#happy INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY to THE WOMAN OF ALL TIME

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

New Rule: Gender Apartheid | Real Time with Bill Maher

And finally, New Rule: if you're out protesting for a couple of hours wearing this...

... you have to go all the way and spend an afternoon running errands wearing one of these.

You can't side with the people who ruthlessly oppress women without at least getting a taste of what you're supporting.

Well, now that summer is here and the Hamas-backing college protesters have dispersed back to their summer internships at Goldman Sachs, I thought it might be a good time to say this: I actually admire your youthful idealism, and our world would be poorer without it. Much like your parents who just wasted 300 grand on that ignorance factory you call a college.

Not that I think it's your fault, being this poorly educated and morally confused. That takes a village. Shitty schools, overindulgent parents, social media, that priest who rubbed lotion on you.

But three cheers to you for at least having the impulse to seek a cause in something bigger than yourself. It's just that the one you picked, you missed the boat by a fucking mile.

But here's the good news. You want a cause? Cuz I totally got one for you. Apartheid. Yeah, apartheid, the thing you've been shouting about with Israel for months. Never mind that Israeli Arabs are actually full citizens. You learned that word from a 2 Chainz song and discovered that protesting South Africa's apartheid in the 80s was a righteous cause, and so it was. To this day, when celebrities are asked, who is the person they most admire, one name is always the safest choice.

So, naturally, when you heard that Israel was an apartheid state it gave you such a boner you literally pitched a tent.

You knew how wrong it was when tens of millions of South Africans had been treated like second class citizens just because of their race.

But here's the thing. Today, right now, hundreds of millions of women are treated worse than second class citizens. When you mandate that one category of human beings don't even have the right to show their face, that's apartheid. And it goes on in a lot of countries.

For the last couple years, women in Iran have been saying, "take this hijab and shove it." Because in 2022, a young woman named Mahsa Amini was arrested for wearing her mandatory hijab incorrectly and then died in police custody. And now security forces have killed over 500 people protesting her death and this obvious human rights violation. How about defunding those police?

Amnesty International says that, "Iranian authorities are waging a war on women that subjects them to constant surveillance beatings sexual violence and detention." What P. Diddy calls a hotel stay.

In Iran, MeToo isn't a movement, it's what a woman says when another woman says, my life sucks.

Yasmine Muhammad is a human rights activist who got married off to a Muslim man with fundamentalist views about women not exactly uncommon in the Muslim world. He forced her to wear the niqab all the time, including once beating her because she took her hijab off at home, because the apartment had a window through which people might see in. And this was in Vancouver.

Here's what Yasmine said about veiling.

"It just suppresses your humanity entirely. It's like a portable sensory deprivation chamber and you are no longer connected to humanity. You can't see properly. You can't hear properly. You can't speak properly. People can't see you. You can only see them. Just little things. Passing people on the street and just making eye contact and smiling, that's gone. You're no longer part of this world, and so you very quickly just shrivel up into nothing under there."

And that's my answer when someone says "Islamophobe."

Really, feminists? Come on, there's got to be a happy medium between a husband making his wife wear this, and a husband making his wife wear this.

I know 1619 was bad, but this is happening right now, right under your nose rings. And it's not just the clothes. 15 countries in the Middle East, including Gaza, have laws that require women to obey their husbands. Laws. Not just Harrison Butker's opinion.

And those societies also have guardianship laws, which means a woman needs permission from her husband to work, to travel, to leave the house, to go to school, to get medical attention. Nothing?

Honor killings, where women are murdered by their own fathers and-or brothers happen so frequently they can't even have an accurate account of how many.

In 59 countries, there are no laws against sexual harassment in the workplace, and many have no laws against domestic violence or spousal rape. 20 countries have marry-your-rapist laws. Multiple societies have laws about what jobs women can and can't do. Make a Barbie movie about that. 30 countries practice female genital mutilation, and 650 million women alive today were married as children.

Kids, if you really want to change the world and not just tie up Monday morning traffic, this is the apartheid that desperately needs your attention. Gender apartheid. This is what should be the social justice issue of your time. How about, from the river to the sea, every woman shall be free?

But in reality, it's not an issue at all. For one reason: the people who are doing it aren't white. I hate to have to be the one to break it to you kids, but non-white people can do bad things too. Now, white on black racism certainly has been of one of history's most horrific scourges. But also, it's true that in today's world being non-white means you can get away with murder.

So good on you kids for following your instinct to protest social injustice. Just remember, when it comes to finding a cause, pulling your head out of your ass is an important rite of passage.

==

They won't do it not just because it's Intersectionally inconvenient, but also because it would require admitting that, as citizens of first world countries and students of Ivy League universities, not only do they not live in a "patriarchy," but they're some of the freest, most privileged, most self-determining people who have ever lived in the world at any time, ever.

And, having spent decades crafting a narrative of being long-suffering and "oppressed," they'd have to surrender the significant social, political and economic capital that narrative affords, by fighting for women in Iran, Gaza, Afghanistan and other countries to have the same rights and privileges they take for granted. And regularly spit on.

#Bill Maher #Real Time with Bill Maher #pro palestine #college protests #student protests #feminism #western feminism #islam #hijab #Yasmine Mohammed #Iran #islamic regime #Mahsa Amini #iran protests #gender apartheid #apartheid #islam ruins everything #gaza strip #anti apartheid #this is islam #religion #religion is a mental illness #Youtube

[tvlandofficiall]

it's HER day (and her day, and her day, and her day...)

