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#can go on and people can go on without you
royalarchivist · 3 days
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Phil briefly talks about QSMP, the admin situation, Quackity, the new team, and the harassment both Quackity and the admins have been receiving.
Please listen to the clip and read the transcript in its entirety. Keep in mind that things can easily be taken out of context (even this clip, though I did try to include everything he said).
If you'd like to see the full unedited conversation, Phil started talking about last week's interactions with YD and Bad ~1h 57m into today's VOD, which led into this conversation about QSMP.
[ Complete Transcript ↓ ]
Phil: Yeah, she's great. Another- another reason why QSMP is just like... fuckin' incredible. That was like, not even ever going to happen without QSMP. Like, obviously it's had its problems, it's go– it's had its problems. Those problems are being rectified. All the people that were wrong'uns have been fired [Laughs] And Quackity's put a new team together. So like, I'm so happy that I'm like– that Q is doing everything he can right now to make it like, right.
But I am still just sad that Chayanne and Tallulah are just asleep, that is just making me real sad. So I've been like, logging on whenever I can to just like, hang out and stuff and just, you know, be around. But I am- I am just sad boy now. [Laughs] I've like– throwing all those penguins into the- the Spawn area was like, my limit. And the like, laughing with YD and Bad kind of cheered me up a bit.
But yeah, I'm sure most of you can agree. It's like, once- once you've been making content on a server a certain way, it's- it's been like, 6 - 8 months of like, the same like type of content I've been making on that server. It's been very lore-heavy, it's been very Egg hanging out with the Eggs and just chilling. Like, not even like doing anything crazy. We would just hang out. But yeah, I'm sure everyone's in the same boat. Like, we all just like, miss that, you know?
So... just gotta wait around. Just gotta wait. Wait for things to get better. Trust in Big Q.
But yeah, moments- moments like the other day, Chat, where me, Bad, and YD were just hanging out just like kind of... you know, it just kind of like... What's the word I'm looking for? Like, drills home how important the QSMP is and can be for connecting people. Not just now, but in the future. And like, that- I feel like that is something that's definitely worth protecting, or something that's worth like, seeing happen in the future with other people. Not even thinking about like, if I'm gonna be interacting with anyone like, thinking about like other people interacting with other people in the future. It's fucking- It's so cool.
Like, imagine seeing like, brand new streamers that you might've not have heard of interacting with people that you know right now. Not necessarily me or people that I know, but like– like, the connections that we've all made.
Dude, Me and Kristin went to fuckin' Switzer-France to hang out with these people! [Laughs] Cellbit and Lore traveled from fucking Brazil to Switzer-France to hang out! The- these connections are like, mental. Just never would have happened without the server, and that's definitely something worth protecting. And like, ensuring it is done the correct way in the future.
That means a lot to us Chat, it does– [Briefly responds to Chat] It means a lot to us and like, obviously the admins being well-taken care of is like, at the fore-front.
And Quackity speaks very highly of this new team. He's like- he's chatted to us like, in calls and stuff. He's been keeping us up to date on everything that's been going on behind the scenes, everything that he can tell us anyways. And like, he is very happy with this new team. He pretty much said that they are like, very passionate about the project, and we can like, trust that he trusts them to do a very good job. So...
Yeah, I'm excited but like, we just have to kind of like, wait. Like, there's a lot being changed around, there's a lot of plans. But the good thing to know is that the people that caused harm have been removed. And now the people that are like, in charge are like, very passionate about the project and just want to see everyone happy and succeed and be taken care of. But these things take time. So we just have to hang about, we have to wait.
[Responding to someone asking about what happened with QSMP and the Admin situation] I'm not going to go into too much detail, you can find out exactly what has gone on, and it's not as simple as black and white. It's- there's a lot of gray areas in there, and it's like very complicated, so you can go look it up yourself, but ultimately, all you need to know is that the initial admin team, the like, head people at the top that Quackity put in charge like ages ago when the server first started were making decisions that were like, not good for the health and also the well-being of the actors, and like, admins and like, the staff. So like, some staff were fine, other staff had a shit fucking time, and it was unfair and terrible and went unnoticed for a while, and then it all came out and Quackity's been like, fixing it since.
Most recently, he stepped down from the team because of like, how serious shit was getting. Like, people online have been fucking awful. And it's very dangerous at the minute for like the ex- like, members of the team, and also him. It's like- it's terrible.
So it's very heated, very– it's– again— and it's not as simple as just like "This- this is– this is right, this is wrong." It's like- it's very- there's a lot of muddled areas, and it's not as easy as just saying "This is exactly what happened." I'm summarizing. I'm literally just summarizing. But all you need to know right now, the latest update is that the team that are in charge are very passionate about the projects and are like, much, much better and will take care of the new people and the admins and all the actors and stuff a lot better than the last fucking team because the initial problem was that Quackity kind of like, took a bit more of a step back and he wasn't like, overseeing every single thing that was going on behind the scenes, but now he's had to- he's had to take a step back, he's been forced to take a step back, but he's left it in the hands of a team that he truly trusts this time. Like, he's actually fully-vetted.
So HOPEFULLY– again: there's more things that need to be done behind the scenes, and I'm not an official spokesperson, I'm just a person playing on the fucking server that my friend has made, and I'm very happy to support him, and I trust that he will do and continue to do the right thing.
But yeah. Not as simple as just [Snaps fingers] "This is this." It's like– there's so much fucking like, middle ground and shit that's gone on. And that's all I'm gonna say on it! 'Cuz otherwise it's just gonna go on and on and on, and people are gonna be like, "What do you know?" and be like "I don't know shit!" And the stuff that I do know, I probably can't talk about right now. There's like, certain things that like, can't be said, for legal reasons and stuff.
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pathologicalreid · 2 days
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baby wearing
spencer reid x fem!reader, fluff
w/c: 465
welcome to the spencer reid dilf agenda: blurb edition. re: spencer reid. baby wearing. that is all.
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You felt his presence over your shoulder as he watched you maneuver the baby on the bed. Her eyes were closing as Spencer reached over and cupped her head with his hand, causing her to watch him with wonder while drifting off into a, hopefully, deep slumber.
The newborn was resting on your bed as you pulled the silky fabric that would secure her to you off of the comforter. You knew that your window of opportunity was closing quickly and soon enough she’d start crying. Spencer had told you that, by being held, she’d learn a sense of security, comfort, nurturing, and warmth.
At two weeks old, she spent more time being held than anything else, so you hoped she felt like the most secure, comforted, nurtured, and warm baby in the world.
“Can I try it?” Spencer asked, eyeing the cloth that you were holding as your daughter squawked impatiently, needing to be held again.
You halted your movements, turning your head to look at him curiously. “You want to babywear her?”
He nodded enthusiastically, hazel eyes flickering between you and the baby. “She seems to like it,” he observed.
She couldn’t talk, but being cocooned in a sling with her mom always seemed to calm her down when she was fussy. You assumed that Spencer was correct, your baby enjoyed being close to people.
The two of you were trying to get as much bonding time in between Spencer and the baby as possible before he had to go back to work, skin-to-skin, bottle feeding. You were willing to try anything, but you didn’t want to force it on him. So, if he wanted to babywear her, then you’d show him how to do it.
He was wearing a T-shirt, which was probably for the best. You didn’t know how she’d react to buttons or zippers, but you kept an eye on her while handing Spencer the wad of fabric. Without missing a beat, he started wrapping the cloth around himself, “Am I doing this right?”
Nodding, you helped Spencer wrap the silky fabric around his torso and shoulders. Luckily, he’s watched you do it enough times in the past two weeks that he had a pretty good idea about where to tie and where to tuck. “Now, she just needs to rest on your chest, and you can pull the fabric over.” You helped guide his hands until you were sure she was secure.
Watching him, you smiled softly as he shushed the newborn when she stirred while being moved.
“What are you thinking?” He asked, gently rubbing the baby’s back through the cloth. She had likely already fallen asleep, keeping warm and remaining comforted by her father.
Your grin remained pasted on your face, “It’s a good look on you.”
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surielstea · 3 days
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Schools Out!
Based on this request.
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Pairing: Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary: Azriel and reader are in charge of picking Nyx up from school, but Az doesn’t like the way the teacher looks at his mate.
Warnings: innuendo of having kids
1.5k words
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The final bell rang and children flooded from the brightly painted doors with wide grins on their faces as they lugged on their backpacks.
I stood beside a looming Azriel with a bright smile on my face as I waited for Nyx to exit the classroom. Feyre and Rhys had an emergency shipment at the art studio they needed to tend to and I was quick to jump at the opportunity to pick the young boy up from class.
Azriel— who has slowly become my personal shadow, goes wherever I go, so I wasn't surprised when he grabbed my wrist and led me to the front door without so much as a word.
A head of blue-black hair comes bounding out of the classroom. His sky-blue backpack hangs halfway off his shoulders as he talks to his teacher, looking up at the male as he clung to his hand.
Kids quickly found their parents but Nyx seemed too intrigued with his teacher to notice Azriel or I waiting.
People stared, perhaps it was Azriel's shadows swishing around us protectively or his large black wings, not many knew of the Illyrians and only about their reputations, I didn't blame them for staring, I wouldn't want the Illyrians near my kid's school either— but none of their eyes were on him, but rather on me.
Azriel's scarred hand snaked around my waist protectively and I smiled at the sentiment, my hand coming to his in an act to soothe him.
Nyx's eyes snag on us and his expression brightens. "Auntie! Uncle Az!" He rushes towards us, practically flying into my arms with a flap of his growing wings. "What are you doing here?" The boy asks excitedly. "Your parents are busy so we're here to pick you up," Azriel says, while I adjust him in my arms. "And, we might stop at the ice cream shop on our way home," I add, eyes flicking to Azriel with a mischievous grin, pinching my bottom lip between my teeth as Nyx's pupils practically morph into hearts.
"I'm sorry to interrupt," An unfamiliar voice sounds and my head whips up to see a tall male with a polite smile and finger-paint stains on his grey button-up. "Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx exclaims as if he hadn't just been with the teacher. "Hi Nyx," The male smiles at the boy, then looks back to me. "Nyx talks highly of you," A smirk curves his lips as his eyes linger all over me. Azriel's arm tightens protectively around me. "The both of you." The blonde corrects and I scoff a laugh, waving him off. "He does the same for you." I smile at him, setting Nyx down on his feet, his hand going into mine. "Always going on about Mr. Lockwood, you seem to make his day." I muse and Azriel's hand leaves my waist in order to pick a wanting Nyx up. "Please, call me Ezra." He presses a hand to his chest humbly and my brows raise a fraction.
I can practically feel Azriel tense beside me at the rushed familiarity. I bring my hand up to his bicep reassuringly as I continue my conversation with Nyx's favorite teacher.
"Right, Ezra," I smile politely at him, dragging my hand down Azriel's arm until reaching his hand where I intertwine our fingers. The teacher looks at our hands, at Azriel's scars I realize, watching as he swallows a lump in his throat. I bristle at the act, wondering what's so wrong with my mate's hands.
"Oh—" He catches the glare I'm subconsciously giving him and pulls a clipboard that was tucked beneath his arm.
"I just need you to sign here before you leave since you're not one of Nyx's biological parents." He holds the paper towards me. I skim through the fine details, the form essentially saying that Nyx's parents had consented to Az and me taking their child home.
I spotted the blank section at the bottom that I had to sign. "I'm sorry, I don't have a pen." I pad my pockets but find them empty.
Mr. Lockwood reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out a red pen, but before I can take it, shadows appear before me, holding a blue pen. I looked to Mr. Lockwood who was staring down at the shadows anxiously, like the dark tendrils might eat him alive— and if my hand wasn't in Azriel's the spymaster might've let them.
I choose to take the blue pen, pulling it from the dark tendrils with a grateful smile and they happily whisk away, down towards the ground where they pooled at my heels. Mr. Lockwood puts his pen back in his breast pocket with a slight drag in his movements, as if in defeat. I sign the space with a big looping signature then hand the pen back to my mate. "Thanks, Az," I hum, he simply nods and takes it from my hold. I turned back to the teacher who was staring at the both of us like he was beyond confused as to why we were together.
It was no secret Azriel and I were pure opposites. One could tell just by looking at my pink gowns and white skirts compared to his black leathers— but it went deeper than just our clothes. I was typically the center of attention when it came to social events while Azriel preferred to observe me. I was always talking his ear off while he just nodded and chimed in every now and again. So when we met strangers it was always a shock to them when they found out we were mates.
"All done here?" I tilt my head, knocking the blonde from his stupor. "Uh— yes." He tucks the clipboard back under his arm. "Perfect," I take Nyx's backpack and sling it over my shoulder. "We'll be seeing you." I smile while Azriel pulls me away. "Bye, Mr. Lockwood!" Nyx waves with a bright smile from over Azriel's shoulder.
——
The walk to the Ice Cream parlor was brief, since Nyx's school was located in the Rainbow everything was only a short distance away, still, the entire way there Nyx raved on about his teacher. Much to Azriel's dismay.
"—And Mr. Lockwood gives us a cool sticker every time we get something right!" Nyx exclaims, skipping slightly as he tugs on my hand. "Would you rather have a sticker or ice cream?" Azriel says and I toss the jealous male a knowing glare. "Oh ice cream for sure," Nyx licks his lips excitedly. "That's what I thought." Azriel mumbles and I playfully smack his shoulder with my freehand.
"Can I please get a chocolate cone, Auntie?" Nyx asks, ignoring his snarky uncle. A smile pulls at my lips. "I don't see why not?" I hum and a grin showing all his teeth blessed his expression. "Maybe I'll get one too." I wink at the boy as we reach the shop, Azriel opening the door for the both of us. The worker behind the counter smiles at us in a greeting and I return it.
"What flavor are you gonna get?" I ask the kindergartner. "I can't see," He says, standing on his tiptoes and attempting to peer over the edge of the glass. Without a word, Azriel swoops him up and props the boy on his hip.
"Ooh, that one," Nyx exclaims, pointing to a brightly colored tub. "I remember I had that kind with Uncle Cass before and it was so good," Nyx licked his lips as if he could still taste it. I shake my head with a growing grin and approach the counter, the silver-haired fae smiling softly at the three of us.
I order for all of us, making sure to get a chocolate cone for Nyx, per his request. The woman repeats my order back and I nod. "Your total is nine gold marks," She hums, but before I can shuffle through my coin purse Azriel puts down the money due and I look up at him. I slip my hand into his in gratitude as the cashier scoops the ice cream into the cones.
