#can you tell im just fucking tired of white people?

[newsfromstolenland]

it's becoming increasingly obvious that white people just can't bring themselves to care about people of colour

it's not like it's anything new, or anything I didn't already know, but white so-called leftists who have spent years telling us that they're not like those white people are just showing their true colours right now. and that true colour is white.

you don't care about palestine. or sudan. or congo. you don't care about muslims or Indigenous people or black people. you think everyone in china or north korea is evil or stupid and brainwashed. you think voting for one racist white man instead of another is necessary and yell at people of colour for not wanting to do that. you think rap music is scary and violent. you think people need to shut up about racism and focus on homophobia instead. you think brown people all hate gays. you think aave is funny. you think colonial states can be good if they're just run by the right kind of colonist. talking about racism and genocide is just too 'tiring' for you. you call black people who say they don't want to vote for biden psyops. you don't think of queer people of colour as part of the lgbt+ community. you only care about what happens in western countries.

you don't care about us.

so what exactly is it that separates you from the conservatives that you claim to be better than?

our lives aren't important to you. our rights aren't a worthwhile cause. what is a worthwhile cause? one that impacts white people, of course!

it's infuriating and exhausting, listening to you rattle off all the ways that you're marginalized to prove you're not racist, while you ignore and talk over people of colour

you don't know what racism is like. you might know what homophobia is like, or transphobia, or misogyny, or ableism, but that doesn't mean you understand. you will never understand. so the least you can do is listen to us. or at the very least, leave us the fuck alone.

#can you tell im just fucking tired of white people? #mine #racism

[nonuggetshere]

WHAT HAPPENS AFTER UR COMIC I NEED TO KNOW

OK OK SO,

Honestly, if he tried That he'd be immediately gutpunched by Herrah who was standing Right There. It's not like he was the only one that saw this happen.

Immediately after grabbing the blade, there's a moment of horrible silence where everybody's still, and then a second later PV gets up, turns on their heel and runs out of the throne room. Everybody's standing there in complete shock of what just happened, before the entire room erupts into a basically a giant screaming match.

Pale King is frozen on the spot up until Herrah grabs him by the collar and demands answers from him. The only reason they agreed to this was because he reassured them the vessel was hollow. Did he know of this? Was he tricking them all this time?

This snaps him out of it and he of course immediately defends himself and then tries to calm the room down by reassuring them that it was just a little...hiccup. The vessel was taught and ordered to protect themself, they must have seen the blade as dangerous and reacted as ordered, that's all! He'll just send the guards to find them and the ceremony can continue without a hitch. Everything was fine.

It was a lie. Of course, it was a lie. He knew that, everybody knew that. They were alive and everybody saw it, but they were also their only hope. And he would much rather not have to deal with a panicking, rioting crowd when his entire world was just shattered into little pieces in the span of a few seconds and he's this 👌 close to having a complete mental breakdown.

While nobody's looking, Hornet sneaks out and brings her sibling back, comforting them and reassuring them. She convinces them to return and come clean, to drop this entire charade.

So, they do. They step back into the throne room, their sister by their side, and it's eerily quiet. Finally, after what feels like forever, Pale King orders them to come up to the throne.

They didn't budge. He orders them again. After a moment of hesitation, they shake their head and step back.

Maybe he actually deluded himself into believing the lie he told previously, just to keep it together. Just to not break down. And now, the truth once again slaps him right in the face and all these emotions he can no longer keep down bubble up to the surface and before he can stop himself or rationalise them, he directs them at the nearest most convenient target; PV.

He storms up to them, yelling at them, and they get so scared they fall back in their attempt to backtrack. He calls them a traitor and a deceiver, says he hopes they're happy and tells them to get out of his face.

They don't need to be told twice and immediately run off again, and the moment they're gone the throne room erupts into screaming and loud chatter again. Eventually, after hours, everybody slowly filters out and it's just him, his queen, his knights and the dreamers. He wants to discuss the next course of action, but before he can speak Hornet storms over and slaps him so hard he falls over and her claws cut his cheek open. He's never seen hatred and anger so vicious in a child'a eyes before as she glares at him right before storming off.

He naturally feels crushing and immediate guilt and regret for his actions and for what he said, especially when PV doesn't return to their bedroom that night. Or the next.

He cries that night like he's never cried before. Cries so hard he pukes and can barely keep himself together.

They return after two weeks. Just show up back at the palace, and...things just go back to semi-normal. Except everybody's weird around them now. The knights feel extremely guilty and can't even look them in the eyes. Their parents avoid them completely. Some other members of the court and the staff members that were in the known keep giving them nasty looks.

They keep to themself now, it's easier that way. They keep acting...well, not fully hollow, they no longer blindly follow orders and clearly make choices for themself, but... They act emotionless. Almost as if they were hollow. Because acting this way feels familiar, it feels safe. And when their entire world was just spun upside down familiar and safe is all they want to feel.

Their father, naturally, immediately cancelled the vessel plan and dove straight into finding other solutions, working himself to the bone just like he did before the vessel plan. Meanwhile, he put them on guard duty indefinitely. While keeping them as close as before was too painful, even looking at them was too painful, he didn't want to throw them aside. He wanted to know that they were home and they were safe. So, he gave them a job and started paying them like any other staff member, though as degrading as that job felt.

As a side note, I need y'all to know that PK and WL here were good...ish parents. As good as the circumstances allowed them to be. Because despite everything, they loved them, and even though they shouldn't have they had a soft spot for that kinda-their-child-but-not-really-but-actually-yes-really.

White Lady would brush and braid their hair and play dress up with them, even when they were an adult (and they loved spending time with her as she picked pretty outfits for them to wear). Pale King would carry them as a child and gently pet their head, and spend lazy quiet mornings with them, chatting to them about all kinds of stuff over his morning cup of coffee. And on the day of their sealing, he held them in his arms and cried, mourning the baby he thought dead all over again, wishing things could have been different.

And what's funny, he didn't even want to have children at first. Like, ever. But when he laid his eyes on that kid on the platform and took their little hand into his own for the first time...the only other time that he felt that much love for somebody was when he held Hornet for the first time.

Because, one, PV deserves to be loved and all the good things. And two, I am a very big fan of the idea that they were loved. They were somebody who shouldn't have been loved, but despite everything people still loved them so deeply, and the state of their ruined kingdom is the tangible proof of that. I just love this sort of soft tragedy.

#asks #faaf au #Hi yes I lied I had to post this before j went to sleep #I love this au I am rotating it in my head 24/7 #Very happy to answer any more questions you may know I put So Much Thought about PV's relationship with different people on this au #Also they eventually do make up with their parents but it. Takes YEARS. For pretty damn good reasons I mean DAMN #99% of the pv fanart I draw is of this au btw #The dress posts? Yeah. This au baybeee #Same with Ghost getting fucking bucketed #If PV has butterfly eyelashes and white lines on shoulders. That's this AU #Good childhood au? Yeah just a variant of this AU where they find out very early on #I Am Very Nornal About This AU #You may have* CAN YOU TELL IM TIRED

[campirebites]

besties good news for once

I made an appointment with my rheumatologist Dr SillyName (god I wish I could just doxx him (im kidding) bc his name is so silly I adore him what do you mean you have a s and a c next to eachother im dyslexic how do you say that) and I’m going to talk to him about my mobility decreasing and how much pain I’m in every day and bring up ring splints and wheelchairs with him because he’s the first doctor who ever believed me when I told them I was in pain and he’s the one who diagnosed me with my hEDS and if he tells me I don’t qualify for a wheelchair at least i know it’s coming from a doctor who cares, understands, and wouldn’t lie to me

#camshitposts #taking??? care of??? myself??? woag #today was really hard and I did it #I even managed to be sickly sweet to customers #except like one lady who came in and just dumped a pile of receipts on my counter and was like #I wanna return all this I don’t know what’s on what #bitch are you fucking kidding me right now #and her receipts were expired so I had to find each item by sku on her receipt to manually input the price of the item #and my system can only do one receipt per return #nobody tell her I have an override code and could have done it but if ur gonna make it painful I’m gonna make it painful bitch #also it all would’ve gone back to her card instead of a store return card and I’m a petty fucking bitch #for some reason there’s no way even with an override code to put something on a store return card unless the system tells you to put it on #one it makes literally zero sense if I have to do the return through the scan aide I should be able to be like no this receipt is from #6 months ago store return card only. nice people get it on their debits or cash tho cuz I’m a bitch like that #bc it’s all rich white moms it’s never normal people #anyway this turned into a work rant bc today was too fucking much #anyway fingies crossed Dr G has my back 🤞🏻 #im so tired of everythign dislocating I just relocated my thumb I’ve relocated my knees countless times today #my ankles are in braces bc I wouldn’t have been able to walk or stand today otherwise #this made me body check which made me realize my shoulder was subluxed which caused a chain reaction that healed me #my body is so broken Jesus Christ #I’m so tired #im so tired of hurting

[stuniolvs]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 ~ christopher sturniolo

summary.) chris reads bad comments about himself and you try to figure out what’s wrong.

warnings.) crying, chris being sad,

chris’ eyes watered as his eyes read over the words on his screen.

he was scrolling through the comments on his podcast liking the positive and funny ones, when he stumbled across the not-so-positive ones. now normally chris doesn't read them but he had decided to and it was a bad idea.

has anyone noticed chris is gaining weight?

god chris is so loud its so grading

i dont know how anyone stands chris he’s so loud and unbearable.

as chris read the last one more tears rolled down his face. he immediately thought to his girlfriend, did she think he was annoying?

maybe he should just tone it down. he thought as he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

when he woke up in the morning he turned on his phone and saw a text from you

ill be over in and hour baby 💕

okay see you soon

you furrowed your brows at chris’ dry response. he hadn’t answered your texts last night and now a dry response in the morning? something was definitely up.

as you drove over to chris’ you just enter the door seeing chris and his brothers laying on the couch watching a movie in the background while matt and nick argue about something on the couch.

you glance over at chris and see him not including anything in the conversation and staring at his phone.

“chris! hes in the wrong! right?” nick yells, gesturing with his hands as he speaks.

“sure” chris mutters.

you’re surprised at chris’ response and the fact that nobody has noticed your presence.

“hi baby,” you walk over to chris seeing a beanie on his head and a white blanket draped over his lap.

“hey” he murmurs. “are you okay?” you ask.

chris feels his throat burn at your question. “yep im fine, jus’ tired” he sniffles. “okay,” you whisper laying your head on his shoulder.

a couple hours later you, matt, and nick are talking and chris still hasn’t contributed anything to the conversation.

you give nick a look and look down at chris, then back up at him. when nick shrugs his shoulders you tug chris’ hand “hmm?” he asks.

“c’mon” you tell him still tugging his hand to his room.

“come on lets lay down baby.” you order him and pull him onto your chest.

“okay chris, what’s wrong?”

the second the words leave your mouth tears fill his eyes. “do you think im annoying?” he asks voice breaking. your heart breaks sheeting the boy in front of you. “no chris, why would you say something like that?” you reply

chris hesitates, “there were comments about me” he mumbles passing you his phone.

as your eyes skim over the comments displayed on his phone your eyes tear up. how could people be so rude? “oh baby” you whisper pulling him into your chest, kissing his beanie-covered head.

“chris. you are not annoying, not one bit. you’re my favorite person to be around and i love you so much. also baby you’re fine as fuck so don’t listen to anything they say. you’re the farthest thing from annoying chris. those people who are saying those things are stupid.” you’re cut off by a sob. “baby,” you say worriedly pulling his head up to see tears running down his pink cheeks. “i love you so much baby” he whispers his voice soft and crackly. “i love you more chris and don’t ever believe what they say again m’kay?” he hums in response. you lean in to his lips catching them in a soft kiss. he kisses back it lasts for a couple minutes untill chris pulls away. “im hot.” he pants pulling his black sweatshirt over his head as ripping his beanie off “yes the fuck you are” you mumble under your breath chris blushes and hides his head in the crook of your neck he presses against you so you can feel the heat radiating off his cheeks.