#ooc #the shifting mound #slay the princess #happy INTERNATIONAL WOMEN'S DAY to THE WOMAN OF ALL TIME #go play slay the princess. do it do it NOW

[inkskinned]

you're grabbing lunch with a nice man and he gives you that strange grimace-smile that's popular right now; an almost sardonic "twist" of his mouth while he looks literally down on you. it looks like he practiced the move as he leans back, arms folded. he just finished reciting the details of NFTs to you and explaining Oppenheimer even though he only watched a youtube about it and hasn't actually seen it. you are at the bottom of your wine glass.

you ask the man across from you if he has siblings, desperately looking for a topic. literally anything else.

he says i don't like small talk. and then he smiles again, watching you.

a few years ago, you probably would have said you're above celebrity gossip, but honestly, you've been kind of enjoying the dumb shit of it these days. with the rest of the earth burning, there's something familiar and banal about dragging ariana grande through the mud. you think about jeanette mccurdy, who has often times gently warned the world she's not as nice as she appears. you liked i'm glad my mom died but it made you cry a lot.

he doesn't like small talk, figure out something to say.

you want to talk about responsibility, and how ariana grande is only like 6 days older than you are - which means she just turned 30 and still dresses and acts like a 13 year old, but like sexy. there's something in there about the whole thing - about insecurity, and never growing up, and being sexualized from a young age.

people have been saying that gay people are groomers. like, that's something that's come back into the public. you have even said yourself that it's just ... easier to date men sometimes. you would identify as whatever the opposite of "heteroflexible" is, but here you are again, across from a man. you like every woman, and 3 people on tv. and not this guy. but you're trying. your mother is worried about you. she thinks it's not okay you're single. and honestly this guy was better before you met, back when you were just texting.

wait, shit. are you doing the same thing as ariana grande? are you looking for male validation in order to appease some internalized promise of heteronormativity? do you conform to the idea that your happiness must result in heterosexuality? do you believe that you can resolve your internal loneliness by being accepted into the patriarchy? is there a reason dating men is easier? why are you so scared of fucking it up with women? why don't you reach out to more of them? you have a good sense of humor and a big ol' brain, you could have done a better job at online dating.

also. jesus christ. why can't you just get a drink with somebody without your internal feminism meter pinging. although - in your favor (and judgement aside) in the case of your ariana grande deposition: you have been in enough therapy you probably wouldn't date anyone who had just broken up with their wife of many years (and who has a young child). you'd be like - maybe take some personal time before you begin this journey. like, grande has been on broadway, you'd think she would have heard of the plot of hamlet.

he leans forward and taps two fingers to the table. "i'm not, like an andrew tate guy," he's saying, "but i do think partnership is about two people knowing their place. i like order."

you knew it was going to be hard. being non-straight in any particular way is like, always hard. these days you kind of like answering the question what's your sexuality? with a shrug and a smile - it's fine - is your most common response. like they asked you how your life is going and not to reveal your identity. you like not being straight. you like kissing girls. some days you know you're into men, and sometimes you're sitting across from a man, and you're thinking about the power of compulsory heterosexuality. are you into men, or are you just into the safety that comes from being seen with them? after all, everyone knows you're failing in life unless you have a husband. it almost feels like a gradebook - people see "straight married" as being "all A's", and anything else even vaguely noncompliant as being ... like you dropped out of the school system. you cannot just ignore years of that kind of conditioning, of course you like attention from men.

"so let's talk boundaries." he orders more wine for you, gesturing with one hand like he's rousing an orchestra. sir, this is a fucking chain restaurant. "I am not gonna date someone who still has male friends. also, i don't care about your little friends, i care about me. whatever stupid girls night things - those are lower priority. if i want you there, you're there."

he wasn't like this over text, right? you wouldn't have been even in the building if he was like this. you squint at him. in another version of yourself, you'd be running. you'd just get up and go. that's what happens on the internet - people get annoyed, and they just leave. you are locked in place, almost frozen. you need to go to the bathroom and text someone to call you so you have an excuse, like it's rude to just-leave. like he already kind of owns you. rudeness implies a power paradigm, though. see, even your social anxiety allows the patriarchy to get to you.

you take a sip of the new glass of wine. maybe this will be a funny story. maybe you can write about it on your blog. maybe you can meet ariana grande and ask her if she just maybe needs to take some time to sit and think about her happiness and how she measures her own success.

is this settling down? is this all that's left in your dating pool? just accepting that someone will eventually love you, and you have to stop being picky about who "makes" you a wife?

you look down to your hand, clutching the knife.

#writeblr #this is a mashup of like 3 dates i accidentally went on lol #by that i mean that i was out with a woman on a date in 2 of these situations #and a man just. joined us. and we were too awkward to say anything while he tried to ''date'' me #& one was a longterm friend that i was like. you what???? #like he's nice he's a doctor and my mom was SO happy she was like raquel think about it #''it's a perfect love story you grew up together and reconnected as adults and like the same things and he's friends with ur brother #and his sister is one of ur close friends!!!'' #yes but alas. he is a boy . she only likes girls. can i make it any more obvious #anyway im tryna write about like the force of male attention being actually incredibly ingrained to women like we are SUPPOSED to like it #it's seen as the only important thing #even if ur gay #and it's a nuanced thing idk #and while rn i i.d. as lesbian #like .... it wouldn't be UNTRUE to say i am probably like ''cusp bisexual'' bc i CAN experience attraction to men bc like . #sexuality is fluid... #don't tell straight ppl tho bc they do not understand the concept that ppl don't necessarily need a solid everlasting label #they're like GET in the BOX #if ur gay & in boston i'm 30 and pretty please come kiss me. #(i usually only date older ppl sorry in advance tho)

[mountainsandmayhem]

Taste Her, Little Dove (18+)

Joel Miller x f!reader x female

Summary: Joel encourages you to indulge in your curiosities towards women.  CW: girl on girl (Happy International Women’s Day), oral (f!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, pet names (little dove, baby etc.), sub/domme dynamics, sort of voyeurism on Joel's part, male masturbation, lots of orgasms, one night stand AN: practice safe sex!! This is unprotected sex, be better than my writing! STI’s may be less likely in lesbian hookups but please use dental dams or gloves with a partner that you don’t know. Stay safe! Dividers by @saradika-graphics WC 3.6k

More Little Dove Here

You sit at the kitchen table, phone open in one hand reading an article, fresh morning coffee in the other. “What’s it like to go down on a girl?”

Joel almost chokes on his coffee, folding the corner of his newspaper down and looking at you over his reading glasses. 

“Jesus, babe. It’s 8 am!” His hair is tousled with sleep, still wearing just his boxers and a white t-shirt. 

“Didn’t realize 8 am was prude hour,” you joke. Cupping your hot coffee in both hands and inhaling the steam. 