When she hands Nyx the chocolate cone he nearly runs laps around the shop, but in fear of his cold treat melting he instead licks up the side, the scoop seeming as big as his head. "You three are such a lovely family," The female smiles as she hands me my cone. "Oh, he's not—" I begin. "Thank you." Azriel interrupts before tugging my hand towards the door. "Have a nice day!" I wave to the worker. "You too!" She mirrors my expression. "Bye!" Nyx waves carefully, cautious of his ice cream toppling over. She waves back before the door to the parlor opens and we exit, the bell chiming behind us as Azriel guides me down the sidewalk, Nyx still in his arms.
I wrapped my arms around his free one, suddenly overwhelmed by some type of baby-fever. Watching the feared shadow singer be so innocent with Nyx made me want a child of our own. How I'd kill for a kid that looks just like him, hoping our child has his eyes— or better yet, his smile. I push the thoughts away as a pink tinge comes to my cheeks, I lean against his bicep as we walk side by side, enjoying our ice cream on the hot day.
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its-rach-writes · 3 days
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Cotton Candy Kisses - Spencer Reid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: After a revelation at dinner, you realise that Spencer isn't as innocent as he seems.
Warnings: fluff, fluff and more fluff!
A/N: This is part two to my artist!reader mini series, you can read part one here but its not neccessary to understand this one. Thank you for your love on the first part, I love you all! xxx
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You were saying goodbye to everyone who had stopped by your art class as you cleared away the paint and wiped off the splatters. As they filed out of the café, a couple of people stopped to ask you if you needed a hand in clearing things away but you waved away all their sweet offers. As you wiped the counter, the door opened and you spoke without looking up.
“I’m sorry, we’re closing up.”
“I know; thought you might need some help.”
You could hear the smile in his voice without looking up, when you did look up, your heart jumped in your chest as you saw the handsome Doctor grin at you, “Spence! Hey!” you gave him a hug, giggling as he lifted you from the floor.
It was hard to believe that this was the same man from a couple of months ago who hated physical contact. He still had his limits of course, “when did you get back?”
“Last night,” he smiled as he set you on your feet.
“How was the case?” you asked and his smile dropped just a fraction but it was enough for you to notice, “it doesn’t matter,” you said quickly.
“Need a hand?”
“I’m nearly done but I’d like the company,” you smiled.
Spencer helped you clean the paint and scrape the paper-mache from the tables. He laughed as he looked at some of the paintings that were left behind. He carefully picked up a landscape painting, “these are way better than my stickmen.”
You laughed as you glanced up at him, “I don’t know, the one you did of Hotch funnily enough, was a striking resemblance.”
It didn’t take long for you to close up shop and Spencer offered to walk you home. It was a beautiful day and Spencer’s shoulder brushed up against yours every so often which did nothing to quell your developing crush on him.
“Oh,” he said as if he’d suddenly remembered something, “the team are going to Rossi’s tonight for dinner, he wanted to know if you would like to come.”
“That’s really nice of him.”
As soon as you started hanging out with both Spence and Emily, the team found ways to include you every time they got together outside of a case.
“I’d love to come.”
“Great,” he grinned.
You smiled, your cheeks flushing as you pulled your new lip balm out of your pocket, and applied it. The sickly sweet smell must have washed over Spencer because he glanced down at you.
“Is that cotton candy?”
“Uh huh, it’s new.”
“Can I get some?”
His request shocked you, you knew he had a thing with germs, he hardly shook hands with people and now he wanted to share a lip balm with you?
“You have a thing against germs and this has glitter in it. Are you sure that you want some?”
“No, that’s not what,” he sighed, “never mind.”
You narrowed your eyes at him but you didn’t say anything in reply, and he didn’t bring it up again.
“I’ll see you tonight then?”
Spencer nodded as he smiled down at you but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and his eyes looked almost sad, “yeah, see you.”
You had gone shopping a few weeks ago and you’d bought a new dress that you hadn’t had a chance to wear yet. The excitement of having dinner at Rossi’s pushed whatever was up with Spencer to the back of your mind. The hot day turned into a warm night so Rossi set dinner up outside. The wine was flowing and chilled – only the white wine, Rossi would execute you himself if you tried to chill red wine, when Derek spoke up.
“So, what’s up with Reid?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder and into the kitchen where Spencer was talking to Hotch.
When no one answered, you looked around the table to find everyone staring at you, “why are you asking me? How should I know?”
Garcia made an impatient noise, “every minute he’s not working or with his mom, he’s with you. And, even when we’re on a case he finds a way to tie you into the conversation.”
“He does?” you flushed as you turned to look at him, when Derek cleared his throat, you turned back to the group, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
After dinner, Spencer was forgotten, that was until Savannah, Derek’s girlfriend pulled out her lip gloss and started applying it.
“Can I get some of that mama?” he smirked, she rolled her eyes but leaned over to kiss him.
JJ groaned, “god, we get enough of that at the office, we don’t need it here too.”
Your mouth fell open as you put two and two together, your heart dropped like a rock and you suddenly got up and walked into the kitchen were Spencer was getting a drink. He glanced over his shoulder as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. He didn’t kiss you back and you second guessed yourself, maybe he’d meant what he said. You pulled away, his thumb brushed against your jaw, your red lipstick smudged against his lips.
“I still want to try the cotton candy flavour,” he grinned as he pulled you into another kiss.
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verstappen-cult · 2 days
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SWEET LIKE VANILLA, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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PAIRING. female reader x max verstappen.
SUMMARY — You send Max some ice cream from your brother’s company.
GWEN’S RADIO MESSAGE. i saw a lot of people talking on tw about charles sending max some of LEC ice cream for him to try and i thought. . . why not write that with reader? so here we are. hope you like this silly little thing. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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“Hey,” You say, scrolling through your phone as your brother flops down next to you. “Could you give me a box of the Vanillove ice cream?”
Charles looks at you for a minute without saying anything, until he shrugs and focuses on the TV. “I thought you hated vanilla.”
“Well, yours is pretty good so,” You shrug, turning to look at him with a pout on your lips and puppy eyes. “Would you do that for your favorite sister?”
“You’re my only sister.” He says, rolling his eyes. “And you’re annoying, but you also know I can’t say no to you.”
“Say no to what?” Arthur pops up from behind the kitchen counter. What is he doing? You don’t know.
“To give me a box of ice cream.”
“You say you couldn’t do that!”
“Of course I can, I just didn’t want to do it for you.” Charles laughs, dodging the water bottle your younger brother throws at him. “Are you two going to the masters this Sunday, right?”
“Yes!” Arthur shouts before disappearing into his room.
“Who is going to the masters again?” Leo wakes up from his nap next to you and climbs on your lap, demanding attention.
“Well, I think Enzo and Charlotte. Lando, Arthur.” He says, checking something on his phone before saying, “And Max.”
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of Max Verstappen.
The thing is, ever since you decided to partner with Joris and help with whatever thing he and Charles needed and, of course, his social media, you’ve been traveling with them since Las Vegas last year. Which means that you’re a constant presence on the paddock these days. And, thanks to that, you’ve become very close with some of the drivers, especially with one more than the others.
You weren’t looking for it, it kind of just happened when you bumped into him at a nightclub in Las Vegas after your own brother ditched you to make out with some random guy in the bathrooms. Max was kind enough to keep you company and then, when your brother stumbled out of the bathroom too drunk to remember his own name, he drove you both back to your hotel. He even made sure you were in your room before saying goodbye and going to his own hotel.
From then on you couldn’t stop bumping into him literally everywhere, so, it was only natural that you’d start making conversation, then following each other on Instagram was just as natural as moving the conversation to text messages (it was easier).
Your friendship has developed so much that you’ve been running together around Monaco lately, after you bumped into him at seven in the morning, surprised to see him running the same path as you.
And if you had a crush on the Red Bull driver before you started to be friendly with each other, well, nobody needs to know that — especially not your brothers or you’ll never hear the end of it. It was hard to act normal around him at first. You were just a girl with a crush, after all. But things have become a lot easier with time to the point of forgetting about the big, fat crush you have on the Dutchman. Well, that is until he does or says something that has you blushing and stuttering and acting like a complete fool in front of him.
Knowing that Max is going to be there this Sunday is equally mortifying, and exciting.
“Oh, okay.” You smile, scratching behind Leo’s ears while your brother has his eyes on you. “I’m coming, by the way.”
Charles hums, “The box is going to be here tomorrow.”
Your belly erupts with butterflies at the thought of what you’re about to do with that box of ice cream.
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It’s Sunday, sunny and everyone is wearing their best clothes while waiting for the match to start.
You’re standing next to Lando, who is talking to Charles about the next race, when you see Max Verstappen coming in.
He’s wearing some blue navy linen pants with a white button down of the same material, a pair of dark sunglasses and his singular smirk.
Max is greeted by your older brother, who is quick to engage in conversation about some random thing you can’t hear from where you are standing.
But then he’s excusing himself and walking over to you.
You don’t know if he’s actually looking at you thanks to the sunglasses covering his eyes, but you feel small and shy nonetheless.
“Hey, mate.” Lando claps his shoulder, making space for Max to stand between you and him.
“Hey,” This time you know he’s looking at you because his entire body is turned in your direction.
“Hey, Maxie.” You say, the corners of your mouth curling up. “Nice clothes.” You cringe the second the words leave your lips. Nice clothes, really?
Max just chuckles before looking over to your brother. “Hey, Charlie. Thanks for the ice cream.”
Oh. My. God.
Shit.
Fuck.
You had forgotten about that.
Well, no. You hadn’t forgotten about it because, in fact, you've been thinking about the box of LEC ice cream that you sent Max all week.
You didn’t think he was going to bring it up, because you were sure he was going to think that Charles was nice enough to send his friend some of his ice cream. Or even that it was some PR move from his part.
However, he brings it up in front of you. And Lando. And the owner of the ice cream who doesn’t know anything about it. All he knows is that you wanted some vanilla ice cream because you said you liked it.
“What are you talking about?” Charles asks, confused. “It’s not being sold in Monaco yet.”
It’s Max’s turn to look confused. “What?” He takes off his sunglasses. And you’re not at all ready to see his deep blue eyes, so you avoid looking up at him. “You sent me a box of… Vanillove is it called? I didn’t know you knew I only liked vanilla.”
You want to die. You want for the earth to swallow you right now.
“Max,” Charles says at the same time you look at him, eyes pleading not to say anything. “What?” He asks you, eyebrows raised in question.
And then you have two more pairs of eyes on you.
You decide, right at that moment, that you’re not going to talk to Charles ever again. Why does everyone talk about that silent connection between siblings where they know what is going on with just a look? Because you, certainly, don’t have it with Charles.
Lando snorts, hands immediately covering his mouth. He looks at you, amusement on his face.
Oh, that is just great. Lando knows.
And your brother still has no clue, “What happens?” He asks again, this time grabbing your arm softly to make you look at him, but your sandals are more interesting.
“The match is about to start.”
Thank God for Lorenzo. You could kiss him just because he came at the right moment to save you from embarrassing yourself even more without even knowing.
Everybody talks and moves at the same time, making their ways over the seats.
“Hey,” Max touches your shoulder, making you turn around. “Are you okay?” Max touches your forehead with the back of his hand and you pray to all the gods above that he doesn’t notice you shivering because of it.
“Oh, yeah, it’s just the sun. It is a little hot.” You smile, dismissing the topic with a wave of your hand.
“I’ll get you some water,” He drops his hand and you immediately miss his warmth. “save me a seat?”
You feel your heart hammering in your ears as you nod, walking away with his question and the little smile that came with it replaying in your head.
You find your seats behind Arthur and his girlfriend, in the rows next to yours separated by the stairs is Charles and Lando, yapping like their lives depend on it, next to them is Lorenzo and Charlotte.
You’re thinking about what to say to Charles because he is, eventually, going to ask you about what is going on and you know he will not rest until you give him an answer. You are a shitty liar, so you need to practice.
Max calls your name, drawing your attention back to the present.
“You have your head in the clouds today.” He hands you a water bottle and you take a long sip, trying to gain some control over yourself.
“I’m sorry.”
“Will you tell me what is going on?” Max looks intently at you, a small smile still on his lips.
You sigh. Well, he needs to know, right? You owe him that.
But then, Max is leaning closer and pushing a strand of hair out of your face, resting his hand in the back of your neck and stroking ever so softly.
“You smell,” He says, closing his eyes for a second and inhaling. “sweet like vanilla.”
His words send a thrill down your spine, words stuck in your throat. Max expression softens, mixed with something you can’t describe.
He rubs his thumb gently over the sensitive skin of your neck.
“You sent the ice cream, didn’t you?”
You take a sharp intake of breath.
The closeness and the warmth emanating from his body along with his touch are making your brain go fuzzy at the edges.
“Y/N?” He smiles at you when you make eye contact, his blue eyes deep as the ocean. “It was you?”
You nod, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Yes.” You breathe, embarrassed and shy and feeling like an idiot.
“I knew it.” He says, chucking. You tilt your head to the side in a silent question. “I told you about my favorite ice cream flavor just a few weeks ago. And suddenly I have a box full of vanilla ice cream from LEC?” Max pulls his hand away, but is still close to you. “I mean, Charles and I are friends but we’re not that close.”
“Oh, God.” You hide your face behind your hands. “I was going to tell you. Eventually.”
“Why didn’t you?”
You look at him from between your fingers. “I don’t know.”
Max sighs, lopsided grin plastered on his face. “Now you have to come to my apartment and help me with them. It’s a lot for one person.” He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but you see the blush quickly spreading over his cheeks.
“I would love to.”
Max flops his head on your shoulder and gazes up at you with those big blue eyes of his. “It is a date.”
Max definitely doesn’t need to know that you hate vanilla ice cream.
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f1goat · 2 days
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more than friends ; lando norris + part eleven
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In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten
When you wake up after another sleepless night, you let out a big sigh. Since you’re back in Monaco things feel different. You can’t sleep properly anymore, the cold bed without Lando and his warmth in it aren’t enough for you. Things have changed since you’re back here. Lando is busy with his trainings, Quadrant, friends he didn’t see for a while and everything else he’s normally busy with. Meaning that there’s not a lot of time left for you. Lando told you in advance, but you told him it would be fine. Now you realize that it’s not fine. 