“i love you sweet boy” you whisper

“i love you more baby.”

#sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets imagines #sturniolo triplets imagine #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

[90ekz]

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

#jean kirschtein fluff #jean kirschtein scenarios #jean kirschtein x reader #jean smut #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #jean kirschtein smut #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschtein imagine #jean x black reader #jean kirschtein headcanons #jean kirschtien #aot x you #aot x black y/n #aot x female reader #aot imagines #aot smut #syno’s picks 💌 #i haven’t written abt him in so long thank you anon #curly hair jean supremacy !!!

[chrollohearttags]

oh nufffinnnn just thinking bout eren telling reader to “stop running” and to “move her hand”

why? Whyyyy would y’all do this to meeeee? 😫 knees just buckled and everything (and not just because one of them is out of place)

content warning/themes: bsf eren bc im obsessed now, black fem reader (plus size descriptors) missionary, mentions of nudes, back scratching, hair pulling, daddy’s used, pet names (pretty girl, mama) creaming, full nelson

“ ‘Ren!—Eren, okaaayy! Ooh, you win!”

crying out in a fussy huff as your once best friend turned lover hovered the entirety of his six foot three slender frame towered over yours. A firm grip from both hands keeping your feet pent back near your head and your legs wide open..perfect for him to fuck you as he saw fit. How exactly had you landed yourself in such a position? Well..

“I know. I always do, baby. So I don’t know why you play like I can’t handle your fine ass..talking about ‘you don’t even know what to do with me’…out ‘your fucking mind. And I told you to stop tryna’ run because you’re not going anywhere. Take this fucking dick like a good girl. You can do that, can’t you?”

once again, silly banter ensued between you two and he yet again, had to prove you wrong. It wasn’t long after he had exited basketball practice and an intense workout; still pent up with energy and plenty of arousal..especially after you sent him some rather salacious messages. The two of you weren’t certain if you were ready to put a label on things but you were damn sure having a ball engaging in activities that couples would. Like calling one another pet names, even around other people. This time, he just so happened to be changing in front of his two closest homeboys when you FaceTimed…fresh out the shower, wrapped in a towel and looking good as fuck! The thoughts that ran through his head were not ones that he should have around other people. He had to all but restrain himself from getting hard right there in that locker room. And you didn’t make matters worse when he got to his car and you had sent him nudes. “I’m at practice right now, mama, I gotta call you back.” Videos of you playing with that pretty pussy, telling him to come stretch you out instead. Taunting him with mentions of being too tired to handle you. Watching cream drip all down those fingers..and the sound of wetness while that sexy voice moaned his name and called him daddy? You had to pay for that! So he cleared up any confusion when he stopped by your apartment, keys still in hand when you strutted out in nothing more than an anklet, white painted toes and a bonnet. Dropping to your knees to devour his dick where he stood. Spitting, slurping and sucking him off as if you lacked a gag reflex. He couldn’t believe how nasty you got for him..it was treatment he could get used to! Which in turn, swiftly got you hoisted up in the air and fucked into oblivion, right there in that living room. Only now, he was getting his lick back for your earlier commentary.

“You so deep in this fucking pussy, daddy…I—I’m sorrryyy.”

attempting to tap at his abs and push him away.. to which he’d only laugh, slapping it out of the way with minimal force because you were so depleted. He’d slow down his thrusts just a tad because maybe he had been fucking your shit up. But you weren’t done yet, he was sure and neither was he. You were going to eat your words. Slowly circling that clit with his thumb pad, he’d coo to you with the other palm on your cheek, finally releasing the grip on your legs..

“Yeah? You’re sorry? Afraid I can’t accept that, pretty girl…imma need you to come for me at least two more times before I can forgive you..”

it was in that moment that you realized what type of demon you were truly messing with! Leaning down, he’d spit into your slippery folds and keep pumping that cock in and out. “Oh my God, I can’t stand youuuu..shit!” Laughing as you glared up at one another, laughing and enjoying the moment. But you weren’t getting let off of the hook so easily!

“And move that hand, you’re not slick..you’re getting all this dick. Show me you can handle it.”

#cherry’s asks 🍒 #aot x black reader #black reader smut #black fem reader #I tried to be normal about this man but I failed #eren x black fem!reader #eren x chubby reader #eren x reader #eren x y/n #aot college au #aot au #black reader #eren smut #black fanfiction #snk anime #snk au #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger headcanons #eren jaeger x black reader #eren headcanons #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren jaeger fic #eren aot #eren au #eren jeager x reader #aot eren #cw smut #cw sex mention #cw suggestive

[mcondance]

listen…hear me out…i’m imagining stu falling for a real sweet girl but this girl is like yuck i know your reputation playboy and since he’s obsessed with the chase he’s really gunning for it maybe even calling her as ghostface, getting her scared just so stu can swoop in and be like awh poor baby here i’ll keep you safe <3 big mean ghostface can’t get ya when im around

we should form a collaboration. (this got so long anon. i blame you. 17+) this idea has my brain turning like it gets him going so bad to scare you and then be able to come back and be your savior. it appeases the side of him that likes the chase, and the side of him that likes being in control. i think they’re both linked to his need for dominance and his sadistic nature so this is a win win for him.

you know him through sidney’s boyfriend billy, but you’ve never said more than a couple of words to each other outside of the friend group. aware of his reputation, your answer to his question is easy.

you tell him no, that you wouldn’t touch him with a 3-and-a-half foot pole. (he responds in typical stu fashion. he slaps a hand over his chest, expressing how hurt he is by your rejection, a knowing smile etching across his face.)

and so begins the chase. you turn him down over and over again, inviting sidney to the dates he asks you on, saying that the movie he wants to see with you just isn’t your taste— even if he knows he heard you talking to sid about how you wanted to see it just the week before, stupid little excuses to avoid everything he asks you.

he doesn’t mind. your rejections of his advances let him feel the way he does when he’s shrouded in that fearful black cloak, coming up with more and more ways to get you.

he keeps his distance— ghostface, that is. stu doesn’t want to scare you yet. with occasional phone calls that he directs to more people than just you, he lets you off easy, makes it seem like it’s just random.

but he’s getting a little anxious, and he’s always been impatient. he wants you.

billy and sidney are out of town for the weekend. and you’re terrified, more and more people close to you have been turning up dead. you resort to asking stu to stay with you for the weekend.

if he gets you to fuck him while he’s “protecting” you from ghostface? god he’d feel so good. he never forgets his alter ego, the slasher that terrifies your sleepy little town, but playing as your loving, caring little “friend” is fun too. he thinks you’re kinda stupid, to let him stay over at your house under the guise of keeping you safe.

you’d changed into your house clothes when you both got to your house, telling him not to touch anything while you were gone. when you came out he was in a t shirt and shorts, and he looked awfully good.

you’d let him have some of your snacks, throwing a bag of hot chips at him and perching on the other end of the living room sofa. you’d turned on some long ass video essay, and he actually found it sort of interesting, quizzing you on what certain stuff meant before you got tired and wanted to sleep.

he thinks, maybe you do have a thing for him. why else would you let a freak like him stay over? whatever the case may be, he’s here. in your pretty pink and white bedroom, he almost scoffs at the softness of it all.

“‘s cute.”

“yeah. i put blankets and shit on the couch. you sleep there.”

his lanky body barely fits on the small chair, but he knows he won’t be there too long, so he doesn’t complain.

the blanket you gave him smells like you, and he basks in it. your room is silent, for a while. in the darkness, your mind gets to you and you’re so scared even with stu right there.

“stu,” you whisper.

“yeah?”

“can you come sleep over here? i’m scared.”

there it is.

“yeah, ‘f course.” he feigns genuine sympathy, though you’re smarter than that and no matter how hard he tries, there’s always a sliver of depravity peeking through his words.

you scoot from the middle of your bed to the one side, lifting the covers up to let stu take the other side. too terrified to even get smart with him, you welcome him into your bed.

what a terrible mistake you’ve made.

in the light streaming through your windows, he looks gorgeous, blue eyes gazing softly at your worried expression.

“hey,” he starts, reaching out to rest his hand on your shoulder. you don’t shrink away. you’re frozen. “i got you. promise i’ll keep you safe.”

he’s full of shit. but it works.

“can you just. . just hold me. don’t make it weird.” you scoot closer to him.

“i won’t. come ‘ere.”

shifting, you move until your back is pressed to his front. he wraps his arms around you, cradling you and your fragile psyche in the palm of his hand.

“d’you think he’ll try and come for me?” you ask him.

“i dunno. but i promise i’ll do everything i can t’keep you safe.”

god, he impresses himself sometimes.

“thank you.” you whisper, the words stuck in your throat.

“no problem.” you can feel him looking at you, can see him out of the corner of your eye.

with his arms wrapped around you, all the feelings you’ve gained for him over the past weeks come to a head. he’s warm behind you, and he’s holding you just tight enough.

you twist around to where you can see him, and if you were standing your knees would have buckled from his gaze.

“if i let you kiss me, would you promise not to make it weird?”

“promise.”

“okay,” you breathe. and you kiss him.

what a terrible, terrible mistake you’ve made.

it all goes so fast from there. one kiss turns into many and you’re turning around so you can face him all the way.

he’s got you on your back and his hand down your shorts before you know it. his lithe fingers toy with you, his mouth swallows every single one of your sounds, his body provides you comfort, a distraction from the murderer desecrating your safe town.

you come for him. you make a mess on his fingers, the ones he knows are soaked with blood. he could almost shout from how elated he is to have you wrapped around his fingers.

over you he moves, pulled by his collar on top of you and to your lips again. he wants to be smug about it, to note the lack of 3-and-a-half feet between you two, but he doesn’t.

instead, he kisses you like a normal boy would kiss a girl he liked. instead, he professes his protection when you make him promise again.

instead, he kisses you through the stretch of him entering you. “‘s okay, you got it. doin’ so good.” he could blow his load now, at the sight of you in pain and pleasure, at the sound of your hisses and deep breathes.

he slides home. inches deep inside you and even farther in your mind, he fucks both. he’s done this before, fucked a girl in a show of devotion that she’ll fawn over, a false bridge of vulnerability that he inwardly laughs at. it brings him satisfaction he can only get one other way.

you feel safe. safe as he pushes his hips against yours, his cock kissing and sliding against every electric spot inside you. his hand is warm on your cheek, cupping your face and the other is firm on your hip. you whine with each rock into you, body tingling, ears prickling as he groans in your ear. sounds he’s only ever heard on the other end of the phone.

with slow, calculated moves he makes you come again, and god it feels good. in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed, cause all it took was being afraid for your life and stu got you where you know he wanted you.

but stu’s been in this situation enough times to know what comes next, and how to prevent it. it’s easy, kissing you before you have the chance to keep thinking and fucking you to another orgasm.

it happens again the next night. battered and paranoid, you’re being played into his arms and you don’t even know it. you’re embarrassed about it, but in your clouded mind it feels genuine. it feels like stu really cares. at first it didn’t, but now that he’s still coming around even after he got you in bed, maybe he does care.

sidney comes home and stu goes back to his and billy's place. you think you can calm down with sidney back and stu and billy coming over occasionally. you let stu stay the night in your room sometimes, and he gets what he wants from you again.

your neighbor's killed. what the fuck, when will this end? this time, stu comes over, and he stays. you can't sleep a night without him. you think you're being targeted. the only time you feel peace is when stu's fucking your mind away. you’re reliant on him. in his absence all you feel is fear.

the phone calls continue, and stu’s there to answer them, telling whoever’s on the other end to go fuck themself. again, he plays you into his arms. “don’t think about him. think about me.” he tells you, guiding your face from the phone beside your bed to his, and he lets you close the gap. he likes letting you make the first move. it fills him with pride at his psychotic deception, the way he’s turned you into exactly what you said you’d never be.

he thinks about sneaking out to don the cloak, showing up at your doorstep just to see the horror in your eyes. he resigns to dialing your number when you’re out, calling you and listening to your voice as you realize who’s on the other line. he follows you out sometimes and watches your paranoid moves, blood coursing hot through his body every time you look over your shoulder.

at your house, he comforts you when you crumple into his arms, suggests that maybe, you shouldn’t go anywhere without him. you accept.

god, what have you become. if you’re not full of stu then you’re full of terror, and he takes pleasure being the bearer of both of these things. you belong to him, your thoughts, your body, your feelings, it all belongs to him.

he loves to hear you go over his and billy’s crimes over and over again, lives for the disgust and fear in your voice when you recount the murders. he could probably get off to it, to your sad little words. and at night, he revels in being the only one that can make you feel okay.

you’ve become the perfect victim, and he didn’t even have to flash his knife. maybe he’ll keep you around.

