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#but I just discovered something new and like
incognit0slut · 1 day
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REFLECTED BLISS
When you discover a mirror attached to the wall in your hotel room, Spencer decides to take full advantage of it.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) afab reader, established relationship but they're being sneaky, fingering, guided masturbation (f), unprotected sex with a mirror involved, creampie, and spencer being spencer a.k.a he uses fun facts as dirty talk ~3.9k words A/n: Told myself to make this 'cute and sexy and less filthy' but… idk man, from a scale to 1 to 10 how filthy is this be honest Requested: Here
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“Oh my god.”
“What? What is it?”
“Spence,” you urged, pulling him into the room. “You need to see this.”
He followed you, stepping further in, and his eyes widened as they landed on the wall opposite the bed—a wall that wasn't just a wall, but a vast, floor-to-ceiling mirror reflecting the entire room. “That’s… interesting.”
“Interesting?” You mocked before peaking your head out the door, making sure no one was in sight before clicking it shut. “It’s terrifying.”
His duffel bag hit the carpet floor. “You’re scared of a mirror?”
“No,” you responded, placing your own bag alongside his. “I’m scared of the idea of it. I mean, look at it—it’s like it sees everything.” 
“It’s glass. It can’t actually see us.”
“Yeah, but still,” you said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s placed right in front of the bed. Who would want to watch themselves sleeping?”
His eyes shifted back and forth between the mirror and the bed, the reflection capturing every detail of the room, including the bed’s plush pillows and crisp white sheets. “You know, I don’t think it’s used for sleeping.”
“What do you mean?”
His lips quirked up into an amused smile. “Think about it. Why would anyone want a mirror like this in front of their bed? It’s not for sleeping, it’s for... well, other activities.”
You felt your cheeks heat up as realization dawned. “Oh, you mean—that’s even worse!”
He laughed, closing the distance between you, his arms resting comfortably around your waist. “Actually, visual stimulation can significantly enhance sexual experiences. Mirrors can add a whole new level of excitement by engaging our sense of sight.”
Your face flushed even more. “I… did not know that.”
“Yeah, it’s all about the brain processing the stimuli.” He pulled you closer, his voice dropping to a softer, more intimate tone. “It can heighten our arousal and make the experience more intense.”
You could feel your heart hammering against your chest, knowing what he was trying to do. Every time he initiated something intimate, it never failed to fluster you. There was a time when Spencer was uncertain and hesitant about these aspects of your relationship. But the more you spent time together, sneaking into each other’s hotel rooms from time to time, the more his confidence grew.
Now, you could feel it in the way he was holding you, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. His touch was firm yet gentle, and the way he looked down at you, his eyes filled with warmth and a hint of mischief, was sending you into a frenzy. There was something different in his gaze—a new assurance, a quiet strength that made your pulse quicken.
He smiled down at you, a secretive, knowing smile as if he held a secret of his own, one that he was eager to share with you in these private moments. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. 
“I guess that makes sense.”
His smile widened. “So, while the mirror might seem creepy at first, it actually has its perks.”
“Perks, huh?”
“Absolutely.”
You pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing at him. “Are you trying to convince me to have sex in front of the mirror?”
“Is it working?”
You couldn’t stop the laugh escaping your lips. “A little.”
He laughed along with you, the sound warm and infectious. “Can I convince you more?”
But before you could answer him, his lips were already down your neck, drawing a sigh from you. You tilted your head to grant him better access. His hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours.
“I thought—” You let out a moan when he sucked a spot just below your ear. “I thought we agreed… no funny business tonight.”
“Was that really your plan when you begged me to stay with you?”
“I didn’t beg,” you defended. “You offered. I told you this town gave me the creeps and you said you’d sneak in my room to keep me company.”
His lips paused momentarily, hovering just over your pulse. 
“You’re right, you didn’t beg,” he conceded with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin. “But you have to admit, the offer was mutually beneficial.”
“Mutually beneficial? Is that what we’re calling it?”
“It’s accurate,” he murmured, drawing back to look at you. “And I seem to remember someone saying how much they appreciated the company... especially at night.”
You could feel the smile forming on your lips, even as you tried to maintain a semblance of indignation. “Well, maybe I did say that. But that doesn’t mean—”
His lips cut you off, soft and persuasive, making it impossible to continue as your protests melted away. The kiss deepened, driven by a mixture of long-held desire and the thrill of his hard body pressed against your soft frame.
“You make a pretty convincing argument,” you murmured against his lips, your earlier resolve softening.
He pulled away from you before taking your hand in his. “Come here.”
He led you gently towards the mirror, the expanse of glass revealing your intertwined figures in the softly lit room.
“Oh my god, we’re actually doing this?”
He positioned you in front of him. "Only if you're comfortable.”
You watched your reflections, the way his hands settled more firmly around your waist, how your bodies fit together so perfectly. Your gaze met him through the mirror.
“Convince me more.”
He smiled and wrapped his arms around you, fingers hovering above the buttons of your shirt. 
“Well," he began. "Did you know that mirrors don't just reflect visuals? They can also amplify emotions.”
You watched him in the reflection, the depth of his clear, brown eyes pulling you deeper into the moment. "It's like being both the spectator and the participant," he continued, his fingers deftly beginning to unbutton your shirt with gentle precision. "It makes everything more real, more intimate.”
You found yourself nodding, drawn in by both his words and the tender yet confident way he handled you. 
"So," he concluded as he folded back the fabric, revealing more of you to the cool air of the room and the warm glow of his gaze, "If we're talking about enhancing our senses, using a mirror could make every touch, every kiss, feel even more intense, don't you think?"
Words failed you; you were too overwhelmed by his presence, by the heat that radiated from his touch, so instead of speaking, you nodded again. He smiled, a slow, knowing curve of his lips that suggested he was aware of the effect he had on you.
"See?" he murmured, slipping your shirt off your shoulders. "Everything feels more alive, doesn't it?"
More than alive, your body was burning. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the mirror, where every movement and touch vividly reflected back at you. You leaned into him, letting the warmth of his body envelop you as his lips found the curve of your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses.
His fingers slid down the strap of your bra, the motion slow and tantalizing as his gaze traced the path. His other hand remained at your waist, holding you steady as if he knew how his actions were making your knees weak. 
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he urged when he caught you staring intently at your reflection.
"I'm thinking," you started. “That this mirror might be magic.”
His eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering through his gaze. "Oh?" 
“It’s making my clothes disappear.”
He laughed, the sound rich and warm in the quiet room. “I thought maybe I had something to do with that.”
“Well… you do love a good magic trick.”
“I do love a good magic trick.”
You felt his fingers on your back before he unhooked the clasp of your bra. The fabric loosened, and you felt a flush of warmth that had little to do with the room's temperature. His hands slid from your back to your shoulders, gently pushing the straps down your arms, allowing the fabric to slip away gracefully. 
“You’re so beautiful.”
You swallowed, trying to concentrate as his arms circled your waist before his fingers found the waistband of your pants.
“You’re… you’re pretty too.”
His chuckle was low and affectionate, his breath tickling your ear. "I'll take that as a compliment."
You felt his fingers undo the button of your pants, his movements slow, almost teasing, before he gently slid the zipper down. He gazed into your eyes through the mirror, seeking permission, and you found yourself nodding, your breath catching in your throat.
His hands shifted, not only guiding the fabric down your legs but also making sure your panties followed suit as he kneeled behind you. He let out a strained groan when he caught the evidence of your slick arousal clinging onto the fabric, momentarily pausing to kiss the back of your exposed thigh.
You were so pretty, so warm, so inviting. Spencer let his lips linger onto your skin while he pushed the last piece of clothing gently past your knees, allowing it to fall gracefully to the floor. He stood back up and led you both backward until the back of his knees met the edge of the bed.
With a smooth motion, he sat down, guiding you to sit between his spread legs. He carefully nudged your legs apart with his hand, and you couldn't resist looking away when you saw yourself in this position.
“No,” he said, his hand tracing along the column of your neck, coming to rest gently against your jaw before tilting your face toward the mirror. “I want you to watch.” 
Hesitantly, your eyes met your reflection in the mirror. You could clearly see yourself, how exposed you were, how you seemed to look smaller compared to him with the way you were naked and the way he was still fully clothed.
His hands traced a path from your jaw down your neck, and he watched himself move over the swells of your breasts. He gave them both a firm squeeze, admiring how they looked in his hands, how your skin radiated beneath his own. 
You gasped when his thumbs brushed your nipples. It seemed like it wasn’t much, but the sensation you were getting from it was making you wetter. Your nipples were so sensitive that you let out his name in an airy moan.
“Yes, baby?”
Your back arched instinctively. He knew what he was doing with his sweet, gentle voice and the way he was rolling your nipples in between his index and middle fingers.
You shifted your head to the side. “Can you kiss me?”
Of course he could, he’d probably give you anything you asked for. Spencer leaned forward, his lips met yours that melded with sweetness an intense longing. One of your hands found its way to his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him with a clear desperation, but his hunger was unmatched.
He was kissing you as if he wanted to make sure he memorized every curve of your lip, the way your tongue felt, and how it felt good to get a moan out of you. You were moaning loudly, way too loud, and all he could do was swallow your moans—tongue exploring all over the inside of your mouth or press his lips hard against yours. 
Finally breaking the kiss just enough to speak, he whispered against your lips. “Should I continue?”
You nodded as his other hand, which had been skillfully teasing your nipples traveled down, tracing the lines of your body, over your ribs, pausing at your hips. He gently guided your hips to shift slightly, adjusting the angle, spreading your legs further apart.
“Can you keep your eyes on the mirror for me?”
You fixed your gaze on the reflection and felt a surge of heat rush through you. A glistening sheen of your arousal coated your inner thighs, and it almost embarrassed you, but it seemed like he didn’t mind. His large hands moved down your thighs, his touch alternating between gentle brushes and firm grips, exploring the softness of your flesh.
The moment his fingers made contact with the slick wetness, sliding effortlessly through your folds and parting them, a sharp gasp escaped your lips. The image in the mirror was boldly erotic, and he continued with practiced movements as he pushed you further into a haze of pleasure.
“Look at how responsive you are,” he murmured, his fingers rolling over your clit. "Visual stimulation can greatly enhance the physical sensations. Watching yourself like this, seeing how much you enjoy it, can intensify everything you feel."
Your stomach churned with a violent delight as he began to put more pressure, rubbing your swollen nub in a circular motion. You gasped, focusing on your reflection–your head tilting back, your eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. It was intensely arousing to see yourself in such a raw, unguarded state.
"Watching can make the pleasure more acute," he continued, guiding your hand down to feel where his fingers were at work. "Try it."
Your eyes met his in the mirror. “W-What?”
“Here,” he encouraged, taking hold of your hand before placing it at the center of your cunt. The warmth and wetness were startling, even more so because you were witnessing it unfold in the mirror. His fingers guided yours, teaching you the rhythm and pressure that had drawn those sharp gasps from your lips.
"Like this," he murmured, his own hand adjusting yours, showing you how to circle and press. Your breath hitched, seeing the flush spread across your chest and neck, the way his fingers moved above yours.
"It intensifies, doesn't it?"
Your head fell back to his chest. “Y-Yes.”
“Keep going,” he instructed, and you followed, playing with your clit with the right amount of pressure you desired. When his fingers traveled further down, his fingertips grazing your entrance, your jaw slacked open.
You whimpered as he began to sink his digits into your cunt, savoring the way you clenched around him. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head before you instinctively closed your eyes. 
You felt his free hand gripping your jaw.
“Eyes on the mirror, Sweetheart.”
You obeyed, reopening your eyes. You settled to watch how his hand flexed as he began to slowly pump his finger in and out of your dripping cunt before adding another to stretch you out. You whined, your own fingers moving fast against your clit.
“Good,” he murmured, burying his face against the side of your neck, face nearly pressing into yours. His stubbled jaw scraped across your skin, causing you to shudder in pleasure. “Keep watching.”
You could barely think straight, your breaths coming in short gasps now, your focus split between the sensations rippling through your body and the erotic display in the mirror. His fingers curled inside you, finding that perfect angle to press against your most sensitive spot. 
The room was quickly filled with the lewd sound as he kept a steady pace, fingers rutting into your tight hole, your slick inner walls clenching around him with each thrust. Your hips jerked against him again as a tiny moan escaped your lips.
"I love seeing you like this," he confessed. "Are you close?”
You struggled to answer, your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. But he felt the way you clenched around him, a clear sign of your approaching orgasm. His other hand traced a path from just below your breasts, gliding down over the smooth plane of your stomach. He paused, his palm resting just above where your own fingers were playing with your clit, and applied pressure there.
A shudder tore through you, the sensation bordering on overwhelming before a sharp, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. Your body shook as your orgasm washed over you in an intense wave.
The mirror captured it all—the way your head tossed back against his shoulder, your eyes squeezed shut, then snapped open to catch glimpses of his fingers thrusting into your throbbing cunt while his other hand pressed gently on your lower stomach.
Your own movements paused as you tried to catch your breath and Spencer held you, making sure you composed yourself even though his erection was digging into the swell of your ass, itching to be inside of you. Fortunately, he had patience—you, on the other hand, not so much.