You know that if you call Lando, he’ll let you join him with everything you want. There is even a chance that he’ll send you a plane ticket for only today and tomorrow. It wouldn’t be something new. He’s in England for now, spending time at the McLaren Technology Centre. Lando told you about what he was going to do, something in the line of multiple sponsor obligations and a bit of sim work. Him not being in Monaco causes you to only miss him more. 
There’s nothing more you want to do then to call Lando up and talk to him, but you don’t wait to claim him too much. What if he thinks you’re too clingy? With another soft sigh you start to scroll on your phone. Not that it helps, when you open your phone you’re confronted with a thousand notifications. Since the last race weekend the notifications haven’t stopped. Everyone thinks Lando and you are actually dating this time. It has caused your socials to overflow with reactions, some people hate you while others claim that you’re their favorite WAG already. On the flight back you talked about it with Lando. There was an option of denying it and hoping they would leave you alone again, but the two of you decided to just let it be for now. 
You want to text Lando. Or would that be to clingy? Fuck, you really miss him. When a notification shows up on your phone screen, you’re quick to look at it. 
Lando: call me?
Without giving it a second thought you call Lando on FaceTime.
“Hey babygirl,” Lando greets you with a soft smile. 
“Hey Lan,” you greet him back. 
Lando asks you about the last couple days, you feel boring when you confess to him that you didn’t do a lot. You don’t have contact with your friends anymore since that brunch and now that Lando is also gone, your days have been boring. You are quick to ask Lando about his last days as well. He tells you everything in full enthusiasm. 
“But I can’t wait to get back to,” Lando doubts, he wants to say to you but that’s probably weird, right? “To Monaco,” he eventually ends his sentence. 
“When are you coming back?” You are quick to ask. You want nothing more then Lando back in Monaco and hopefully back with you. “Tomorrow baby,” Lando answers you, “Maybe we can grab dinner together when I’m back?”
“That sounds nice,” you tell him, that’s exactly what you hoped for. 
“What are you going to do today?” Lando continues to asks you. 
“I don’t know yet,” you confess, “maybe sleep a bit more, I’m still pretty tired.”
“Did I awake you?” Lando questions. You’re quick to tell him no, mentioning that you don’t sleep well at the moment. When Lando asks you for the reason, you don’t know what to say at first. You stay silent for a bit. “I kinda have the same problem you know,” Lando eventually confesses, “Since I’m back in my own apartment without you I haven’t gotten a good night sleep.” 
“Me too,” you share, “It feels weird to sleep alone.”
“Tomorrow we can sleep together?” Lando suggests. You’re quick to say yes. “And maybe some other activities,” Lando says suggestively. 
“Oh?” You reply.
“I miss you babygirl,” Lando softly murmurs, “All of you.”
“All of me?” You ask surprised.
“Yes,” he confesses, “I miss your body next to mine in the bed, since we slept in the same bed together I’ve been addicted to it. And don’t forget how bad it became now that I know how your body feels. I miss the soft sounds you make for me when I feel you up, or the way you always look at me with those innocent eyes when I know for a fact you’re not that innocent. I miss the way you pussy clenches around my cock.”
“Fuck Lan,” you mutter softly, “I miss you too. Haven’t cum since the last time you made me.”
“What did you just say babygirl?” Lando asks you. He looks at you through the screen, it’s not hard to miss how red your cheeks are getting. “Didn’t you orgasm since our last time?” He continues to ask. You show him a small nod. “Why not?” Lando asks further.
At first you shrug, not wanting to tell Lando that you have never pleasured yourself, but Lando sees right through you. “Have you ever touched yourself?” He asks you. 
“No,” you confess softly. 
“Don’t know how to do it?” He asks.
“No.”
“Want my help babygirl?” 
“Please Lan,” you almost beg. Since he told you what he misses about you, your pussy started clenching. You feel all tensed up and want nothing more then Lando to help you with it. Lando shows you a grin. He doesn’t say anything yet, causing you to let out another few pleas. “I need your help,” you softly confess, “I can’t do it myself.”
“Place your phone on your night stand baby,” Lando instructs you. You do what he says. “Lay down on the bed, I want to see your body.” You lay down on the bed, still dressed in your pajamas. Now you look at yourself in the camera, you notice that you’re pajamas are a skimpy string and a shirt from Lando. 
“Spread your legs for me,” Lando instructs you. You do what he says again. “Keep following my instructions,” Lando says, you show him a nod. “I want you to call me sir,” Lando tells you. “Okay sir,” you try it out, the words leave your tongue without thinking about it. It feels good. You notice the way Lando lets out a soft groan while hearing you call him this. 
“Touch your boobs for me babygirl,” Lando continues to instruct you. You lay your hands on your boobs, slowly grabbing them through your shirt. “Knead one of them,” Lando says, “and softly pull on the nipple from the other one.” You act out his instructions, a soft moan leaves your lips when you softly pull on your nipple. “Continue and switch sometimes,” Lando states. You keep doing what he says. Kneading your boobs firmly and softly pulling on your nipples. You feel your stomach tighten from the feeling. It feels weird to do this to yourself, you’re glad Lando is here to instruct you. 
“Feels good, doesn’t it babygirl?” Lando asks you. 
“Yes,” you whimper.
Lando tuts at you. “Wrong babygirl,” he says, “Stop touching your boobs.” You wonder what he means, then you get it.
“Sorry sir,” you whimper, “Sorry. Can I please continue?”
“No.”
You remove your hands from your tits. A soft whine leaves your lips. Lando chuckles. “Slowly move your hands lower on your body,” he continues to instruct you, “but skip your cunt.” You do as he says. “Tease the inside of your thighs for me,” Lando instructs you, “Stroke up and down on them. Get closer to your cunt, slowly, but don’t touch it yet. Just tease yourself and imagine that your hands are mine.” You keep doing what Lando instructs you to do. “You must be so painfully wet right now,” Lando mutters.
“Move one of your hands back to your tits,” Lando goes on, “Tease them as well. Knead those tits, pinch or pull on your nipples. Keep teasing yourself.”
“Yes sir,” you softly moan while touching your breast again. 
“Gonna get you so wet before you even touch your cunt,” Lando tells you. “It’s a shame I’m not there with you, I would put my mouth on one of them. Slowly sucking your nipple inside my mouth, licking and sucking those beautiful tits.” 
“Fuck sir,” you moan.
“You like this, don’t you? You love every second of attention I give you. Don’t you wish I was there with you babygirl?”
“Fuck sir, yes, I miss you. Want you here with me.”
“Take off your clothes,” Lando instructs you further. You’re quick to do so. 
“Use one hand to keep teasing your breast,” Lando continues, “and with the other one you’re going to get real slow towards your cunt. But don’t you dare to touch it yet.” You let out a soft moan now you feel your breast and nipple without any clothing between it. Lando lets out a soft groan as well. He softly starts to grab his boner as well. Lando never did something like this before, but it feels so natural with you. He’s surprised how well it’s going, the words are flowing out of his mouth without thinking about it.
“Lay down your finger on your clit for me,” Lando tells you, “but only for two seconds. Then you move your hand back to your thighs.”
You let out a whine when your two seconds are up. “Sir please,” you whine. “Not yet baby,” Lando says, “tease your thighs a bit more.” You still do what he says. When you look at your phone screen you notice that Lando has turned over the camera. you’re not seeing him anymore, the camera is focused on his boner now. 
“Fuck sir,” you mutter, “you look so hard.”
“That’s what you do to me babygirl,” Lando replies.
“Can I see how you touch yourself, sir?”
Lando doesn’t reply verbally. He moves his hand to his boner and starts to caress it, letting out a groan while doing so. “How badly do you want to touch your beautiful cunt baby?” Lando asks you, “Tell me about it.”
“Fuck sir, want to touch it so bad,” you murmur.
“Ask me.”
“Can I please touch my pussy sir?” You ask him.
“Okay babygirl,” Lando tells you. “Slowly put your finger back on your clit again. Use your other hand to tease your entrance.” You move your hands again. Almost letting out a loud moan when you finally feel something on your clit again. “Make slow movements, really slow,” Lando instructs. “Give it a bit more pressure,” Lando continues. 
“Fuck,” you whine, “Thank you sir.” 
Lando almost feels his cock bursting out of his pants when you thank him. He removes his pants and boxers. You see his boner springing to his freedom. Lando is quick to put his hand around it and starts to stroke it. 
“Oh babygirl,” Lando mutters, “the things you do with me. Continue to add pressure to your clit baby and slowly move one of your fingers inside you.” 
You spread your legs a bit more then before, causing Lando to let out a soft moan while seeing your cunt better then before. He strokes his own dick. Slowly you let one of your fingers enter your pussy. “Imagine that was my cock,” Lando teases you, “How much better would that fill you up baby?” 
“A lot better sir,” you answer, “There’s nothing better then your cock.”
Lando keeps getting amazed by you. “Such a good girl for me,” he tells you, “my good little..” He doubts a bit if he’s going to say it, but eventually takes the risk. “My good little slut,” he calls you. 
“Only for you sir,” you reply softly, “only for you.”
“Fuck babygirl,” Lando groans, “What did I do to deserve you?” 
In the mean time Lando increases his own pace. He tells you to do the same. You let out a couple moans while fingering yourself. “I’m getting close,” you softly confess, “can I cum sir?” 
“Not yet baby,” Lando tells you stern, “wait a bit longer.”
You’re turning into a moaning mess. You can’t even reply to Lando anymore. It’s getting too much for you. After not having felt anything like this for a week or so, the pleasure is getting to your head. Your stomach is as tight as it can be, your pussy is already clenching around your finger and the only sound coming out of your mouth are moans. 
“Add another finger babygirl,” Lando instructs you. You’re quick to act out his instruction. “Increase the pace but don’t let yourself cum yet. Imagine it’s my cock that’s inside you right now.”
“Fuck sir,” you mutter, “I’m so painfully close.”
“Beg for it.”
“Sir please,” you start to beg. You can’t even form normal sentences, words are coming out of your mouth but you don’t even realize which ones. “So close.” “Please sir.” “Fuck sir, it feels so good.” “Need you with me sir.” “Please.”
“You deserve it babygirl. Let it go,” Lando softly tells you, “Cum for me.”
You feel your body spasm. “Fuck,” you moan while you come undone. It amazes you that you just did this for yourself. While coming down from your orgasm, you look at the phone screen on your night stand. Lando is pumping his boner with a fast pace. While looking at it you feel yourself getting horny all over again. Then he comes undone as well with a loud moan. 
“Fuck babygirl,” Lando grunts, “That was amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” you softly reply, “It’s insane what you’re doing to me while not even being here.”
“You better wait for when I’m back,” Lando states, “because I can’t wait to feel you around my dick again.”
“Tomorrow right?” You ask teasingly. 
“Tomorrow you’re mine.”
+++
The day is passing by slowly. Lando texted you this morning that he will pick you up for dinner tonight. Since then you haven’t heard anything from him. You miss him. You can’t wait for him to show up here and take you with him. Only the idea of sleeping next to Lando again tonight, makes you feel all happy and bubbly. 
You’re looking at yourself in the mirror. The dress you’re wearing is a new one. After your FaceTime call with Lando from yesterday, you went out shopping. It felt weird at first to shop alone, but you aren’t in touch with your friends anymore after the last time where they didn’t stop insulting you. It’s for the better, but shopping alone is something else to get used to. Eventually you did find a beautiful dress for tonight. Now you’re wearing it you feel a bit of doubt kicking in. You usually don’t wear stuff like this. The dress is on the shorter side, almost revealing your ass. Maybe it’s too much for only dinner? You doubt about changing, but before you can decide you already hear the door bell. Can that be Lando? 
When you open the door, you’re greeted by Lando. He is quick to pull you into a hug before getting inside your apartment. “Hey babygirl,” he greets you with a soft voice. He puts a small kiss on your cheek. When he pulls back from the hug and walks inside with you, Lando is quick to take a good look at you. 
Lando can’t take his eyes off you. Fuck, since when do you own dresses like this? Do you really expect him to have dinner with you while you’re dressed like this? He can’t focus on dinner or anything else when you look this beautiful. Fuck. The dress barely covers your ass and Lando can’t stop looking at it, certainly when you walk towards the kitchen to get him something to drink. 
“Fucking hell babygirl,” Lando sighs eventually, “since when do you own dresses like this?” 
“It’s too much isn’t it?” You ask a bit unsure. Lando hasn’t stopped looking at you since he’s inside. 
“No,” Lando quickly states, “it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Lando doubts for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “But I do think I can’t focus on anything else then you in this dress and fucking you.”
“What’s stopping you?” 
In no time Lando has himself pressed up against your body. You don’t know how Lando got you here like this, but you’re pressed up against the wall. His mouth is attacking yours. You feel his hands all over your body. As fast as he can manage Lando pulls up your dress. When he feels your string and the way it’s already dampened by your cunt, he grins. 
“So wet already baby,” Lando mutters. You grab his boner through his pant. “And so eager,” Lando continues. You play with Lando his belt, trying to get if off but you can’t reach it properly. A soft annoyed grunt leaves your lips. Lando grins and removes his belt himself, then he pulls down his pants and underwear. You see the way his boner slaps soft against his stomach. Fuck you almost forgot how big it was. 
“When we’re back from dinner I’m going to take my time with you,” Lando states, “but now I really  need to feel you on my cock.”
“Please do,” you softly reply. Lando takes his earlier words into action. He lets his dick slide into your cunt. It causes you to let out a hard moan. Lando fucks you harder then ever before, it never felt as amazing as this. When he squeezes your boob you almost yell out his name. “Fuck Lando.”
Lando grunts. He increases his pace again. When he starts to feel close to his orgasm, he almost feels ashamed for feeling his orgasm reaching this soon. Then he notices the way you look. It looks like you’re close as well. 
“Never came this fast in my life,” Lando groans when he feels his cum leave his body. You feel your orgasm hitting you as well. “I can say the same,” you joke, “but it’s not like I have a lot of experience.”
“Dinner?” Lando asks you five minutes later. “If you can behave,” you laugh. Lando grabs your hand, intertwines his fingers with yours and takes you with him towards his car. You barely can remember to grab your stuff before getting into his car. 
“It’s insane how much I missed you,” Lando confesses.
“Same,” you softly reply. 
“And I have to leave again in only two days for the next race,” Lando sighs. 
“I know,” you sigh back. 
“Join me?”
“You want me to join you again?” You ask Lando confused.