#this was so hot #love u nonny #stu macher smut #stu matcher x reader #stu macher x you #stu macher x black!reader #stu macher x black reader #scream 1996 smut #scream smut #stu smut #[manipulative stu]

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Mercs x gn reader who’s blind? They’re not a fighter or something but they help around keeping the base in check or something, they have really good hearing.

Can tell the guys apart from their footsteps, even catching Spy off guard when they noticed him sneaking about.

One thing they want to familiarize with the Mercs are their face shapes. They may not see them with their eyes but they picture them to match their voices. GN Reader adores being around these noisy men.

TF2 Mercs with a blind reader (Most notably Spy..)

Warning: Brainless imbeciles

EDIT: I MISREAD THIS ASK IM SORRY THE BLIND READER IS A MERC AAAAAAA

Scout:

-He is wracked at first with the misinformation surrounding blindness. At first, he thinks your world is completely dark. Night-time type of darkness and you have no ways of seeing his shape whatsoever. Which might be half true for some of you, but imagine his awe when you look directly at him after being spoken to. You could hear this idiot nagging from a mile away.

- “Wait, so do you know i’m white?” “I’m blind, Scout. Not stupid.”

- He’s clearly been unsocialized to those with vision impairment. It shows in his borderline stupid behavior. Waves his bat in front of your face and then winces when you angrily grab it and yank it away from him. Thats when he discovers that blind people typically don’t enjoy that. Gee, you learn something new everyday!

- Runs really fast by you on the battlefield and your face follows the exact direction from where he came from to where he was going. He saw this for a split second and needless to say, he envies your heightened hearing. You had a mildly interested expression the entire time. As if trying to discern if that was an enemy scout or not. Hmm, no. It’s definitely your scout. Nobody else uses that pretentious ass expensive cologne from tuefort’s strip mall. You wanted to gag.

- You could hear him easier than any other merc. His footsteps were simply too evident and easy to identify due to the rhythmic fast-pace. Like an annoying fly buzzing past your ear. (In all honesty, you’re not too far off.) Scout gave himself away way too easily and it concerned you a bit.

——————————————————————-

Soldier:

- “LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN I’M SPEAKING TO YOU, ROOKIE!” Soldier says confidently. You glare and say “Well I’d do that if I could see where your fucking eyes are.” aaaaand cue soldier’s immediate realization and instant guilt. These men seriously just speak out of their ass impulsively like babies.

- Bumps into you on accident in the hallway a few times and you certainly don’t need vision to know he opens his mouth in protest before immediately closing it and apologizing profusely for not being mindful enough toward your position. In fact this is beginning to happen a lot more than the other mercs for some reason.. The other ones EASILY move out of your way or make space politely. Yes, even Spy and Medic.

- You approach him one day; and you ask him if he might consider he has vision problems as well. Soldier quietly ponders the thought before audibly shrugging. You shake your head and ask him if he has any blurry vision, blind spots and whatnot. He mentions the top half of his eyes are pretty much dark. You blink for a second, then reach out to touch his head. Feeling something hard and metal.. You pull it off his head and he’s like “HOLY MOLY MARY MOTHER OF ROCKET JUMPING CHRIST! YOU FIXED MY BLINDNESS, PRIVATE! YOU MUST BE A DESCENDANT OF THE GOOD LORD JESUS!” Yes, it was his oversized helmet.

- You rub the bridge of your nose for a moment, utterly fucking tired and it’s not even ten yet.

——————————————————————

Demoman:

- SAME HAT! Sort of. Demoman is missing an eye, and his blind spot is annoying. You’ve both sort of unintentionally bonded over your poor eyes and after memorizing where his blind spot was, you make sure to walk up behind him in that exact area to startle him. Which usually results in both of you howling in laughter.

- You nervously ask demoman to be your eyes on the battlefield one day while anxiety is quite intense. Demoman shakes his head in irritation. “Ye do know I have horrible depth perception, everybody and der mother is movin at mach 10!?” and you respond “Great! We’re fucked.” You were indeed not fucked. Both of you managed to tough it out by ears alone. You make a great team and demoman is blessed to have you. You protect each other expertly.

- If you happen to have a white cane by any chance, prepare to do childish pretend sword battles with him during dinner time. Don’t worry, he’s using a broom. God knows that eyelander would actually try to kill you and everyone else in the room. Miss pauling is very displeased by your guys’ table manners.

————————————————————————

Engineer:

- You inspire him a bit. He was always a bit secretly doubtful of his own abilities after losing his hand in battle. It gave him a nagging insecurity that he’d fuck up in some way, or was no longer qualified due to his disability. You completely destroyed that insecure side of him. The way you effortlessly kill and complete your missions has made him feel better.

- You’re in his workshop one night, and you’ve memorized pretty much the entire layout of the room as this point. Minus maybe a few annoying bolts on the ground here and there that you dance over. You approach him and put your hands on his shoulder. Which he responds to by rubbing your left hand. “So uh, are you making some weird contraption that’ll fix my eyesight or something?” You ask as a joke.

- Engineer sounds offended by such a thing. “You don’t feel broken, do you? I’m not doing that.” He says sternly. “You’re not broken, Y/N. If you want I can make somethin’ partner but there’s nothing wrong with you and I don’t want you to feel that way. You’re no toy to be fixed so that everyone else is somehow comfortable! If ‘em boys are bothering you why I oughta—“

- You sigh in slight exasperation from the random dad rant but in the inside you’re thankful for his words. You hug him tightly in gratitude to shut him up and then feel a cold metal touch your arm. You look down, unable to discern the shape of the object. But it’s undoubtedly robotic-feeling. “Whats that?” You ask. Engineer pauses. Realizing he had taken his glove off. He realizes now’s a good time to remind you he’s on your side. He strokes you with his metal hand to soothe you. “Let’s just say we aren’t too different in some respects, sugar.” And his words is what makes you realize what it is.

- You drag the metal hand to your cheek and feel the cool claws against your skin. The thumb of the machinery rubs your chin.

————————————————————————-

Heavy:

- He figures out you’re blind right away and he genuinely doesn’t give a shit. He finds everybody equally annoying, like I said beforehand. You’ll notice as aforementioned he moves out of your way in the hallway however and aids you around the building whenever you ask him. He seems to care.

- He asks you how big he is from your perspective. You can answer that pretty confidently. The truth of the matter is that he’s the most recognizable due to his large body, rumbling voice, and massive footsteps. He nods and slightly smiles with reassurance. Good. Even those with eyesight problems know he’s dangerous. excellent. Just the way he likes it.

- Heavy fully trusts in your abilities and makes no attempts to help you in battle unless you ask. He’s seen you bash heads in one too many times without much thought and it’s safe to say they made a great call hiring you. Clearly you don’t let being blind affect your work whatsoever. In a weird sort of way, he feels oddly proud of you but won’t ever voice it outloud.

- You save him from a Spy and this causes a distant, disheveled look in his eyes as you run off and he stops whirling his gun. It isn’t often his kindness is rewarded like this. (Also now he’s wondering if he should ask Medic to give him supersonic hearing.)

———————————————————————-

Pyro:

- Pyro doesn’t realize you’re blind at all at first. It’s just not something they think much about when accessing new friends. His mind isn’t on scoping out their inherent “flaws” but rather scoping out how well you treat the others around you. Which is an odd thing for Pyro considering they’re quite content on vandalizing shit, disregarding people’s worldly positions and their feelings on it, and overall being an unforgiving nutcase who’d 100% bite off all the heads of their animal crackers and put them back in the box.

- Once they figure out you’re actually not here to cause damage, they seem to warm up fast. Pun intended. I think the moment they realize something’s wrong is when they silently point out a sniper around the corner with their pointer finger and you don’t even flinch. In their stead, Soldier audibly reminds you. This causes pyro to re-think how you might perceive some stuff.

- They begin to psychoanalyze you more out of habit. You seem to disregard a lot of certain visual stimuli in favor of sound. Without even asking you they figure out after a while that you’re blind and quickly adjust their behavior to better accommodate you. Instead of pointing at danger for example, they grab your hand and make you point at it… Which works, I mean. But he could just speak, y’know? It’s not like you can’t hear them better than anyone else over that gas mask.

- Pyro figures out how to convey signals to you without having to do the hard task of speaking. Two taps on your shoulder meant spy, one tap meant sentry around corner, and so on. Not only did this hide his intentions from the enemy team but helped you team up with them quickly.

————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Ugh.. Sniper is much like Scout in the sense that he has no clue how to respond to a blind person. He quickly assumes you’re inept at first and begins prioritizing your position on the battlefield more than anyone else. Shooting down key targets that get too close to you; or get in a quarrel with you. It’s flattering really but you can hold your own in a fight just fine. This is affecting your performance.

- You admittedly lose your mind and yell at him. But to be honest he had it coming with his stupid assumptions. Sniper doesn’t even complain nor move a muscle as you shout at him and storm off. He immediately feels regretful and tips his hat forward. Once again he’s lost another potential friend to his own behavior. “I was only trying to keep you alive.” He mutters to himself as he turns away. Unbeknownst to him, you heard it.

- Convinced, you sigh and walk back to him and run down the fact that you’re independent, and that you appreciated it but it’s important you complete things by yourself. Then you bitterly apologize for yelling at him. You could have swore you heard a soft “Sorry too…”

- This unexpected softness from a hard rough and tough guy like Sniper is what makes you reconsider him. He’s willing to fess up and apologize for having a bias. He just sucks at it. You forgive him hesitantly and you learn to not regret that later. Because he soon learns that you’re simply equal to all the other mercs and treats you as such.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- Come on now, really? He already has his hands on your medical history the moment you walk through the door. He doesn’t skip a beat whenever idly scanning for things he should keep note of. Medic never even asks you if you’re blind. He simply acts as though he’s always known. Opening doors for you, directing you if you truly need it. Aggressively shoving the other mercs out of the way to make way for you so he doesn’t need to tend to BOTH your wounds.

- At first you suspected him to go crazy over time and check your eyesight curiously like a wet specimen in a jar. But his indifference is.. Slightly unnerving. You decide to enter his office and hesitantly remind him that you’re blind. Because you genuinely don’t know at this rate.

- “So..?” He asks. Rather rudely at that. You want to exhale loudly in anger so badly. Why was everyone in this fuckin’ place so mean?? Medic takes his glasses off and readjusts the position of his desk papers. “Should I act upon this more and enforce more adjustments?”

- “No—“ You say slowly. “I didn’t know you even knew. Normally you’d go crazy with curiosity whenever someone is even mildly different than you in an attempt to understand them.” You tell him. This causes him to sort of put his fist to his lips and snort. Holding back a laugh. “What? You think I haven’t met a blind person before? You’re forgetting i’m a doctor. Plus that just means we’re safer with you around. I’d rather not be backstabbed a thousand times each round anymore.”