You gripped onto his thigh, noting the fabric underneath your palm. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear. "Am I now?" 
"Definitely too much.”
"Maybe we should fix that," he suggested, shifting slightly to allow some space for you to turn in his arms. Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt the moment you faced him, fingers itching to rid him of the unnecessary barrier.
He watched your every move with a slight smile playing on his lips. letting you push the fabric over his shoulder. “Better?”
"Getting there.”
You worked at the buckle of his belt before you unbuttoned his pants, urging him to lift his hips as you slid them off. "How about now?”
You reached out, your hands gliding up his now bare thighs.
"Almost. Still too much."
Spencer responded immediately, his hands removing the last piece of his clothing in a fluid motion. Then he was finally naked, and the sight of his cock, visibly aroused and gleaming slightly at the tip, drew a sharp intake of breath from you.
"Now we're talking," you breathed out, a satisfied grin spreading across your face.
His hands found their way to your waist, urging you to face the mirror again. “Get on your knees for me.”
“You’re really into this mirror thing, huh?"
“It’s hard not to,” he quipped, his hands gently guiding you into position as he settled behind you. "Don’t worry, all the attention is on you."
“Oh, really?” you responded, turning slightly to look up at him. "Or do you just like seeing how good you make me feel?”
“I do make you feel good, don’t I?”
“Cockiness does not suit you.”
“Mhm,” he hummed, gripping your hips with one hand and the other positioning himself right at your entrance. “Arch your back a little.”
You obliged, accentuating the curve of your body. “Like this?”
“Perfect.”
His hand on your hips adjusted you slightly, ensuring the angle was just right. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling his cock brush past your folds and you both moaned as he pushed himself further into you. Once he was all the way in, pausing to take a breath, he slowly slid back out to give you an experimental thrust. 
You whined at the sensation before adjusting your knees, spreading them further apart to give him better access. This new position deepened the angle, and when he thrust back into you, the pleasure intensified.
"Is this better?" He asked breathlessly, watching your expressions in the mirror for any sign of discomfort or pleasure.
You nodded. Your face felt hot, your mind was fogging up. The feeling of being filled was too good, but you wanted something more. Your hips, as if you had no control over them, started to grind against his.
Spencer groaned in pleasure, head going blank. His hands rested on your waist, pulling back to slide himself out before going back in slowly, meeting your movement. But he was treating you as if you were fragile, his thrusts were gentle, and despite how vocal you are with your little whimpers, it still wasn’t enough.
“Baby,” you gasped, pushing your hips back into his. “Can you—can you go faster?”
Spencer's response was immediate, his breath catching slightly at your request. His gaze met yours in the mirror, searching for any sign of hesitation, but when he saw none, he began to pick up the pace.
“Faster?” His hand tightened on your waist as he gave you a hard thrust, jolting you forward. “Or rougher?”
Both, you wanted both, but a breathless yes was the only thing that managed to slip out of your mouth. His grin was sharp, almost predatory. His movements became even more deliberate, each thrust gaining force and speed, driving into you with an intensity that matched the urgency in your voice.
“You like that?” he asked, voice rough with desire as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your skin. 
"Yes, I—fuck," You blabbered. The pleasure was building, coiling tightly within you. “S-So good.”
Spencer’s other hand moved forward, finding your chin in the mirror and gently turning your face towards his. “Look at us.”
The reflection showed every detail—your wide eyes, his focused expression, the way your bodies moved together in a perfect rhythm. It was overwhelming, and even more intense when the hand on your waist slid around you, fingers brushing your clit.
You mewled, your back pressing against his chest. The visual of watching it all happen, of seeing how your bodies worked together, amplified everything. The combination of his thrusts and the relentless circles his fingers traced over your clit drove you closer to the edge. 
"Spencer, I’m—" you started, breathless, the words catching in your throat as the building pressure within you neared its peak.
"I know," he replied. He could feel it too, the way your body clenched around him, and he was just about at his limit. “Me too… I’m so close.”
You felt every muscle in your body tighten, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter. “Wanna feel you,” you gasped. “Cum… inside…  me.”
Spencer’s response was a deep, guttural groan, his breaths growing even more labored. “Yeah? You want me to fill you up?”
“Please," you whispered, urgency lacing every syllable. “Want your cum in me.”
That did it. He just couldn’t say no to you.
His fingers moved rapidly on your clit as he drove into you. The combination of his deep, determined thrusts and the relentless stimulation of your clit overwhelmed your senses. The room was filled with the sounds of the rhythmic slap of skin against skin, and you could see in the mirror how each movement affected you.
Then, with a few more powerful thrusts, you felt him tense, a deep groan escaping him as he reached his climax. The hot rush of his release inside you was the final trigger your body needed. Your vision blurred, your mind blanked, and you surrendered to the intense wave of your own orgasm, crashing over you with a force that left you trembling and breathless.
Spencer continued to move gently, riding out the aftershocks of your climaxes together, his movements becoming slower, more soothing. As the waves of pleasure subsided, he wrapped his arms around you more tightly, pulling you back against his chest protectively. His breaths were slow and deep, calming against the back of your neck.
You were panting, tired yet blissful, and your eyes met his gaze in the mirror once again.
“How many couples do you think the mirror has witnessed?”
Spencer chuckled softly, his chest rumbling against your back. "More than we can imagine."
He then pulled out from you and a soft sigh escaped you as his hot release slipped from your cunt. Spencer noticed it too, which was why his hand went back between your thighs, his fingers pushing the white, warm liquid back into you.
“Oh my god,” you gasped. “What–you—” You stared at him with wide eyes. “You are filthy.”
“Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”
You sighed, because he was right, more so you were enjoying it too much because his fingers continued thrusting into you and you found yourself pushing back against his hand.
“Spence…” You warned him, although it came out too breathless to make it sound like a real threat.
He grinned, clearly enjoying your response. “Do you want me to stop?”
You paused, pretending to think, but there was no real doubt as you quickly shook your head. Because how could you want him to stop when his touch was so intoxicating, when he was focused so intently on your pleasure more than ever before?
Your eyes drifted back toward the expansive mirror in front of you.
Maybe you should get one for your room.
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epiphainie · 9 hours
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i love the "i don't know what i'm ready for but i'm ready for something and i think maybe that something could be with you" quote so much because it's a direct answer to people bemoaning about how buck should "explore his sexuality first"
he's literally saying that he doesn't know what that means yet. he doesn't know if he fits a label or even wants one, he doesn't know if this means he wants to pursue a long-term relationship with a man, he doesn't know what this means for his perception of himself and assumptions he's made about a hypothetical future. all of this take time when you come to terms with a new aspect of your sexuality, realizing you're queer encompasses more than just realizing you want to have sex with x, y, z genders. and he's not sure about any of that yet.
but what he knows is that he likes tommy and he wants to explore all of this with tommy. tommy is not here to blow his world open to sex with new potential partners and then bow out - buck doesn't want that. he specifically wants tommy as he discovers and learns all about existing as a queer man - he wants it with him because he likes him.
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parkjayssi · 2 days
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✦ PAC : THEY ARE THE POEMS I WRITE ABOUT
few facts about your future spouse
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like & rb if resonates
i'm a beginner in tarot so please take everything with a grain of salt
it is a general reading so only take what resonates
do not copy or steal my work
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☁️ | pile one!
pile one, seems like your fs have quite a vivid and imaginative mind. they are constantly having new ideas and love to invent/ create new things. i see them being obsessed with some form of arts.
they like being stable. they don't necessarily think money can buy happiness but they definitely want to create a stable future for them and their family. this can also mean being stable in every form. emotionally, physically, materialistically etc..
they really work hard for what they want, pile one. in fact the constant dedication is their biggest plus point and also their worst. they work hard to the point it's taxing and affecting them in every way.
pulling a suit of pentacles confirms it that they definitely are the epitome of stability. also they really like travelling. they like discovering new places and getting on touch with their creative side through travelling.
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☁️ | pile two!
seems like they are quite a smart person, pile two. they have the wits of an owl and are quite mature when it comes to their perspective on almost everything.
possibly work in the business field. they are quite street smart and it works well with jobs that require leadership and co-operation. could also travel a lot because of their work. with the suit of wands it confirms it that they are quite dedicated to their work.
they are from foreign lands. this could be as small as a different city to as large as a different continent entirely. for most of you, it could be a different state from yours.
they seem the type to fight hard for what they want but can be just as easily demotivated if they don't have any support by their side. words of affection really cheer them up.
they are quite straightforward about how they feel and will not sugarcoat their words. they really believe in honesty is the best policy. seems like they also like talking a lot about deep topics. seems like sapiosexual for some of you.
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☁️ | pile three!
a bundle of energy with a fearless attitude is who your fs is, pile 3. they have a pretty optimistic mindset and believe in hoping for better. they aren't scared of facing the problems head on AT ALL .
they easily suffer from burn-out. seems like they are an introvert and tend to lose their energy quickly. definitely needs alone time to recharge. although, whenever they really are passionate about something and put their mind onto it, they tend to succeed.
they tend to escape reality a lot but not in a way you expect anyone to. tends to think a lot on how they can improve further whenever they do so. self-discovery is a major part of their life so they are always in their head about it
they seem quite sensual. they enjoy the finer things in life and take time to appreciate them. they are the type to stop and enjoy the fragrance of flowers while passing through the flower shop.
they seem to have a bright energy. something about their smile instantly heals you. it's like they hold the sun within their smile and makes you feel instantly better.
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pucksandpower · 13 hours
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Could’ve Had It All
Pierre Gasly x social media manager!Reader
Summary: Pierre Gasly has taken a lot from Esteban Ocon over the years … but losing you to him before Esteban ever even really had a chance to have you hurts the most
Based on this request (I wasn’t going to post this yet, but with the news that came out earlier some angst felt fitting)
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Esteban makes his way down the narrow hallway of the Alpine motorhome, his heart pounding in his chest. This is it — he’s finally going to confess his feelings for you. He’s had a crush on you for years, ever since you started working with the team. Your sharp wit, radiant smile, and passion for the sport have captivated him from day one.
As he approaches your office door, he hears a strange noise coming from inside. It sounds like ... moaning? Esteban freezes, his brow furrowing in confusion. What’s going on in there? Against his better judgment, he reaches for the door handle and pushes the door open without knocking.
The sight that greets him makes his heart stop. There you are, pressed up against the wall, your fingers tangled in Pierre Gasly’s messy waves as he trails heated kisses down your neck.
Pierre, his teammate ... his rival ...
“What the hell?” Esteban blurts out before he can stop himself.
You and Pierre break apart instantly, faces flushed with embarrassment and ... something else. Desire? Esteban feels like he’s been punched in the gut.
“Estie!” You exclaim, hastily smoothing down your rumpled clothing. “I ... we ...”
“You two are ...” Esteban can barely get the words out, his mouth suddenly dry.
Pierre straightens up, running a hand through his disheveled hair. There’s a defiant glint in his eyes as he slips an arm around your waist, pulling you close. “Yeah, we are.”
Esteban’s world comes crashing down around him. All this time, he’d been harboring these feelings for you, dreaming of the day he might finally work up the courage to tell you how he felt. And now, to discover that you’re already taken ... and by his own teammate, no less.
“How long has this been going on?” He demands, his voice thick with emotion.
You bite your lip, unable to meet his gaze. “A few months.”
“A few months?” Esteban can’t believe what he’s hearing. “And you didn’t think to tell me?”
“It’s not like that, Esteban,” Pierre interjects, his tone stern. “We didn’t mean for this to happen, it just ... did.”
“Sure, mate. Whatever you say.” Esteban shakes his head in disbelief. He can’t bear to look at the two of you, so intimately entwined. It’s like a knife twisting in his heart.
“Estie, please ...” you begin, taking a step towards him. But he holds up a hand, stopping you in your tracks.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice strained. “Just ... don’t.”
With that, he turns on his heel and storms out of the office, slamming the door behind him. He needs to get out of here, needs to clear his head before he does or says something he’ll regret.
As he stalks through the paddock, Esteban’s mind is a whirlwind of emotions. Anger, hurt, betrayal ... they all swirl together in a toxic mix that threatens to overwhelm him. How could you do this to him? And with Pierre, of all people?
He finds himself wandering aimlessly, his feet carrying him to the Alpine garage without conscious thought. Maybe some mindless work will help take his mind off this mess, at least for a little while.
But as he approaches the garage, he hears a familiar voice calling out to him.
“Esteban! There you are.”
It’s Pierre, jogging to catch up with him. Esteban grits his teeth, steeling himself for the confrontation he knows is coming.
“What do you want?” He snaps, turning to face his teammate.
Pierre holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. But you have to understand, what’s happening between me and Y/N ... it’s real, yeah? It’s not just some fling.”
“Oh, spare me the bullshit,” Esteban scoffs. “You’re sleeping with the social media manager, Pierre. How do you think that looks for the team?”
“It’s not just about sex,” Pierre insists, his brow furrowing. “I really care about her. More than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”
Esteban laughs bitterly. “Right, and I’m supposed to believe that?”
“Believe what you want,” Pierre retorts, his jaw tightening. “But don’t act like you’re some victim in all this. We both know how you feel about her.”