“Babygirl, I want you to join me every time I’m leaving home.”
a/n; i feel like this story is coming to an end but i have no idea how to finish it, help is welcome :)))
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vaspider · 3 days
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Hi there! Hope you’re having a good day mama spider. Just dropping by to ask for some info on an addition to a post about Judaism you made. I chose to ask you and not op because i’ve sent you an ask before and know that you answer them. So real quick, why did you type out G-d rather than God or god? Does it have something to do with Judaism? Is it just for the faithful to follow and not goyim? As an atheist who was formerly Catholic i just wanna learn more and be respectful of others’ religions whenever i can. I know next to nothing about Judaism, even though they’re a good portion of my county’s population. Hope this ask isn’t insensitive in any way, and thanks for taking the time to read this <3
This isn't insensitive to ask. It's actually a great question, and I'm glad that you asked if you're curious.
Since those articles cover your asks pretty well, I'm gonna give you some free bits of info to help your quest for respectfulness, which is pretty rad, btw: we don't really use phrases like "the faithful" bc Judaism doesn't require faith in G-d. There is no conflict between Judaism and atheism & there are a lot of Jewish atheists and agnostics. Judaism is an ethnoreligion and a people in a way that a lot of religions aren't, and in fact, the symbolism for one of my favorite holidays emphasizes that we are not complete without all kinds of Jews:
The functions of the four species are defined by both their smell and taste, or lack thereof, along with some interesting imagery from the Midrash (Vayikra Rabbah 30:12): The etrog has both taste and smell, representing people who both perform good deeds and have Torah (knowledge). The lulav has taste but no smell, representing those who do not use their knowledge to perform good deeds. The hadass (myrtle) has smell but no taste, representing those who perform good deeds but lack the knowledge to excel at them. The aravah (willow) has no taste and no smell, representing those who lack both.
"Good deeds" here doesn't just mean "being nice to your neighbors" but refers directly to performing mitzvot/mitzvahs, the 613 commandments that observant Jews observe to varying levels of specificity and intensity.
It's not offensive to use a phrase like "the faithful," just isn't ... correct, you know? Instead, you'd just say Jews or Jewish people. If you're trying to refer specifically to Jews who are religious or believe in G-d... there isn't exactly a phrase for that, I guess you'd say "observant," because there are a lot of Jews who are observant but also atheists, since observant Jews may be observing mitzvaot for any number of reasons that have nothing to do with belief in the existence of G-d.
Anyway, there you go, with some bonus info. As always, I don't speak for everybody, 2 Jews 3 Opinions, etc.
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I just read ur !Stripper!Reader x !Mafia!König fic and OMG!!! Can u pls write more about them but the reader is the popular one in the club?!
Night with you can cost a working man half of his income. A single lap dance can bring you enough money to finally quit this job - and you tried to before, on, multiple different occasions. You're smarter than this now, recognizing that there is absolutely no fucking way you're ever going to be free from this job. Maybe only if you're dead and buried in some undisclosed location. At least your cage is laced with gold and pillows - at least you know how to please dangerous men just enough so they would buy your dance for a few private occasions but not enough to make you their lover. You played the game well enough - before he showed up. Konig is too important to ignore, but you're too popular to rank him first class dance without making him wait. You hope he'd understand the memo - lady doesn't want to see him, lady is too busy getting her bra stuffed with crispy new euros. The gentleman doesn't care and can wait for the whole night to get the lady, however - even though it's nearly the end of her shift, and she already feels like dropping her stilettos and hoping that her last client would be too drunk to care that she is not dancing quite right. But Konig knows what he wants. The best girl in this whole club, maybe the best in town - and the only one that doesn't belong to him. The thought drives him crazy, almost enough to break the peace negotiations and take the territory from neutral grounds - not because he wants to branch out in the business of pleasure, but solely because he wants to have you. Needs to have you, with him, as close as possible. At all times, no matter what you might think or want. God, this infuriates him. But you're worth the wait. Maybe, if you didn't make him wait till the latest hour, he could have popped a boner sooner, masturbate for a bit, and forget about the way you make his nerves explode. Maybe if you didn't make him wait until he is fully ready to put his hands on your precious body, he wouldn't grow so obsessed with the way your body moves for other people. But you made him wait and in his wait, he grew impatient. He knows how to wait for good things, but you're too fucking good. Worth waiting for. You made the most dangerous man in the city earn for you like a schoolboy with his first crush - and Konig doesn't forget things like this so easily.
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hazelfoureyes · 2 days
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⟢Alastor x Cupid FemReader Tasked with making a demon believe in true love or you can’t return to heaven, things immediately go off the rails when you hurt yourself and Alastor catches one of your most troubling arrows; Mania
I managed to finish this despite, ya know, the aforementioned: (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥`)
˚₊ · »-♡�� Week 1 and Week 2 (keep reading)
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 3 and Week 4 smut💦
˚₊ · »-♡→Week 5, Week 6, Week 7, and Prologue smut💦
「warnings/promises: Alastor x CupidFemReader, broken bones, feet washing, normal sized Luci, you know the outfit in my PFP? You’re wearing that but soft purple and the bottom half is ambiguous because idk baby whatever you feel best in it’s your story, Husk has a bad time, Alastor has a bad time, You have a bad time, Charlie has a great time 👌🏼, not choking」
Minors this one is chill but the next two imma need you to Dni 💋 ♥️ 🧹lovingly
You had made a mistake, yes, but Hell? Really?
Sure, you had dropped an arrow into the water supply of a nunnery which did lead to some unholy behaviors. But! The nuns seemed quite happy. Wasn’t that the point?
Tossing you to Hell through a hastily opened portal was honestly unprofessional. You ended up dropping three stories, upside down, in front of a butcher's shop.
In the seconds between Sera telling you, ‘You can return when you’ve made a sinner believe in true love.’ and Lute kicking you square in the chest through the hell door, you thought it wouldn’t be so hard. True, you couldn’t use your arrows as that wouldn’t be “true love” and also too easy, even gods weak to your shots, but ultimately sinners were still human. Humans were pushovers! Pliable, gentle at their hearts, desiring love and tenderness. How bad could the naughty ones be? 
And then you landed shoulder first onto the pavement. It hurt. Things didn’t hurt in heaven…
Your arrows scattered, quiver spilling when you inverted. Wincing, you scrambled to grab as many as were within reach. Your right shoulder was burning, a new sensation.
You counted them by name as you gathered: Eros, Agape, Philia, Pragma, Philautia, Ludus, Storge… panic. 
ErosAgapePhiliaPragmaPhilautiaLudusStorge— Mania wasn’t there. Arguably the arrow that caused you the most trouble, the sting of Mania would cause a madness that led to obsessive behaviors, possessiveness, jealousy. 
Pulling yourself up, arrows clutched in one hand, the other holding the place near your collar was throbbing, your eyes were frantic in their search.
“What’s this?”
You finally looked up from the sidewalk, a man’s back to you before he turned. Bile rose and burned your throat as he pulled Mania from where it had pierced his chest pocket.
His eyes, shades of red heaven didn’t even entertain, made a simple trip from the arrow's head to your face.
The man went so still you thought for a moment he was a hologram, but you could see the tiniest rise and fall of his chest. A deer facing down a bright light, he remained frozen in place as you began to approach him.
“Excuse my manners, but that’s mine and I really need it back.” Your injured arm moved first and the pain made you see white, a cry so sharp people turned to look. He snapped back to his senses, and with an odd sound you couldn’t quite place, he seemingly disappeared into the ground.
Mania was left behind, shining smugly against the dirty pavement. You didn’t want to make a reach for it, fear flooding you. You’d never felt pain before.
You’d seen it in humans, but never in your existence had you experienced it. Would both arms hurt?
You let the left hand abandon its guarding place and grabbed the errant arrow. Tucking into an alley, you crouched and returned the arrows to their quiver with immense difficulty.
Okay, yes it was Hell but maybe you were a little paranoid. A sense of being watched wouldn't leave you even after you re-emerged from the darkness of the alley. 
The enormity of your task set in as you surveyed the area. You, an obviously heavenly creature even without your wings out on display, would need time to make anyone believe in any form of love. Where would you go in the meantime? And now injured for the first time in your life? How long would that need to mend?
Expanding your view, you saw the currently defunct doomsday countdown hovering above the embassy. Perfect, holy ground would atleast keep you safe for the night, which was falling with a malignant speed.
They couldn’t have given you some time to change? Or pack a set of clothes? Your short sleeved button up a (literally) glowing shade of white was attracting too much attention, golden sandals now cloudy from various fluids across Pentagram city’s streets. Your heart shaped overalls a powdered purple, you looked like an adult child among a sea of very tired professionals. 
When you got to the embassy you only had one good arm to open the heavy doors, which unfortunately didn’t budge. Perhaps you needed two? Trying to muster up some adrenaline, you began to pant. Deep breaths like the women in labour you sometimes worked your magic on.
As soon as you gripped the handle you saw something that made you jump back, muscles flexing around whatever damage you’d done in your body from the fall. A large black snake? Some demonic squid’s appendage? Something unholy grabbed hold of the handle as soon as you had and gave such a tug the doors violently shook.
You spun around to the dark neighborhood behind you. Nothing. Turning back the thing was gone. And so was all of your hope. It was locked. The tears were unwanted and unnecessary, but just-- you were hurting so much, you were dirty, you were alone, and now essentially homeless.
If there was ever a reason to cry, you decided to let yourself have this one. 
The lamplights flickered and the entire street went pitch black. Because of course it did.
Hyperventilating now entirely without intention, you watched as one light to the left popped on with a static buzz. Desperate to be out of the darkness you ran to the spotlight. As soon as your foot entered the beam, the light beside it lit up. Your eyes wandered to heaven above, were they helping you? Had you not been entirely abandoned?
Of course! Yeah. They sensed you at the doors and sent off some guidance. How silly of you. Relief washed over you as you ran through the lights until your foot left one spotlight but the next hadn't popped on.
Twirling back to the embassy, you saw all of the lights shut off in succession behind you.
Just you and the one lamp now, and the glow of some TVs in the shop window to the right. What was the meaning of this? 
That weird sound you heard earlier but couldn’t place… electricity but dusty and barely contained. Your gaze was drawn to the radio in the shop window in front of you. You hadn’t noticed it until it buzzed to life. It lit up faintly, dial turning on its own until a high and smooth voice rang out, “Looking for your way to heaven? You’re in luck! The Hazbin Hotel is now accepting any and all willing to find redemption!”
This must have been the message, I mean, heaven was never good at being subtle.
“Just make your way to the left and toward the looming building atop the hill!”
Your head turned to your left and then up slightly. Bathed in red and white lights stood a behemoth of a building on the edge of a cliff.
Head still facing the hotel, your eyes flitted back to the radio.
“Reception is open 24 hours a day!”
You touched your arm, then patted at your pockets. Not a wallet or ID card on you. You were the 17th Cupid incarnation, why would you have a fucking ID card? But didn’t those places need such things? You’d seen every romcom earth had ever produced. There was always some issue with hotel check ins. 
“Not a red cent needed! We literally do not care who you are!”
Oh. Wait. Was this a trap?
“Created by the Lucifer Morningstar’s daughter! A foolish young woman who genuinely believes in reforming sinners!”
Lucifer?? The former angel, yes, but the word angel carried much more weight now. Perhaps he would have a modicum of pity given your circumstances.
You took an unsteady foot forward and toward the hotel when the street lights all buzzed back to life.
The path to the hotel was long, many demons stopping you on your way but quickly losing interest after a second or two of pestering you. You gave a silent prayer to the archangels for that blessing.
It must have been nearly 1am when you finally made it to the hotel’s doors. When you entered you found an empty reception desk and a poorly written note:
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Before the bell’s hammer even hit the metal, a man popped up from behind the counter.
The man.
The man you shot with Mania.
“Welcome to th-,”
You were outside and leaving the awning before he could finish, but just as quickly as you left he appeared in front of you, “Still missing your manners?”
He blocked your path with his remarkable size. Why were demons so tall? What was the use of it?
“Deer got your tongue?” He bent over unnaturally at the waist.
“What?”
“Would you like-,” he began.
You walked around him and down the driveway. He moved briskly beside you, slowly growing larger and larger until his body was several stories tall and entirely blocking the gates of the premises.
A horror. Hell was full of horrors.
He crouched, large toothy smile now baring down at you.
If you stabbed him in the eye with an arrow, which would cause the least trouble? It was a rule to never give a double love bite but this was a dire situation.
But if you were sent to hell for a little nun love fest, what would purposefully stabbing a sinner do?
He rapidly shrank, hands coming to his front to catch a summoned microphone…Cane? Staff?
“You’re injured. Just, come back inside. I promise I don’t bite without consent.” His head cocked to the side, a quiet, “Usually” tacked on.
We’re you visibly hurt? How bad was it? You looked past him to where sounds of yelling and music were rolling up the hill.
“You don’t have many options, angel.” He hissed the word through clenched teeth. Disgust almost seemed to lace his voice, but why, then, was he offering help?
“Not an angel. Cupid. Different.” Kind of. You gave the quiver a shake.
“Ah yes. That explains why you shot at me earlier.” A large hand came to your side and directed you to turn back around. He kept it there, pushing softly to keep you moving.
“I didn't shoot you.”, You huffed, crossing your arms before doubling over in pain. He stopped walking, hand resting now against your spine. Regaining your composure, you continued towards the hotel lobby, “My arrows fell out and…you caught one. With your body.”
“My pocket made quite the lucky catch. Now!” He snapped, a key appearing and floating into his hand with a sparkle of neon green, “Let’s get you to a room and cleaned up.”
“Do you work here?” You asked as he escorted you to one of the upper floors. The room was surprisingly clean and well decorated. You had expected a dingy highway motel. And while the room was largely dark wood and rich colors, it wasn’t as offensive as the rest of hell had been.
“Ah! My my, forgive me! I am Alastor, the radio demon and hotel manager here.” He bowed and offered his hand for you to place yours in. You did so without thinking, and he kissed your knuckles once but his mouth lingered over your flesh. Eyes half lidded, he glanced back up at you, “It is an absolute pleasure to meet you.”
There was no way to reverse Cupid’s arrows. Not by force. Love could only die by the hands of the ones who held it. Others could definitely bruise it, but ultimately it was up to the beholder. Mania was a little different, obsession could be dispelled by shattering whatever illusion the holder felt.
If the holder thought someone was the epitome of genteel chastity then a show of wanton sexuality could break the spell. If someone was convinced the object of their desire was very smart and savvy then acting ignorant could make the obsession fall flat. But there was no indication he had any illusions of you. Not yet, atleast.