“It’s just not what I thought was going to come out of your mouth.” He says with a laugh, putting the paper down and placing his glasses on top of it. “You never cease to amaze me, my love.”

“Well, I adopted Ellie in my second year of college, the first year I was too busy with classes. I didn’t get those wild college years. You know?” 

The sounds of the morning birds chirping merrily fills the kitchen for a moment while Joel looks at you. 

“Alright. I fucking love it. It’s powerful watching you fall apart as I lick you.” He smirks a little, a dimple forming in his cheek before he sips his coffee. 

“So the same way I feel when I give you a blow job?” You shrug. 

“I guess. I don’t know, the female anatomy is a lot more complex, but finding that right combination of licking and sucking, along with fingers. It’s like…” he trails off, thinking for a moment, “like a game of chess. Every time I go down on you it’s different. Sometimes you like the tip of my tongue to flick roughly, other times you like gentle kitten licks and lots of kisses. I almost have to read you and figure out the best way to win the game.” 

“Huh,” you suddenly feel a little insecure, he’s doing all that work and you - “I just do the same thing every time. Am I doing it wrong?”

“No babes,” he laughs, reaching across and taking your hand in his. His thumb caresses the smooth skin along the top of your hand. “Dicks are pretty easy. Grip them and move up and down. You are amazing at blow jobs.” 

He smiles at you and your gaze falls back to your phone. He picks up his glasses and paper and goes back to reading. After a few minutes, you break the silence. 

“How would you feel about me going down on a woman?” 

His eyes light up as he takes you in, he bites his cheek to stop the shit eating grin he can feel forming. “Go on….”

“I’m curious. I’ve never been with a woman.” 

“Ok,” he folds the paper up again. “Are you doing this for you? Is this something YOU want?” 

“Yes,” you say confidently. 

“Ok. So are you asking for a threesome? Because if I’m being honest, I don’t think I want to be with another woman.” 

“No! Oh god,” you try to stop your voice from sounding horrified, “I don’t want to see you with anyone.”

You’re quiet for a second before adding, “You know what, nevermind. I don’t like this.” 

“What baby?” He asks encouragingly. 

“I feel selfish. I’m going to ask you to let me indulge in my curiosities when there’s nothing in it for you but to watch. I’d want you there.” 

“Hey,” he stands and walks to your side of the table. He stops behind you, wrapping his strong arms around you and rests his chin on your shoulder. “You’re not being selfish. I don’t want to be with anyone else but I sure as fuck would watch you play with another woman.”

Finding a woman was surprisingly easy. After taking Joel’s advice, you put on a little red dress and the two of you headed to a bar near your house. Joel went in first and sat at a booth near the back, ordering himself a whiskey. After touching up your lipstick and fluffing your hair in the rearview mirror you strutted into that bar like you owned the place. Heels clicked on the floor as you walked over to the bar and ordered a martini. You sat there, eyes flicking around at the patrons, trying to make yourself look approachable. 

A gorgeous long-haired brunette woman was sitting across from you with an almost empty drink. This was your chance, you call the bartender over and ask him to send her a drink. As he walked over to her the music in the room seemed louder, and butterflies started to flutter around your stomach. But she took the drink and then came to sit with you. 

She agreed to let Joel sit in the wingback chair in the corner of your room. “I’m not interested though, lover boy. So you can watch but hands off.” 

Joel smirked at her, “Feelings mutual. I’m only interested in my Little Dove.” 

Now that the three of you are in your bedroom, you’re not as confident. She’s completely naked, you just a bra and panties, and Joel sitting in the dark corner, ankle resting on his knee. 

“Give me a colour, Little Dove.” 

“Green,” you say shakily, hands hanging by your sides and eyes dancing around the naked woman in front of you. She steps forward, linking her fingers with yours. You lean into her touch, the tip of your nose tracing down the bridge of hers. 

“Can I take your bra and panties off?” She whispers. You hear Joel stifle a groan, which encourages you to keep going. 

“Yes please,” your hands trail up her arms as she reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. The cool air pebbles your nipples as the garment falls to the floor.  Her soft lips find your neck, kissing towards the dip on your collarbone, her thumbs hooking into the waistband of your lacy panties. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper, hands sliding into her long hair, guiding her to your aching nipples. Her tongue flicks over one as she gets to her knees, panties slipping down along your thighs as she goes. You use her shoulder to balance you as you step out of your thong. 

“You’re so wet for me,” she hums, kissing up your thighs to your hip bones. You won’t survive if both she and Joel start talking, and that’s further solidified when Joel’s deep voice adds, “Good girl, Little Dove” from the corner of the room. 

Your body shutters as she stands, sucking a peaked nipple into her mouth. She sucks and licks, the other hand teasing your slit. Your head falls back and you gasp at the feeling of her. Being with a woman is so different from being with Joel. She’s soft, her hands are like silk as they move across you. 

“Get on the bed,” you moan. You swear you hear Joel’s breath become heavier as he watches you. When you glance towards him he’s in the same position, chin resting between his thumb and forefinger, elbow perched on the arm of the chair. He shoots you a wink before you climb into bed. She’s on her back, legs open for you and can’t help but lick your lips at the sight of her puffy pink pussy. She’s glistening for you and you swell with pride at how you made her like that. 

Laying on top of her you start kissing her lips and grind your hips into hers. She moans into your mouth, hands grabbing your ass. “I wanna lick your pussy,” she says between kisses, “please.” 

You already know she likes to be in control, it was part of your conversation at the bar and with Joel. The two of you roll in tandem, sheets tugging around you before she throws them off. A groaned ‘holy fuck’ floats across the room. Joel is loving this more than the two of you. 

She settles herself between your thighs, her warm breath hitting your clit, causing it to twitch. She stares up at you as you writhe underneath her, your eyes clamped shut. “Look at me,” she says, voice husky. 

You peel your eyes open, they flick to Joel and then settle on her. The bedside lamp casts warm lighting across her face. She’s truly quite beautiful and you can’t help but notice the similarities between her and Joel. Deep brown hair, and warm amber-coloured eyes, she licks her plush lips before teasing your clit with the tip of her tongue. Pleasure courses through your body and your hips buck forward involuntarily. 