Esteban tenses, hating how transparent his feelings for you have apparently been. “That’s got nothing to do with this.”
“Doesn’t it?” Pierre challenges. “Face it, you’re jealous. You’ve had your eye on her for ages, and now that she’s with me, you can’t handle it.”
“You’re delusional,” Esteban spits, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
Pierre shakes his head, looking almost ... pitying? “Keep telling yourself that, mate. But the truth is, you had your chance with her. And you blew it.”
Those words hit Esteban like a physical blow. Because deep down, he knows Pierre is right. He had been too cowardly, too afraid of ruining your professional relationship to ever make a move.
And now, it’s too late.
“Just ... leave me alone, Pierre,” Esteban mutters, turning away. He can’t bear to look at his teammate’s smug face a second longer.
As he retreats into the garage, Esteban feels a profound sense of loss settle over him. He’s lost you, the woman he’s been pining after for years, to his own teammate and rival. How is he supposed to move on from that? How is he supposed to work alongside you and Pierre every day, knowing what he knows?
The rest of the race weekend passes by in a blur of forced smiles and awkward silences. Esteban does his best to avoid the two of you, throwing himself into his work as a distraction. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t escape the ache in his heart whenever he sees you both together.
Finally, as the chequered flag waves and the race comes to an end, Esteban allows himself a moment of respite. He sinks down onto a crate in the garage, burying his face in his hands as the weight of his heartbreak threatens to crush him.
“Estie?”
Your soft voice cuts through the chaos around him, and he tenses. Of course you would seek him out now, when he’s at his most vulnerable. He lifts his head, meeting your concerned gaze.
“What do you want?” He asks, his voice dull and lifeless.
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth, clearly struggling to find the right words. “I ... I just wanted to talk to you. About what happened.”
“What’s there to talk about?” Esteban shrugs, feigning indifference. “You’re with Pierre now. End of story.”
“It’s not that simple,” you protest, taking a step closer. “You’re one of my closest friends. I never wanted to hurt you.”
He laughs humorlessly. “Well, you did a bang-up job of that, didn’t you?”
You flinch at his harsh words, and Esteban immediately feels a pang of regret. This isn’t your fault, not really. You can’t help how you feel, just like he can’t.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, your eyes shining with unshed tears. “I never meant for any of this to happen. But ... Pierre makes me happy. In a way I haven’t felt in a long time.”
Esteban’s throat tightens at your words. Of course Pierre makes you happy. Stupidly handsome, charming Pierre with his easy smiles and effortless charisma. How could Esteban ever hope to compete with that?
“I’m glad he makes you happy,” Esteban manages to choke out, even as the words feel like shards of glass in his throat. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”
Your face softens, and you reach out to place a gentle hand on his arm. “You’ll find someone, Estie. Someone who makes you just as happy as Pierre makes me. I know it.”
Esteban wants to believe you, he really does. But in this moment, with his heart shattered into a million pieces, it’s hard to envision a future where he’s anything but hopelessly alone.
Still, he manages a weak smile for your sake. “Yeah, maybe someday.”
You return the smile, giving his arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “I should go find Pierre.”
The words are like a knife to Esteban’s battered heart, but he bites back the anguished retort that rises to his lips. This is your choice, your happiness. As much as it destroys him, he has to respect that.
“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you around, Y/N.”
With one last lingering look, you turn and make your way across the garage, disappearing into the crowd. Esteban watches you go, mourning the future he had allowed himself to dream of — a future where you were his and his alone.
But that future is gone now before it ever had a chance to even take root. All that’s left is an aching emptiness where his heart used to be. Esteban closes his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath as a single tear trails down his cheek.
It’s over. The woman he loves is lost to him forever. And for the first time in his life, Esteban has no idea how to move forward from here. All he can do is pick up the shattered pieces of his broken heart, and hope that one day, somehow, they’ll mend.
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ariaste · 2 days
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I'm super excited for your new book, quick question though... I recently saw something about an author not getting much $ from amazon because of the way revenue/profit was allocated when the book was on sale. What are the best 3 ways to buy your book in terms of revenue for you? I'm assuming Amazon isn't great? What about B&N? small local book stores? From the link you shared? A different method?
That is an AWESOME question and extremely thoughtful! I will give the short answer and the long answer. Short answer for RUNNING CLOSE TO THE WIND specifically:
Buy the hardback from Allstora (GREAT) or my Bookshop.org affiliate store (still good) or Barnes & Noble (I won't get any extra money, but it's good for other reasons, see below) or your local indie bookstore (we love supporting small businesses)
Buy the ebook from wherever is best for you! Right now I make pretty much the same amount of money regardless of platform.
Remember to recommend it to your local library in hardback, ebook, and audiobook form. (I still make money when libraries buy my books, and libraries help new readers discover my books)
For readers outside of America: You should be able to get it everywhere, and buying it from any retailer is great! I recommend a local indie bookstore.
Longer answer for all of my books:
Right, so I do both indie publishing and traditional publishing, so this is where things get weird:
Allstora is amazing for authors. For physical copies of my books, I get between 10% and 40% of the sale price on top of the royalties i get from my publisher. It is sincerely a game-changer. Buying my books from from my Bookshop.org store, linked above, is also pretty good -- it gets me a little boost of 10% of the profits of any books you buy through my affiliate link. Pretty cool. Buying books from Barnes & Noble is good for different reasons, because while I do not get any extra money beyond my royalties, B&N is very good at reporting their preorder numbers to my publisher, which is useful data for them to know for things like how much of a marketing budget to give my books. As for buying from indie bookstores, that speaks for itself: They are the backbone of our literary society and supporting them is just a morally good thing to do. (For international readers looking to get the hardbacks: Whichever retailer you usually use is great! There's no clear frontrunner right now that gives me more benefit than any other)
For ebooks of my traditionally published books (A Conspiracy of Truths, A Choir of Lies, Finding Faeries, A Taste of Gold and Iron, and now Running Close to the wind), again, buying them anywhere is currently fine. I hear Allstora might be working on getting ebook functionality in the future, in which case that will become the answer :) For ebooks of my self-published works, however, get them from my Patreon shop. I walk away with about $8 off an $8.99 sale. It's incredibly good.
Again, recommending my books to your local library (there's usually an online form on their website) is hugely helpful because that's FREE for you and STILL MONEY for me! :D And libraries are awesome, so.
You can also sign up for my newsletter or join my Discord server to get notifications of special events when you can buy autographed books directly from me! This gets me even more money than Allstora, but I only run these events a couple times a year for special occasions.
THANK YOU SO MUCH for asking this question! I hope this helped!
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weasleyreidstyles · 12 hours
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Serendipity
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chapter eighteen
summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.
no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.
pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader
warning(s): angst, very little fluff (its there but barely!), canonical death, canonical violence, nightmare trope!, mentions of anxiety and allusion to a panic attack
series masterlist; previous part; next part
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"Sirius had a brother-" you whisper, your voice betraying your sadness at the thought of the eccentric man.
"Yes. His name was Regulus Black."
"Regulus Black?" Enzo mumbles to himself, as if he was testing the name on his tongue.
"He was Slytherin's star seeker in the seventies." Blaise said in barely restrained awe. "People said that he was an enigma. Always quiet and observing."
"That is a bona fide assessment of my cousin." Andromeda's low voice sounded from the doorway, the head of her husband visible in the room behind where she stood. "He was always calculating something in that brilliant brain of his."
The smile on her face is as reminiscent as it is stricken with grief. Remus turns to her with the same look simmering in his chocolate irises.
"I don't understand." Pansy says quietly. "My father always said that he was enthusiastic about being a Death Eater. Him and his friends. That Voldemort trusted him implicitly. And you're saying he was spy the whole time?"
"That was the whole point of his undercover work." Remus mused with a grim look. "He was so trusted by Voldemort that he didn't even suspect that Regulus might be the one threatening to unravel all of his intricate work."
"If you knew of the horcruxes during the first war, why isn't it a widely known thing now?" Mattheo's deep rasp travels through you like silky butter, sending a shiver down your spine.
"Because we didn't implicitly know what Regulus was searching for. Not until Dumbledore told us of what he and Harry discovered in light of what happened when you," He looked pointedly in your direction, "reacted the way you did to the dark magic swimming in Miss Bell's veins. Every time Regulus would try, his Mark burned. None of us knew just how detrimental his searching was."
"But he succeeded, didn't he? If he found the one you say was a fake." Enzo asked your old professor, eyes alight with curiosity.
"There's more than one." Mattheo says, surprising you all, except Andromeda, who looks as if this information too wasn't new. "Several actually. There was my father's old diary, the ring, this locket-"
He pauses, head swimming with thoughts of the many possibilities.
"Nagini was always whispering about it in the years she'd turn up at Theo's home to torment me. But she always spoke in riddles. There could be more, there probably is more but I don't know what they could be. Something significant to my father, though."
"But how do they work?" Pansy asks, looking between Mattheo and the adults.
"He murdered innocent people to split his soul." Mattheo says resentfully. And though his face is expressionless, you read his shame as if it was there, clear as day.
"So that's how he survived? He severed his soul and tethered himself to the Earth?" Theo's head was slightly tilted to the side, eyes alight with curiosity.
The thought alone sends a wave of colossal dread through you all.
"We believe so, yes. But knowing just how many there are will be crucial if we are to win this war." Andromeda said quietly, before her husband entered the room with a bright smile, despite the stale tension that permeated the air of the tiny kitchen.
"Ready to go, love?" He questions his wife, voice laden with a love that hadn't faded in the years that you'd known the couple through your parents.
"Yes, dear." She mumbles, her hard exterior crumbling from her face for only a split second before the mask has slipped back into place. Ted kisses his wife on the cheek before gently moving her out of the way of the door frame where he comes to being you into a brief hug. One that you fall into without hesitation.
"Will you be alright out here on your own?" He asks you quietly and you nod your head, which is nestled on his shoulder.
"I'll be fine, Ted. Don't worry about me." Please be safe! Your mind is screaming the notion into existence.
Ted is in far more danger than you will ever be; not only was he a muggleborn, but Andromeda had a long list of estranged family members who would not bat an eyelid if Ted Tonks suddenly disappeared. In fact, they'd probably rejoice over his death, before making a martyr out of Andromeda.
He smiles at you in understanding, as if he knows what you don't voice out loud, before he turns you around so that you're both looking out of one of the kitchen windows.
"Just down that hill, about two miles away is a quaint little village. There's a café that is also a bookshop. I think you'd like it there if it ever gets too crowded here."
"Thank you." You say with a grin and he gives you a friendly squeeze before he makes his way back to his wife, who smiles softly at the two of you.
"I'll visit in a few weeks, to see if everything is still standing." Andromeda says, the ghost of a smirk lining her face as she looks between you and your usually raucous friends. Blaise and Enzo share conspiratorial looks, mischief gleaming in their eyes.
"I'll come back in a week with your first assignment. Give you all a chance to settle in." Remus says, nodding at the three newly anointed Order spies, which sobers the mischief, before he too bids farewell.
With a loud crack, they're gone.
~∞~
The following weeks were certainly odd, to say the least. It was almost like the six of you were on a neverending holiday on some days, spending your days roaming the little muggle village, but then on other days, reality would come crashing down, reminding all of you what was at stake.
It was usually Remus who delivered their assignments; it was always Remus who came once you sent your patronus to Headquarters alerting them of the boys' safe return.
About a month in, he'd arrived with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who had eyed you all with barely restrained mistrust as Remus delivered the brief: find out where Charity Burbage was being held captive and do it quickly and carefully. Luckily there was a meeting scheduled for the end of that week that the boys were expected to attend.
They had left within minutes of briefing them and with a crack, Mattheo, Theo and Enzo had left for Malfoy Manor, leaving you, Blaise and Pansy to occupy yourselves in the meantime.
Hours later, after trying to stomach a lacklustre dinner amidst your shared anxieties, the three of you are huddled together in the living room, chatting quietly about the books you were reading, when the mistakable crack of apparition sounded in the silence of night, then three loud knocks branded the front door.
Blaise took it upon himself to see who it was, and upon seeing their sullen faces, let the three boys in.
Immediately you can tell that something bad has happened.
Enzo doesn't bother greeting the three of you like he normally does as he storms off upstairs to his room; Theo heads straight for the garden door, a pack of cigarettes already in his possession and Mattheo looks positively murderous.
Blaise and Pansy seem to come to an understanding and they go in opposite directions, towards where Theo and Enzo disappeared to, leaving you and Mattheo alone. He doesn't even look like he's present in the moment and your heart aches for him.
"Théo?" You ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. But it knocks him from his stupor as he takes hold of your hand in his, soft against his angry callouses. "Lets go upstairs."
He agrees gruffly, voice low and rough, eyes shining with the onslaught on unshed tears.
Slowly the two of you make your way to the bedroom you share, silence engulfing the two of you, leaving only the sound of your breathing to fill the space. When you enter the room, Mattheo practically collapses onto the bed, body spent from the sheer exhaustion of the evening.
"What happened?" You ask softly, sitting against the headboard and guiding his head into your lap. Mattheo keens into you as you run gentle hands through his unruly hair.