Mania was now his, and he would keep it in his heart until he lost it or killed it. He could, technically, be possessed by, and be in the possession of, Mania for eternity. A sinner had never been shot before, that you knew of.
He didn’t noticeably react as you took back your hand. With a hum, he snapped again and you found a chair pulled up behind you and knocking into the back of your knees. You fell into the plush armchair, watching a metal basin of steaming water slide against your feet.
“Excuse you— ExcUU-,” you pulled your legs back but he pulled harder, Alastor removing your dirty shoes and tossing them off to the side like trash.
“You can't clean yourself with that broken collar bone. Allow me.” His hand gripped your ankles and dunked both into the water, “I insist.”
“It’s broken? How could I break a collarbone…,” the humor wasn’t lost on you, sinner washing holy feet, but your focus was entirely on the concept of a broken bone. 
“Falling twenty five feet head first, apparently.” Alastor rubbed soap into your calves.
“But I don’t break.” What happened to you, what had that kick into hell done? “You saw me? Also, that isn’t dirty.” you pointed at your calf.
“Peripherally.”
Did he mean the dirt or witnessing the fall? You sat in silence while he hummed, returning your feet to their original color. 
“Now,” he rose, patting his hands dry on a small towel, “Unbutton your top.”
Your expression was apparently quite loud, Alastor putting his hands up quickly, “Not like that. I’ve no interest in that sort of thing. I need to see your shoulder and upper chest.” He waited patiently, staring at you the entire time. His smile was so wide, teeth yellow and sharp. Unsettling. 
He really did look like he could eat you. You’d heard of such demons.
You slipped off the straps of your overalls, and began to open your shirt. He did away with the water, coming to kneel directly to your right as he watched. You couldn’t see anything without some kind of mirror. If it was bruised or swollen, it was out of your line of sight. Long clawed hands came to the front and back of your shoulder, pressing inward. You pulled away, a firm grip now as his right hand held at the left side of your waist.
“Are you a doctor?” Hotel manager and doctor would be an unlikely combo, but the day had been odd from start to finish.
A shake of the head, “But when I was alive, I did have quite a lot of experience with the inner workings of anatomy.” You grimaced, how could he say such sinister things with such a lovely voice? “Maybe not broken. But I’d say at least a fracture. Perhaps your heavenly body didn’t take full damage. It hurts when you move your arm, correct?” You nodded. 
He hummed, another click of his fingers and a fabric unfurled into his waiting hands. “Take it all the way off so I can set this.”
You were exhausted. The pain was gnawing at your nerves. No more fight in you, you just wanted rest, so you slipped off the shirt entirely and let him wrap your arm up into a simple sling. You were surprised his hands were so warm. Demons seemed like they’d be cold to the touch. Like lizards or pearls.
When he finished, you sitting in the large chair with your arm wrapped in a silky black sling, no shirt, and pastel purple heart-shaped overalls folded down your torso, you considered having another cry. You felt your chin tremble. You couldn’t recall ever crying from sadness before today.
It was just a mistake. You hadn’t meant to drop your arrow. Why were the archangels so angry? What’s some sex between nuns? 
Alastor bristled, hand coming to your cheek. It was an unwelcome gesture. You batted his hand away with your only free one, but he just sighed and set it on your thigh. You pushed it off, shooting him a glare. The audacity.
You thought you saw his eye twitch.
With what little energy was left in, you stood and open the door for him, “You have been very kind and helpful. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” Oh, right, “Please.”
He stood, pausing as he passed you. He was so tall. Shoulders wide. You felt your heart rate pick up. Even with two good collarbones you knew you couldn’t take him in a fight.
Alastor leaned down to your level, you backing up and into the door, “Until the morning.”
When he said it you had thought he was just going about formalities. But he wasn’t. You awoke some hours later to a knock. When you opened the door he was looming in your doorway again.
You tried to close the door but he put his foot in the gap, then a strong hand wrapped around the door’s edge and he pushed his way into the room.
You sputtered, arm flailing a little as you choked on which reaction to give first. You were undressed, in just your under things.
“I don’t want you to hurt yourself further when you get dressed. I’ll undo the sling and help.” Closing the door he then spun back around to face you, smile as bright as it was earlier that same day. 
“No! Absolutely not! Leave! Please!”
As he guided your arm through the shirt, you struggled to process what had happened. One minute you were indignant and stubborn and then he was so close to you, hands warm and gentle, and then already he was untying the sling and your shirt was just there and-
“See? Wasn’t that easy? No harm in accepting help.” Alastor looked you over from top to bottom.  
“Accepting? What part of any of that did I accept.” You stood bottomless in a button up, trying to get the overalls from the hanger with just your left hand. His chest pressed into your back, nearly forcing you to fall into the armoire, to assist you.
“The part where you didn’t actively fight me. I think we can call that acceptance until you learn better.” His words shook through your ribs and to your front. 
Annoyance rose in your chest, what was he thinking? Humans had no right to touch you let alone a sinner. “You’re an eldritch horror, please back away from the divine creature before you.” Alastor laughed, backing away with the clothes in his hands. Hand out, you motioned for him to pass it over. He tossed it on the floor, and took a seat on the bed with crossed legs. “Oh, I see. You’re an asshole. Perfect.” Pretense gone, manners not needed.
You grabbed it with your left hand and managed to get both legs into it before slinking it up and onto your left shoulder. While you tried to figure out how to do the right side, realizing the flaw in your order of processes, Alastor leaned over and unhooked the left strap, overalls falling to the carpet with a soft thud. 
You stood there for several moments, staring at him with purple fabric pooled around your ankles, him staring at you with a shiteating grin.
After finally getting dressed, preferring to not think about how, you were followed down to the lobby. 
“Breakfast?” He asked, you both in the elevator as he hadn’t gone more than three feet from you since he entered your bedroom. 
“No, no appetite. I need to find Lucifer.” You were sure he could help somehow. Somehow he could do….something. Details about Lucifer’s powers and abilities, his strengths and skills were all kept hush-hush. But if nothing else, you could find someone who understood your position. 
Your hand was being vigorously shaken before the elevator doors even closed behind you. Charlie Morningstar was not what you expected.  Chipper and bright, she was bursting with energy. 
“Gentle, Charlie. Our dear Cupid is injured.” Alastor’s hand came to the small of your back. You reached back with your left hand and knocked it off of you. 
“Like, the real actual cupid?!” Charlie’s eyes were shining, you could almost see the hearts floating up around her face. You felt Alastor’s hand again, now on your hip. You took three steps to the right, slipping from his fingertips.
“Yes, that is exactly what I-.” You were cut off, Charlie launching into a speech about sinners and heaven and redemption and so much more you couldn’t process. 
The energy she gave us was very angelic, which was confusing. Until you saw her father entering the common area.
The most hated creature in all of creation. Your best hope for a tiny sliver of comfort. 
Alastor’s hand reached for yours, fingers trapping your wrist and stopping you from approaching the king of hell. 
You shook your arm. His hold stayed. You tugged. He was unaffected, talking to Charlie now about your injury as if you weren’t right there. 
As Cupid, or at least as a cupid, you weren’t physically strong. You really weren’t meant to exist for a long time, just for as long as your body held up to repeated trips to the human realm. But, in heaven, you were never capable of being harmed. And of course, on earth, you weren’t really corporeal so no harm could come to you. You weren’t built for tug of war with a 7 foot tall demon.
“Mr. Devil! Sir!” You waved your foot, shouting out to the normal sized man. As he saw you, his eyes widened, “Hello there! Sorry to be a bother, I’m from heaven and-” You jerked your hand free, power walking to Lucifer, “I’m here on punishment. It’s a pleasure to meet another member of Elysium’s caretakers. Former or otherwise.”
Flustered, Lucifer fumbled with his phone before dropping it. “Oh! Shit! H-hello!”
You reached down to retrieve it for him, seeing black and red shoes behind you as you did. 
“What — why are you here?” Lucifer was looking at Alastor now, which was great news because for a second you thought he was talking to you. A sneaking feeling leaked into your chest that heaven hadn’t actually told him you were coming. 
“Just keeping an eye on my guest! As you can see she got injured and I’ve taken to the task of her safety while she’s in hell.” 
“No one asked him to do that, sir.” Your smile was strained, you could feel Alastor’s shoulder was touching yours. You looked to where you were connected and then back to Lucifer, “Are all sinners like this?”
“Honestly? Yes. They’re all pretty terrible.” Lucifer sighed, “What did you do?”
A cold sweat, “Misused an arrow. I can’t leave hell until I make a demon who doesn’t already believe in true love…believe in it.”
“Oh no! That’s— you’re gonna be here awhile.” Lucifer pulled at his collar in a mock attempt to release the awkward heat of the conversation. He saw you wither, and Alastor seemed to bloom, so he quickly changed pace, “But! Uhhh, you can totally do it! Charlie has some of the best of the worst here. If I can ever help, just ask!” Nervous laughter that did not put you at ease. He seemed so silly. So sweet and easily flustered. 
You felt your hope dash for a second time in less than a day. How long would you be in hell? How long was awhile?
“She is my responsibility now. She won’t be needing anything from you, your majesty.”
A darkness came over you as the two demons began to bicker. You now had your own obsessed shadow; a large and creepy sinner following you around. How on earth could you get close enough to a demon to complete your task? Convincing someone of true love would require trust and time. This would be impossible with Alastor attached to your side. 
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You spent the first week in hell in the hotel. Everytime you got the courage to leave and explore the areas outside, you’d find yourself shadow portaled “back to safety” by Alastor. It was like the human film ‘Groundhog Day’, always starting over back in the lobby. 
No matter where you went in the hotel, he was either beside you or where you had been headed. You saw the sky less often than Alastor’s grin and you couldn’t stand it. You took to hiding, leaning against darkened stairwell corners and sitting on the floor of the ladies restroom. 
It bought you a little time to yourself, but the second you moved he was there again. Asking if you were a lost little doe, hand reaching for your waist to pull you near him, red eyes threatening to swallow you whole.
Toward the end of the week, while helping you get dressed as he did daily, Alastor took a step back. “I could get you some new clothes. Cannibal town has the finest duds.” He lifted the lace that lined the top of your  pocket, “You stick out. No demon is going to let you trick them into believing in true love like this.”
You could have screamed. No, no demon would even approach you with Alastor standing behind you. It absolutely wasn’t the clothes. You politely rejected the offer and went about your day.
The next morning you awoke to find your floor littered with strips of something. Flinging open the armoire you found two empty hangers. You turned back, noticing the white and purple color to the fabric confetti.
The march to Alastor’s room was easy, as it was 10 feet in front of your door. He had placed you directly across from him, because, ya know, Mania.
He clearly hadn’t expected you to leave your room in your underwear, eyes like saucers as he yanked you in.
“What in heaven are you doing?! Anyone could see you.” He hissed, closing the door with a little too much force.
“Whose fault is that?!” You seethed in return. Anger was something you rarely ever felt but he was inspiring new things in you. “Someone shredded my clothes.”
Alastor’s ears folded back, eyes looking to the left and up, “Odd. Are you sure? Maybe you accidentally threw them away.” That devilish grin you’d come to expect. He knew damn well how stupid that was.
You stomped your foot, if you had two working hands you’d try to rip his antlers off, “Are you serious?!” You turned to leave, kicking the door before attempting to open it.
A large hand pressed back on the door, slamming it shut. His breath was dropping down the back of your neck despite his considerable height, “You will not be leaving this room in such a state of undress, my dear.”
His voice was so low and close, had anyone ever spoken to you with such a commanding tone? A new feeling twitched in you. You blocked it out.
“You don’t get to make decisions for me,” said too softly.
His other hand came to press on the door, too. An arm to either side of you, trapped, as he leaned in. You pressed yourself against the door to make distance from his body.
“Oh, I absolutely do. Who is going to stop me? You?” Alastor’s voice had noticeably dropped an octave as he whispered what felt like a challenge against your hair.
Who indeed…you had no strength, an arrow would either be useless or complicate things. Lucifer seemed preoccupied and jittery. Heaven wasn’t returning your prayers.
He took your silence as an answer.
“Exactly. Now, I’ll only ask nicely once.” His hands left, warmth on your neck fading. You turned to look at him, sensing his eyes burning holes into your back.
He was holding a two piece set. Older style, 1920s American maybe. Black and burgundy. When did he have time to get this when every hour seemed to be spent near you?
“May I help you get dressed?”
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You’d gotten quite close with the few residents who didn’t run at the sight of Alastor. Husk was one of them. You became fast friends, often drinking and lamenting about Alastor’s general existence as Alastor sat some 15 feet away on the sofa. Still not allowed outside the hotel gates, your second week you spent many hours at the bar talking to the surprisingly kind grump.
To your delight Alastor didn’t seem bothered by it, oddly, as long as you were in eyesight he seemed content.
You thought maybe his mania was already waning. Sure you hadn’t attempted to leave the hotel, and you hadn’t argued when he dressed you, but…Ah, hm. Fuck.
Mania can look like Love when you don't struggle against it. A fly motionless in a web can elude the spider for a little bit.
Don't push against the restraints and you can forget they are there entirely.
But push you did, accidentally. Husk was making some new cocktails, trying to enjoy himself and be creative. 
“Yeah, that’s it.” He grinned.
“Good?” 
He took another sip before handing the glass to you. You grabbed it, taking a taste. Sweet but a bite as it went down. Something with citrus. When you looked up from the glass, he was gone.
A choking noise from behind the bar made you stand up in your seat, eyes flying from Husk to Alastor. A glowing green leash dragging Husk across the floor, his hands desperately pulling at the collar as he struggled to breath. 
“Stop!” You shouted, crawling over the bar and grabbing the chain with your good arm. You tried to pull back, to slow the choking force, but got pulled along with it. “Alastor!” You screamed as your shoulder hit the floor and sent searing pain down your arm. 
You could hear Husk gasp, the green glow disappearing from past your clenched eyelids. 
“Why can’t you-,” Alastor started to speak a he came to your side. Husk scurried away, crawling back from the demon. You hit the hand Alastor offered you but were surprised to see his face painted with concern.
“I said stop.” After rolling to your feet you began to march away. “Every time I find something nice in this piece of shit domain you remind me I’m in hell.”
You had almost made it to your room when a hand pulled you by the good shoulder and pushed you against the wall. It still hurt. 
“Don’t you know? Sharing a drink, it’s as close to a kiss as you could get without bringing your mouth to his.”