- Agh.. That explains it. That yellow folder on the table with the blurry photo of your image also explains it.

—————————————————————————-

Spy:

- FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- His poor pride is in pieces on the ground whenever you’re nearby. The other mercs can visibly see his fists clench into a ball and swear they see his eye twitch. Scout especially wonders if you’re going to be the one who finally blows his lid. Why? JUST WHY? Why can you hear him when nobody else can? He’s like a magician the way he disappears into the shadows. So why does it not affect you?

- He’s superior in every way and he knows it. So why is it whenever he’s lightly walking along the hallway to have a smoke break that you turn around and greet him? Truly, nobody else walks as gently and lightly as he does. His footwork to your ears is like a tiptoeing predator in the bushes the way he walks so slowly to achieve stealth. He freezes in place and grits his teeth everytime you do this… Then suppresses his own unholy wrath and stumbles away.

- .. You’re making him needlessly paranoid. He can’t work under these conditions. If you can sense him, then surely eventually the other team will? Congratulations on singlehandedly causing this old man work related silent panic attacks. His hair is falling out more than usual and he’s staring at himself in the mirror, with a dead gone expression. Staring into the void. He’s dissociating now.

- Tries to outsmart your own heightened senses in any way he can. The closest he’s gotten is maybe sneaking into your room while you were asleep to check your drawer and you woke up due to the sound of the drawer opening. After rolling around to face him, his cat-like eyes in the darkness disappeared as fast as they came in. WHOOOOSHHHhh went his cloak. You could even hear him tapping his watch in the process. Really, you didn’t understand how he was such a huge threat to the other team.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #mod spy #spy x reader #medic x reader #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #sniper x reader

[sleepyhutcherson]

wish i wasn’t so tired

on your way back home an argument between you and mike gets heavy when the words “this isn’t love, is it?” slips from one of you.

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

contains: argument, use of y/n, miscommunication, angst, reference to marriage, not a happy ending? boygenius lyrics being referenced </3

a/n: tired of writing fluff (jk i love fluff) but i come from a miserable fandom (before i entered the jhutch one) aaand im so used to writing heavy angst. anyway, i should be working on my request not this but :p

What a perfect scenery to go with the intense argument. the rain angrily hits against the window drowning out any sound with the harshness of it. Unfortunately, not enough to drown your voice nor Mike’s, the rain mimicking the aggression and anger of your voices.

“I don’t remember,” Mike repeats, his hands gripping the steering wheel tight enough his knuckles turned white. He was speeding, trying to get home.

“I just want to know what happened! You came home with your knuckles busted, blood everywhere and you’re suddenly unemployed, and you won’t even tell me what happened?!” You're facing him but his focus is on the road (as it should) and there’s this dull, emotionless expression on his face that makes you feel alone.

He doesn’t say anything and for a moment you think maybe he won’t say anything at all. He continues driving, his gaze fixated on the road while you stare at him feeling so stupid. You close your eyes, wishing you could disappear from this moment. Wishing you could just apologise to him, but you knew better, you had no reason to apologise to him. You were just concerned about him, you just wanted to know why his knuckles were bloody.

You blink when you realise Mike is pulling to the side of the road, putting the car in park.

“This isn’t love, is it?” Mike asks, meeting your eyes now. There’s a sadness to them that you’re familiar with, you see those sad brown eyes whenever he’s overwhelmed, stressed, tired of work, when his aunt calls, when abby ignores him after an argument but never towards you.

And those words. the question. The genuine curiosity to his tone when he asked it.

“W-What?” You stammer, hoping that maybe you misheard him. But you knew you didn’t.

“I mean, all we do is argue.” You sit up straight, turning away from Mike. You stare straight forward, you wish the road wasn’t so empty maybe you could distract yourself by looking for different licences plates.

You swallow, your throat dry suddenly. “Then what is it?” If it’s not love then what it is?

None of you have a response which only makes it worse. You loved mike, you really did, you never doubted that. There was a moment a few months ago where the two of you referenced getting married soon, Mike giddy about proposing, and you were over the moon about the idea.

And now?

Mike loves you, he’s never felt so in love with someone until he met you, never felt more loved by anyone else but you. But recently, his job has been killing him and he’s only worked at it for three days. his sleeping schedule is fucked, he isn’t ever really sleeping like most people do, not in the way that one falls asleep to get rest but in the way that he’s going back to the same dream every night looking for something—or, someone, in his case. His aunt is trying to take custody of Abby and he can’t let that happen but God he’s so fucking scared.

But he won’t say any of this to you. Not about how stressed he’s been, how tired, how scared and sad. Fuck’s sake you don’t even know that he could lose custody of Abby.

“Maybe it isn’t,” You say, not daring to turn to look at Mike. “But can…can I at least pretend that you love me?” Your voice is small, ready to break.

Mike’s brows furrow, he can hear the hurt in your voice. He hates hurting you. He can never just shut the fuck up can he? He didn’t mean to say what he did, he really didn’t. “Y/n, I… I do love you, so, so much.” Mike reaches for you, cupping your face, forcing you to look at him. Your eyes are watery, full of tears that are ready to spill.

“You do love me?” You ask, looking up, your eyes locked with Mike’s. He frowns at your words.

“I’ll always love you. I hate hurting you. I’m so sorry.” He says through a clenched jaw, his words a little sharp layered with a desperation to get you to believe him. He pulls you in, peppering kisses on your face. it’s not enough, he thinks, you deserve so much more than this—than him.

“Then why do you?” You whisper, bringing Mike to halt. He pulls from you, staring at you with the most hurt expression you think you’ve ever seen. “I just…just want to know you—to help you, but you’re always pushing me away.”

He looks down at his bruised knuckles with shame, falling quiet suddenly. You know about his brother, about the entire incident, and about his parents but he never told you just how much it all affected him. how it still affects him.

You place your hand over his, gently rubbing over the healing bruise. They looked nasty even after days, too vicious for Mike. He loves how you touch him, he doesn’t care that his knuckles sting at the touch because he longs for your touch, desperate for it. He becomes more needy for it while you two are arguing, he wishes he could just pull you in while you were biting at each other, wanting nothing more but to be held by you. He would allow you to continue to bite, he wouldn’t mind if you continued to sink your teeth into him; he would take the pain, endure it even…if you just held him.

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say, “I wish I wasn’t so tired...” he exhales, trying to keep his voice steady. “But I’m tired.” It comes out weaker than he hoped, his words falling and breaking.

“oh, Mike,” you sigh, reaching up and now it’s your turn: you cup his face, your other hand reaching up to run it through his curls. “Talk to me. you know that’s what i’m here for.” You keep your tone gentle, stroking his cheek softly with your thumb.

Mike knows this. he knows that if he could talk to anyone that it would definitely be you. He just can’t. he doesn’t understand it either, doesn’t know why he can’t just open up.

He doesn’t want to talk, not really. He doesn’t want you to think he’s broken. he doesn’t want you to know how much of a mess he is, how he thinks his life is slowly falling apart right now. How he might lose custody of his little sister. How he’s looking for his brother in his dreams that are turning into nightmares. How he thinks he may be losing you, too.

“Can we just go home?” He croaks, his eyes welling up with tears. He doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want you to see him cry either.

You frown. You just wanted to be there for him, you wish he would let you help him, if that’s too much for him then you’ll sit there and listen. You just wanted to know what was hurting him, who hurt him. God, you just wish you could read his mind.

You frown when he pulls away from you starting up the car. You just wanted to help. You wanted to take whatever struggles he had, most of all you wanted to know what he was struggling with. What was bothering him? If only he talked to you. But clearly he wasn’t going to open up anytime soon.

You force an “okay,” accepting your loss.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddy's #fnaf movie

[hsyvers]

IM IN LOVE WITH SPIDER-JEN you dont even understand 🥰😝😻 but im craving some angst... can you write yn getting attacked by one of yunjins enemies and she doesnt get there in time? my heart hurts just by requesting this 🤧

for you, i'd bleed myself dry - spiderwoman!h.yj x reader

WARNING(S); vague descriptions of death

NOTES; 1k. i hate writing angst so so much but when someone requests i'll try my best to deliver so 😭 yk atsv and like the thing abt canon events....and the last gwenter scene in tasm 2....yeah....im kinda denying that it's a pt.2 to my spiderwoman yunjin fic bc im delulu <3

"hey!" yunjin yells, her heart hammering in her chest, "y/n! i need to hear you!"

"i'm okay!" you respond shakily, standing on a tiny ledge that oversaw the whole hollow clocktower, except for a bunch of gears moving. the fall would still be able to kill, "focus on your fight!"

yunjin lets out a relieved sigh, wincing at the action. her ribs hurt the more she breathes, her vision getting blurry the more she evades her enemy's attacks.

how much has technology advanced anyway? with all the guys yunjin has had to deal with, especially the last few months, it felt like every terrible person was trying to be on par with spiderwoman.

that's how you all ended up on top of this fucking clocktower anyway. if it weren't for her insisting to give you a quick kiss, he might have thought you were just a normal civilian.

'fucking idiot,' she thinks to herself, forcing her limbs to move. once she feels her foot connect with his face, she dives down to get you.

"hold on tight," she orders, with you nodding quickly. she webs something sturdy above the both of you, but just as she pulls up, the criminal cuts it off.

all yunjin can hear is your gasp and his sickening laugh.

she grabs you with a web and sends another one to hold her up.

he seems bored of repeating the same action, jumping down to challenge yunjin to take him on again.

you see the white eyes of her mask focusing on you, and at this moment, it hurts to think of how much she loves you.

when he tries to grasp her arm, you shout a warning, and yunjin manages to kick him off again, her arm swinging to throw a punch before she holds herself up again.

then the gears meet, and your web snaps.

it happens so quickly, that, you wonder if you even screamed.

yunjin doesn't either. she just jumps.

lower, and lower, and lower.

a string chases your chest.

you hear a crack, and you feel yunjin's arms envelop you.

and you're grateful that that's the last thing you feel.

"please, please, please, oh fuck," yunjin pulls off her mask, tears streaming down her cheeks when she falls to the floor, cradling you, "please, babe, no. don't do this."

she leans her ear to your chest, and she has the urge to die herself when she hears nothing.

"honey, no, please," she begs softly, her chest wrecking with sobs when she presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

"get up, okay? tell me you're alright. scold me for being late to practice. yell at me for dropping you!"

it aches. it aches how alive you looked and how dead you felt.

"i'm so sorry, i'm so sorry," she chants, holding you closer as she cries, "it's all my fault. i should've-...i..."

"you look so tired," you whisper, one late night.

yunjin had come home around 3 am, and she's sitting tiredly on your bed, nuzzling her face onto your chest as you stood and held her.

"everything...hurts."

you pull her mask off, expression souring when you see a cut on her lip and eyebrow.

"one day, i'll kill the people who hurt you like this," you declare quietly, after patching her up, like you always have, and you always will.

"no need," she whispers, burying her face in your hair when you lay on the bed, "i'll handle them and you handle me, okay?"

you giggle, and nod in approval, taking her hand to press gentle kisses on her battered knuckles, "i'll take care of you."

and yunjin is surprised at how much she yearns. even when you're around. and painfully more so when you're not.

"it's rotten work."