The tears flow shortly after you start and your heart breaks for him.
"She's dead." He says, his voice raspy, catching in his throat. "Professor Burbage is dead."
Your breath hitches in your throat as your eyes fill with tears. Professor Burbage was sunshine personified. She always had a smile on her face despite what the Purebloods said about her affliction to muggle culture. She was beloved by all the muggleborns and the staff; was one of Dumbledore's favourites. And she was a valued member of The Orderof the Pheonix, as an emissary to the muggle authorities. She was a valuable member. Now she was gone.
"H-how did she die?" You whisper hesitantly, for you don't know if the closure of knowing would be worth it.
"My father-" Mattheo shuddered. "He set Nagini on her. He didn't even give her the mercy of a quick death."
Whenever his eyes blink shut, he can see the terror behind the teary eyes of the Professor as she stared between the four boys and Severus Snape while Nagini slithered towards her suspended body. He sees the way her eyes fill with dread as no one comes to her aid. Can see the moment of acceptance as her cries suddenly dull to a staggering silence.
He fears that he won't ever sleep peacefully again. The only saving grace is that you'll never have to witness something like it, if he has his way.
"Gods." You say in disbelief, and you hold onto Mattheo a little tighter at the thought. "We need to tell Remus."
"Not yet." He says and he abruptly sits up from his place.
"Why not? He asked you to find out what happened to her. He needs to know." You argue, but you can already see his stubbornness take effect.
"I said not yet." He retorts with anger painting his features. Your brows furrow in offence. He hadn't spoken to you in such a manner in months.
But you can see how his entire resolve has continued to crumble from the moment he stepped over the threshold. Sp instead of arguing back like you want to, for the sake of getting the information to Remus, you agree and wordlessly huide his head to rest in your lap once again.
"Okay. But as soon as we wake in the morning, I'm going to tell him."
Mattheo mumbles his response into the fabric of your leggings, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp.
He falls into a light sleep and you're content to fall asleep sat up with him, as long as he was peaceful.
~∞~
He's back there again.
In the seat at the right hand side of his father. When the three of them had arrived at Malfoy Manor for the meeting, Mattheo could feel an unmistakable shift in the air.
The way his father's face twisted into a sinister smirk made his insides curl in dreaded anticipation.
"My loyal followers!" He says, arms outstretched as he addressed the sea of Death Eaters who were watching their master in rapt attention. "I have a special treat for you all tonight."
The feeling of dread made Mattheo's stomach drop even further. He didn't need to look to see that Theo, Enzo and Draco felt the same sense of foreboding.
Voldemort wanders around the table, stopping behind where Lucius was sat, before he snatches the wizard's wand from the table with a deadly snicker of a laugh. Draco does not look at his father's humiliated expression.
"I have brought you all a little...gift of sorts."
With a flourish of Lucius' wand, and to Mattheo's utter horror, Charity Burbage appears in front of their very eyes, arms and legs bound together with a brutal looking rope and mouth magically gagged shut.
He feels sick.
He barely hears as his father mocks her, telling the Death Eaters that she was encouraging young wizards and witches to mate with Muggles, thus polluting the Wizarding World with more Halfbloods and Muggleborns all while she cannot defend herself or ask those she recognises for help.
All Mattheo can comprend is that Nagini has found her way towards her dangling prey and Charity's magically bound gag has been removed.
"Severus.." her pleading eyes fall on her old old. "Please! Help me!"
Snape's eyes have not moved from a spot on the wall behind her flailing body. They don't move from that spot as Nagini prepares to strike.
Mattheo grips the arm rests of his seat as he stares blankly ahead, the sounds of his Professor's shrieks and painful screams as her flesh is torn apart is all his can hear.
And then her screams turn into a familiar tone; instead of his Professor, it's you who is suspended above the snake. Your horrifying screams permeate every corner of his skull until its all he can hear.
You're begging him to help you, but he cannot move. His limbs are glued to his seat as his father laughs manically at your expense.
His mind won't even grant him to ability to block it out. Your screams are all he can hear until his father finally utters the killing blow.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Your body drops to a heap on the floor. And then, Nagini feasts.
Mattheo wakes with a start, only to be met by your wary face staring down at him. Gods he feels like he can't breathe.
"I know. I know." He hears your reassurance as clear as day, but he can't breathe.
You place one of his clammy feeling hands against your chest, where your heart beats calmly despite the gravity of the situation. He feels the way you exaggerate your breathing, hoping he can follow.
He does so and eventually he calms down enough to wipe the sweat from his hands and his forehead.
"You're okay. Your safe." You're still holding his hand to your chest, thumb stroking over the small scars that litter his knuckles.
"It was you." He mumbles breathlessly, tears falling from his onyx eyes. "You were in her place and I did nothing to save you. I couldn't save you."
Your heart breaks for him.
"Oh love." You whisper, pulling his body into your's and wrapping him into a tight hug. "I'm here and I'm safe. I'm not going anywhere."
"It felt so real." He says into the skin of your neck, his hot breath fanning iver your sensitive skin.
"It wasn't real, Mattheo." You reaffirm, moving so that your hands cradled both sides of his face, your eyes meeting his. "It was only a dream. I'm not going anywhere."
"You promise?" He hated that he sounded so weak...so vulnerable. But he could always be himself around you, could always count on you to make him feel anything but empty and numb.
"I promise you, Mattheo Riddle." you say, your lips tilting up with a slight smile that he mirrors. You press a light kiss to his chapped lips which he reciprocates in earnest.
Your souls ignite as one and it feels as if a weight has simultaneously been placed and lifted on your shoulders all at once.
Remus would be alerted in the next few hours, but for now, Mattheo let you guide him to a lying position where he layed safely in your arms.
He did not dream of your screams for the rest of the night, but it would haunt him for the rest of his life. That he was certain of.
~∞~
this one is so so so short but i've actually taken so long to get this one written up
also from this point theres just a whole lot of angst (just a little prewarning🫡)
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taglist:
(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)
@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @benwadsworthsgf @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18
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hitomisuzuya · 3 hours
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hellooo, how are you? <3
this is my first ever request, so i'm a bit hesitant with how to word it 😶
i've been thinking about reverse isekai wanderer x reader, where reader has to like, teach him how our modern world works and how to blend in!
i did think about how to make it nsfw, but i have absolutely no idea how it would lead to it 😭
maybe like, he learns how to film videos and takes advantage of it, idk 😶
anyways, no rush and absolutely no pressure to write it!
love your fics, have a nice day 🫶🏻
Wanderer (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Reverse Isekai. Smut. Consensual recording. Worship. Biting/marking. Creampie. General head canons in beginning.
Hello, dear❤️ Your wording was just fine.
Being transported into your world was something of a shock to Wanderer, and he was very good at hiding it. But, he supposed being dropped in on someone who is already hopelessly in love with him, worshipping him entirely in every way made the transition easier.
You soon became one big distraction for him.
Wanderer enjoys a lot of things in the reality. Coffee makers, video games, cell phones, YOU, to name a few. And trashy, reality TV shows. The trashier the better, he ate that shit up. When he discovered what a DVR was, most of your storage went to recording reality TV shows.
It'd been easy for him to find an image to fit in. A lot of dark clothing.
However, cellphones, web cams, and in particular the recording feature was what he enjoyed quite frankly abusing. And this time, Wanderer was getting two angles.
One angle your laptop was recording every thing on it's web cam. Another angle Wanderer was recording on his cellphone.
You were on your back on your bed, naked, your legs spread as you looked up at him. One of his hands was holding his cell phone, the other was wrapped around his cock. His cell phone was recording the perfect view for him, his cock rubbing your pussy into a wet mess.
What made this twice as erotic for Wanderer is that two of your fingers were holding your rapidly drooling folds apart to give him a better view. The head of his leaking cock rubbing against your throbbing clit, his phone recording your soft moans loud and clear as you grinded up against his cock.
"You know, when I first saw you, I never would've guessed you were such a slut," He loves how his degradation made you moan louder, a new coat of wet soaking onto his cock.
"Oh, but see, here is the thing, Scara," You said shakily, reaching up with trembling fingers to caress his cheek. Wanderer angled the phone up. He was able to see the fast forming bruises and bite marks all over your body. You were utterly and possessively bit up.
As much as he would've loved to have recorded marking you on his phone, he needed both hands to hold you down while you squirmed and writhed, rubbing your pussy needily on his hard cock. Your webcam recorded everything perfectly though.
"I am one, for you," You continued. Your arm was above your head in a submissive manner, slowly grinding your clit on his cock.
Wanderer groaned, pushing the tip of his cock at your entrance. Your cunt immediately tightened around it. He always craved this type of worship. He turned his cheek into your hand, his cock pulsing and aching to be buried inside of you.
You skimmed your thumb across his cheek. "Promise me something?" You asked, rolling your hips up to push his cock inside of you more.
"Y-Yeah?" Wanderer moaned shakily. He would promise you whatever you want if it meant he got to record you falling apart for him.
You looked up at him, your image with all your possessive bruises on display, and said, "Cum inside of me." Your eyes were filled with desperation, and deeply welled adoration. It only made his cock harder.
"Fuck, I wouldn't have it any other way," Wanderer moaned, his finger swiftly hitting the stop button and tossing his phone aside. His beautiful fingers found tight purchase on your thighs, holding them apart.
He masked soft whimpers behind his moans as he pushed his cock inside of you, bottoming out with a harsh, needy snap of his hips. You cried out in pleasure as the head of his cock nudged into your sweet spot.
Wanderer couldn't wait to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock while he watched this with you, sucking him off while he degraded you about what a slut you looked and sounded like.
Your breasts bounced from the harshness of Wanderer's thrusts, your hands fisting your sheets tightly as pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes. Your legs shook in his grasp, a shiver sending a extra jolt of pleasure through you as he caresses the insides of your thighs with his thumbs.
Wanderer mocked your moans to hide his whimpers, your cunt tight and warm on his cock, sucking him in with each thrust. "Good fucking girl, cry for me, worship me," He laughed shakily, amused by how fucked out you looked, moaning and twitching as he impaled you dumb on his cock. Drool pooling from one corner of your mouth, your eyes getting glassier the closer you got to cumming.
He got off on knowing your poor little brain was so far gone, you couldn't grasp how to form coherent words. He let go of one of your thighs to give your clit a light smack, ushering in your orgasm.
He groaned as you creamed on his cock, giving him ample lubrication to to fuck his cock deeper into you. You were limp and pliable in his grasp, your body shuddering in pleasure as his cock pulsed cum inside of you.
It was so satisfying for Wanderer knowing your webcam recorded the perfect view of his cum leaking from your cunt.
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marloree · 2 days
Text
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TXT and their ways to celebrate your birthday
Pairing: Best Friend! TXT members (separately) × Reader
Genre: fluff, slight crack (?), headcanons
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Hueningkai
I feel like he would be the type to prepare something warm and cozy for you. Be it a picnic in the nearby park or spending the day at his place where he prepares every single thing for you so you don't have to worry on your special day and just relax.
Gifts: plushies, little cute surprise gifts, things that reminded him of you, simply things you were ever caught mentioning you liked.
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Beomgyu
I feel like he's the type to bring you to his house or come to yours and just play you songs until you get tired or your neighbours get tired of the noise you two make.
Definitely would help you with buying the food and with the overall preparations.
Gifts: he definitely would never gift you his portrait as a joke
Anything you like, really.
Or any funny silly thing he can come up with as a gift for you.
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Soobin
He definitely would start wishing you right at 12 am by texting. Or, if he for sure knows that you aren't asleep, he'd lowkey come to your house at midnight just to be the first one to wish and gift you.
I feel like you could celebrate your birthday with him at a small cozy café or a restaurant nearby, without having to worry about cleaning all the mess if you were to celebrate at your place.
Gifts: if we're talking of him as a kpop idol, then he'd totally gift you every version of their albums; if we're talking non-idol! au, then - flowers + something you like.
Hear me out, he would totally give you a bigger bouquet of flowers than any boyfriend ever would.
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Taehyun
He's definitely the one to be in for surprises.
If he starts acting all mysterious a good week before it's your birthday, don't even get surprised. The guy definitely comes up with something new and outstanding every year. He almost acts like it's his birthday instead of yours. Seriously, he plans out every single detail.
Be prepared to walk somewhere for half of your special day.
A new restaurant on the other end of the city, a nice place by the beach he recently discovered, or just the right place from where the whole city is seen - get your feet ready.
Gifts: the guy seriously seems to read your mind, or, rather, he's so observant to the point where he seems to remember every single word you've ever said. He'll definitely gift you that very thing you've mentioned only once a few months ago.
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Yeonjun
He's up for everything and anything, really.
Do you want to throw a massive birthday party or enjoy the day with him only? Do you want to do something outstanding or just relax and have fun? Do you want to celebrate at a restaurant or go for something extra? He's always in.
Gifts: I think he'd be the type to directly ask you what exactly you want for your birthday. Don't hesitate to ask, though, he'll literally buy you whatever you want without looking at the prize tag twice. It's your special day, after all.