“It was a drink, Alastor. You had no right.”
His hand settled on your throat. No grip, just a gentle placement, “I have every right.” His brows knit together in worry, in confusion. “What should I do to make you understand me?” His hand came to your chin, thumb ghosting over your lips.
“If I let you go too far, someone will surely take you. Who wouldn’t? Please. Stop pushing me so much.” His eyes were almost loving as they shined down at you. His breath was picking up. You could hear the desperation in his voice. 
Those damned eyes were unrelenting in their stare into your own. There was no creature in presence or audacity in heaven like Alastor. You’d never encountered anything like him. 
“Of all the Love you had to take a stray hit from, Mania really was the cruelest accident.” You held your hand at the crook of your neck, wondering if you did more damage. No, if he did more damage.
“Mania? Is that the arrow I caught? How fitting.” His finger pulled down on your bottom lip. You’d seen this movie, you’d been there for these scenes in dorm rooms and under rainy awnings, in darkened beds and sunny fields. You could move, no part of him was actually holding you physically. “Yes, maybe I am obsessed. But whose fault is that? Will you take responsibility for it?” His chest was shaking with every breath. Why didn’t you move? Just walk away. Knock off that touch as you had been doing. You hadn’t noticed how quickly you were breathing, too, until his hand was pulling your chin up and towards his face.
It only came out as a whisper, half said as it was only half meant, “don’t.”
A laugh, “At least pretend you mean it.” 
Your knees came together in some desperate attempt to stop the feeling creeping up your legs and to your lap, “Apologize to Husk.”
“Why would I ever do such a thing?” His breath was so warm on your mouth, face tilted to keep his nose from hitting yours.
“What a terrible reply!” You slid down the wall and slipped under his arms, “If you shadow work your way into this room I will fuck that horny spider on camera just to spite you.” You opened your door, pausing to make sure he was still down the hall, “Angel on Angel, working title.”
Your whole body went slack, the sounds of a wild animal loose in the hallway rocking the door as you took shaky steps to the bed, paintings on the walls rattling as he did unseen damage. Sounds of an unknown, unholy animal raging just past the thin drywall. 
Had you ever seen Mania work so quickly with so little fuel? Hand coming to your mouth, a burning where his finger touched you. 
No one had touched your lips before. No one could ever hope to. Humans were beyond the realm of feeling you, and you didn’t allow kissing with the partners you took in heaven. Personal rule. As in, it was too personal.
The lights in your room flickered, briefly shrouding you in darkness before coming back to life.
Deja vu.
Oh.
What had he introduced himself as? The radio demon? It wasn’t heaven who brought you to the hotel. Of course not. 
No. Obviously not.
ᡣ𐭩ˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist
∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):
@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,
@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay , @asleeponelmstreet , @tremendoushearttaco , @mutifandomkid , @sapphirecaelis , @itzzzkiramylove  @saccharine-nectarine , @viannasthings , @looking1016 , @ultimate-duck-king-lucifer , @blakeaha , @astraechos , @reath-solia ,
🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan
@faeoffaith , sailorsmouth , @jeannyjaykaydeh , @jyoongim , @cosmic-lavender , @saturn-alone , @lustylita , @radio-darling , @kaylopolis , @dickmastersworld , @leviskittywh0re
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girlokwhatever · 3 days
Text
you belong to me
paige bueckers x fem!reader
warnings: allusion to sex/sexy things, alcohol consumption, jealousy, sassy reader and her sassy gf paige, slight angst if you think too hard, suffocating sexiness, nasty men
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“paige i’ll be right back, gonna go talk to my friend from psychology, ok?”
that’s what you said 17 minutes ago, your girlfriend has been counting. she checked her watch the second you left, and now she’s been checking it for what seemed like every five seconds.
she wanted to go with you, she really did. but the two of you just had this conversation, she’s always scaring people off with her ‘intense stare’. that’s what you said. so she left you go off on your own at this party and she can’t even remember whose party it even is, or whose house she’s in.
paige kept herself occupied with her drink, but now it’s almost gone and she can definitely feel it. where are you? it’s hit 23 minutes now. if not for the sound of kk’s voice in her ear, paige is positive she would’ve gotten up as soon as you left to go find you. it’s lonely without you, nothing to hold and no smile to admire. she hasn’t even gotten to dance with you tonight. she misses the way you dance, leaving no space between the two of you. you always find a way to grind on her too, and she loves every second of it.
you on the other hand were preoccupied, stuck in what seemed to be a never ending conversation with some guy you didn’t even know.
your friend from psych, vanessa, was caught up with this guy’s friend or something. you can’t really remember though. this guy, derek.. or something? had bought the both of you shots and you didn’t want to seem rude, so you took them. now he’s asking to dance and pulling you away from the bar and towards the middle of the floor, but you don’t even remember how long you’ve been away from paige. you hardly remember leaving her in the first place.
when he grabbed your hips, swaying you in rhythm with his body, a pit forms in your stomach and you really want paige. where’d she even go?
once the 30 minute mark hit, paige hastily excused herself. all she could think about was you. where’d you even go?
she catches sight of vanessa, so she knows you must be close by. she’s approaching your friend when her eyes find you in the crowd, dancing with some guy that was definitely shorter than her. his hands are on your hips and he’s dangerously close, too close actually.
her mind goes crazy, she’s seeing red and can’t even believe the sight in front of her.
why were you dancing with him?
pushing past the people in her way, she reaches you in no time. she’s pushing him away and pulling you closer all at once.
yeah he’s definitely shorter.
the first thing she notices is your slightly glossed eyes and she knows you’re a little past tipsy, but the guy touching you seemed pretty sober. he’s mad that paige interrupted but she doesn’t care, shoving his shoulder smugly before pulling you to the corner of the party.
she’s mad. definitely. your eyes trace her features and she’s so pretty, even when she’s mad. especially when she’s mad. she’s silent and staring at you for a moment before speaking up.
“did you enjoy yourself, huh? liked the way he was touching you?”
“no paigey” you’re gripping her hand, fidgeting with her pinky and avoiding her deadly eye contact. before you get too comfortable, she takes the hand you’re playing with and grips your chin, making you look her in the eyes. her pupils are blown wide but you still see the glowing blue you admire so much.
“did you let him have you, hm baby? that why you were gone away from me for so long? to let another guy taste you?” you both know she doesn’t believe what she’s saying, but she’s mad and when she’s mad she can’t help it. her accusations only send heat to your core because it’s her you imagine doing those things to you, not that other guy.
you’re shaking your head no but it doesn’t matter. she’s ripping you away from the wall, keeping both hands on you as she guides you through the crowd and out of the party.
her head is spinning she’s so fucking mad. but even through all the red she sees, she’s able to admire how beautiful you look right now. your hair is flowing down your back, your legs are on display in your short skirt and they look so good, your nails are painted her favorite color, and she knows you’re braless because she sees your nipples peak in the chilly air.
“let you go off on your own and look what happens.”
the two of you are in her car now driving back to the dorm. paige doesn’t seem too concerned about all of your other friends at the bar, she’ll deal with it later. all she can think about is you. the urge to cleanse every inch of your skin that douche touched is consuming her whole.
“you belong to me, baby.”
☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 𐦍 ☾𖤓˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆.ೃ࿐·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
THIS IS SPICYYY
should i complete it with a part two???? (would be pure smut honestly)
LMK!!!!
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goldsbitch · 3 days
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can I request a Lando x reader where the reader’s weakness is when people stroke her hair? Her mind goes completely blank and she falls silent immediately when people stroke her hair and Lando uses it at his advantage.
Fluffy pls and ty🫶🏻
omg, i love this prompt so much - thank you and hope you like it!!
This is one is dripping with sweetness a little too much, don't say I did not warn you. No other warning.
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Lando was born a tease, oscillating between clueless and shy, to unapologetic and bordeline dickish. It all depended on the setting, his relationship to the person and how much sleep he got the night before. Sometimes your boyfriend was the sweetest little thing, giggling shyly about everything instead of coming up with an actual response, and the other times he was a walking menace actively seeking every opportunity how to get you into a flustered state.
You and Lando were full on deep in the beginning of your relationship, the sweetest part of the honeymoon phase. To put it bluntly - fucking almost non stop. And the desire was never-ending. Blinding sunshine kissed good morning to every day you two got to wake up next to each other. Problems seem to be non existent. Bliss.
It was the way his hair curled when he got a little bit sweaty, his toned body what you were desperate to explore from every angle and the need to know every little secret trick that worked on him. It became some sort of a game, who would get better at knowing the other. Which one of you found all the buttons to push.
Lando rose up that morning and chose violence. Metaphorical one, of course. Snuggling up to you in order to wake you up as well for some morning work out, as he like to call it. Whispering sweet nothings to your ear and touching you all over your body. But you were just incredibly sore from the past few days, physically unable to keep up.
"Why don't you love me anymore," he pleaded jokingly as you murmured another weak appeal for your sleep.
"Lando, you know I love you more than anything," you replied, still half asleep. But it was hard to distinguish as reality resembled a sweet dream everyday lately.
"I remember when you used to want me, physically," he kept going.
"We literally had sex few hours ago, stop whining," you kissed him between your words. He looked at you with his incredible eyes, little devil dancing in each one of them.
"Exactly, too long ago. Wish I could go back in time when you were not sore and get inside you all over again."
You simply laughed, absolutely smitten with this lovey dovey side of him. His words made you melt like butter sitting under direct sun. You brushed your noses together and then he kissed you.
The best part of romantic relationships is the one that you cannot absolutely share with other people, the almost embarrassing pleas, desire and gross goofiness, simping at each other all the time.
"Fine, if you play by these rules, I'll come back with my own revenge," he said finally as you inevitably had to start getting ready to go to the paddock with him.
Today was the big day. You'd been spotted in public countless of times, the "girlfriend" title officially sitting on your head for weeks now. But this was the first time you were to join him in the paddock as a wag. You were trying to hide your nervousness, but he saw right through you. Before you exited the apartment, he made you stop and took your face in his hands. "I'm happy I get to do this with you. I love parading you around, for everyone to see that we're a team." You smiled, his words hitting like first snowflakes of the year. "Poor Oscar, I can't wait to finally trauma dump the shared misery you bring to our lives," you jokes and locked lips with him once again. "God, it's terrifying how much I like you," you said automatically, without having to think about it.
//
It actually wasn't as bad as you'd expected. It was definitely weird and strange, but not necessarily bad. Having Lando by your side as you passed the gates definitely helped. The photographers were lined up as people at a shooting range would and it did feel like that at first. But as quickly as you were initially overwhelmed, fatigue took over you and you blocked their ever-presence out. Trying to chat up those Lando introduce you to and memorizing the names. You knew how much some of these people meant to Lando, so you were trying to be at your best behavior. The thought that his friends would hate you in the same way as some of his fans haunted you.
In the middle of all the rush, you parted for a moment. To be honest, little peace of quiet and chill was something you appreciated. But remember, Lando woke up and chose violence this morning. And his plan was quite simple, yet bulletproof.
"Y/N! There you are, my love," you heard from coming from behind you. "I have someone to introduce to you! I'm very much sure you'll appreciate meeting him." As you turned, you saw Daniel Ricciardo walking your way with your Lando. You were a little perplexed as to why Lando was so cheerful about that. You clearly remembered him getting very upset when you admitted to him that at some point in the past, when formula 1 was a world far away from you, that you had a minor crush on Daniel. Which obviously went out of the window once you met Lando. That did not mean that Lando was 100% ok with it.
"Y/N, as I'm sure you know, this is Daniel, hell of a driver and good friend of mine," Lando continued and you knew him well enough to know he had ulterior motives. Not sure what to do, you smiles shyly and shook Daniel's hand.
"Hi, Daniel," you said, eyes flinching between him and Lando. You were full on preparing for anything. Lando's smirk almost had a life of his own at that point.
"Nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I've heard quite a lot things about you!" Daniel opened, life of the party as per usual.
You chuckled. "All good things, I hope!" And with that, Lando stepped behind you and put his arm around you.
"Only the best," he said, leaned closed and inconspicuously started to stroke you hair gently. Oh, he did not just go this low.
It was slow, yet like tidal wave. You stopped breathing for a moment. Your body relaxing, as if you'd just taken the world's best sedatives. The way his hands made you feel was etherial. It was the same sensation the luckier ones experienced when listening to ASMR and the less fortunate ones sometimes called an orgasm. Shivers slowly traveling around your whole body, every part becoming sensitive out of nowhere. You weren't able to look at Daniel, let alone continue speaking. Lando was more than aware of what touching your hair did to you. He'd discovered this trick quite early on. And it was his favorite one.
"So, where are you from?" Daniel attempted at small talk. But how could you possibly give a fuck at that moment. Not that your body would even allowed you to respond. The only thing you were able to take in from the outside world were the soft slow movements Lando's fingers were doing, blocking everything out instanteniously.
Daniel stared at you, waiting. From his perspective, this was a very awkward meeting.
Lando answered for you, with a smirk you did not see, but could feel from the tone of his voice. "You have to excuse her, she is bit shy in front of new people."
You could not give less of a fuck at that moment of what these two were saying. Your lips were starting to shiver from getting so sensitive. You took a short breath and someone who would be standing close and knew you well would know, that what escaped your mouth was not a nervous laugh, but something very close to a moan.
Lando and Daniel were saying words, but none of that was important, while Lando's fingers were working his magic. He would only leave your hair alone once he saw Daniel leaving.
You wanted to be mad at him. But you were still sort of high from all the sensation bomb Lando dropped on you. You slowly turned around to face him, coming down from your own personal nirvana.
You took a deep breath while he watched you without a blink and biting hims smile away.
"You promised," you let out air that got stuck in your lungs somewhere along the way. "You promised you would not do this in public." Your brain was slowly wiring up to normal again.
"I told you I'd punish you for the morning," he said as if it was the most amusing thing ever. "Also, if Daniel is my competition, I'm going to use all the advantage I have."
Lando had a way of looking at you that made you unravel instantaneously and there was no way of stopping it. There was just something about his smile that did it for you. As anyone who is properly in love, you could not imagine somebody being able tor resist that. In your love soaked mind, he was irresistible. To a normal mind, he was probably just a regular guy, but that idea was unfathomable to you.
"I'm pretty sure that after what I just pulled, you will not have to worry about Daniel liking me," you chuckled, having to accept that Lando won this one.