"not to me. not if it's you."

she remembers falling asleep to your voice.

she never regretted touching you, kissing you, telling you how she loved you, every single day. she never forgot your lips on her own, her cheeks, and her scars.

maybe that's why it was so utterly devastating.

because she never felt that strongly about anyone, or anything. she was the city's protector while you were hers.

she crumbles completely, and she sits there for hours.

the police can arrive, blame everything on her, arrest her, she didn't care.

the only reason why she tears herself away from your body, was so you could be buried properly. she feels as though she can't speak, her eyes red and dull when she left you.

she doesn't come out of her room for days. everyone seems to notice spiderwoman's absence. her friends try to get to her, but she refuses to respond.

she finally shows her face at your funeral, and when they ask why she did, she merely says it's all for you.

and also, she thinks, because you saved her. again, even after death. you did have a way with words, after all.

to my soulmate,

i know you warned me before we started dating, about how i might be in as much danger as you are.

if you found this, it's because you were right, and for whatever reason, i can't be with you right now.

i just want to say that i don't regret kissing you that one night after you saved me, and i certainly wouldn't take back all the love i have given you and my experiences of you giving all you have left in you to me.

in fact, i'd do it all over again, and even now, i love you, i love you, i love you.

you got this! you can pull through it. you're the strongest person i know. and don't forget to lean on our friends if you need them. i know you'll be in good hands.

i took care of you for as long as i could, and you protected me to the best of your ability. i know, because i trust you.

so please, continue to smile and laugh for me, i'll be watching from wherever i am, so don't you dare forget it!

yours forever,

the love of your life (your words, not mine, babe)

#le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x reader #kpop x reader

[https-florals]

i know what you tell your friends - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 4.6k

summary: you’re losing your rules and all your resolve.

warnings: suggestive, angsty?? fanon rafe, protective rafe, misogyny, catcalling, kelce and topper being rude and nasty, drunk rafe, showering together but not in a sexy way, cursing, rafe yelling at you, rafe being a swiftie for fun, shitload of toxicity

a/n: I GOT VERY CARRIED AWAY ITS SO LONG!! hopefully y’all like this even tho there is no kissing or sexy times 😳 im v proud of this little miniseries!!!! pt3 will hopefully be in the works soon! read on beautiful people!

Rafe has never been good at following rules. It’s just not his thing. Parts of him simply forget restrictions, his mind deciding what it wants and his body following. Other times, he looks at a rule like a dare: he breaks them out of pure spite.

He can’t tell which reason is making him push the limits with you. 

It’s a pretty Saturday night at the country club, Rafe and his friends all crowded at a table in the corner of the club restaurant. He’s hoping that you’re not working and simultaneously praying you are.

Much to his chagrin (enjoyment?) you’re the first to bounce over to his table, pulling out your notepad and pen before you look up at the customers.

Rafe is painfully aware of the way your breathing hitches, your smile not quite reaching your eyes when you realize who is seated at your table. 

“How are y’all? What can I get started for ya?” You’re the damn picture of a perfect waitress, short black skirt stretched over your thighs and white polo purposefully unbuttoned. Rafe is thinking that there’s definitely a porno about something like this when Topper nudges him.

 “Bro? Your drink?”

“Whiskey. Whiskey sour, please,” he says, getting a side-eye from a buddy at how strained his voice is and how he deigned to even say please. 

The only thing he can think about is how pretty you would look with that skirt pushed up about your hips. 

“Dude? The fuck is wrong with you?” Kelce hits Rafe across the chest as you walk away, snapping him out of his stupor.

He blinks hard and shakes his head, like he’s trying to shake rain out of his face. “Nothing, man. I’m just tired.” Lying is currently Rafe’s number one hobby, apparently. First to your face about a multitude of things, now to his best friends. He doesn’t like to think of himself as a dishonest person- the principle of integrity has been drilled into him since he was a kid, and even though he’s managed to shake off a lot of guilt, something about lying to the people he loves grates on his conscience. 

Not that he loves you, or anything. 

When you come back with their drinks, Rafe tries his hardest to ignore the way his friend’s eyes rake over you. 

You’re so bubbly and customer-service-y as you pass out drinks, smile bright when Topper thanks you for his old-fashioned. A slight twinge of jealousy hits Rafe, and he wishes you’d smile at him like that.

The second you walk away, Topper makes some offhand comment about how he couldn’t help but look straight down your shirt when you gave him his drink, and Rafe bites back a comment about how Topper wasn’t worthy of that smile you gave him. He focuses on picking out what he wants to eat.

Rafe drifts in and out of the conversation with his boys, but mostly watches you as you go from table to table. You’re back for their food order, and it’s almost like you’re avoiding making eye contact with him. 

Topper is leering at you, Kelce is being rude to you, they’re all being dickheads, but who is the one person you aren’t even looking at? Rafe.

As you leave, Kelce grins. “She’s fine as hell, Top. You see the way she looked at you?”

The boy’s cheeks tint pink as he takes a sip of his drink. “Practically begging for it,” he chuckles.

Rafe is silent as Kelce howls for no damn reason, slapping the table as a joke that just isn’t funny.

“Man, this is your opportunity,” Kelce chirps as you walk from table to table. “Ask her if she’s doing anything after her shift!”

Topper throws his hands up, attempting to act bashful but the bold smile on his face betrays it. “What am I supposed to say, dude?” He shifts his tone, making it nauseatingly breathy and smooth. “C’mon, babe, let me give it to you right,” Topper practically moans in her direction, sending Kelce into another howling fit.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe groans, slouching in his chair and downing the rest of his sour. His friends are insufferable, he knows that. He’s never really cared before, in fact he himself often goes along with their lewd jokes- flirting with club staff, making gestures behind their backs. Why it’s just now grating on him so hard, he doesn’t know.

If the boys hear him, they don’t act like it. They’ve moved onto horrific pickup lines.

“If I flip a coin, what are my chances of getting ahead?”

“Roses are red, violets are fine, you be the six, I’ll be the nine!”

Rafe sighs, wishing he had at least two more drinks sitting in front of him. “Can you not? You’re acting like douchebags.” His words are coated with annoyance. He sounds like a mother chiding her boys.

“Who pissed in your cereal, man?” Topper scoffs. “We’re just messing around. You’ve been so tight lately, bro. You usually eat this kinda bullshit up.”

It’s true, but it makes him cringe. He’s been guilty of the very thing he’s angry at them about, and it’s probably the reason you think he’s a shit person. 

Kelce laughs. “You’re just mad she ain’t looking at you, dickwad.”

They’ve finally shut up by the time you come back with their food, much to Rafe’s relief. 

His hand just barely brushes yours when you hand him his plate, and you jolt so hard that the club sandwich almost slides off. There’s a flash in your eyes like you’re hoping he doesn’t notice, but of course he does. 

He notices everything about you. 

He also notices the way your skirt shifts up as you move, and Rafe resists the urge to reach out and tug it down. 

You clear your throat as you set everything else down, wiping your hands on the front of your skirt, pushing it down a little.

Thank God.

“Okay, gentlemen! Anything else we need?” You smile, and Rafe thinks that he needs you to kiss him like, right this second, but he bites his tongue and shakes his head.

You’re just about to turn away when Kelce clears his throat, saying, “One more thing I need to know, miss!”

It’s like he’s talking in slow motion. Every part of Rafe is filled with an inexplicable dread as he begins to speak.

“Job policy make you wear this?”

You pause, a little perplexed frown on your face. “No, I just wear an Island Club polo for fun.”

Kelce grins, and runs his hand down your arm, not faltering at your tone and not even when you jerk away. “Strictly that? Nothing else?”

You’re preparing for some lewd joke about whether or not your wearing panties.

“You need some more… accessories.” He grins, innocent when he looks up at you. “I’ve got one that would look great in your mouth.”

Rafe’s vision goes a little red when your jaw drops open. He stands up quick and slams his palms on the table. “Get the fuck out, man.”

“Has that ever worked for you?” you blurt incredously as Rafe moves around you. His hand tucks on your waist as he slides you away from Kelce, but you pretend not to notice.

Kelce gasps when Rafe grabs him by the sleeve to pull him out of the restaurant. 

“Dude! Chill out!” Topper protests.

The look on Rafe’s face scares you a little when he whips around to look at Topper, snapping, “You wanna quit acting like a douchebag, or do you want me to haul your sorry ass outta here too?”

Topper flushes and sits. 

“Don’t ever let me catch you talking like that to any of these girls here, alright?” Rafe is seething as he pushes Kelce into the club bathrooms. The other boy’s jaw is dropped open, nodding his head. 

Rafe knows he can be scary. Right now, he uses that to his advantage, hand fisted in the collar of Kelce’s shirt as he towers over him. 

Kelce is trying to break free, but Rafe refuses to budge. “You are gonna go back out there and say you’re sorry, and then leave her the biggest tip she’s ever seen. Got it?” 

The shorter boy nods fervently when Rafe lets go of him, and practically sprints back to find you.

Rafe steps out of the bathroom, leaning up against the wall as he watches Kelce find you and apologize. Your eyes are wide while he’s talking to you, and you give him a timid smile right before he walks away.

Rafe hates him. He hates the way he spoke to you, and hates the way you don’t punch him in the dick. If you want something done right, you have to do it yourself, he thinks.

When you walk away from Kelce, Rafe follows you before even really thinking about it.

You’re finally within reach and he grabs your wrist, spinning you to face him.

Yanking your arm away from him, you hiss, “What are you doing?” The stilted customer-service kindness is gone.

“I’m sorry my friends are assholes,” he whispers, taking a step back from you, his hands up like he’s begging you not to shoot.

Your shoulders sag. “It’s not your fault, Rafe. You don’t have to apologize.”

“No, I do,” he says, voice thin. “I acted like that, before, and now they think it’s cool to be dicks.”

“Before?”

Before you, he thinks, but doesn’t say. 

“I try not to be like that anymore,” Rafe says instead. He holds his hand out like a peace offering, and you accept it, your palm sliding against his in an awkward shake.

“Friends?” He asks, soft and questioning.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you joke, not quite catching the way Rafe frowns. “I gotta go. Text me later, okay?”

He promises he will, then he’s moping back to his table, where he slaps down two fifties and makes Kelce add two more to the pile. The boys are gone before you can even offer a check.

You get off late, heading back to the Chateau drained. You pass on a game of poker with your friends for a shower, receiving a boo from John B and several rude names from JJ.

After a good half-hour shower and coating your body in lotion, you’re feeling up for cards, and settle at the table with a glass of apple juice.

“Ooh, now that is hard liquor,” Sarah comments, teasing as she deals you in.

“I don’t feel like drinking tonight. Y’know, in case I have to drive anywhere.”

“Where would you be driving?” Pope asks, and you shrug in return, even though you know exactly where.

“She’s gotta see her little kook boyfriend,” JJ says, but there’s a bite to his words.

“Not my boyfriend,” you state, hands up.

Kiara makes a face, but you don’t miss it.

“Guys. We are strictly just fucking.”

“Ew! I don’t wanna hear about that shit!” JJ shouts, and the rest of the table makes disgusted noises.

You look at him with an incredulous expression. “Can a girl not get laid anymore without everyone having to give a damn opinion? We are just messing around!”

“It’s not like he’s the absolute worst,” Sarah ventures, her hand sneaking over yours.

John B frowns at her while JJ chimes in, saying. “Sarah. I know he’s your brother, but he is actually the worst.”

“He’s getting better!’ She defends, voice high.

Almost like he knows he’s the subject of your conversation, Rafe’s caller ID pops up on your phone. You motion for everyone to be quiet, and answer it. Your volume is up and for once the Pogues are so quiet that they can hear the other line without you even putting it on speaker.

Rafe croons your name over the phone, one, two, three times before you can say anything.

“Rafe?”

“Hey, baby!” There’s a crackle and the sound of fabric shuffling against the speaker. “Shit. I’m not supposed to call you that.”

“What are you doing?” you ask, though it's more of a scold than a question.

“I need your help,” he says, and you can hear music in the background. “Top was supposed to  be my DD, and I can’t find him.”

“Are you drunk? How many shots  have you had?”

Rafe doesn’t answer you, but keeps rambling. “Sarah didn’t answer any of my texts, and I don’t know who else to call.”

Sarah’s eyebrows knit together and she checks her phone, turning it so you can see that she has no notifications from her brother.

“Come pick me up? Please?”

There’s a moment of silence on your end, and Rafe repeats, “Pretty please.”

He says your name again, so soft it makes your heart ache. “I need you.” 