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heevanly · 2 days
Text
.ᐟ TEASER: Run The Night : ENHYPEN (엔하이픈)
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𝐬yn. : when y/n agreed to take on a mysterious job that no one else in her team wanted, she expected some hardships, but nothing like she’s experiencing thus far. meeting up with a completely different group of young detectives makes life a bit easier though, especially when there’s seven of them. she just never could’ve fathomed the horrific scenes that would unfurl in front of all of their eyes and with no way to contact her original team, all she can do is move forward.
𝐰arnings. / 𝐭ags. : (18+)! series. investigator au. virus / zombie au. late 1990s era but it's not really talked about. horror. body horror. gore. enha members as main characters. ej from &team mentioned. no smut. swearing. humor. not really romantical but there’s flirting and tension sooooo who knows in the end. no character death but a lot of character harm. fem reader. ocs used for plot convenience.
𝐧ote. : new series!! i’ve been playing crow country and it’s kinda based off this (at least w/ some loose plot points and location wise, with it taking place in a theme park). i’m still debating whether or not to make an endgame relationship or keeping it ambiguous. i was supposed to upload this teaser days ago but things unfortunately did NOT go as planned. lmk if you’d like to get tagged! ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
𝐭aglist. : @graythecoffeebean @livsateez @velvethana
© @heevanly 2024 | do NOT copy, plagiarize, reupload, or steal my works.
RELEASE DATE : JUNE 7TH-10TH, 2024
TEASER WC : little less than 2.6k
the drive was boring, the dull gray road and the blend of the dark branches blurring together and you have to blink a few times to clear your eyes and refocus. the pale yellow road dividers were faded, chipped, and cracked, allowing weeds to pop up every so often.
sighing you turn the radio on but nothing but static reaches your ears, you suspected as much as you’re pretty sure you passed into nothing world little less than an hour ago, the curse of this damn theme park being so far out.
elsher’s kingdom wasn’t a place you often thought about visiting but considering you were above the theme park’s age demographic that made sense, admittingly the place had gathered your attention when it had opened but for a different reason. it was constructed pretty much out of nowhere, the man who owned it was a mystery, he was rich, had a family he kept out of the public eye, and barely made any public outings unless it was for business purposes. 
the theme park was big, eight different exploratory areas all with its own individual “theme”. it wasn’t incredibly massive, like some of the other theme parks within the country, but it was local and it was fun.
you weren’t coming here for fun though. the mission you were given flashes across your mind. no one knows who made the request for someone (solo, they had specified), to investigate a missing person and discover the reason for the park’s shut down, but they anonymously gave a large sum of money that would really help fund the office and with a promise to give more both for the one to investigate and the entire office upon completion of the job.
no one really wanted it, suspicion was heavily written all over the request especially with the lack of clarity in it, but the money was something of interest for everyone. you took up on the offer quickly, your natural curiosity about the place being a part of the reason and well… money was certainly a good thing to have as it was a bit tight for you at the moment.
so here you were, driving down a dusty, somewhat abandoned road, to try and find a missing person who was last seen at the park and and find out why it was shut down in the first place. all for some money that wasn’t even specified in the letter. you hope the money was good and that the job was easy, even though there was an inkling in the back of your mind that that wouldn’t be the case.
the theme park comes into view and you pull off to enter the parking lot, scanning the area as you park you notice there was a few cars scattered around. none of them seemed dusty, in fact they all seemed like brand new cars or at least parked there recently, save for one bright lime green older looking mustang fastback. odd but you don’t think much of it since this place is abandoned after all, teenagers looking for a thrill were bound to be roaming around and you’re sure there’d be a security guard or two as well.
hopping out the car you take a mental note of everything on yourself, flashlight, a fully charged camera, a phone, notepad, pencils, your id and other credentials, and the file.
pulling out the file to read it gives some information on the person you’d be trying to find as well as some other information; “jihoon elsher-yoon, 52 year old male. theme park owner and landowner of elsher’s kingdom. last known location elsher’s kingdom estate, first reported missing to police by daughter, hana, however it is noted that the last person known to see him is business partner, moon youngho. reported missing to head detective lee heeseung.” you hadn’t been able to read this back at the office as it was shoved into your hands by your boss as you were about to leave. you close the file, and ponder about it some, sounds like hana was the one who submitted the request too then.
“i wonder if one of these cars is this detective’s then..” you think aloud, looking back at the cars. there were a few too many so either he brought backup or you’re gonna have a fun discussion about breaking and entering with a few kids.
you walk towards the closest cars to at least gather some intel about what to possibly expect inside, all the cars were empty of people, trash in some and papers scattered in another. you walk towards the mustang and slow down upon noticing a pool of dried blood on the ground near the driver's door.
frowning, you crouch down to get closer to it. it was fully dried, but it wasn’t discolored so it happened recently enough which didn’t appease your mind in any way. you take a note on it in your notepad and stand back up, the driver's seat has some papers and you try and read what you can. the papers seem to be business in nature, addressed to a “mr. elsher-yoon”, this must be his car then, you snap a quick picture. at least this proves he’s here.. potentially, you doubt he’d leave his car behind.
the gate to enter the park is unlocked and you head on in.
your footsteps echo along the tiled flooring, the theme park is empty, old bits of uneaten but ant infested bits of food scattered, multiple cardboard containers that must’ve held popcorn thrown about, napkins, popsicle sticks, wristbands, and whatever else are littered around too. trash cans are here and there, but you don’t think you can stomach the idea of rummaging through them.
there's a ticket booth to your left and you take a peek within the open counter window, an antiseptic sits on behind the counter and you grab it, “who knows.. i may need it.” you think to yourself as you stuff it into your bag.
you continue walking down, the faded and ripped posters on the wall tug at your heart a little, people were really here one day and then never again the next. it just makes you all a bit more determined to find mr. elsher-yoon and why the park even closed down.
there's a bathroom coming up and you shrug before entering in, doesn’t hurt to make sure everything is clear.
the bathroom is musty, the air stale as if the door was finally opened for the first time in months, which.. if you think about it, you opening it probably was the first time it had been opened in months. the floor is dirty, dust and dirt staining the once white pristine tiles. a noise of rushing water is heard and you turn your head to look in the other corner where theres a small puddle of water coming from a broken toilet, the drain in the center of the room allowing the room to at least not flood.
deciding to not step in that direction, you shine your light at the other corner, in the midst of all the grime, blood splatters are everywhere and you frown.
“where the hell could that have come from..?” you mutter to yourself, just when you were about to check it out, you hear talking from behind you and you quickly rush behind the bathroom door.
faded voices are heard just outside the door, “i’m telling you jay, something entered the bathroom.” a voice filters through, muffled by the door but still loud enough to be heard.
the other one, jay you assume, sighs, “jungwon, if you dragged me away from the group and turns out nothing is in there, i’m serious about you having to go back.”
jungwon, you now know who the owner of the first voice is, scoffs, “we just shot at a bunch of.. things.. and you’re telling me i have to go back because i'm nervous about what’s hiding around in this park? seriously?”
the door is slightly pushed open and you smush yourself as best as you can against the wall as it opens up further, “i’m just saying.. you being skittish isn’t helping us move about any easier.”
the two then enter the bathroom and you get a good look at their backs, both men, but you had deduced that by their voices, they're both of similar height, one is a bit taller than the other. the taller one, having entered first you assume is jay and the other, jungwon. their outfits are similar to detective get-ups but they’ve definitely been modified, probably in a way to help them in their line of work.
“nothing in here dude.” jay turns his head to look at jungwon and you think quickly about your options here.
you could slip away, but that leaves you out in the open and when they come back out, if you can’t find somewhere else to hide and wait for them to leave you’d be caught. you could continue to wait in here, but the door is closing and if it closes fully before they turn around you’d be caught. you could.. draw out your gun and ask about them, but they also mentioned shooting at something so you guess they both have guns on them.
you’re also unaware of what their intentions are, but you hope that it’s at least positive.
“i’m going back to heeseung now, you can stay and look around here if that’ll help ease your mind some.” the taller one mutters out, the door thankfully still open enough to cover your body so he leaves without noticing you, however he shuts the door on his way out and you’re alone with the other one.
heeseung… that’s the same name as the head detective on the file you have, so maybe their intentions are good. you rest your hand on your holster in case, since in your line of work, you really can never be too cautious when running into other people.
you creep quietly to cover the door, your best bet was to at least block the door, so the other one can’t hear you in any way and to prevent the one in front of you from running out and getting the attention of who left.
“what’s your name.” you speak up, voice low and the man in front of you jumps up, spinning around quickly and braces himself as he looks up at you, you see his eyes scan your body and you feel them land on the hand that's on your holster and you see him start to reach for his own, you had been right about that, he did have a gun on him.
your eyes narrow and you bring your gun out quicker, aiming it at the ground. “i wouldn’t reach for that, i’ll have shot you before you even get that out.” 
the man stops and swallows, “jungwon.”
you huff some air out of your nose, he’s too good for his own good, he was honest about his name but at least you know that he’s not a bad person, as far as you can tell at least.
“y/n.” you offer your own and you see him relax if only a little bit, “what’re you doing here?”
he frowns, “i’m not at liberty to tell you that, but i can ask you the same thing.”
you smirk and offer his answer right back at him, “i’m also not at liberty to tell you that. but considering what you got on i can imagine you’ve been sent to investigate this place, am i wrong?”
jungwon falters at your words and that tells you all you have to know that you hit the mark on that, “i am too.”
“too what?”
“sent to investigate this place," with your free hand you grab your id and flash it in his direction, “y/n l/n. special agent l/n, but just keep it to y/n please. i’ve been sent to investigate a missing person.”
“fbi? you’re fbi?” jungwon asks, eyes scanning up and down at you, suspicion in his tone.
you shake your head, “no, i’m just a part of an investigation team operation that specializes in matters like these, hence my title.”
jungwon lets out a noise of understanding and you now realize how awkward this sort’ve is and holster your gun once more, “uh, i apologize for that earlier, i hadn’t expected to hear other people so soon.”
jungwon waves his hand around, “it’s fine, i’d have done the same thing. if it helps you out some, i’m also here to find a missing person.”
“i figured out as much.”
he tilts his head and you couldn’t help but find it cute, “how so?”
“the other one said the name heeseung, my file also mentions a heeseung.”
“ah.. if it’s about a lee heeseung then you’d be correct in it being the same person.”
“sounds like i’m correct then.”
jungwon stands straighter, visibly more relaxed now, “you don’t mind if i bring you to my group then right? if we’re doing the same thing, it might be easier for us all, an even team is better anyways, there’s seven of us and..”
you cut him off, “that’s fine, i’m here solo too and it’d be nice to have some help, this park is massive after all.”
jungwon nods, “then let’s see if we can catch up to jay, uh.. he’s the one that was with me by the way.”
you nod and he leaves the bathroom, you’re about to head out after him before you spot a magazine laying on the ground, you pick it up and a polaroid is on the front cover, the title of the magazine reads, “PARANORMAL HAPPENING AT ABANDONED THEME PARK. FACT OR FICTION?”
you flip the page and read what’s written, “self proclaimed paranormal investigator and photographer byun eunjoo, known mainly as ej sends a polaroid he took of a supposed paranormal being at elsher’s kingdom. he proclaims it was the first of many he spotted. however us here at GS magazine are not entirely convinced, what do you think about it readers. we believe ej here may need some more photos before he convinces us of anything!”
the polaroid looks as if a humanoid figure is walking around, but the image is grainy and you can’t make out much else other than the figure and a few weird large pustules on its body, they seem to be embedded into the skin and are green in color. you shudder at the sight before ripping the polaroid out and placing it in your bag. talk about odd, but anything that can give you at least something about this park is better than nothing, after all you still have that part of the job to complete.
jungwon peeks his head back into the bathroom you must’ve been taking a bit longer than you thought, “y/n? you coming? what’re you doing just standing there?”
you snap out of your gaze and drop the magazine back onto the ground, “ah sorry, this magazine had something that caught my attention, s’all.”
“right well hurry it up, we gotta catch up to jay.”
you nod and take one last peek at the magazine before walking out the door and meeting outside with jungwon.
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youtube
New Rule: Gender Apartheid | Real Time with Bill Maher
And finally, New Rule: if you're out protesting for a couple of hours wearing this...
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... you have to go all the way and spend an afternoon running errands wearing one of these.
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You can't side with the people who ruthlessly oppress women without at least getting a taste of what you're supporting.
Well, now that summer is here and the Hamas-backing college protesters have dispersed back to their summer internships at Goldman Sachs, I thought it might be a good time to say this: I actually admire your youthful idealism, and our world would be poorer without it. Much like your parents who just wasted 300 grand on that ignorance factory you call a college.
Not that I think it's your fault, being this poorly educated and morally confused. That takes a village. Shitty schools, overindulgent parents, social media, that priest who rubbed lotion on you.
But three cheers to you for at least having the impulse to seek a cause in something bigger than yourself. It's just that the one you picked, you missed the boat by a fucking mile.
But here's the good news. You want a cause? Cuz I totally got one for you. Apartheid. Yeah, apartheid, the thing you've been shouting about with Israel for months. Never mind that Israeli Arabs are actually full citizens. You learned that word from a 2 Chainz song and discovered that protesting South Africa's apartheid in the 80s was a righteous cause, and so it was. To this day, when celebrities are asked, who is the person they most admire, one name is always the safest choice.
