you insane, hopeless romantic little shit.
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pathos-logical · 2 years
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How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)
Plain text: How to Keep Doing Descriptions (from someone who does a fuckton)
This is a list aimed mostly at helping people who already write IDs; for guides at learning how to do them yourself, check my accessibility and image description tags! I write this with close to two years of experience with IDs and chronic pain :)
Get used to writing some IDs by using both your phone and your computer, if you can! I find it easier to type long-form on my laptop, so I set up videos and long comics on my phone, which I then prop up against my laptop screen so I can easily reference the post without constantly scrolling or turning my head
I will never stop plugging onlineocr.net. I use it to ID everything from six-word tags to screenshots of long posts to even comic dialogue! On that last note, convertcase.net can convert text between all-caps, lowercase, sentence case, and title case, which is super helpful
Limit the number of drafts/posts-to-be-described you save. No, seriously. I never go above 10 undescribed drafts on any of my four blogs. It doesn’t have to be that low, but this has done wonders (italics: wonders) for my productivity and willingness to write IDs. If I ever get above that limit, even if it’s two or three more, I immediately either describe the lowest-effort post or purge some, and if I can't do that then I stop saving things to drafts no matter what. No exceptions! Sticking to this will make your life so much easier and less stressful
My pinned post has a link to a community doc of meme description templates!
Ask! For! Help! Please welcome to the stage the People’s Accessibility Server! It’s full of lovely people and organized into channels where you can request/volunteer descriptions and ask/answer questions
I make great use of voice-to-text and glide typing on my phone to save my hands some effort!
Something is always better than nothing!!! A short two-sentence or one-sentence ID is better than no ID at all. Take it easy :)
If you feel guilty about being unable to reblog amazing but undescribed art, try getting into the habit of replying to OP’s post to let them know you liked it! This makes me feel less pressured to ID absolutely everything I see
This is a sillier one, but I tag posts I describe as "described" and "described by me." When saving to drafts, I never preemptively tag with "described by me," since for some reason that always makes me feel extra pressure and extra stress. Consider doing something similar for yourself if that applies!
I frequently find myself looking at pieces of art which feel like they need to be considered for a bit before I can write an ID for them, and those usually get thrown into drafts, where the dread for writing a comprehensive ID just builds. Don’t do that! Instead, try just staying in the reblog field for a bit and focus on the most relevant aspects of the piece. Marinate on them for a little; don’t rush, but don’t spend more than a handful of seconds either. I find after that the art becomes way easier to describe than it initially seemed!
On that note, look for shortcuts that make IDs less taxing for you to do! For example, I only ever describe clothes in art if they're relevant to the piece; not doing that every time saves a lot of time and energy for me personally
Building off of that, consider excusing yourself from a particular kind of ID if you want to. Give yourself a free pass for 4chan posts, or fanart by an artist who does really good but really complex comics, whatever. Let it be someone else's responsibility and feel twice as proud about the work that you can now allot more energy to!
As always, make an effort to find and follow fellow describers! It’s always encouraging to get described posts on your dash, and I find that sometimes I'm happier to ID an undescribed post when the person who put it on my dash is a friend who tagged it with "no ID"
TL;DR: To make ID-writing less stressful and more low-effort, use different devices and software like onlineocr.net and voice-to-text, limit the amount of work you expect yourself to do, and reach out to artists and other describers!
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SUBMIT THROUGH THE FORM IN THIS POST, NOT MY ASKBOX, FOR YOUR BLORBO'S SAKE. I WILL LOSE SUBMISSIONS IF THEY AREN'T ALL IN ONE PLACE!
Hi! I've never run a poll blog before, but I like the "do you know this character" type blogs and I searched and didn't find one for ADHD characters so I decided I'd make one!
Submission Guidelines
Both canon and non-canon ADHD characters are allowed, but YOU MUST PROVIDE EVIDENCE FOR NON-CANON ADHD CHARACTERS! I completely understand just looking at a character and going "oh they have the Vibes" but it's not enough to be posted on this blog. Even just "they exhibit a lot of impulsiveness and distractability" is enough for me to go on - just give me SOMETHING to work with. However I reserve the right to not post a character if I don't think the evidence is compelling enough, i.e., if you don't list any traits that are specific to ADHD.