"I would never let my guard down...But yeah, I think this one is pretty safe," he chuckled once more. You kissed his overly proud face and promised to yourself to get back at him later, in the privacy of his bedroom.
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anantaru · 20 hours
Text
⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ ACE OF SPADES
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your first date with rich boy aventurine is more fun than you initially expected, who knows where things will go from there // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. fluff, slightly suggestive, rich boy au, reader wears a dress, flirty aventurine, a/n. this will have a part two if you can't tell, fem! reader ♡
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you turn your face to the left and let your visual perception take in the luxurious casino you've been invited in— undeniably, your first reaction was dedicated to the chimes of whistles of various slot machines announcing wins and losses, in combined action with racketing noises of their shafts being pulled.
your jaw parts and your eyes grow, it felt surreal to stand here with an expensive dress hugging your body tight, a small gift from your date, nothing more, nothing less. rich boy aventurine slowly slides his palm over the back of your hand to lure your thoughts back to himself as he intertwines his fingers with your own.
you stiffen, it didn't take a genius to notice that you were slightly nervous about your first date with the infamous gambler. if only he would've picked a better place to get to know each other— alas, in a way it was exactly what you've expected.
well yes, aventurine choose the probably, most unromantic spot for a first date— but, you got a dress as a gift, together with an embellished necklace and a free entry to a luxurious, private casino.
so, did you really mind? hmm, not really. in fact, it was quite unique and exciting to be here, you also felt safe by his side, and especially intrigued to get to know more about his, quote on quote, playground.
men, or how people called them here; high rollers in pretentious suits, glide like sharks over the soft tumble of the dice. it's all very crowded and distracting, needless to say it was interesting to witness, but you notice how your heart was thumping faster, that's when you began to feel yourself getting difficulties to breathe evenly.
snugly pressed against aventurine, you walk past the shrill murmur of crowds and bells of roulette wheels as the gambler spins you towards his chest, his hand carrying on to hold yours gently, "are you okay? you look a little nervous," he says nonchalantly, although his handsome voice told you a different story, an affectionate perception, "our table is right there, we can take a seat and talk if you want. "
your gaze slowly shifts to where aventurine was pointing his head towards as you look at a large table right next to the exclusive sight of exquisite gold and silver fountains and statuaries. this must've cost a fortune, you were certain that this area alone was the most breathtaking one.
you awkwardly glare up at him, your breathing picking up on tempo, "of course, but..." your last note was drawn out as aventurine cocks a curious brow at you, "would it be okay to excuse myself for a bit?"
you continue shortly, fists balled, "it's a little stuffy here, you see, i'd love to take some fresh air without bothering you about it,"
in all honesty, the air was, well, utterly despicable. the lofty mixture of overpriced cologne and sweat penetrated your nostrils to the point where it began to ache and scratch your brain.
despite the fact that everything was overwhelming in its entirety.
being embarrassed by your human reactions might be an imprecise wording and false emotion to feel, you shouldn't feel bad about this. although you felt awkward and uneasy to ask aventurine if you could take a swift breather outside.
what if he found you to be boring now? or even worse, ungrateful when it was him who made it possible for you to see something like this in the first place.
a high class casino that could never be visited by the ordinary.
he looks at you through his glasses and you could swear his eyes had a mellow glow, a tender glimmer of serenity as his lips carve into a handsome smile, "oh of course, lets go right away so you won't get nauseous," he utters out, his stomach sitting heavy with lead and eagerness to look out for you.
you freeze for a second, "uh, wait, i really don't want to ruin this night for you," and sigh, letting your gaze wander around everywhere but his direction before tapping out a nervous rhythm against the soft marble on the floor.
all aventurine does was laugh airily, "you're adorable,"
"you're not ruining anything, in fact, you really couldn't, even if you tried,"
ugh, everything about you is just so pretty, you're sweet and angelic and he's glad he's bought this dress for you, it fits you like a second skin— aventurine takes note of your beauty, he stores it into the most important places in his brain so he could dream about you later.
memorize how this dress looks on you. closer and closer.
"but here, take my jacket, okay? it's rather cold," he flips his jacket down his shoulders before draping it over your own before suddenly closing the distance from his lips to your ear— silent, there's a voice next to your skin, it's deep, handsome and smoking hot. barely above an octave as it holds a teasing verge to it, "i wouldn't want you to catch a cold, yeah?"
you hum in agreement as you rest your hands above his clothed chest, butterflies storm through your belly and settle heavily inside as aventurine wraps one arm around your waist, his breath wafting around your lovely lips.
you felt the need to kiss him, and so did he, feel the same towards you. for a moment, you two linger feeling each others warmth a little longer, relishing in your precious attempts to getting to know each other better. it's slightly awkward, you could tell that aventurine noticed how your eyes were fighting the urge to keep admiring him.
yet, he's not complaining— he could never, not when you're so cute, and your touch on him was consistently warm, your trace firm but confident, content and safe.
he hopes you will enjoy yourself tonight, and maybe, only maybe, you will invite him over to your place later.
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rich boy aventurine masterlist
©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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deadsetobsessions · 23 hours
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REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams
ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS
In Tucker's defense, he thought he was doing someone a favor. A life saving favor, in fact.
"What the fuck-!” The red helmeted guy yelped as a deceptively strong Tucker yanked him onto the bike and sped away. Before Tucker could explain, the GIW agents behind them got in a lucky shot and hit the helmeted liminal with a strong blast to the head.
Clearly, his gear wasn’t equipped with anti-ecto protections, because the guy slumped over on Tucker’s arms. This was bad, because Tucker now had to maneuver about 230 pounds of Gotham muscle while speeding away from government agents. He flicked on the jammer so they couldn’t track his and red helmets’s ecto signature.
“STOP!”
“Ah, shit.” Tucker cursed as he somehow managed to gather up red-helmet’s body and stabilize the bike. “C’mon, Tuck, you can do this.”
Blasts of anti-ecto tech slammed into buildings around him. Luckily, Gotham was used to this kind of shit so people just moved out of the way before going back to their day. Tucker wove around traffic, trying to lure the agents into slamming face first into some signposts.
“Stop damaging the local infrastructure!” Tucker yelled back at them, speeding up.
“WELL REIMBURSE THE PEOPLE AND THE CITY LATER! TELL US WHERE PHANTOM IS!!”
“Over my dead body, you jerks!” Tucker took a sharp right, catching red helmet before the man could slip off. He sped up and took the ramp downwards, heart beating loudly in his ears as he strained his senses to figure out- ah, they took the ramp upwards. Good. Now, all he has to do is bring red helmet back to home base.
“Oh my god. I kidnapped him,” Tucker groaned, slapping at his face before quickly placing his hands back on the handle bar once the bike teetered over with red helmet’s weight. “I’m a criminal. Oh my god.”
Then, as he found his way back, “…Well, it’s not like I wasn’t a criminal before, with the whole resisting arrest thing.”
——
Tucker dumped the red helmet liminal onto the couch of their shared apartment and went to take a shower. When he got out ten minutes later, he found Danny and Sam staring at the helmet guy. Tucker pushed up his glasses (after letting them defog from the shower) and greeted them.
“Hey, guys! I found him while I was running away from Agent L and J.”
“You okay?” Danny asked, eyes immediately flicking over Tucker for injuries.
“Yeah, I’m good. They’re horrible shots.”
“I thought Danny was the one who brought home strays but you…?” Sam commented, arms crossed and a purple painted nail tapping at her arm. “Wait. Isn’t this… that crime lord? What was his name?”
“Red Hood?” Danny offered, turning back to look at the guy on their couch.
Tucker paled. “Oh, no.”
Guns? Check.
Red Helmet? Check.
Bat-Symbol? Check.
Shit.
They collectively stared at the guy in silence.
“…Tucker,” Sam slowly said. “Did you accidentally kidnap a crime lord?”
“Hey, I didn’t want him to get killed! He’s liminal! Even more than us, except for Danny.” Tucker grumbled. “Man, this is why I leave the hero-ing to Danny. I do one good thing and suddenly I have a crime lord on my couch.”
“My couch,” Sam corrected, as she was the one that furnished their apartment.
“What do we do now?”
“Eat dinner,” Tucker said. “I’m famished.”
Sam nodded. “Wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn’t shoot us the moment he wakes up. Then, we explain.”
Danny grabbed all the visible guns he could see. Tucker went to start dinner. Sam supervised, because her boys were idiots and now she had a crime lord in her apartment.
——
Jason groaned, head swimming in a sea of dull throbbing pain as his eyes fluttered open.
Then he remembered he was abducted, and bolted up right. He paused as a series of quick observations made its way to his consciousness.
One. He’s not tied up. Weird, because everyone knows that he’s a weapon even without his weapons.
Two. His weapons were right there, just in reach.
Three. He was surrounded by teenagers and/or young adults who were all scrolling along on their phones.
“Oh, hey, he’s awake! Hi!” The Wayne bait said, electric blue eyes fixing itself on Jason. “Were you aware you died?”
Jason went rigid, hundreds of way to-
“Danny!” A scolding tone cut of Jason’s immediate panic. Two couch pillows slammed into Danny’s face, courtesy of goth girl and nerdy but strong.
“Dude, why do you start with that? Why are you like this?” His… possible kidnapper? asked, exasperatedly flinging his hands into the air as he rolled his eyes.
Goth girl scowled. “Boys. Crime lord, couch, remember?”
“Hey, in my defense, I died too!”
And that- as Jason remained dumbfounded in this circle of tomfoolery- was what snapped Jason out of his daze.
“You what?” He rasped out.
And when he saw them open their mouths at the same time, Jason just knew his headache was going worse.
——
Tucker, effortlessly plucking the actual red hood from the streets: and I whoop-
Jason, whose type is strong, nerdy, and tall: *heart eyes* *but not really because he’s unconscious*
——
Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker.”
Jason enters chat:
Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker and his boyfriend, the Red Hood.”
——
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fairuzfan · 2 days
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About liberal Zionists.
First, Zionism is a nationalistic ideology so we have strike one for how they constantly feel "betrayed" by leftism. But also, when I go to the blog of a liberal queer rights, equal rights for all Zionist there are some things I noticed.
Zionist 1 has mostly agreeable positions in their own thoughts and reblogs. They want the sufferings of the Palestinians to end but have mostly shallow ideas on how that could be accomplished because the central violence that the state Israel enacts on the Palestinians is invisible to them except a short "the settlements are bad". They accept that Gaza is suffering too much but stay clear to call it a genocide.
Zionist 1 often reblogs from Zionist 2.
Zionist 2's opinions and reblogs are now way less agreeable. When I say "agreeable" I mean agreeable to a nominal western, white, somewhat leftist audience. Z2 openly has nationalistic views, everything starts on 7.10 except Hamas was always bad. Some denialism on past Israeli atrocities. Calls Jews critical of Israel "self-hating" without pause. When the topic of genocide comes up they say it doesn't exist. Maybe they criticise Netanyahu.
Z1 makes sure that only some of Z2' thoughts and reblogs end up their own blog.
Z2 often reblogs from Z3 who is an open, flag waving, idf idolising, arab hating islamophobe. They don't care about civilian casualties because in their opinion there are no civilians and/or they deserve it for electing Hamas and not fighting against Hamas right this second. The hostages are worshipped, just like every political decision of Israel, current past future. They deny that a genocide is happening but only on the word alone because they wish that everyone in Gaza should die and disappear.
Z2 makes sure that only some of Z3 thoughts and reblogs end up on their own blog.
And this is how supposed liberal or leftist Zionists regurgitate far right fanaticism even if not openly all the time.
You distilled this perfectly, this is exactly why I dislike so many liberal zionists on here. They straight up reblog from people who were genocide deniers and those people reblog from outright fascists. Like yeah if I see you make community with people who spout zionist beliefs then I'm considering you a zionist, even if you deny it.
Also the liberal zionists always talk about how we should "stop dehumanizing Israelis for the actions of their governments" when we very much can see the way Israelis perpetuate the colonization of Palestine. Oh and they also don't think palestine is colonized by Israel.
But yeah this is exactly it thank you anon.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 3 days
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It's Never Over (C. S.)
contains: 2nd person pov, angst, somewhat toxic relationship, verbal argument, relationship issues, kissing, smut (softdom!chris), overstimulation, angry/make up sex, unprotected sex, 3.4k words
a/n: hi friends. this is apart of the triple threat event sooo don't forget to go see my babies @luv4kozume and @rootbeerworshiper for two more fics for your smutty needs. j will be posting in one hour and sienna is an hour after that.
masterlist
Maybe we’re too young.
The thought bounces around your head uncontrollably as you watch Chris move silently through the kitchen from your perch on the counter. You haven’t been home long- maybe 10 minutes- but after the day you’ve had, the silence feels like a jab.
“So,” you start, raising your eyebrow as he pulls out a drink and leans against the counter across from you. “How do you think the pictures will turn out?”
He gives you a tired look, seemingly trying to gauge whether your question is a trap. “I actually really fucked with it. It’s a new look for us.”
You two had spent the entire day on the set of a photo and promo shoot for Fresh Love’s new line of products. He was right about it being a new look and he’d gone all out for the launch; the shoot had been completely 90s-themed to match the vibe of the products and he’d recruited some influencers to model. 
Not that you were keeping track or anything, but the original idea had been yours and you’d put countless hours in helping him execute it. That isn’t to say you minded at all... at least not until today.
“I’m glad it’s exactly how you envisioned it.” You say, testing the waters unsure if you wanted to raise the issue again.
But Chris takes the bait and groans. “Don’t start.”
“I didn’t even say anything, Chris. But I just don’t understand why my input stops being taken seriously as soon as other people are around.”
“Did you ever stop and consider that maybe my photoshoot wasn’t the place for you to start a random ass argument?” 
“I wasn’t trying to start one. And my bad, I didn’t realize you stopped being my boyfriend when you walked on a set.” Your eyes narrow as you stare him down, irritation at the situation resurfacing.
He sighs heavily, running a hand over his face. “I don’t but it’d be cool if my girlfriend supported me on days like this instead of adding more stress.”
Your eyes grow wide and you look around dramatically. “I’m sorry? Is that not all I do? Planning with you. Pitching ideas. Running around finding any little thing I can do to help? You wouldn’t even have the new product ideas without me.”
He throws his hands up in surrender, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. “And I’m grateful, baby. You know I am. I’m not saying you’re not important to me. I’m saying it can’t always be about you.”