“Sssh,” she hushes you gently, and one of her forearms comes to rest across your pelvis. “Do you like that?” 

“Y-yes,” you coo, “again. Please.” 

“Mmmm,” she hums, teasing you again before adding, “such good manners.” 

Little sparks fizzle across your whole body at her gentle caresses. So different from when Joel devours you. Her arm is slender and soft against your belly, no facial hair to tickle your inner thighs. You moan her name, hands tangling in the sheets as that ache builds. 

“You gonna cum for her, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is deep and thick with arousal. Your eyes flick back to him, he looks dangerous sitting in the dark like you’re the prey, which is exactly how you like it when it comes to Joel. The tongue between your legs stops and you cry out at the loss, “No, please.” 

She’s quickly up to be inline with you, one hand gripping your face under your chin, squeezing your cheeks slightly. You moan, yes being the prey is exactly how you like it. 

“Don’t look at him. You’re mine,” she kisses you hard before pulling back and adding, “Do you understand?” 

Joel's heavy breathing fills your ears and you can’t help but look at him. “Tsk, tsk,” she taunts and then turns to Joel. 

“I think she needs to be taught a lesson. Is that ok with you?” 

They’re wholly focused on each other, almost as if you aren’t even in the room. “My Little Dove will never learn,” he says, “what do you have in mind?” 

She glances back at you with a mischievous grin, “Come sit behind her and hold her down.” 

Joel stands, adjusting himself in his jeans as he walks over. The bed dips under his weight, he props a few pillows against the headboard before hooking his arms under you and pulling you flush against his chest. His hard cock throbbing against your lower back. 

She laughs at you, “can’t see him now. Can you?” 

You shake your head. “Answer your mistress, Little Dove,” Joel whispers in your ear in quiet demands. 

“N-no mistress,” you whisper. 

“That’s better,” she says, nails tickling your inner thighs. “Open your legs, he’s going to hold you open for me and I’m not stopping until you beg.” 

You swallow hard, Joel’s cock jumps before he reaches for your legs, strong hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling them towards your chest and encouraging you to open more. She dives in with much more hunger this time, lapping at your clit. 

You throw your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder. “Oh fuuuck, don’t stop.” 

She doesn’t listen, stopping abruptly and laying a quick slap on your inner thigh. Joel hisses in your ear and your eyes widen in shock and arousal. “Watch your mouth,” she says in a dark, commanding tone that you didn’t think a sweet looking woman like her was capable of. 

“Sorry, mistress.” The heat from her slap travels up your thigh to your pussy and it clenches around nothing. “Felt s’good,” you whine. 

“No swearing,” two of her fingers tease your entrance. “Good girls don’t say words like fuck,” her fingers slide into you and you bite your lip hard to stop from swearing and yelling and moaning. 

“Say yes mistress,” she taunts, curling her fingers forward. 

Joel’s strong arms hold you down, you’re completely at her mercy. “Ye - oh god - y-y-yes mistress.” 

“Do you wanna cum, baby?” Joel whispers as she continues teasing you, bringing the tip of her tongue to tickle your clit again. 

“Mmm-hmm,” you moan, turning your head to nuzzle into Joel’s neck. And your body tenses up into his grip. 

“Ask her nicely,” he says. 

“Mistress, fuuu-, can I cum?” It comes out in a high-pitched moan, you’re clenching so hard to not cum, teetering right on the edge. 

“Only if you scream my name while you do it,” she says in her demanding tone, working her fingers inside you faster. 

Joel’s thumbs rub little circles on your legs and after you relax into him you release. Pinned by Joel the orgasm runs through you hard and fast, and it’s over too soon, but she keeps going. That familiar tingle builds quickly again and before you’ve caught your breath you cum again, screaming her name over and over as you cum on her hand and mouth. 

She sucks your clit into her mouth. Stars start to light up in your vision, muscles start to hurt from how badly you’re shaking. As you start to cum again it all starts to feel like too much. “Stop. Stop. Please!” You beg. 

She releases your clit with a pop and slows her fingers. “Look at me sweet girl,” she coos. She smiles at you gently when you make eye contact, it's almost like looking at a completely different person from the woman who slapped your inner thigh just minutes ago, “Do you actually want me to stop.” 

“Yes, sorry. But yes.” You say, gasping for breath. 

She slides her fingers out and Joel releases your legs. They whisper to one another and Joel slides himself out from behind you and heads back to his chair. She pulls you into her arms, head resting on her soft breasts. No wonder Joel likes to cuddle up to you like this, it’s warm and inviting. You can hear her heart beating softly as she plays with your hair with one hand. The other draws little circles up and down the arm you’ve draped across her. 

It’s silent for a while before you start to giggle. 

“What’s so funny, Little Dove?” Joel’s voice is light. He’s used to this part when you come down from the high and have a feeling of comfort and elation. It might be his favourite part, especially now that he’s seeing it happening from the outside. Your cheeks are pink, and your hair is disheveled, but there’s a big happy grin on your face. 

“Fuck. That was….” You trail off, looking up into her brown eyes. “Well, that was amazing.” 

“Good,” she cranes her neck to kiss you lightly. 

“Umm, can I?” You ask, hand trailing down her body and stopping just above the slit of her pussy. You pout out your bottom lip at her, eyes turned soft and pleading. 

“Christ, lover boy.” She says to Joel but doesn’t break eye contact with you, “How do you ever say no to this sweet girl?” 

Joel chuckles from the corner. “I don’t.” 

You take her sly smile as a silent yes and climb on top of her, taking one of her nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while you use your knee to nudge her legs apart. Kneeling between her parted thighs you kiss across her chest to her other nipple, cupping her breast in your hands and massaging them gently. 

Hearing her little moans leave her lips is intoxicating. When Joel moans it’s usually deep and from his chest, but she’s so pliant to you right now, sweet, little high-pitched whimpers leaving her parted lips. 

You kiss down her body, gently nipping at her hip bone, a small squeak of surprise fills the room. You kiss the sore spot gently and settle yourself between her legs. Now that you’re this close to her pussy you are almost unsure of yourself. You swallow the lump building in your throat. Joel can see you hesitating. 