So, naturally, when you heard that Israel was an apartheid state it gave you such a boner you literally pitched a tent.
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You knew how wrong it was when tens of millions of South Africans had been treated like second class citizens just because of their race.
But here's the thing. Today, right now, hundreds of millions of women are treated worse than second class citizens. When you mandate that one category of human beings don't even have the right to show their face, that's apartheid. And it goes on in a lot of countries.
For the last couple years, women in Iran have been saying, "take this hijab and shove it." Because in 2022, a young woman named Mahsa Amini was arrested for wearing her mandatory hijab incorrectly and then died in police custody. And now security forces have killed over 500 people protesting her death and this obvious human rights violation. How about defunding those police?
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Amnesty International says that, "Iranian authorities are waging a war on women that subjects them to constant surveillance beatings sexual violence and detention." What P. Diddy calls a hotel stay.
In Iran, MeToo isn't a movement, it's what a woman says when another woman says, my life sucks.
Yasmine Muhammad is a human rights activist who got married off to a Muslim man with fundamentalist views about women not exactly uncommon in the Muslim world. He forced her to wear the niqab all the time, including once beating her because she took her hijab off at home, because the apartment had a window through which people might see in. And this was in Vancouver.
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Here's what Yasmine said about veiling.
"It just suppresses your humanity entirely. It's like a portable sensory deprivation chamber and you are no longer connected to humanity. You can't see properly. You can't hear properly. You can't speak properly. People can't see you. You can only see them. Just little things. Passing people on the street and just making eye contact and smiling, that's gone. You're no longer part of this world, and so you very quickly just shrivel up into nothing under there."
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And that's my answer when someone says "Islamophobe."
Really, feminists? Come on, there's got to be a happy medium between a husband making his wife wear this, and a husband making his wife wear this.
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I know 1619 was bad, but this is happening right now, right under your nose rings. And it's not just the clothes. 15 countries in the Middle East, including Gaza, have laws that require women to obey their husbands. Laws. Not just Harrison Butker's opinion.
And those societies also have guardianship laws, which means a woman needs permission from her husband to work, to travel, to leave the house, to go to school, to get medical attention. Nothing?
Honor killings, where women are murdered by their own fathers and-or brothers happen so frequently they can't even have an accurate account of how many.
In 59 countries, there are no laws against sexual harassment in the workplace, and many have no laws against domestic violence or spousal rape. 20 countries have marry-your-rapist laws. Multiple societies have laws about what jobs women can and can't do. Make a Barbie movie about that. 30 countries practice female genital mutilation, and 650 million women alive today were married as children.
Kids, if you really want to change the world and not just tie up Monday morning traffic, this is the apartheid that desperately needs your attention. Gender apartheid. This is what should be the social justice issue of your time. How about, from the river to the sea, every woman shall be free?
But in reality, it's not an issue at all. For one reason: the people who are doing it aren't white. I hate to have to be the one to break it to you kids, but non-white people can do bad things too. Now, white on black racism certainly has been of one of history's most horrific scourges. But also, it's true that in today's world being non-white means you can get away with murder.
So good on you kids for following your instinct to protest social injustice. Just remember, when it comes to finding a cause, pulling your head out of your ass is an important rite of passage.
==
They won't do it not just because it's Intersectionally inconvenient, but also because it would require admitting that, as citizens of first world countries and students of Ivy League universities, not only do they not live in a "patriarchy," but they're some of the freest, most privileged, most self-determining people who have ever lived in the world at any time, ever.
And, having spent decades crafting a narrative of being long-suffering and "oppressed," they'd have to surrender the significant social, political and economic capital that narrative affords, by fighting for women in Iran, Gaza, Afghanistan and other countries to have the same rights and privileges they take for granted. And regularly spit on.
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tobiasdrake · 3 days
Note
What are your thoughts on Ultra Instinct? I've seen stuff talking about how it's an extension of a lot of the concepts and ideas mentioned by Goku's various masters - do you agree?
Ultra Instinct is cool but also kind of weird, in that it's. Like. Okay.
Like, the premise behind Ultra Instinct is being able to move your body instinctively in reaction to incoming attacks. You don't even think about it; You just move reflexively to block, parry, or counter your foe.
This is a highly advanced martial arts technique in the real world that we call. Um. "Practicing martial arts".
Like. This is the thing that's always been missing (and still is) from Dragon Ball's martial arts: The part where the characters practice martial arts. A lot of martial arts is spent drilling down technique. Learning specific motions and specific ways of standing and such, then drilling them again and again so that, in the heat of the moment, your body will reflexively make those motions.
It's training your body to instinctively react in certain ways, because you won't have time to stop and think about where you should place your hand when a fist is coming at your nose. While there is some amount of thought that goes into where you should throw your next punch, you also have to be able to just move in the ways that your art teaches.
Ultra Instinct is just. That. But presented as a brand new super-ability that only the greatest martial artists have ever heard of. So to a certain extent, it's presenting basic information as if it were a brand new revelation. It's not entirely that, but there is a degree of that to it.
DBS has a problem with "Meet the NEW THING, it's something we were already doing but NOW IT'S NEW." DBS: Super Hero has a moment where Vegeta discovers the true nature of Jiren's power and receives praise for his superior understanding of martial arts.
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You know. Because this is something Goku needed to hear. He's just a dumb brute who's only ever worked out his muscles and has no understanding of the spiritual and mental side of martial arts.
This concept, this brand new concept of releasing your energy only at the precise moment of attack, is something that Goku has never--
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--absolutely never even tried to comprehend before. This is definitely a brand new ability that only Jiren's capable of, and that Vegeta understands and is able to analyze while Goku's big, stupid brute brain just can't work out.
You know how Goku is; The way he just does push-ups all day in a Gravity Chamber while Vegeta's out there masterfully honing his art and figuring out new ways of getting more versatility out of the same old techniques. Yep, that's Goku and Vegeta, alright.
But I digress. This isn't about DBS's writing quality, it's about Ultra Instinct. And. Yeah. While the way the series portrays "moving on instinct" like it's some brand new thing that these highly experienced martial artists have never comprehended before... there is some genuine super-ness to the technique.
Because it's not just drilling your body to move reflexively. It's. It's basically the Ultimate Eye.
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In Fullmetal Alchemist, the character Wrath has the Ultimate Eye as his signature power. It instantly absorbs all sensory data available to him and programs his body to react optimally to whatever situation he happens to be in.
Wrath has a supremely aggressive fighting style where he is always on the attack. He's able to manage this because the Ultimate Eye is taking care of his defense; His body auto-dodges and auto-blocks all incoming attacks with only the smallest and subtlest motions necessary, allowing him to focus purely on aggression. It also lets him pull off insane moves like escaping an exploding train by running along the debris or splitting a bullet in half with his sword.
As long as he has his Ultimate Eye, Wrath is basically invincible. Not completely, and they do come up with clever ways to beat him in the end. It's possible to outfight the Ultimate Eye. It's just. It's very, very hard. A lot of people die trying.
Ultra Instinct is basically that, but as a Dragon Ball technique.
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From a narrative perspective, this is a hell of a thing to give to Son Goku. It has the opposite problem from Ultra Ego, which sounds stupid and also has to lose fights so it never gets a chance to shine. Utlra Instinct, the ability to perfectly dodge all attacks forever with no limits, honestly sounds too powerful. How would Goku ever lose a fight if he could fight like Wrath?
Fullmetal Alchemist had some clever answers to that, because it wasn't a battle shonen. Wrath was a puzzle to be solved.
Son Goku is not a puzzle to be solved. And, like Vegeta, he's not allowed to win fights anymore. So his Ultra Instinct has to lose. A lot. He loses to just sorta running out of UI mana I guess.
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He loses to Power Levels.
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He loses to stamina.
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In fact, stamina becomes its biggest drawback. It's an established feature of the form that Ultra Instinct just. Sort of. Gets shittier, the longer Goku uses it.
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Oh wow, that's really convenient. That saves you from having to come up with plausible ways for the opponent to defeat UI. The form is now, by design, meant to go off and look really cool for the first bit of the fight but then fizzle out and stop being effective so the villain can win. That's not just Goku being bad at it anymore; It's baked into the concept. Even the mastered silver-hair form works like that.
Though, unlike Vegeta's Ultra Ego, Goku does get to score a cool-looking victory with the silver-haired form to show off how amazing it is when it works as intended.
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I genuinely don't know why it turns his hair silver. This is not a transformation, it's a technique. I think it's supposed to signify that he's like a quasi-Angel when he's doing this. All of the Angels have white hair. But Beerus uses the technique too and his fur doesn't turn white when he's doing it.'
So I kinda get it but it also just feels like "IN STORES NOW". We haven't had a new Super Saiyan form since Blue so here ya go, a vanilla-flavored Super Saiyan.
But, point is, Ultra Instinct actually gets the big win to show off how cool it us. Uh. Before Goku immediately takes it back because he's now allowed to solve plots by being a great fighter anymore.
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In fairness, this is not a Dumb DBS Goku moment. This is consistent behavior for Goku. He did this for Piccolo too. He didn't give Vegeta a Senzu but he did let him go in the hopes of fighting him again some day.
Moro's just the first villain ever to go "Hahaha sucker! Forget 'some day'. I'll get stronger and we'll fight again now!"
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Which is a fun twist on Goku's favorite way of ending a fight. It's about time this bit him in the ass.
Overall, Ultra Instinct is... complicated. It's a cool idea if a bit overly proud of itself; A concept that's pretty super, but not as super as DBS thinks it is. And also a way-overpowered ability to give to Goku, resulting in it needing to be nerfed in-universe in order to preserve his ability to keep getting shitstomped by his opponent in every fight.
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zwedexx · 3 days
Text
Day 1 - Evelyne Viens x Italian Roma Reader
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Summary: After Ev signs for Roma, she wants to discover the city so you offer to take her around.
WC: 1,574
A/N: The Italian is all from my brain so if there are any mistakes let me know. And all the locations actually exist and I've been to them
“Qualcuno ha qualcosa stasera? (Anyone have anything tonight)” Lucia asked the group.
“Non stasera, (Not tonight)” Giada shrugged, shaking her head.
“Stasera faccio i gamberetti con aglio e olio. Venite? (“Tonight I'm making shrimp with garlic and oil pasta. Are you coming?)” Lucia offered, a teasing smile playing on her lips.
“Va be (OK)” You reply with a grin.
“Manu. Vieni? (Manu, you coming)”
“Si, Si (Yes, Yes)”
“Perché sei così distratto? (Why you so distracted?)” Giada teased, nudging Manuela with her elbow.
“Ma quella laggiù chi è? (But that one there, who is she?)” Manuela asked, her eyes fixed on a group of people across the gym.
Everyone turned to look. There stood a few staff members, your captain, and an unfamiliar face. You’d seen rumors on social media about Roma signing a new player, but nothing had been confirmed yet. A wave of curiosity washed over you as you took in the new face.
“Here are some of your new teammates,” Elisa announced, motioning to your group. “That’s Lucia, Manuela, Giada, Elena, Moeka, Valentina, Camelia, Emilie, and y/n.”
“Ciao,” you all greeted.
“Hi, I’m Evelyne,” the new player introduced herself.
You couldn't help but notice the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. She seemed both nervous and eager, and you found her energy contagious. There was something about her that piqued your interest. During training, you found yourself stealing glances at Evelyne. She was clearly talented, her footwork precise and her passes sharp. Her speed and agility on the field were impressive, but it was her smile that really caught your attention. Lucia noticed your distraction and smirked.
“But you like uh Pasta and uh. Come si dice gamberetti in inglese?(How do you say shrimp in English)." Lucia asked Evelyne during a break.
"Shrimp." Emilie interjected.
“Yes, shrimp. Do you like?” Lucia repeated.
“Yes, I do,” Evelyne replied, laughing lightly.
“Okay, then you should come over for supper,” Lucia invited.
At dinner, the group gathered around Lucia’s cozy dining table, the smell of pasta and shrimp filling the air. Evelyne sat between you and Camelia, looking more relaxed than she had earlier.
“So, Evelyne, where are you from?” Emilie asked, curiosity evident in her voice.
“I’m from Canada,” Evelyne answered. “Québec, to be exact.”
“How do you like Roma so far?” Elisa inquired, passing the bread dish around.
“It’s beautiful, and everyone’s been really welcoming,” Evelyne replied, smiling gratefully at each of you.
“What do you miss most about home?” Valentina asked. "Probably my family and friends"
As the conversation flowed, you learned more about Evelyne’s journey to Roma, her love for the game, and her excitement about this new chapter. There was a warmth in her presence that made you feel at ease. The way she spoke, with such passion and enthusiasm, drew you in.
-
“Ok, ciao, ciao,” everyone called out as the evening wound down.
Evelyne turned to you as you walked her to your car. “Thank you for driving me back.”
“Oh, no problem. Where are you staying?” you asked.
“The club got me a room at the Cardo Roma,” she replied.
The drive was filled with a comfortable silence, broken occasionally by soft conversations about the city. It felt natural, as if you had known her longer than just a day.