You sigh and stand up, JJ throwing his hands up in exasperation, but having the courtesy to remain silent. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Send me the bar and for the love of God, don’t drink anymore!”

“You’re the best,” Rafe answers, and doesn’t hang up, so you have to hit the button.

You’re rushing out the door, ignoring your friend’s remarks and jabs.

“I”m not letting you in when you get back here at the asscrack of dawn,” John B warns as you grab your keys.

You ignore him and race out to your car. When you get to the bar, Rafe is sitting outside on the steps, head between his hands. 

You park illegally in front of the entrance, ignoring the loud honk from a car. Rafe’s face lights up when he sees you hop out of your car, and starts to stumble toward you. He trips when he’s just a few feet away from you, and you stick your arms out to stop his fall. It doesn’t quite work, and the breath is knocked out of you when your back hits the metal of your car door.

Rafe jerks back, eyes wide. “Are you okay?” He’s inspecting you like you’re an apple in a grocery aisle- spinning you around, checking for bruises.

You nod, and make an odd little squawking noise when he hugs you tight and effectively takes your breath away a second time.

“I missed you,” he exhales into your hair, and you realize just how drunk he is.

You pull away, squinting up at the redness in his face. “How many drinks did you have?”

He shrugs and grins, eyes stuck on your lips, unashamed. “Too many.”

Blowing out a breath, you open the car door and help him in. “I can tell. Arms in, bud.”

There is too much sweetness in your tone, but you realize it a little too late, and can’t find it within yourself to even care.

When you slide into the driver’s seat, he slumps over the center console, head nestled on your shoulder and his hand slipping to your knee.

Spotify is shuffling all of your favorite Taylor Swift songs, and you notice about halfway through the drive that Rafe is quietly singing along. 

His fingers idly play with the frayed hem of your sweatshorts, humming, “if I showed up to your party, would you have me, would you want me…” It’s a little slurred, but he hits every note right.

“Didn’t know you were a swiftie,” you joke, pressing your cheek to the top of his head.

He shakes his head, but laughs all the same. “I let Sarah have aux whenever I gotta drive her places. She really likes the album that’s like, blue, and it’s got all those songs about Harry Styles on it.”

“1989?” 

He nods. “She loves that one. Good album.”

“You’re so right.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Rafe is saying your name, whispering it like it’s a taboo word.

“I’m sorry my friends were such assholes earlier.”

“You already apologized. It’s alright, I’ve heard worse.” His face after you say that makes him look like he’s in physical pain. “Seriously, Rafe. Kelce’s question was maybe the most PG thing I heard today. Teenage boys say some wild shit to waitresses.”

He frowns. “I’ll beat those little motherfuckers up. Gimme a list, I’ll rock their shit.”

You tell him no, but you’re laughing. “I don’t need you to protect me, Rafe.”

He shrugs, acting like the phrase just rolls off his shoulders. “I don’t give a shit about what you think you do or don’t need,” he says, too nonchalant.

“Excuse me?” You swerve a little as you whip your head towards him.

Rafe sighs, stretching out in the passenger. The muscles of his thigh tense as he moves, fully on display with his little 5-inch inseam shorts. 

“I’m not repeating it, baby.”

Your chest tightens, breath a little shallow as you keep your eyes on the road. His hands are red hot on your thigh, like his fingerprints are burning into your thigh. You need to push his hand off before he can lay claim on you like that, but you don’t move, his fingers pressing and sliding and flaming. 

“Sarah told me you had a date the other day.” His voice has a little bit of venom. 

“I did,” you confirm, giving him a side-eye.

His profile looks like stone as he stares out the window, streetlights reflecting on his skin. “Why? Who was he?”

“You don’t know him, Rafe,” you sigh. “He’s from the cut. Works with JJ.”

His tongue pokes into his cheek as he laughs. “You and these Pogie assholes. You ever gonna try something different?”

“I have some range. Not just pogues. You’re a Kook asshole, and we get along just great.”

Rafe’s brows narrow. “Get along? You just want to fuck me, that’s why we get along.”

“You’re so right. Good job!” You try to joke.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

You jump and swerve at the sudden change in his voice. You’ve heard him yell before, but it’s never been directed at you. “Why are you yelling?” you shout back. You don’t know why your eyes are burning.

“I”m yelling cause you’re a fucking idiot,” he groans, but his hand is still painfully hot on your thigh.

You scoff and push it off. “Shut up, Rafe.”

His jaw tenses and shudders a little. “They’re so shit to you,” he practically cries. “And I’m here. I would be so good to you. Better than any of these dickheads.”

You rub your eyes, telling yourself it's because you're tired and not because you're about to cry. “Why are they dickheads? I think you’re an dickhead.”

“Don’t say that,” he whines.

“What makes them worse than you, Rafe?” you huff.

“Cause they don’t love you like you need to be loved.” He’s looking everywhere but you, and you’re thinking about pulling over because your heart is beating so fast you feel like you might die. Then his eyes finally shift to yours, piercingly blue. They remind you of the waves that break overhead when your surfboard pulls you down under the water.

His fingers are tracking back to your thigh, and you do your best to keep your damn eyes on the road and drive, no matter how hard he’s staring at you. 

“Like I could love you.”

Your knuckles are white on the steering wheel. There’s no words stuck in your throat because you can’t think of any; you’re panicky and you can’t breathe.

His face turns to the window and he begins to hum to the radio. Nothing else is said.

Rafe is still humming when you help him out of the car, his arm slung around your shoulders.

“Thank you for coming and getting me,” he says, breaking the heavy silence when you reach the door.

You stare at him like he’s an alien. He never says thank you. You're still reeling from the car conversation, but you clear your throat and pat his shoulder, like you’re just two buds. “You good from here?”

“No.” He says it so quickly, bottom lip poking out like a little kid. “I need you.”

I don’t give a shit about what you think you need. The thought twinges in your brain, and you stop yourself from saying that you don’t think you need to stay.

“You can at least make sure I don’t like, drown in the bathtub. And get in bed.” He smiles that heartbreaker grin. 

You can’t tell if he’s sober or drunk, or what. You sigh, and push past him, dragging the tall boy in tow. “Fine. No funny business.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gives you a little salute, and stumbles along with you. 

It’s so hard getting Rafe upstairs that you give up on being quiet, and settle for praying that none of the Camerons wake up and catch the two of you. When you finally get to his room, you push him into the bathroom. 

“You reek,” you sigh, shutting the door as quietly as you can. 

“Rude,” he responds, peeling off his shirt.

You try not to watch him shuffle out of his clothes as you turn on the water, running your fingers under the stream and checking the temperature. When it’s warm enough, you turn back to Rafe, doing everything but staring as he stands shamelessly naked in front of you. 

“I- your- The water’s hot.”

He laughs and shuffles past you. “Don’t act like you’ve never seen me naked.”

Your cheeks heat, but you blame it on the rising humidity in the bathroom. After making sure he’s alright, you slip out. 

You pace Rafe’s room, messing with the few trinkets on his desk and marveling at the cleanliness. He has a little oyster shell dish with a little painting of UNC, and a couple of rings lay in it. You’re trying on his signet ring when you hear a thud. 

“Rafe?” you whisper-yell. There’s just the sound of running water. You rush into the bathroom, flicking on the fan to clear a little of the steam. Against your better judgment, you slide open the shower door. Rafe is slumped against the tile wall, eyes shut, mouth open. Dead asleep. You step in, water drenching your clothes as you smack his cheeks, trying to wake him up. “Rafe, when you said I needed to make sure you didn’t drown in the bathtub, I didn’t think you meant literally,” you mutter as you try to push him up and out of the water stream.

His eyes blink open, then roll back, then close again. 

“Rafe! Come on, baby,” you mutter, and smack him again.

His eyes fly open and you jolt back as his lips curve into a grin. “You called me baby.”

You frown. “Did not,” you lie.

“I love when you lie. You’re bad at it.”

Self-righteous asshole, you think. “Sit down,” you instruct him, pointing to the built-in shower bench. He sits, and you squirt some of his shampoo into your palm. You’re pleasantly surprised that it’s not 3-in-1. It even smells good. Standing between his legs, you push the shampoo through his hair, raking your fingernails over his scalp and giggling at all the little moans he lets out. 

Your clothes are soaked, uncomfortably so. Your tee clings to you, and Rafe’s hands fiddle with the hem of it. 

“Why are your clothes on?” He asks, tone genuine.

“Because you’re drunk,” you answer, “and I wanted to keep them on.”

He nods, and you rinse the suds out of his hair. The casual intimacy of the moment hits you hard when Rafe rests his head on your chest. It’s so soft and sweet and so out of the ordinary for the two of you that it’s nearly blindsiding. 

You get him cleaned up, and then track water all over the tiles when you grab towels. He wraps it around his hips, and you shiver as you pull it around your shoulders.

If the shower sobered him up at all, it’s not evident in his attitude towards you, but he is walking a little straighter. Rafe pulls a tshirt out of his drawer, and two pairs of boxers. One pair is for him, and he slides into bed, watching you expectantly.

You stare back at him. “What?”

“Shirt and boxers are for you. You can’t sleep in soaking wet clothes.” 

“Close your eyes.” 

Shockingly, he does, throwing a hand over his eyes without further questioning. 

You strip and don the outfit. The boxers are soft, and there’s a few holes in the collar of the shirt. It’s worn, with a faded Rolling Stones emblem. “I never see you wear this,” you say, and his eyes open, lips pressing together as a smile just flickers over his face. 

“Cause I don’t. It looks good on you.” Rafe’s cheeks are a little pink, and he’s looking at you with pure adoration.

You turn to hide the shakiness of your hands, and sit on the bed to pull on your Tevas before grabbing your keys. “You all good? I gotta head back to the Chateau.”

“No, I’m not good,” Rafe answers with a groan. “You should stay.”

You stare at him, taken aback. “No, I should not. I really need to go back.”

“Why?”

You shrug. A good reason is not floating through your brain at the moment, or at least one that’s real. You could say they need you back for… something. It’s a lie. You could say you have to help JJ with something. Also a lie, plus it would make Rafe mad, you think. Not to mention the fact that you aren’t sure if you and JJ are still on speaking terms after the way he glared at you when you left.

You could always say you don’t want to stay. But damn, that’d be the biggest lie of all.

“I just need to. Rules, remember?” you remind him as an afterthought. 

He sighs, loud and overdramatic. “Rules, schmoolze. Just stay.”

When you fiddle with the strap of your sandals, deciding whether or not to take them off, he reaches for your wrist, fingers hooking on your bracelets.

“I’ll be good,” he whispers. “Promise.”

Well, shit. How can you say no to that?  

Within seconds your shoes are off, keys tossed somewhere, and you’re crawling into bed with him. You’re rigid at first when he slides his arms around your waist and pulls you a little closer.

“Relax. Quit acting like I’ve never touched you before.”

“You haven’t like this,” you answer, voice strained.

“Don’t worry. Cuddling up won’t make you fall in love with me,” he huffs, and your leg hooks over him as your head tucks against his chest.

He’s wrong, you think. He’s wrong, and you need to go home. Right now.

But then his hand is on your back, and he’s humming another damn Taylor Swift song, and his thumb is circling your shoulder blade so, so slow.

You’re too far gone to leave now. 

“Comfy?” He stops humming to ask.

You nod, just a little bit, trying to find a place for your gaze to rest. Your options are endless- his eyes, his mouth, his chest- but none of them seem safe. You settle for a freckle on his cheekbone. “What about you?” you ask in return.

“Never been better.”

He’s comfortable in the silence, and you most definitely are not. It’s foreign, being in his bed with your clothes on and a part of him not inside you. You’re not sure how to act about it.

Rafe clearly does, either that or he’s winging it. His hands are soft and soothing all over you, willing you to loosen up. He unwinds the coil in your shoulders, the tightness in the small of your back.