“Taste her, Little Dove,” he whispers. “Just place a long lick from the bottom to the top. Go slowly.” 

You place your tongue flat near the entrance and slowly slide your tongue up. She tastes amazing. Sweet with a hint of saltiness, she gasps and twitches as you hit certain spots. 

“Did you feel that, baby?” Joel asks. 

You nod your head and repeat the same lick, mapping out the spots that drive her wild. Once you have them figured out Joel speaks up again, “Good girl. Use the tip of your tongue and put more pressure on those spots. Swirl your tongue around them. Figure out what makes her twitch.” 

“Fuck this is so hot,” she whimpers as you follow Joel’s instructions. 

You swirl your tongue around her hardening clit, before lapping up the fresh wave of her arousal, moaning at the taste of her. She’s shifting underneath you, one of her hands tangling in your hair. 

“Tease her with your fingers, Little Dove. Slide one in, just a little while you lick her.” 

“Yesyesyes” she chants, breaths coming in quickly. The way her breasts rise and fall causes a throb in between your legs. You thought you were orgasmed out but she looks incredible. You slide your middle finger in, stopping at the first knuckle, curling it forward. She cries out, you aren’t ready for her to cum yet so you pull your tongue away and place little kisses around her mound, carefully avoiding the sensitive spots as you explore her more with your finger. 

“You’re so tight. Do you want me to use two?” You ask, sliding your finger in all the way. If you were Joel, you’d never want to be anywhere else than in between your legs. He was right, this is a feeling that can’t be described. There’s an almost overwhelming sense of power once you’ve figured out what they like and have relaxed enough to enjoy it. 

“Please. Oh god - yes please.” She’s almost mumbling the words between moans and when you slide your ring finger in with the middle her legs start to shake. 

“You gonna cum?” You ask, kitten licking at her clit. 

“Don’t stop,” she whines. You curl your fingers again hearing the squelching of how wet you’ve made her and then suck her hard little clit into your mouth. She calls your name out to the room, “Yes yes. Just like that. Fuuuuuck.” 

You can feel her cunt tightening around your fingers. “Stay at the pace, Little Dove. You’re doing so well.” Joel’s voice seems thicker and you wonder if he’s touching himself, but you keep your focus on her. She looks like a goddess in the dim lighting of the room, head thrown back and mouth open, calling out your name through her moans. You feel the wetness between your thighs growing. 

“I’m gonna cum,” she cries before you feel her pussy spasm around your fingers. You keep your pace the same, curling your fingers forward and tracing the edges of her pulsing clit. You’ll go until she says to stop, even if your jaw is starting to cramp. You feel drunk watching her, this is so much better than you could have imagined. 

“Ride me,” she says, squirming out of your grasp. She straightens one leg and you crawl up, straddling yourself around her raised leg, hooking her knee in your arm across your body. The wetness between the two of you is magical, sliding your clits against each other. 

You can see Joel now, he shifts in the chair as he removes his jeans, freeing his cock from his boxers. He spits in his palm and starts to stroke himself in time with the two of you. 

“Does that feel good?” She asks, bringing your eyes back to her. 

You nod, biting your bottom lip as the tension behind your belly button starts to build. You grind your hips in slow circles as she moves back and forth, both of you growing wetter. 

“God your pussy feels so good against mine,” you moan between her gasps. “You’re making such a mess.” 

She wraps her hands around your hips and pushes you down onto her hard, grinding into you faster as both of you start to breathe heavier. “Don’t fuck stop,” she whines. 

“So needy. This little pussy,” you say. You’re not entirely sure what’s come over you, Joel’s ragged breaths from his chair fill you with encouragement, he loves hearing you talk dirty to her. “Wanna cum all over your tight cunt.” 

You hear Joel’s breathing jump, glancing over to see him spilling into his hand. The tension in your stomach snaps, and you look back at her as the two of you cum together, grinding sloppily. The sounds of your wet pussy’s rubbing together and your moans and squeals are the only thing you can hear. 

You both ride it out together, you feel like you’ve been cumming for hours by the time it slows. Both of you calming your movements. You kiss her kneecap before falling to the bed beside her, the two of you gasping for breath. Joel sits quietly, smiling over at you. 

“Fuck,” she says after a few minutes of silence. “Are you sure you aren’t a lesbian?” 

You and Joel both laugh. “I think it’s safe to say that my Little Dove is bisexual.” 

You giggle to the ceiling and then look towards her, “I think it’s safe to say that I’m only straight for Joel Miller.” 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @wannab-urs

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedrohub #joel x reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro is daddy #daddy joel #joel x f!reader #joel x female reader #joel x y/n #joel x oc #joel x you #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x original character #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #soft!joel miller #soft joel miller #dom!joel miller

[sebscore]

Please write something with drivers praising female f1 driver during March because it’s womens history month. Anytime something bad happens to her on the grid she’s like someone hitting her car “how could they during womens history month 😞😧”

INTERNATIONAL WOMEN’S DAY

pairings: daniel ricciardo x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / small lando cameo

warnings: none?

author’s note: I know it’s not the entire month, but I saw lewis’ post for Stephanie and I couldn’t shake the thought of him making a special post for our gen z driver 🥺 I hope you like it, my darling!

masterlist

• • • • • • •

“Have you seen Daniel’s new post on Insta?” Her performance coach asked her, scrolling through his own phone while they took a break.

Y/N shook her head, not having been on the social media app that day. “No, why?”

“He talks about you.” He grinned, handing his phone over to her with the post ready on the screen.

Daniel had updated his Instagram with a clip of an interview he had done, where he’s asked about which women in his life inspire him.

He starts off by speaking about his grandmothers and their move from Italy to Australia. Daniel also mentions his mother and the support she has given him.

“From an athletic point of view, there’s 2 people that come to mind. My, uh, former colleague and friend, Y/N Y/L,” he laughed, “her entire story on how she came into Formula 1 is very inspiring and she has brought a lot of positive change into the sport,”

“But she’s also a great person and she always has something incredible to say,” Daniel teased his younger friend, “so, yeah, Y/N is definitely an inspiration to me.”

The woman had a soft smile on her face throughout watching the entire video, touched by Daniel’s words.