“Have you lived in Rome your whole life?” Evelyne asked, turning to you.
“Well, not in the city center. I grew up in Fiano Romano but I’ve lived here in the city since I started my professional career,” you explained. “Have you ever been to Rome before?”
“No, I’ve always wanted to come but never got the chance,” Evelyne admitted.
“We have a day off tomorrow. I could take you around. I’ll be your own personal tour guide,” you offered, excitement bubbling in your voice.
“I would love that,” she responded, her eyes lighting up.
-
The next day, you took Evelyne to all your favorite spots in Rome. You started at the Colosseum, marveling at its grandeur.
From there, you made your way to the Trevi Fountain, one of Rome's most iconic landmarks. The sound of cascading water and the sight of the grand fountain took Evelyne's breath away. You walked closer, weaving through the crowd until you found a perfect spot.
“You have to throw a coin in,” you said, guiding her to the edge of the fountain. Gently, you placed your hands on her shoulders, turning her so her back was to the fountain.
“Close your eyes and make a wish,” you instructed softly, your hands lingering a moment longer than necessary.
Evelyne's eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief second, you found yourself mesmerized by her serene expression. She took a deep breath, her lips curling into a small, hopeful smile before she tossed the coin over her shoulder. The coin arced gracefully through the air before splashing into the water.
You quickly snapped a photo, capturing the moment. Her laughter, bright and infectious, filled the air as she opened her eyes.
“What did you wish for?” you asked playfully, a teasing grin spreading across your face.
“Can’t tell you,” she replied with a wink, her smile mysterious. “Or it won’t come true.”
You chuckled, "Fair enough"
The two of you stood there for a moment longer, basking in the magical atmosphere of the Trevi Fountain. The bustling energy of the crowd seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you in a world of your own.
“This restaurant here,” you said as you pointed out a charming little eatery nearby, “has the best gelato, cannoli, and arancini in the city.”
Inside the quaint restaurant, the aroma of freshly baked pastries and rich coffee beans greeted you. You ordered a variety of treats, and the two of you found a cozy corner to sit in. You handed Evelyne a cannoli, and as she took a bite, her eyes widened in delight.
“This is amazing!” she exclaimed, a bit of powdered sugar dusting her lips.
You laughed, reaching out to gently wipe the sugar away with your thumb. “Told you. This place is a hidden gem.”
As you shared bites of arancini and sips of espresso, your fingers brushed occasionally, each touch sending a thrill through you. Evelyne's laughter and the way she savored each bite made the moment feel intimate and special.
Later, you took her to the Aventine Keyhole. “Look through here,” you said, guiding her gently. “You’re actually looking at three countries at once: Italy, Malta, and Vatican City.”
“That’s incredible,” Evelyne murmured, her breath catching at the sight. You stood close behind her, your hand resting on her back as she looked through the keyhole. The warmth of her body against yours was intoxicating.
Afterward, you headed to the Vatican City. You climbed to the top of the dome together, the breathtaking view of the city below making the effort worthwhile. Standing there, shoulder to shoulder, you felt a connection that went beyond words. Evelyne leaned into you slightly, her arm brushing against yours. The closeness made your heart race.
“You know,” you began, your voice soft and intimate, “I never get tired of this view.”
Evelyne turned to look at you, her eyes searching yours. “It’s incredible. Thank you for showing me the city.”
“I have one more surprise for you,” you said softly, your lips close to her ear. “Can I take you somewhere special?”
“Absolutely,” she replied, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
The car ride was filled with anticipation. Evelyne looked out the window, taking in the sights as the city disappeared. You drove out to a secluded forest area where a hidden river flowed. The forest wasn't too dense, and the sound of the river grew louder as you approached.
“This is my secret spot,” you confessed. “Whenever I need to clear my head, I come here.”
“It’s beautiful,” Evelyne said softly, her eyes reflecting the tranquil water.
You both sat down on the rocky bank, the closeness of your bodies sending a thrill through you. The air was filled with the scent of pine and the gentle rush of the river. “I’m really glad you came to Roma,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Me too,” she replied, her gaze locking onto yours.
As you sat there, the conversation became more personal, more intimate. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and you found yourself leaning in closer. The evening was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and the promise of something more. The air was charged with electricity, every touch sending shivers down your spine.
Finally, you couldn’t resist any longer. You leaned in, your heart pounding in your chest. Evelyne’s eyes closed as you softly pressed your lips to hers. The kiss was gentle, tender, and filled with unspoken promises. When you finally pulled away, Evelyne's eyes fluttered open, a soft smile playing on her lips.
“I’ve wanted to do that all day,” you admitted, your voice barely more than a whisper.
“Me too,” she replied, her cheeks flushed.
You sat there by the river, hands intertwined, the world around you fading away. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful, something special, and you couldn’t wait to see where this journey would take you both.
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faghubby · 1 day
Text
Ever after
I grunted and moaned as Phoebe removed the strapon from my ass.
"Wow, you took every inch" she said playfully smacking my ass. I heard the heavy toy hit the floor.
"You know what I need now" Phoebe giggled she removed her panties and spread her legs at the head of the bed. I moved a little slow after having my ass stretched out. I tasted saw his dried cum on her engorged lips. But I didn't hesitate. Licking and sucking her used pussy.
"You better stop humping the bed, you will chafe with that cage on" Phoebe laughed playing with my hair. As she calmed from the orgasm I had just given her.
"You could taste him couldn't you? Yes I did it. I let a man consumate our marriage for you" Phoebe told me. It was a fantasy I had expressed to her to have her sleep with other men. But until now it had been a game. Something she teased me about.
"Yes I love you" I told her. I so wanted her to unlock me. Instead she got up and went to shower.
"Phoebe" I pleaded grabbing her hand.
"What is it" she smiled knowing exactly what I wanted.
"It's our wedding night" I pleaded.
"Paul, today you promised to honor me. And to do that you will never ask me to unlock your little penis ever again." She told me cupping my cheek and kissed me.
"You didn't even ask who" she smiled. I hung my head. As she went to shower. I got up and cleaned her new strapon she had gotten for tonight. It was heavy, much bigger then the cute pink one we had been using for the last 6 months. This one was realistic looked like a big black cock. 7 maybe 8 inches insertable. With huge balls at the bass. And thick that I could just touch my index finger to my thumb around it. Phoebe got out of the shower as I washed it.
"If you're going to jerk him off you might as well suck it" she laughed. I frowned not amused. But so wanting her to unlock me. I jokingly held it to my lips. Phoebe stopped inner tracks.
"Go ahead then, I will teach you how" she giggled. I put the toy down and she frowned and went into the bedroom.
"Shower!" Phoebe stopped me. Maybe try a cold one" I went back and showered. When I finished Phoebe was already in bed asleep. I noticed she was naked so I slept naked as well.
"Jesus Christ, you leaked everywhere" Phoebe cursed waking me up. I had a wet dream. I had not had one since I was 14. But with being locked up for over a month and all the teasing and expectations. I guess it was to much.
"Obviously can't have you wetting the bed every night" she got uo showered dressed and went out without me.
"Strip the bed, and clean up. I don't want the maid discovering you wet the bed" she was angry. I got dressed as well and order room service. Phoebe returned within 30 minutes.
"Here" shs handed me a box of pantieliners. You can wear these and it will catch all your messes" she smiled. I stared at the box. How would these work with my boxers and I wasn't going to. But before I even finished my thought. Phoebe handed me a package of panties.
"Go try them on" she told me.
"Phoebe this is too far" I told her.
"You will wear them or never spend another night in my bed" she said sternly. I went to change.
"No here, now" she told me. I dropped my shorts. As she opened the package of six cotton panties. All in bright pastel colors and designs.
"I got you bikini, but if you prefer a different style we can try them too" she handed me a pair of pink panties. She had me slide them on and stop to show me how to put in the liner. Then pulled them up. Only then did I put my shorts back on. We went to explore the resort. But Phoebe had me wait in the hall a moment before she joined me. We spent a lovely day exploring the little village nearby. We had a late lunch back at the hotel. Where Phoebe stopped me from ordering a drink. When the waiter walked away to bring me back a virgin frozen cocktail.
"I would like you to give up alcohol. Unless I hand it too you. I want you to never drink again" Phoebe said.
"Why, I never had a problem" I said.
"I just want you to. I feel it may make you forget your place" she told me her foot pushed into my crotch. I wasn't going to have this fight now. So I just nodded. We returned to the room. I immediately saw the strapon and lube on display. I was horrified had the maid pulled it out. I had buried it in the bottom of my suit case. Phoebe immediately started putting it on mover her shorts.
"Leave only your panties on, and get on the bed" Phoebe ordered. I did as she said. She pulled my panties down only to expose my ass. She applied lube and then pushed her cock into my ass.
"You love my big cock don't you?" Phoebe teased. I just grunted as she made forceful thrust but then pulled it back very slow only to repeat the process.
"We are going to have a different kind of marriage together. I want you to except your place" she told me thrusting deep to make her point. "You asked for this, first it was tease, then chastity. Which led to you wanting ass play. Now you are wearing panties and want to learn to suck cock" she pointed out. I tried to speak but she thrust again. "You even let me have another man. A real man consumate our marriage. All you did was clean up his mess" she scolded me. When Phoebe felt I had enough she just calmly pulled out fixed my panties and had me suck her pussy till she came.
This continued everyday. We would spent the day exploring or on the beach. Where she made me wear a speedo. Some nights out dancing or just at the bar( I always ordered virgin cocktails) but once a day she would fuck me. Followed by me going down on her. Sometimes she made me make her cum twice.
She dragged me shopping one afternoon. I was just following her holding her bags.
"How about these" she held up a pair of pink lace panties" she said with a smile. "Let's see you are a large" she continued as she looked thru the rack.
"Phoebe!" I said in a sharp whispered.
"Don't be such a baby" she told me. Then picked out several different types. She had me go up and pay for them. Everyday ones are fine but you need to spice things up as well" she told me as we left. "And I know you are wearing your last clean pair" I wanted to comment that I knew she had stopped wearing panties all together but held my tounge.
"Try on the thong, I want to see if it fits" Phoebe told me as we got back to the room. I changed as she strapped on her cock. It did fit just big enough to hold the cage. Phoebe pulled the thong to the side and fucked me. With a fury. She pounded me. The toy now easily slipped in and out of my ass. She was exhausted by the time she stopped.
"On the dresser there I had room service pick up some things for you" I opened the bag and found hair removal cream, pink disposable razors, ladies shaving gel, and flowery smelling body lotion.
"I want you to remove all that manly hair, you don't deserve it any more" Phoebe told me. I stared at her was she serious.
"When we go home, I expect you to take on the wifely duties around the house. I think if you feel and look girlie it will help you remember your place" Phoebe told me from the bed. This 5'2. 110lbs woman was telling me I was no longer a man.
"Phoebe I am drawing the line" I told her. She got up her toy still attached she grabbed my head as she stood on the bed and pulled me towards her toy. She shoved it in my face.
"Bitch you want nothing more then me to make you suck this dirty cock. So don't tell me you finally decided to play at being a man" she cursed rubbing the dirty toynacross my face.
I was crying as I pulled away and took the bag of stuff into the bathroom. Phoebe came in only to unlock the cage then left. I read the instructions on the hair removal. Even watched a video. Before I began. About an hour later I was rubbing the lotion over my entire body. I had even removed the hair on my arms. I so wanted to play with myself. But instead went to show Phoebe.
"I am proud of you, you didn't even play with your clitty" she smiled. Phoebe stood and pulled off her shorts. She wore simple white panties. "As a reward you can dry hump my pantied ass" she got on all fours on the bed. I got behind her. My hands ran up her thighs and across her ass. I rubbed my cock against her panties. Caught in the moment I jumped her ass. It only took a few minutes to cum all over her panties, cum pumped out of me soaking her panties.
"That's exactly what I thought." Phoebe laughed as she got uo and stripped off her panties. I laid there I felt such relief. "A real man would of tore my panties off and fucked me with all that frustration. But no you where happy to just spill your mess on my panties" Phoebe started to lock my cage back on.
"You will never be inside anyone ever again" Phoebe said kissing me. The last three days of our trip. She barely touched me. Still allowing me to orally please her twice a day. She wore more reveling outfits and slept naked. She also chose the sexiest panties for me to wear. As soon as returned home. We barely got the bags in the house when Phoebe told me she was going out.
"Where we just got home?" I asked
"Not that it is any of your business but I haven't been fucked in 10 days I am going to get laid" she told me, she went to the bedroom. Stunned I followed her.
"What? Who? Phoebe can we talk about this" I pleaded. As I watched her put on lingerie I had never seen before.
"He will like this, don't you think?" She asked me. Throwing on a simple sundress over it. Slipped on some high heels and kissed me goodbye. "Be back later, you should unpack and do the laundry." Then paused. "Your fancy panties need to be hand washed" she smiled one last time and left. I sent out texts to family we had made it home safe. Telling her side as well. I unpacked, even stored the suitcases away. Long before Phoebe returned home. It was late she had been gone for 10 hours. She looked a mess. Her hair and makeup smeared. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her dress. It was obvious that her panties where soaked cum even ran down her thigh.