As your eyes start to drift shut, you feel his lips against your forehead.

“Goodnight, honey.”

“Goodnight,” you repeat.

Your stupid little list of rules is doing nothing.

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!!!! thank you for reading!

#outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #obx #obx s3

[cosmicck]

Happy 1k!🥳 Can I get Jing Yuan with the prompt 2, 3, and 15 so desk sex, biting, and begging. Uhh I hope I did this right idk💀 anyways have a good day🎉🎉

★jing yuan x male reader(nsfw)

★genre:smut

★warning(s): domtop yuan, subbottom reader, desk sex, marking(biting, both receiving..i think), begging, reader is a virgin, kinda short cuz im tired but i love this man too much

★prompt(s): 2, 3, 15

★a/n: omg thanks bookie🥰 sorry this took me a while i was watching an orca documentary

jing yuan calling you to his office wasn't odd, but it wasn't normal to you either. you had worked for the general for quite some time and usually people got called to his office if he needed to discuss something important.

but him guiding your hips up and down on his cock in his desk chair wasn't one of the 'important' things you were thinking of. the room felt hot and stuffy, and so did your body. your arms tight around his neck trying to stay on him as he kept moving your hips.

with him in you, it made you feel so full as he thrusted in and out your hole, and what made him love this all the more is that he knew you were a virgin, he knew he was your first and that just made it all the more exciting.

you were already so sensitive to every touch before he was in you, he didn't even have to ask. your legs felt numb and weak, your fingers tangling through his long white hair that you had always thought was so petty, it was so beautiful especially when it was all the way down, or when it flowed through the wind.

you admire your general you really do. your moans gradually get louder feeling his tip rub against a bump that made your body almost go fully limp. he seemed to notice this as he stopped, you could've guessed he was exhausted but then why didn't he just ask you to leave?

he just kept you there and you swear you could hear papers shuffling. is he fucking serious? "why..aren't you moving?" he hung continueing to do his work before he spoke. "i'm sure you can angle yourself to where it feels good right?" you could barely feel your legs, so of course you couldn't find the strength to lift yourself up,

as he was guiding your hips the whole time. "please..i can't move, i feel so numb.." he laughed lightly, and tapped your thigh, "oh i'm sure you'll be just fine my dear. all you have to do is bounce your hips up and down, it shouldn't be so hard should it?"

he could be one cocky bastard when he wanted to be. you sigh shakily before lifting your hips slowly and settling them back down small shivers and jolts going through your body as you do this.

you could tell jing was enjoying this as you could feel and hear his breathes going shakey against you neck as you do this, along with small grunts echoing through your ears.

"just like that..go a little faster yeah?" you nod, changing your position so that your now leaning back with your elbows on the desk, looking straight on his eyes, both filled love and lust.

leaning your head back, you start to move your hips up and down once more, it being faster than the last time. the loud sounds of wet skin against skin starts to return as you pick up the pace,

you cover your mouth your moans muffled as you try not to make much noise as anyone who could have walked by the office could hear your whorish moans as you bounced on your own generals cock.

"look at me and uncover your face, i wanna see your face as you- fuck— do this." removing your hand from your mouth and lifting your head looking back at him, your face wasn't the only face looking cock drunk.

he loved how good he felt inside you, his face was flushed as small beads of sweat dripped from his forehead and his hands returning to your hips once more forcing your ass down harder,

hitting the spot that made you feel limp as before, you couldn't even moan right only a small screech being heard from your lips as the moment he jammed into your prostate, cum instantly splurts onto your stomach your body going limp once again.

he thrusts a few more times before his own semen shoots into you, the liquid felt so good and warm in your hole, a little of his spilling out onto the floor,

the both of you left breathless and tired. you could barely think anymore, but you do know this will start to become a daily thing as he calls you into his office more.

no i will not be checking for spelling errors cuz i know it's cringe asf😭 @gaybitchfx @esthxio @vyloy @reallyromealone / @rome-alone @lostsomewhereinthegarden @secretivemessenger @jingyuans-boothang

BITCH IT WAS YO TAG I WAS MISSING YAYA IM GONNA FIGHT U

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x male reader #honkai star rail #hsr jing yuan #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr x male reader #male reader smut #bottom reader #bottom male reader #top jing yuan #dom top jing yuan

[teyammybeloved]

A thousand sorrys

miguel o’hara

summary : when you overhear miguel say some not nice things about you while under the influence, and pressure of his friends, you decide to distant yourself

warning: ANGST AGNST ANSGT. fluffy ending tho i think, mentions of swearing, overthinking, idk, established relationship, pregnancy

you walked around the HQ with a small spring in your step, which was nothing out of the ordinary really. you knew miguel had been working hard lately, and had been not doing a very good job of taking care of himself.

so being the caring person you care, you had brought him his favourite food, which was in the white takeout box in your hand, spa gift vouchers in your pocket, and a little something else, all that you wanted to give miguel tonight, you hadn’t been home in nearly a week, staying at your parents to help with your dad who had fallen ill

walking to his office, you see lyla there, “hey lyla, miguel in there?” you ask softly, she replies. “no, he is upstairs at the bar with a few friends” you nodded

you wondered which friends that was, but much to ur surprise when you walk into the bar, you don’t recognise them, they definitely aren’t from here, peering over you notice miguels glass empty, so you walk over to the bar without them noticing you to order miguel a new drink, close enough you can hear the conversation, but you don’t really pay it any mind

until your name gets brought up.

“so that little girlfriend of yours, y/n?” one of the guys said. “what about her?” miguel asked, you second guess buying the drink, you could hear the slur in his words, telling you he is basically already drunk, you can’t help but wonder why he didn’t correct the boy, you’re his wife.

“she follows you around like a puppy, clinging to you all the time” you frown, your back still turned to them. you loved miguel, of course you wanted to be around him.

“yeah- is that not really fucking annoying?” another guy pitches in. you wait for miguel to defend you.

but it doesn’t happen.

“yeah it is, she just- doesnt get the hint that i want her to leave me alone, so annoying” miguel slurs and hiccups all the way through his sentence.

you try to convince yourself its just because he is drunk, but you have always stood by drunk words sober thoughts. as the bartender meets you, you want to scram.

“hey y/n, what can i get for you” he says softly, the music is loud enough, you pray miguel didn’t hear him just say your name, but thankfully he didn’t. “you know. im okay actually” you mutter, he nods before moving on.

you walk away from the bar as quickly as possible. going back to yours and miguels shared home. however you find yourself taking a few things and walking to the guest bedroom.

did you really cling to him? it was something you always worried about but he told you he loved how clingy you are.

you we’re left to ponder your thoughts for a few hours.

miguel sobered up a bit once his friends left, finding his way back to his office now in his right mind, he didn’t even remember much but he knew he had a lot to drink to have to deal with them.

they just weren’t the type of people he enjoyed being around anymore, and when they show up unannounced and uninvited it made it difficult to avoid any longer.

“y/n was here, she left you something on your desk” lyla said as miguel approached. “y/n is here?” he instantly perked up, looking around, he had missed you so so much.

“she was, she said she looked for you but couldn’t find you so she went home” miguel frowned, normally you would wait in his office, but you mustve been tired.

“thanks lyla” he said, before making his way into his office, he walked over to his desk, smile making its way onto his face as he saw the takeout box, he looked down, picking up the pieces of paper, spa trips, together.

he felt himself relax more immediately, knowing he would be able to get that quality time with you after not being with you for so long.

he couldn’t wait to get home.

you had come to the ultimate decision after a few hours, if miguel thought you were so clingy, you would give him space, but the idea of being in the same house as him made your stomach churn, how could you look at him while knowing he thinks youre too clingy and annoying.

so you right a quick note, and leave it on the fridge with a magnet, taking fresh close, and leaving.

the note wasn’t a lie, everything on it was true, the only difference is, if you hadn’t heard what miguel said, you wouldve declined.

when miguel got home, he was disappointed not to see you straight away. he absolutely hated being away from you, he missed hugging you, and kissing you, and hearing your voice and seeing you smile.

he called out your name but couldn’t hear a response. he quickly went to the kitchen to get a bottle of water, noticing the note on the fridge, which wasn’t there before.

‘im sorry i couldn’t see you, mom called and said that dad had gotten worse and they still needed more help, so i got some new clothes and stuff and i’ll probably be home in a week or so, ill still show up to work because i know this is an extra week away, but ill be there, i just wont be home, i tried to look for you at the HQ, but couldn’t find you. the spa tickets with go out of date in a week, so you can find someone else to go with, im sorry”

be safe

y/n’

he frowned, feeling his stomach fill with a unfamiliar feeling, that he couldn’t explain. while he hoped your dad was okay, he missed his wife, so insanely much and he wanted nothing more than to hold you.

he reread the letter, noticing you didn’t add your ‘i love you spider boy’ at the bottom like you normally do on every note you right. he assumes you were in a rush.

he will see you tomorrow, at work.

you shouldve come to miguels office by now, he thinks. it’s almost noon and you come in at least a couple times a day just to sit and talk, but you haven’t, he hasn’t seen you, but he knows you’re there.

and lunch he decides to find you himself.

you feel a soft hand on your back, looking behind you, and up, you see miguel, you stiffen immediately. “hey bonita.” he mutters softly, “hey” you reply, moving away from his touch but you make it seem like youre just waiting to get the next food item.

“missed you” he says, wrapping his arms around you, from behind. you want to reply and tell him how much you miss him but you don’t. as you get the next food, miguel releases you from his arms, you face him.

“hows your dad?” he asked softly. “i think he is okay” you reply. miguel frowns, you don’t see happy to see him — but you have a lot going on, maybe youre just stressed.

“do you want to come have lunch in my office, missed talking to you” he says softly, grabbing your hand. “im sorry miguel, i promised jess id sit with her” you say, miguel frowns. “its alright, ill see you later?” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “sure- maybe” you mutter. “i love you” he says, but you just walk away, he tells himself you just didn’t hear him.

he doesn’t see you later that day.

the rest of the week is the same, you avoid him, always busy, doing something. he can’t help to feel like there’s something bigger.

he hears the front door open, late saturday night, he instantly perked up. for you, the last week has been filled with self doubt and hatred. finding it impossible to get out of your own head. youre mother had to actually kick you out, to get you to go home.

“baby?” miguel calls out as he leaves his office, he sees you in the door way, duffle bag over your shoulder. “hey” you say, as you continue walking to the bedroom to unpack your stuff.

“y/n” he says as you avoid his touch once more. “miguel” you say in the same tone, he follows you to the bedroom.

“whats going on?” he asks softly, wanting nothing more then to fix what he had done. “miguel.” you say, almost in a way that screams i dont want to talk about it.

“i know its more then just your dad, whats going on, what did i do wrong?” he asks, desperate for an answer. you run your hands through your hair.

“nothing miguel” you say. he frowns. “stop calling me that” he says.

“stop calling you your name?” you ask, sitting on the bed, looking up at him, you looked so tired miguel almost dropped it. “you never call me my name, its always baby or my love what did i do” he is desperate.

“oh sorry, am i being annoying?” you ask, miguel raised his eyebrow at your tone, “what do you mean?” he asks, pure confusion.

you shake your head. “i heard you miguel, in the bar with your friends, who obviously hate me. “im too clingy and annoying right?”

miguel feels a punch to his gut, but its not physical. “baby - no - no no no” he says, trying to grab your hands, but you pull them away.

“stop- miguel. i can leave you alone, i can stop following you around, and talking so much all the time”

“no don’t stop, please don’t stop” he is stressing, he fucked up and bad and he was losing you and he was panicking, “i love when you follow me and i love hearing you talk, i promise- i swear i do”

“obviously not”

“y/n- please just hear me out”

“i asked you so many times if i was too clingy or annoying and you said no, every single time and said you loved it, my biggest insecurity miguel- and you hate it, and you lied to me and said that you didn’t, but also talked about me behind my back, you’re supposed to be my husband” you say, shaking your head.