She gave her coach’s phone back and grabbed her own from her bag, deciding to leave a comment under Daniel’s post.

YourUsername I didn’t even have to force you to say this 😭 thank you, Dan! 💙

A mere hours later, she had seen multiple notifications of people tagging her in a post Lewis had made. She opened the app again and saw an entire post dedicated to her made by the World Champion himself.

lewishamilton Beside Stephanie, I also want to highlight the journey of @/yourusername. I’ve been privileged to watch her make history as the first female driver to stand on a F1 podium, to grab pole position and to win a Grand Prix. Y/N, thank you for all the work you do and continue to do. You use your platform well and I can’t thank you enough for standing by me in the causes that I feel passionate about. I’m excited to continue to follow your journey. Happy #InternationalWomensDay to you, thank you Y/N.

Y/N felt emotional reading Lewis’s message. She had idolized the driver ever since she was a little girl and to have him appreciate and acknowledge her hard work means the world to her.

YourUsername thank you so much, Lewis! 🖤 not you making me cry on international women’s day 😭 this should be illegal

— lewishamilton ❤️

The official F1 Instagram account had also made a post dedicated to the female driver which had been reposted by several drivers on their Instagram stories like George, Carlos, Valtteri, Esteban and even Lando.

The McLaren driver had called her “my goat 🐐” in his caption, something that had made her chuckle.

The best message she had gotten for the special day, came from none other than Sebastian Vettel.

It was a shock to her when the German send her a text message as she hadn’t heard from him in a while, she figured he wanted the time for himself and his loved ones.

SEB VETTEL

Happy International Women’s Day, Y/N! Congratulations on P2 in Bahrain, a great start to the season. I hope you’re doing well and that you had a good winter break!

Today I was reminded of the amazing journey you’ve had since your karting days. I am honored that I have been able to watch you grow as a woman from so close. I’m very proud of you and I’ll keep supporting you, even if I’m not there as much anymore.

I hope you have a great day and I wish you the very best!

Big kiss! X

She send him a message back, thanking him for his beautiful words and asking him how he’s been doing. They send a few texts back and forth, updating each other on their lives.

Y/N also decided to pay a tribute on social media, posting several pictures of herself with the caption:

YourUsername happy international women’s day to myself, cause I’m the best woman I know ❤️‍🔥

#f1 fic #f1 fics #f1 x reader #formula 1 fic #f1 x oc #lewis hamilton x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #sebastian vettel x reader

[nejiverse]

JUST ANOTHER DAY

[Hayakawa family series]

Just your average day in the Hayakawa household. Pregnant fem! Reader

cw: none i can think of, aki denji and power literally hurling insults at each other 😆

700ish words

It was way too damn quiet for Aki.

Usually when he got back, Power and Denji were doing some crazy shit like jumping from the couch onto the ceiling or chasing each other with knives....but not today.

It was such a weird feeling that he couldn't help but think of the worst case scenario.

He took in a deep breath, preparing himself to lose the little sanity he had left.

But what he saw was the complete opposite.

Y/n sat on the floor crossed legged while Power and Denji painted little drawings onto her baby bump.

"You're taking up all the space idiot!", Power complained to Denji who left barely any space on Y/n's stomach for her to paint.

"Yeah well first come first serve", he spat his tongue out at her, causing her to grit her teeth.

Y/n noticed Aki's presence and smiled up at him.

"Welcome back love", she greeted while Aki returned her gleeful smile, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. He gets so happy when he sees her that it made Denji chuckle. Y/n was his weakness.

"Why are you laughing", Aki grimaced.

"Nothing at all", Denji shrugged his shoulders with a smirk.

Aki rolled his eyes, picking up the paint to make sure it was the right type of body paint that wasn’t harmful to the skin or anything. Y/n could be careless at times. "It better be nothing. I feed you".

The two boys had a glaring contest amongst themselves before Y/n finally interrupted them.

"Can I see now?", she asked as Power and Denji scooched back.

Power crossed her arms over her chest with a proud look on her face, albeit her painting being indecipherable.

"It's Meowy!", she exclaimed.

Y/n clapped her hands with a smile.

"It's lovely!".

Aki and Denji could only sweatdrop at the two women fawning over a white patch of paint.

"Hey sorry to break it to ya two but that's just a white blob", Denji revealed.

"Oh yeah? Then what did you paint smartass?", Power huffed.

Denji jumped up as if he'd been waiting for this moment his whole life.

"It's Aki with Pochita's body", he snickered.

When Y/n was around, the boy could get away with literally anything, she was like his shield from Aki.

"You ungrateful brat—", before Aki could get his hands on Denji, Y/n furrowed her brows at him followed by a warning look.

"Hey be nice, I for one think it's cute", Y/n voiced.

The man merely slumped his shoulders with a loud sigh, poor guy was getting bullied in his own home.

“I’ll be nice once they both start paying the bills..”, he muttered to himself.

Both Power and Denji stood up from the floor, the latter stretching his arms out.

"I'm hungry, make food", Power demanded. She then remembered what Y/n told her about when asking for something. "...please", she spoke in a low voice.

"Can I actually try cooking dinner for once", Denji asked. It seemed fun even though he may not be good at it.

Correction, not good at it at all.

"Not a chance", they all responded back in unison.

Damn 😓

Denji went to sulk in the corner while Aki went off to do what he did best.

"....I can't believe you'd leave the woman carrying your child to get up herself", Y/n placed a hand on her heart as if she'd just been shot.

Aki internally scolded himself for forgetting that it was hard for her to get up by herself these days, he quickly made it to her side and helped her up.

"Im sorry", he enveloped her in a hug and plastered kisses all over her face, earning a giggle from her and and bunch of 'ews' from Denji and Power.

“You’re gross!”, Power spoke.

An irk mark formed on Aki’s forehead. “You’re one to be talking about what’s gross or not when you don’t flush the damn toilet—”.

Aki 1 - Power 0

Masterlist :)

A/N: please don’t leave spoilers cause I’m an anime only for now, when I actually have time i’ll read the manga😭😭

And thank ya’ll for 600 followers i fucking love you guys 🫶

#chainsaw man #aki hayakawa #aki #aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #csm #chainsaw man x you #chainsaw man x y/n #chainsaw man x reader #csm x you #csm x reader #aki fluff #aki hayakawa fluff #hayakawa family #power #chainsaw man power #csm power #denji #denji hayakawa #power hayakawa #makima

[midnightarsenal]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞

Summary: Some old tweets come out and it puts you between a rock and a hard place.