"Come lick me clean" Phoebe told me. I followed her. I peeled her panties off and licked her lovers cum.
"That's right you know what to do" she cooed rubbing my head.
"His name is Michael" she told me. She didn't let me stop until I had even licked her thigh clean.
"You won't have to worry about me being satisfied Michael does a wonderful job at that" Phoebe told me as she held me after I had finished.
"You do understand your place, I gave you you what you needed. I know it might not of been what you thought you wanted. But I am sure it's what you needed to happen." Phoebe explained. Tears formed in my eyes.
"What do you want ?" Phoebe asked gently. I just nodded towards the drawer we kept toys in.
"Okay go get it" Phoebe told me. I got up and pulled out the strapon. Phoebe stood and had me strap it on her. I was on my knees adjusting the straps. The toy rubbed against my face. Phoebe took hold of it. And held it to my lips. I parted them and let the toy slip into my mouth.
"I sucked Michael's big cock today to" she giggled. I started to bob on her cock. "You are doing well. Relax allow yourself to gag it makes more saliva" she told me. After a few minutes " over time you will get much better at it. Don't forget his balls" she ran her fingers thru my hair.
"Do you want to practice more or?" She giggled. I stooped and removed it from my mouth. She undressed me. Kissing my chest and running her hands over me she laid me on the bed. On my back. She mounted me. She made love to me. Her cock gently moving in and out of my ass. As we kissed and cuddled each other. Eventually she just held me her cock buried inside me.
"This is the life you want with me, lovers will satisfy me. But I love you. You are my soul mate. I just need a man to satisfy me" Phoebe told me. I just kissed her.
"I love you too" I told her.
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zilabee · 2 days
Text
Tony Bramwell, on the Death of Happiness:
- Perhaps it was the world’s press taking them too seriously and asking silly questions about the deeper meaning of their songs and about where the words came from that changed them from being simple songwriters. Songwriting became a “creative art” and was reinvented as being difficult.
- For John and Paul, songs were suddenly something that were “crafted” and then taken off to Abbey Road like a half-finished jigsaw puzzle for George Martin to work his alchemy on. It all became serious and expensive.
- Things changed. The passion went. […] I came to see on a regular basis how the four of them would be slumped in a corner at Abbey Road, with cups of coffee and bits of paper and cigarettes and joints, not doing a thing. George Martin and the new engineer, Geoff Emerick (who had replaced Norman Smith), would be sitting in the control room, or the canteen, bored out of their minds.
- I will always remember the twelve empty boxes [Magic Alex] made for George. They contained nothing and didn’t actually do anything, but George told John that they contained some kind of light ray that could recognize bad vibes. “Really? I’ll have some of those,” said John. “Yeah, me too. In fact, I’ll have two dozen. Put ’em on my bill,” said Ringo who was the most cynical of all the Beatles. Alex produced dozens and in all seriousness, they were lined up in key points around the Beatles’ homes, where, as far as I could tell, they continued to do nothing at all.
- The Beatles were under a lot of pressure at that time to prove themselves in the aftermath of Brian’s death. Consequently, the people who worked for them, or for Apple, were under a lot of pressure not to take the piss out of even the smallest of the Beatles’ bright ideas, including their involvement with the Maharishi, Alexis Mardas, or the Fool. They’re looking at you saying: “Go on. Say it. Say what you’re thinking! I can take it.” And you’re going, “No fucking way. One: you can’t take it. Secondly: I like it here!” To disagree would prove you were not tuned in and turned on.
- Denis left for the ashram, where he discovered that the Beatles were too high up in the clouds, literally, to care about films. George so desperately wanted to believe in this new religion that he called Denis into his hut and made him watch while he sat down cross-legged and levitated. When I asked Denis if he actually saw any space between George’s bottom and the concrete floor, he said evasively, “I’m not sure. George was wearing a robe, and it was very dark in his hut.” Denis was always very diplomatic.
- It seemed to me—and from what they said—that they were very earnest about meditation and Indian music, but found the Maharishi a faintly repulsive figure. They argued about it, but in the end they decided to give him the benefit of the doubt just in case he was some kind of magician
- [on hearing Jumping Jack Flash for the first time on the radio, Paul sends Tony to immediately request the station play it again.] There was a very funny look on Paul’s face as I went off to find the phone. As if, not only was the whole world on his shoulders, but now the Stones were about to hit their stride.
- As the sixties gave way to the seventies, the fun left. It was like a carousel on a merry-go-round slowly grinding to a halt, with the music dying and the lights going dim.
- Klein couldn’t have known that John was sensitive about being slightly dyslexic, but he had guessed correctly that John resented being seen as the junior partner.
- Not only was it hard work drumming up sufficient Krishnas to placate George when he wanted them around, but we were all bored to death at having to go along with the bunch of dropouts who marched up and down, chanting, clanging bells and begging for money.
- Previously, the Beatles had tried to get along; now there were factions. It was like walking on a knife-edge of conspiracies and backbiting. I watched the madness and the slow disintegration of Apple as barriers went up and years of lawsuits and wrangling began. […] People who worked for the Beatles and Apple were supposed to be totally faithful, but it was impossible to be loyal to everybody.
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Note
For the WIP ask game!
There's so many fun options! I'd like to know about Raise Your Hopes Not the Dead
"Raise Your Hopes, Not the Dead" Features a necromancer Billy (not really) Also wasn't sure if I should call it "Raise the Dead, Not Your Hopes" instead because no hopes are being raised, just a failed attempt at raising the dead. The current title is more like a warning.
Anyways, here's the plot:
Starts a little after the death of Billy's parents and Billy living with his uncle. Billy is still in the denial stage of grief. Billy hates living with his uncle, so he runs away. He's homeless for nearly a month until he meets the wizard.
After getting the powers of SHAZAM and becoming Champion of Magic, Billy realizes that he has the most powerful magic in existence at his fingertips. (He doesn't have another form, just stays as Billy.) He finds a library in the Rock of Eternity after wandering around because the wizard straight up died in front of him and left him there with no knowledge of how to get back. The library is full of spellbooks that he goes through quickly thanks to speed of Mercury and wisdom of Soloman. Eventually, there's a book that catches his eye, one that is black with purple accents with a skull in the middle of the front cover and decorated with symbols he doesn't recognize. Inside are spells on how to commune with the dead, and more importantly, spells on how to bring back the dead.
The first thought he has after discovering this? He's going to bring his parents back from the dead! He starts with his dad first. However, it doesn't really go as he planned.
He didn't even know if the spell would work. Curiosity got the better of him and now he's here, in front of his parents' graves.
Billy is able to dig up his father's body, whose body has still not decomposed because I looked it up and they decompose fast but the good thing about the fictional city of Fawcett is that time works differently there. He doesn't have the other ingredients for the spell to work. The spell he's looking at is how to put a soul inside a dead body. He went looking for his parents' souls but for some reason he can't seem to find them. Turns out there are millions of different afterlives for different religions, alien species, etc. all across the universe. Billy stops looking after the hundredth one because he was starting to get frustrated. Others wouldn't even let him enter because he's still alive.
The other spell suggests putting someone else's beating heart into the body. Billy doesn't want to kill anybody, he's trying to unkill somebody. So what he does instead is give up a piece of his soul and heart for his dad. He got chosen for his pure heart so there is no way his dad would go through corruption, turn evil, or other things he's heard of people coming back wrong.
And it works! A bright light is shone after the spell is casted and Billy can see the figure of his dad moving. Except, he's wearing something different than what he was buried in. His dad is wearing a red suit with golden boots, golden sash around his waist, a lightning bolt on his chest that looks like the one from the wizard, and goddamn white cape with gold accents. He looks like a superhero!
After one conversation, Billy realizes that he did come back wrong. He doesn't remember who he was or who Billy is. And Billy tries so hard to get him to remember. It hurts to reintroduce himself to his own father. He tries to tell him that his name is C.C. Batson, he was an archaeologist, he had a wife and son, he was murdered. He tries to recreate scenes in his life to jog his memory, but the man in front of him does not remember anything. It actually started to drive him crazy.
It's like Bily created a whole new person that's wearing his father's body.
Thus, Billy had created Captain Marvel, a name he gave the superhero. Marvel has a good spirit, and he inherited some his powers when he gave him part of his soul, he can be a superhero if he wants to. In fact, that's the only thing Captain Marvel wants to do, he's always busy doing some good deed. Billy should be proud of him, but he just hates looking at Marvel. This is nothing like his dad.
Billy leaves Marvel to his own devices as he leaves to try to find a way to "fix" him. That's when Captain Marvel joins the Justice League. He's having fun and making friends. And he's with them for about a year because Billy has been gone for about a year.
Billy comes back and he's more frustrated than ever. He managed to find nothing. He doesn't feel like going back to talk to someone who doesn't remember him in the way he wants them to, but Marvel is still his responsibility. His other half that left him with a literal hole in his heart and soul.
He comes back to see that Marvel has joined the league and he tries to be okay with it. He's trying to make it work and pretend he's fine with everything. With Marvel being Marvel and picking up slack on the duties he ignored. He feels he finally reached a breaking point. He gave up on looking for a someone that wasn't there. Maybe he can have a relationship with this new version of his dad. But there's always something that irks him every time he sees him.
When Billy finally has a moment of clarity, he realizes just what a crazy and cruel thing it was that he did. Captain Marvel shouldn't be alive in the first place and the hole inside of him just keeps on getting bigger and bigger. He ends up coming to the conclusion that it's time for Marvel to go.
It was time to put an end to this ruse, but the Justice League doesn't seem too keen on letting Marvel go. Who was this kid anyways?
I made two endings
Ending #1:
Billy knows deep down he'll always miss his family, but his heart showed him what he really wanted, a hero to come save him. The reason he wanted them back was because he knew he wasn't ready for responsibility the wizard had bestowed upon him. He tried really hard to avoid it, trying to go back to a time where his life was easier. He even went as far as creating a new person to hand it off to. It was never going to work in the long run, it was Billy's role to fill in the first place.
In the end, Billy finally puts his father's body to rest and accepts his position.
Ending #2:
Billy can't bring himself to put an end to Captain Marvel. He became his own person while he was gone. He decides to let him stay but he still wants to let his dad rest in peace. They go on a new journey to get Marvel his own body. They even start to bond, and Marvel agrees to help with the duties the wizard left him. Billy is finally able to go through the stages of grief and accepting their death.
In case you couldn't tell, this was heavily inspired by Betty Grof from Adventure Time and her relationship with Simon/Ice King. Trying so hard trying to make him remember who he was she actually drove herself mad by becoming a wizard to find a solution, while having moments of clarity. But she ended up sacrificing herself for him to go back to normal.
Billy drove himself mad with grief and the feeling that he was under immense pressure. He feels that he didn't have time process anything before he got pushed into such an important role. It was only made worse when he wasn't whole. Marvel's problem was that he wasn't really brought back to life to begin with, it was just Billy's soul inhabiting a corpse.
(I also have a hc that if Billy were to be gender-swapped, his name would be Betty. Billy Batson -> Betty Batson. Magical girl Billy occupies my thoughts sometimes)
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ariaste · 2 days
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Okay, so obviously Julian, the illegally hot, ceaselessly cool, blisteringly intelligent lynchpin of the triad in Running Close to the Wind is one of the most badass characters ever put to page. When will we get to read his memoirs, and will Tev have editing rights, after the aspersions cast against their character in prior popular works?
Tev will be offered the opportunity to beta-read Julian's memoirs (tentatively entitled All The Sex I Didn't Have: How I Joined A Pirate Crew And Ended Up Reckoning With My Faith) and haughtily turn it down because Tev has this weird thing where they reflexively reject what would be a nice and positive experience, and instead of calling it Self Sabotage they're like "my PRIDE my DIGNITY will not allow me to do this" and flounce off to glare out at the horizon
Avra will also be offered the opportunity to beta read and will SINCERELY SHOCK everyone (except Julian, who is consistently delighted to discover new things about him) with how seriously he takes it and how good he is at it. People will be anxiously trying to take his temperature to see if he has a fever. People will attempt to pour quinine and tonic down his throat in case he has the malaria. He will be physically hauled to a doctor and thrown at the doctor's feet while they declare "There is something badly wrong with him, we need you to fix him." He will then be taken to several different exorcists, and then a taxidermist, just in case, because the crew wants to make a down-payment on getting him stuffed when he dies because they think he's a good luck charm and it would not do to just get rid of him. Avra will happily allow all of this to happen because he likes the attention and sincerely believes that any traumatic situation that happens to him (such as with the spooky exorcists) can be made untraumatic by developing a fun little sexual fetish about it.
Julian will have his memoirs printed by the local print shop at the pirate cove, which does mostly the newspaper (the Scuttlebutt) and sometimes community recipe books. Everyone in Scuttle Cove will buy a copy, because they all think Julian is sooooo handsome and they want to encourage him to stick around and continue improving the landscape.
(RUNNING CLOSE TO THE WIND comes out in ten days on June 11th! It's a comedic fantasy novel about queer pirates stealing and trying to find a buyer for the most valuable secret in the world and fighting back against oppressive institutional powers! You can read a review of it here and the first chapter of it here, and you can preorder it here.)
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