“i am your husband- i didn’t lie to you- i don’t- i dont hate it at all, i love it, i really do i love when youre close to me and i fucking hate when youre not” he says.

“stop miguel- i heard what you said”

“baby i was out of my mind drunk, you know why you have never met them, because i fucking hate them, i let them influence me every fucking time. they had been riling me up about going soft all fucking day since they arrived and i needed them to stop, im sorry, im so sorry i said it, i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean any of it and im sorry.”

you frown, you do believe him, he had told you about these friends before and how they always have a way of getting to him before he can even stop it, and they weren’t important to him.

but you we’re still hurt.

“miguel- i need time” you say, he shakes his head, “youve had a week, please just stay home, stay with me and we can fix this”

“i know we can fix this miguel- im just extremely tired right now and i don’t want to be mean” you say, laying in the bed, on your side facing him.

“im sorry, im so so so sorry” he says, getting into bed next to you. “please forgive me, bonita, i miss you clinging to me so so so much, i miss having you in my arms and kissing your lips, hearing you laugh- i cant lose you.”

you sigh, half asleep as you listen to him. “you won’t miguel” you say.

the words linger on your tongue before you open your mouth, “im pregnant miggy” you say, before falling asleep.

when you wake up, you look to your side at the digital clock, gasping when you realise youre three hours late at the HQ, whats worse, is that miguel is in bed next to you, staring at the ceiling also late to work.

“miguel- we are so late” you mutter, sitting up. but miguel doesn’t move. “miguel- get up,” you say, “we’re not going, i called us in sick” he says, little emotion in his tone. “what- miguel what?” you shake your head.

“you’re pregnant” you forgot what you said last night in the last moment before falling asleep. “oh- miggy- i can still go in- so can you”

“you didn’t tell me” he muttered, frowning. “how long have you known?” he asks, you frown. “two weeks, im a month in.” you say softly.

“i came to the HQ, the day i came back.. i left the test in your draw but i guess you didn’t see it.” you say softly.

“we’re having a baby” he says, before he smiles. “we are having a baby, our baby.” you smile seeing his face.

“im sorry miguel, i shouldn’t have avoided you” you mutter, miguel shakes his head “no- you don’t apologise. im sorry, im so so so sorry that i said all that shit and let them get to me, im sorry i made you believe it.”

#miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderverse x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #peter parker #miguel ohara

[princesssmars]

she can fight.

an abby anderson x reader

while out on an outing with your girlfriend, some vloggers decide to make you their next target. luckily your girlfriend can handle it.

wc: 792

contains: cursing sorry im a sailor. reader is described to have hair. those stupid vloggers youtubers whatever that go up to people and ask dumb ass questions. said bloggers hitting on you icky. abby being a sweet bodyguard girlfriend. me being obsessed with her.

a/n: i haven't been this obsessed with a white woman since my vi phase of early 2022 nobody look at me.

you had thought prior to this point that you were a moderately lucky person. you had a loving family and friends, a caring and incredibly attractive girlfriend, and if she and most other people on campus had any say, you were pretty fucking hot. so in short, life was pretty good. until today.

abby was the one to ask you to come with her today, telling you how she needed some new gear and clothes for sports and working out. you weren't gonna say no to spending some more time with your girlfriend, especially when she offered to buy you a new purse.

after a bit of shopping in the outdoor mall, you start to feel a bit hungry right as abby says she has to use the bathroom. you tell her that you're just going a minute's walk away to catch you both a quick bite to eat, the blonde reminding you of her favorite order and ruffling your hair before she walks away laughing at your pout.

so you're sitting at a table in the square, already indulging in your meal and sneaking a quick bite of abby's when you feel a quick tap on your shoulder. turning around, you're met with two boys, one further back with a camera that seems to be recording and another who seemed to be the tapping culprit who has his phone up to his mouth.

"hey, do you mind if we ask you a few questions?" he asks, pointing the phone in your direction. you'd seen people like this on tiktok before, coming up to people in public and annoying them. normally you wouldn't be for it but you decided to indulge them since you were getting pretty bored waiting for abs.

"no problem, fire away."

at first, the questions are weird but simple. basic ones like "how many stars are on the flag?" and "what's the craziest thing you've done in the past year?". throughout the questions, you noticed your interviewer constantly and not at all subtly checking you out, and you weren't surprised he couldn't detect how you were steadily becoming more pissed off. after a particularly dumb question you put an end to it, telling the boy how you need to get back to your snacking.

right when you turn away to sit back down you feel a hand grip your arm, your face completely bewildered at the audacity of this man to touch you. he seems to notice your unease and lets up slightly before asking, "can we just ask one more question?"

frankly done with his bullshit but now wanting to piss him off and get yourself into trouble, you relent with a sigh through your nose and nod your head.

"can your boyfriend fight?"

it takes everything in you to hold back your laugh but you fail, a surprised giggle falling past your lips. the guy seems to take it as you giggling like he's being charming and it makes you laugh harder. you calm yourself down enough to answer when you feel a familiar presence behind you along with the scent of pine and you can't help but smirk.

"nope, but her girlfriend can."

the man's grip on your arm disappears so quickly you would have thought he had been burned and the scared look on his face is one you definitely won't be forgetting soon. abby's arm wraps around your waist as she tugs you against her body away from the vloggers, who are currently stumbling over themselves and apologizing to her for hitting on you.

"dont apologize to me, morons, apologize to her." she scoffs, already sick and tired of talking to these people who had the audacity to hit on her girl so rudely. the boys quickly do as she says, apologizing for bothering you before taking their leave to probably bother some other poor soul.

you turn in abby's arm, ready to laugh about the encounter when her other large hand cups your cheek and brings your lips to hers in a passionate kiss. its so quick you barely get to kiss her back before she pulls away, smiling down at your dazed face with that stupidly sweet but smug look on her face.

"you feelin' alright there, baby?"

you nod your head slowly which only goes to amuse her more, the girl grasping your hand in hers as she sits down at your previous little table and pulls you into her lap, ignoring your whines about pda as she asks you to feed her some of her fries since she can tell you ate some already.

the rest of the day was spent giggling and spending time with your sweet idiot-repellant girlfriend, so maybe your luck was turning for the better.

.

.

.

if i don't meet an abby clone in college i will literally eat 800 apple seeds

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us x reader #abby anderson fluff

[nekropsii]

i think theres a really big issue in the community specifically surrounding the people who headcanon dave as some sort of trans where both sides of the coin seem to hate each other? like both sides are at fault here, ive seen blogs demeaning people who like transmasc dave and then like you said other people just completely disregarding transfem dave. guys. can we stop. let people headcanon what they want without blatantly attacking them, this goes for all parties in this issue. i dont get why people act like this. the fuck happened to all trans people being equal and then we get both transmisoginy and harassment of people liking either of the trans headcanons?

jesus man. im tired of it

Respectfully, I do not think this is a “Both Sides” situation.

The concept of transmasc Dave is objectively one of the most popular headcanons in the Homestuck fandom, and it has been for years. I think I can excuse people who headcanon transfem Dave for “hating it”, because as I have been trying to fucking say this entire time, people keep correcting me on my own posts about transfem Dave on my own blog, and belittling me for thinking this way. And since I’ve asked people to maybe interrogate why they feel the need to correct me and patronize me and to stop fucking doing that, I’ve been getting inundated with people trying to mansplain and traumadump to me how me saying to not correct me and patronize me for having a transfem headcanon is oppressing them and that trans men also have it bad, as if I literally ever insinuated that they do not have it tough.

You do not get to “Both Sides” me on a discussion about my experience when I have never - and I mean NEVER - received this level of heat for headcanoning a character as literally anything else. I have NEVER gotten “corrected” for headcanoning a character as gay, or transmasculine, or black, or a lesbian - only now, when I headcanon a character as a trans woman, am I getting people correcting me, condescending me, telling me some really fucking personal traumas to explain to me I’m “in the wrong” for being upset about the correction and condescension, very obviously making assumptions about my sex, gender, and what I’ve been through in my life, making negative assumptions about my intelligence, and putting a fuck ton of words in my mouth.

I am speaking from my own experience here. I am sorry if that hurts anyone’s feelings, but that much cannot be taken from me. From my experience, this is not “Both Sides”, this is very clearly one side with far greater numbers giving another flack for not assimilating, and when that other side tries to say what’s going on, they’re treated as an aggressor, and treated like a petulant idiot child.

Before anyone puts any more words in my god damn mouth:

I literally never said no one could HC Dave as transmasculine, or that they were wrong for thinking that way. I have outright said the opposite, that it is fine and that I do not care. HOWEVER, I sure as hell am experiencing people telling me that I am wrong for HCing her as a woman.

I literally never, and I mean NEVER, said or insinuated that trans men do not suffer, especially under the patriarchy. I am not an idiot, I know how the patriarchy works, it hurts literally everyone that doesn’t conform to an incredibly, incredibly narrow white non-queer cishetero male ideal. I am also not an idiot, I know that transphobia will exist no matter what you identify as, and it will suck absolute horseshit. Neither “side” has it “easy”, every type of transphobia has an uncomfortably, terrifyingly high body count. I never fucking said trans men do not have it hard. Stop putting those words in my mouth.

Literally all I said was that it’s fucking weird that I’ve never been treated this way until I headcanoned a character as a trans woman, and maybe to interrogate that because people sure seem comfortable acting this way, and that-

This is Transmisogyny.

And if there’s anything else I’ve learned from this, it’s that-

HIT DOGS HOLLER.

#homestuck #cw transphobia #cw transmisogyny #nekro.sms

[stawpny]

Gov, after New York said something completely out of pocket: I sometimes wonder what goes on in your head. It keeps me up at night.

New York: I don’t like that you think about that.

(pause)

New York, again: I don’t like that you think about me.

—

(1950’s)

Massachusetts: No, York, you can’t do that, fucking dumbass

New York, really quickly: onlyredbloodedcommunistssaywhat

Massachusetts, puzzled: what?

New York: HE’S A COMMUNIST!! HIM!

—

Random Person: I can show you a magic trick!

Massachusetts: Really? Show me.

Random Person: Is this your card?

Massachusetts, horrified and frantically pointing at the person: WITCH!! WITCH!

—

Young New Jersey: Well, York’s got a bad case of “stupid disease” that unfortunately gets worse as the days go on.

Pennsylvania, almost losing it: What?

Young New York: Stop telling everyone I’m stupid! I am not stupid-

Young New York: OHMYGODAKITTY!!

Young New Jersey, overdramatic : What did I say? It’s so hard to see such a young child suffer.

—

Gov: Tell me truthfully, how old do I look?

California, a people pleaser: You look not a day older than 24!

Texas, an honest soul: Around 32-ish?

Florida, the one who’s whole purpose is to flex his age: You look like you’re 10 to me.

Louisiana, who is too drunk to say anything relatively normal: Uh.. 53! Yeah!

New York, too tired to care: You look fine. Can we get back to the meeting now?

—

New York, boasting about his height: You wouldn’t believe what it’s like to live with these short fuckers.

New York: I mean just look at them!

New York: It’s like im Snow White with the.. *counting* 9, sometimes 10, little dwarves. And they’re all the grumpy one!

New York, arguing: You about the same size of one of “Santa’s Little Helper” yet you don’t even help the fatass!

New York, still: You fucking elves. Go make toys or something.

—

credits: me!!

I’ve been thinking abt these for a while

sorry they’re very NY-centric 😿

oh yeah I’m alive btw

#wttt #wttsh #welcome to the statehouse #wttt new york #wttsh new york #wttsh headcanons #wttt headcanons #wttt incorrect quotes #wttsh incorrect quotes #wttt massachusetts #wttt new jersey #wttt gov #wttt main 5 #wttt pennsylvania #meow