Warning: Internalized Homophobia

Word Count: 2.6k

Arsenal Training Centre, St. Albans

///

You could sense the tension in the air before you'd even stepped through the doors.

...

The past few days had made you a bit of a nervous wreck. The result of some Sam Kerr fan account on Instagram posting a collection of old tweets you'd made nine years ago, back when you were 13.

Old, profoundly homophobic tweets.

And while some fans, mostly those already partial to you, had taken that substantial amount of time and your youth into account, many others had not. Instead, they hurled abuse alongside calls for the club to drop you at the earliest possible opportunity. You'd even tried disabling comments on your most recent social media posts before quickly realizing that the comments would simply move to older ones. Despite how bad some of them had become, you still found yourself not quite willing to disable the comments on every post you had ever made.

It was your own fault anyway. You had been signed by Arsenal a few months ago, having spent the years before that going from one mediocre team to the next until your international performance in Australia had seemingly caught the attention of several larger clubs, the Gunners included. You'd been positively over the moon when your management agency had called to give you the good news. It should have been your big break, and for a period of time, it was, but a position in such a prestigious club came with a level of increased publicity that you hadn't been fully prepared for.

You knew that you should have purged your Twitter before the contract had even been made public, but you'd long forgotten about those posts, those awful comments, and bigoted 'jokes' that your massively insecure thirteen-year-old self had felt the need to put out into the world to try and convince everyone that you were certifiably straight. To convince yourself in some deluded way that you did not frequently lose sleep over the increasingly intrusive and borderline distressing thoughts that plagued you every time you were around some of your friends at school and the teammates at your youth football academy.

Those thoughts just hadn't been you, of course. Because you were straight.

Or, at least that's what thirteen-year-old you had wanted to think at the time.

In the teenage years that followed those tweets, you had eventually been able to come to terms with your sexuality. It had been a slow, long, and painfully drawn-out process, but while the influence of your conservative family had worked to reinforce the close-minded worldview you had been raised with, being around so many openly gay women in your football career had ultimately proven to be a much stronger force in your life. To see that contrary to what you had been told, these supposedly evil and degenerate people were in fact perfectly ordinary and typically far kinder than the 'just' and 'moral' types you had been surrounded by in your childhood.

But, while you had gradually been deprogrammed from the more outwardly hostile and bigoted elements of how you'd been brought up, you had never quite gotten around to being proud of who you were, to being able to let yourself embrace what you felt and to let yourself be happy. Even today, all these years later, you still struggled to imagine yourself feeling the warmth of another woman, a woman you could love as more than just a friend, and a woman who you could feel comfortable telling the world about.

So, you had simply tried to ignore your feelings. Even as you went from teenager to adult and semi-professional to professional, you resigned yourself to a world in which love was an impossibility, where every teasing question from a friend about your romantic endeavors was expertly deflected with a non-committal answer and a change of topic.

You had learned to be happy for the women in your life who were openly gay and celebrated their relationships sincerely like a good friend would, but you could never deny yourself the reality that every time a close friend announced their new partner, you would feel a twinge of remorse, pain that was sourced from fleeting, quickly suppressed thoughts of a life not lived, an opportunity not taken, and a romance denied its potential. It was a sad way to live, but as sad as it was, the thought of telling the world that you were gay was even worse. It had always been worse.

...

And so now, as the sliding doors of the training centre's lobby parted, you found it a difficult task to keep your nerves from becoming overwhelming.

Management had already spoken to you about the tweets and the response on social media to them. Fortunately, no proper news outlet had put out an article on the 'situation' yet, but the club's PR people had seemed pretty nervous that eventually, one of them would. You'd told them that you hadchanged since you were thirteen and that you'd be more than willing to put out an apology. But, ultimately, their advice had been for you to simply stay quiet and hope it all went away on its own. Something that you had been less than thrilled to hear, as if you were ever confronted by a scenario in which it didn't just go away on its own, and eventually you were told to put out an apology, it would likely be too late by the time that you did.

"Morning, Y/N." you were taken away from your thoughts by the young woman at the front desk, Catherine. She was smiling, but you could tell it was a bit of a sympathetic smile, like the woman was trying to show that she was on your side. You appreciated the sentiment, of course, but being treated differently at all because of this was only making your nerves worse.

"Heya." you tried to greet back casually with a smile of your own, and despite your best efforts, it came across as an 'I know' type of smile, a visual confirmation that you acknowledged what had been happening on the Internet these past few days, and her small attempt to make you feel better.

You had almost passed her, ready to head deeper into the large facility when you abruptly stopped and asked, "Any of the other girls here before me?" To which the shorter woman behind the desk nodded, her demeanour steady in its sympathy towards you, knowing why you would be asking. After all, you were on a team with two gay relationships within it, let alone the number of players who just swung that way in general. And aside from the occasional joke or tease (the latter of which often hurt you to an extent that none of your new friends could possibly know), you were pretty certain that none of them actually thought you were a part of that category.

None of the girls had messaged you in the past twenty-four hours, which, while a little uncommon, wasn't an immediate tell that you had been made a pariah. The last message you'd gotten had been from Steph asking if you were available for a coffee date on Saturday, and that had been just over a day ago. Late enough to have been after that stupid account had posted those screenshots, but early enough to have been before many people knew about it.

Fuck, this was really getting to you.

You continued your way down the corridors of the training centre, each heartbeat feeling a little heavier than the last as you drew closer to the locker room. Knowing that at least a few of the girls would be there this early in the morning, getting changed or having a shower or just socializing as they waited for others to arrive. You wondered if they were talking about you, and if they were, what they were saying. You were wondering if they had already agreed to shun you, or even speak to Jonas about getting rid of you. Fuck, this was fucking getting to you.

You gripped the handle of the bag slung over your shoulder a little tighter as you approached the locker room and took a breath before opening the door, a hundred different scenarios having crossed your mind from the time you'd left the lobby to now.