“Can it sometimes be about me?” You question, feeling like you’re losing your mind. “I would never have an entire photoshoot full of influencers and not even ask you to join. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”
“Oh my-” He laughs out harshly, turning away for a second and then turning back. “I knew that’s what this was about. The team wanted people with over a million, not me-”
“And who owns Fresh Love, Chris? Don’t act like you have no control.”
“I own it, but it’s not just me who runs it. How stupid would I be if I hired a marketing team and didn't fucking listen to them?” His voice raises slightly and he shakes his head, attempting to regain composure.
“Probably as stupid as I looked pulling up to the set and looking for hair and makeup. You should have told me.” With that you slide off of the counter, intending to let the argument die there and go to bed but he follows behind you. 
“How are you mad at me because you assumed you were modeling? I never said that. I invited you to the set like I do every time because You. Are. My. Girlfriend.” He claps to emphasize his points and you spin to glare at him.
 
“I’m not just your girlfriend, Chris. I work hard on my content just like you.” You say defensively. The decision to even begin posting was his idea so you can’t believe how unsupported you feel.
“And I'm so proud of you. You know I am.” He says with sincerity, bringing a hand to his chest. “But you aren’t..." His sentence trails off and he gives you an uncomfortable look.
“What?” You challenge, knowing exactly where this is going. “Say it. Tell me how little I matter since I haven’t hit the right numbers yet.”
He rolls his eyes and looks up at the ceiling. “It’s business. And they asked for people with reach. What did you want me to do?”
“Fight for me, Chris. That’s what I expected you to do.” You turn and head over to your dresser, snatching out your favorite oversized t-shirt and changing quickly.
Chris leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, watching you intensely until you finally face him with a scowl. “Stop following me.”
“I just can’t believe this is how you want to end this night. Why can’t you celebrate this win with me?” He asks, annoyance coating his tone. 
“Go celebrate with Brooke. You two looked comfy today.” You suggest as you pass him to head into the bathroom.
Behind you, he barks out a laugh of disbelief before whispering something under his breath. You don’t even bother asking him to speak up, grabbing your makeup remover instead.
“So what’s that supposed to mean, huh? You're gonna start throwing accusations at me now?” He sounds absolutely over the conversation but won’t walk away to cool off. It’s a flaw you have in common.
“Just saying Addison has twice the followers as her but somehow you put her centerstage. I mean, I thought this was a numbers game.” You say, refusing to look over at him as you lather your face wash.
If you’re being completely honest, it’s not like you actually believe Chris would ever cheat on you. One thing Chris has always been is loyal to a fault. But right now you're itching for a reaction. No matter how you have to get it.��
“You have to be fucking kidding.” He says, reacting exactly like you expected him to. “When the fuck would I be cheating on you?” 
“How am I supposed to know? People make time for what’s important to them.” You say, letting your voice take on a nonchalant tone as you pat your face dry.
“That’s so fucking stupid and you know it. Look, I’m sorry you’re not where you want to be in your career but don’t take it out on me.” He grinds out, his voice thick with distaste.
You spin to face him, your eyebrows high. There it is. At least he finally said it. “Wow, Chris. Tell me how you really feel.”
“Y/N.” He says, rubbing his eyes roughly. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Do you think I could buy a shoutout, Mr. Six Mill? Only if you have time, of course.” You drawl, pressing your hands together into a begging gesture.
“Tell me what you want to hear, baby. Tell me what I need to say to end this conversation.” He says, stepping toward you but you take a step back instead, leaning against the sink. 
“How about an apology? How about recognizing that I worked hard on this launch too and deserved to be a part of it? Anything except this condescending bullshit.”
He drops to his knees dramatically, looking up at you with a faux pleading look on his face. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. Please forgive me.”
You shake your head and curl your lip up in disgust. “Yeah. ‘Cause everything’s a joke, right?”
Chris blows out a huff of irritation and stands up, reaching out to wrap his arms around you and spinning you around to face the mirror. He presses himself into your back and meets your eye in the reflection as he runs his hands up and down your body. “Aren’t you tired of arguing yet?”
Your gaze drops to his hands, watching as he slowly and methodically slides up your oversized t-shirt and rubs teasingly at your inner thighs.
"You know I love you." He whispers, his grip tightening as he trails higher, grazing your heat before dipping his hands back down.
“Do you?” You question childishly, heat flooding your body as his hands travel your skin. He leans in close, the cool breath of his words sending a shiver down your spine. “Let me prove how much.”
Part of you wants to snatch away from him and refuse to reward his arrogance. But there is something so erotic about the way his eyes stay locked on yours as he moves in closer to where you need him most. Without your permission your body melts into his, the muscle memory from every other time he’s made you feel this way activating naturally. 
You turn your head to look at him full-on instead of the reflection, the slight flush on his face from the arguing turning you on even more. “Nah. Prove how much you need me.”
If Chris is at all surprised by your demand, he doesn’t show it. He just walks you closer to the sink and spins you around by the waist to face him. His blue eyes are so coated with lust and frustration they seem almost brown under the harsh bathroom lighting.
He lifts you onto the counter, pausing only for the barest of seconds before crashing his lips against yours. The sudden movement pushes the back of your head into the mirror but you barely feel it over the heat and pressure of his kiss. 
His hand travels under your shirt, his fingertips grazing your nipple with a frustratingly delicate touch that has you groaning into his mouth. You pull away, drawing a shudder out of him when you lightly nip his bottom lip as you do. 
“Stop wasting my time.” You demand, your hands fiddling with the bottom of his shirt in a hint for him to take it off. 
He does with a roll of his eyes before he comes back, placing a firm hand on the back of your neck and bringing you closer. “You can drop the attitude now. You know you want this just as much as I do.”
Pain flashes through you again briefly as you consider the possibility that this is the only thing you two will ever agree on wanting but you push it down and lean in to run a tongue over his collarbone. “Shut up and prove it like you said you would.”
A smirk grows across his face before he nods and kneels down slowly, pushing open your legs and roughly snatching off your thin underwear. Pushing your legs open wider, he buries his face in your inner thighs and peppers lingering kisses on them as he trails closer to your heat.  
When he finally reaches it, it’s clear he’s not done taking his time as he runs his tongue through your folds purposefully avoiding where you want him most. You push at his shoulders in annoyance and he chuckles darkly, only making your wetness grow despite yourself.
The first kiss he places on your clit is slow and shallow before he leans back to find your eyes. “I always forget how fucking pretty you are.” He says as he smooths a thumb over you before diving back in with a new urgency.
There’s reverence in the way his tongue circles your clit, the movements somehow both precise and desperate. Before you even realize what you’re doing, you find yourself grinding your hips up to chase your pleasure, pathetic whimpers falling from your lips.
You don’t need to glance down to feel his eyes on you, baby blue and laser-focused as he peers up to gauge your reaction, alternating expertly between sucking and flicking his tongue. But instead of giving him the reaction he wants, you press your fist into your mouth and work to keep your face a mask. You’re determined to grant him as little praise as possible, leftover anger spurring on your pettiness. 
Smiling against your core at the challenge, he readjusts his hold on you, slinging one of your legs lazily onto his shoulder before locking his arms around your thighs to keep you still. He pulls fully away and you finally snap your eyes to his, a protest on the tip of your tongue.
“I can do this all night and still make sure you never come. Stop playing with me.” His voice is like velvet as he warns you, not even pausing for your response before he buries himself back in. He taps your leg, signaling for you to hold it before he readjusts to add his fingers, swirling them around teasingly before pumping them inside to stretch you out.
All of your pride flies out the window as he fucks into you with his fingers, finding your g spot easily and caressing it. Flinging your head from side to side and calling his name wildly, you feel a familiar pressure building inside of you. “Please, Chris.” You beg as you tangle your hands into his hair.
His pace only increases when he realizes you are close, his moans against your clit sending vibrations through your body and driving you even crazier. You tug his hair lightly as your body tightens and grind your hips against his fingers to ride out your orgasm. 
Chris pauses and removes his fingers slowly before placing one last kiss on your throbbing heat. He comes up with his breathing unsteady and a look of pure triumph on his face as he sucks his fingers into his mouth. 
Your legs are still trembling slightly as you slide off of the counter and pull his face down to yours. This kiss feels different, like coming home, and you can tell he feels the same. He kisses you back like he loves you like the taste of you is air and he’s suffocating. 
It’s been a while since you two were desperate enough to leave marks on each other’s skin but he does tonight. And you let him without a single thought to the effort of covering them up, too focused on his tongue working over the sweet spots of your neck.
You reach down fumbling with his belt impatiently as your breathing goes ragged, and free his hardened length, stroking it slowly.
His lips freeze on your throat as he thrusts into your hand before he yanks away and spins you back around, pressing his palm into your back and kicking your feet apart to give him access.
You feel his tip nudge against your entrance, slipping down further to tease your clit briefly, your only warning before he slides inside of you. A cry tears out of you as he rolls his hips into yours, bottoming out. 
You’re still soaked from your orgasm but as he stretches you out around him, you feel yourself coat him even more and he groans. “My pretty girl. Best fucking feeling in the world.” He pushes your shirt further up your back, his fingertips trailing your spine lightly as he continues to thrust into you.
Squirming with a need for him to go faster, you push your hips up to meet his, forcing him deeper and making you both curse. He takes the hint, wrapping his hand tightly around your shirt for leverage before setting a brutal rough pace.
Your vision starts to blur so you close them as you try to hold on to the counter for stability. With your eyes squeezed tightly closed, it’s almost easy to pretend the tears swelling up are from the intensity of the moment and not from everything that came before. 
Because it’s nothing if not intense, your stomach pressing into the sink as he slams inside of you roughly. His free hand grips the counter so hard his knuckles turn white and he keeps up his insane pace. His name slips from your mouth as a moan, seeming to spur him on as he increases his tempo even more.
“That’s right, baby. What’s my name?” The sound of his voice barely breaks through your fucked out trance and you lift your head to see him through the mirror. 
The sight of him almost pushes you right over the edge immediately and you watch him in a sort of fascination. The way his muscles strain with his movement, his slightly open mouth before he bites down on his bottom lip. But it’s the wink he throws you when he notices you watching that has you contracting around him for the second time tonight.
This orgasm tears through you like a wave and you lose all control as Chris fucks you through it, never missing a stroke. If you had it in you to be embarrassed right now, you would be mortified at the things you say at this moment. Making promises, calling him names you never thought you’d utter, telling him exactly who you belong to.
When you come down, Chris’ pace slows and he pulls you up to face him. He watches you tenderly before he lifts the shirt from over your head and kisses you deeply.
He leads you to your bedroom and lays you down at the center of the bed, climbing on top of you slowly.
He enters you again with a gasp and you bring your mouth up to his to swallow it, his hand traveling up to lightly circle your neck. You moan in contentment and he makes a sound of approval from the back of his throat as he begins to thrust.
His strokes are slow and as deep as he can make them, his hands roaming your body as his tongue explores your mouth. There’s emotion laced in every snap of his hip and you know him well enough to understand every message. I love you. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. 
Pleasure coils around you as his thumb finds your clit and circles it, coaxing you closer to the finish line as he drops his head near your ear. His hips stuttering tell you he’s close and you bring your mouth up to his ear to whisper. “Come for me.” 
He groans loudly in response, fighting not to lose control yet. “You first.”
“I already did!” 
“I don’t care. Give me one more.” 
At his words, he pulls himself up and angles himself deeper, finding your g spot and plowing into it mercilessly. You drag your nails down his back, yours arching up off the bed. “Chris, I can’t.” 
He shushes you softly, his lips claiming yours again as he continues to push into you. Ultimately it’s his muffled moan of “fuck” against your mouth that sends you over the edge, your face screwed up from an erotic mix of ecstasy and exhaustion.
You know you can’t take much more but Chris follows right behind you, dropping his head on your shoulder and moaning your name into it.
You lay there breathing heavily, skin to skin, for a while before you tap his back and he slides out of you. Awkwardness settles between you, so thick you’re not sure what to do with it so you stand wordlessly and head for a shower.
Your thoughts race as you scrub the remnants of him off your skin. The words you threw back and forth play on repeat in your brain as you wonder how to fix what’s between you before it’s too late.
The bathroom door opens and you watch through the streamy glass as Chris settles on the counter. The same counter he had you bent over not long ago. 
You step out of the shower and grab your robe, all the while avoiding his eye contact. This is the part you hate the most. The part that never ends. Because neither of you knows how to force it to end. 
He clears his throat, gesturing for you to come to him when you finally meet his eyes. Once you are standing between his legs, he pushes your wet hair out of your face gently as he studies your face. “You know how much you mean to me, don’t you?”
The nod you give is reluctant and slow. It’s never been a question of if Chris loves you. Just a question of whether he appreciates you. 
But he continues this time, his eyes holding a fierce sort of intensity. “I’d give this all up for us if I had to. My whole platform if it means I can wake up next to you.” 
Your breath hitches at this and you feel the tears threatening to fall so you bury your face in his shoulder, letting him pull your body into his. 
And you hope. Hope that his words are more than just words. Hope that you’re not too young to keep each other from slipping between your fingers.
A/N: thanks so much for reading my loves. don't forget to head over to my girl @luv4kozume's page in exactly one hour for her new matt smut. 🗣️
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Ok, I'm gonna be REAL controversial for a second:
Saying "incest and underage fics are ok because it's usually CSA survivors recontextualizing/processing their own experience" is just purity culture lite. It's like saying "Birth control should be legal because some people use it for non-birth control related purposes" or "abortion needs to be legal because women can die without it."
Yes, these are TRUE and IMPORTANT things. But kind of... not the point?
Kind of giving way to the antis, the puritanical right, the misogynists who just want to control women (because you KNOW they aren't thinking about trans men or nonbinary people when they legislate abortion).
Lemme see if I can explain: by saying "look at this VALID and IMPORTANT reason someone might have for doing the thing you don't like," you are saying that there are invalid reasons for it. That some people shouldn't do it.
You are saying that it is objectively wrong, and that exceptions must be made for it to be okay. And putting aside the fact that NO ONE should have to disclose their personal trauma for judgement, that no one should have to disclose their personal medical history to a judge or legislator before receiving treatment... you are conceding the point.
I refuse to concede anything on this.
I like fucked up fic, I like being able to fuck without getting pregnant, I like that if my birth control fails I can still make a choice about whether or not I want to be pregnant and give birth. I WILL NOT go into my reasons on ANY of this. Because YOU do not have a right to that information, and I am also protecting the privacy of everyone else who does not want to share their reasons.
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