You may not submit real people, only fictional characters. I find it disrespectful and uncomfortable to speculate on the mental health of real people, and will not be posting those for my own comfort, even if those people will likely never see it. Also, the point of this is characters, not real people, so even people who have said they're ADHD won't be posted.
YOU MUST SUBMIT THROUGH THE FORM, NOT MY ASKBOX. I am, of course, ADHD myself, and I need all the submissions in one place or I'll lose them.
Got it? Here's the link to the form.
About the Mod/Blog
You can call me Mudkip if you'd like, or my name, Réka. She/her only please, do not use any other pronouns for me including they/them. I am an adult. I was diagnosed with ADHD at a very young age and have it bad enough that I consider myself disabled. So ADHD rep is very important to me! And I'd like to both learn about ADHD rep I might not have heard of, and spread awareness of what ADHD people are like through the characters that people might not even realize are like us.
My icon is the character 707/Seven from Mystic Messenger, I chose him because although it's a bit hidden he is canonically ADHD! There's a call where he talks about how he talks to himself, and if you say "I heard people with adhd talk to themselves a lot..." he agrees with you, as well as displaying other ADHD traits through the whole game.
...is this entire blog partially part of my agenda to spread the word of canon ADHD Seven? Maybe.
Header is Zack Fair from Final Fantasy VII; he's not canonically ADHD but there's strong evidence for it and I couldn't resist using the "Me? Gongaga." meme.
I often can't resist making non-poll posts on this blog, although I swear I try. If you're just here for the polls you might want to filter the tag "not a poll"!
My main is @hungarianmudkip69 .
Tagging System, for your searching or filtering convenience
#poll - the polls. this only includes "do you know this character" polls, not any other polls I might do.
#not a poll - anything that doesn't get the above tag. Including other types of polls. You know what I mean.
#canon adhd character - polls for characters that are canonically ADHD.
#noncanon adhd character - polls for characters that aren't canonically ADHD, but have solid evidence behind the headcanon.
#poll results - a reblog of an ended poll with calculations of how many people know the character and what percentage of those people know/see the character as ADHD.
#poll reblog - any reblog of a poll that isn't poll results.
#other polls - polls from other blogs.
#blog management - anything about the running of the blog.
#ask - asks. I don't know what else to tell you.
#approval inquiry - asks asking if a character has been approved for posting.
#submission inquiry - asks asking if a character has been submitted.
this was part of the original pinned and I always like seeing this part of poll blog pinneds so I'm leaving it
I'm supposed to tag other polls for visibility, right? This was largely inspired by @who-do-i-know-this-man and @doyouknowthisdisabledcharacter as well as @do-you-know-this-queer-character !
If you want to know if someone's been posted, check below:
Polls in progress:
707/Saeyoung Choi from Mystic Messenger (canon)
Kyle Klimson from The InBESTigators (noncanon)
SpongeBob SquarePants from SpongeBob SquarePants (noncanon)
Sherlock Holmes from the original Sherlock Holmes stories (noncanon)
Evan "Buck" Buckley, from 9-1-1 (canon)
Meg Murry, from A Wrinkle in Time (noncanon)
Bokuto Koutarou, from Haikyuu!! (noncanon)
Finished polls (under the cut):
Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff from the X-Men movies (noncanon)
Rumpleteazer from Cats the Musical (noncanon)
Bobby Drake/Iceman from DC Comics (noncanon)
Karlach Cliffgate from Baldur's Gate 3 (noncanon)
Evelyn Wang from Everything Everywhere All at Once (canon)
Osana Najimi from Komi Can't Communicate (noncanon)
Barbara Gordon/Batgirl/Oracle from DC Comics (noncanon)
Sora from Kingdom Hearts (noncanon)
Dr. Coomer from Half Life VR but the AI is Self Aware/HLVRAI (noncanon)
Johnny Gat from Saints Row (noncanon)
Bart Allen/Impulse from DC Comics (noncanon)
Michael Tate from Greater Boston (canon)
Uraraka Ochako from My Hero Academia (noncanon)
Etcetera from Cats the Musical (noncanon)
Richie Tozier from IT (noncanon)
Gary Smith from Bully/Canis Canem Edit (canon)
Leslie Knope from Parks and Recreation (noncanon)
Leonardo from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (noncanon)
Mungojerrie from Cats the Musical (noncanon)
Achilles from the Iliad (noncanon)
Tajima Yuuichirou from Ookiku Furikabutte/Oofuri/Big Windup (noncanon)
Benrey from Half Life VR but the AI is Self Aware/HLVRAI (noncanon)
Crowven Corvuson from Cemetery Mary (canon)
Martlet from Undertale Yellow (noncanon)
Zell Dincht from Final Fantasy 8 (noncanon)
Skimbleshanks from Cats the Musical (noncanon)
Goku from Dragonball (noncanon)
Yuma Tsukumo from Yu-Gi-Oh Zexal (noncanon)
Moritz Stiefel from Spring Awakening (noncanon)
Sydney 'Syd' Novak from I Am Not Okay With This (noncanon)
Yuki Takeya from Gakkou Gurashi/School-Live! (noncanon)
Annabeth Chase from the Percy Jackson series (canon)
Maria von Trapp from The Sound of Music (noncanon)
Lift from The Stormlight Archive (noncanon)
Tim Drake from DC Comics (noncanon)
Monkey D. Luffy from One Piece (noncanon)
Apollo Justice from the Ace Attorney games (noncanon)
Stella from Winx Club (noncanon)
Roy Harper from DC Comics (canon)
Michelangelo from Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (canon)
Tony Stark from the Marvel Cinematic Universe (noncanon)
Aiden Clark from School Bus Graveyard (canon)
Serpaz Helilo from Vast Error (canon)
The Doctor from Doctor Who (noncanon)
Ronan Lynch from The Raven Cycle (noncanon)
Leo Valdez from the Percy Jackson books (canon)
Moth Flight from Warrior Cats (canon)
Ramona Quimby from the Ramona books (noncanon)
Joey Pigza from the Joey Pigza books (canon)
Anne Shirley from Anne of Green Gables (noncanon)
Spinner Mason from Degrassi: The Next Generation (canon)
Lupin III from Lupin the Third (noncanon)
Rainbow Dash from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic (noncanon)
George Beard and Harold Hutchins from Captain Underpants (canon)
Alex Woodroe from All the Feels (canon)
Agent Curt Mega from Spies are Forever (noncanon)
TG from Castle of Nations (canon)
Shawn Spencer from Psych (canon)
Sydney Scoville Jr. from Grrl Power (canon)
Marinette Dupain-Cheng from Miraculous Ladybug (noncanon)
Zagreus from Hades (noncanon)
Sherlock Holmes from Sherlock & Co. (canon)
Ash Ketchum from Pokémon (noncanon)
Misfire from Transformers (canon)
Herlock Sholmes from The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles (noncanon)
Christine Canigula from Be More Chill (canon)
Aubrey Little from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty (canon)
Lt. Columbo from Columbo (noncanon)
Billie from Billie Bust Up (canon)
Wei Wuxian from Mo Dao Zu Shi (noncanon)
Jimmy Casket from VenturianTale (noncanon)
Sara Eriksson from Young Royals (canon)
Magnus Burnsides from The Adventure Zone: Balance (noncanon)
Scout from Team Fortress 2 (noncanon)
Luz Noceda from The Owl House (canon)
Zack Fair from Final Fantasy VII (noncanon)
Percy Jackson from Percy Jackson and the Olympians (canon)
April Polls' Day posts, for posterity - ran polls on non-ADHD characters:
Twilight Sparkle from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Zenos yae Galvus from Final Fantasy XIV
P.I.X.A.L. from Lego Ninjago
Brutus the Ducky from Real Life and also Rubber Ducky Hell (our only canonically non-ADHD poll subject)
Sophia from Stranger of Paradise: Final Fantasy Origin (please play it)
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