Stepping into the locker room, the atmosphere was a stark contrast to what you had braced yourself for. It was business as usual—some of the girls were chatting casually, others were prepping their gear. For a fleeting moment, you allowed yourself the hope that perhaps they hadn't seen those tweets or had chosen to ignore them.

But as you made your way to your locker, you could feel eyes on you. Some were quick glances, laced with uncertainty or curiosity, while others held longer, more contemplative stares. No one said anything directly, but the air was thick with unspoken questions and possible conclusions. It was hard to tell.

You kept your head down, focusing on getting ready. The sound of your locker door clanging shut seemed to echo louder than usual, and as you changed into your training gear, you pondered over your next steps. Ignoring the issue didn't feel right, but neither did addressing it without a plan.

"Hey," just then, your attention was taken by the sound of a voice that you quickly recognized as Katie's, her Dublin twang thick as always. The defender's expression was hard to read as she approached, and she sat down next to you, continuing after you replied, "Morning." Your voice was small, and your throat tightened a little, Katie was one of the closer friends you'd made in your somewhat limited time at the club, and her opinion mattered to you.

"Listen, I heard about the tweets," she started, and while you braced yourself for what might come next, you couldn't help but notice her tone being somewhat gentler than you'd expected, but still straightforward. "And, I wanted to say..." she continued, and you felt your heart beat a little bit faster. But, then she stopped, if only for a few seconds, and frowned slightly, though seemingly more to herself than to you. She looked like she was thinking about something, something about you, perhaps.

"Well, I don't know what I wanted to say exactly... but I'm here if you want to talk, or if you need anything, really."

Wait.

What?

You must have had a look on your face because the Irishwoman spoke up again. "Like, if you have anything you wanna get off your chest. I'm here for you, all of the girls are." She remained gentle, but you could tell that heart-to-hearts weren't exactly Katie's style (not that this surprised you) from the way she looked a little awkward, but her sincerity remained all the same.

Breathing just the slightest bit faster, it took you another second or two before you replied, "A lot of the girls?" One of your brows lifting curiously. Was... she implying what you were beginning to think she was implying?

Did Katie know think you were gay?

"Yeah. We care about ya, dummy. And unless you really are some horrible bigot, nothing you say is gonna change that." Katie smiled at that remark and you couldn't help but reflect her, shaking your head lightly in response. "I'm not," you confirmed, your eyes connecting with Katie's. "I was just... different then... I was—" You went to continue, but cut yourself off, your breath almost hitching as you caught yourself at the last moment from finishing that sentence.

I was afraid.

You could virtually see the defender's gaze softening on you in real time and you couldn't bear the sight of it anymore, glancing away and turning your attention to your shoes. The locker room around the pair of you was beginning to fade into the backdrop, although you got the feeling that it hadn't just been Katie's eyes on you. Even as you observed the details of your trainers, you could practically feel the woman next to you's gaze wandering off every few moments to the others in the room, maybe looking for assistance, or trying to convey her unspoken suspicion.

"You were what?" You heard, and this time it wasn't Katie who spoke. It was Beth, who was standing a short distance away by her own cubby. Immediately proving that your heart-to-heart with Arsenal's number 15 hadn't been quite so exclusive, and the locker room's sudden silence ironically brought it right back to the forefront of your attention. Everyone was listening, and many of them staring as well. Was this what they had been talking about before you'd shown up? Had they been in here putting together dots you hadn't known existed? A longing gaze you hadn't suppressed or one too many comments about the eyes or legs of another woman that you'd thought would simply slip under the radar as casual observation? Were those tweets the final confirmation they needed?

Was this the supposed 'gaydar' you had heard about?

"Nothing." you retorted swiftly, shaking your head again as you reached into your locker to resume getting dressed. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact you'd stopped when Katie had come over to talk to you, but the girls didn't seem intent on letting this moment slip away, and you could see Beth approach from your peripheral vision even as you tried to focus on getting changed. You were beginning to almost feel trapped, though you were certain that the culprit behind that particular feeling was more likely to be yourself than your teammates.

"Y/N, we're your friends." Beth said, kneeling down to eye level, while Katie still sat beside you, staring into the side of your head with an expression that was unusually gentle and almost unnervingly so. You still couldn't look at her without feeling your throat close up.

"Trust me... none of us are going to react like how that silly little brain of yours thinks we might." she continued softly and with a warm smile, and now you knew. You knew that they knew.

Your head tilted slightly up to look at Beth, who was now squatted a small distance from you, hands clasped together and blue eyes looking right into your own. You could still sense the looks of the other girls on you too, only now you didn't feel that they were judging, far from it actually. Your leg bounced up and down nervously, and you didn't even have it in you to try to stop it. You felt like you wanted to cry. Why was this so hard? Even now, when it was clear that everyone in the room knew. You just couldn't say it.

Your eyes started to glisten as the first tears threatened to push their way out, and you gave Beth a small, sad smile. Your throat began to hurt in the way that only a sob—or an imminent one—could provoke.

"I think you know already." you finally managed to get out, your voice as small as your presence in that room, and Beth only nodded. You could see some of the other girls nod too, but you were distracted by the feeling of Katie's hand taking your own and clutching it safely. A breath escaped you and it was shaky, uncertain, afraid.

"Yeah, I think we do, pet." the forward replied, closing the gap between you and pulling you in for a hug, her arms finding themselves at home wrapped around your torso. It was as if she'd given you permission to cry, the tears finally beginning to flow, as you buried your head into the other woman's shoulder, quietly sobbing into the fabric of her Arsenal jacket. Katie's hand tightened around your own, and you heard the sound of cleats and shoes closing in around you. You weren't sure how you were going to deal with this new reality moving forward, this world in which people other than yourself knew of your sexuality, but at least you wouldn't be alone.

///

End Notes: Hope you liked this one, guys! I promise not all of my fics will be angsty! I'm also in the process of writing an OC for a self-contained multi-part storyline. But, with how busy I've been with uni, who knows whether I'll actually finish it or not. Thanks for reading!

#woso #awfc #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fanfics #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #katie mccabe #beth mead #arsenal wfc x reader

[pablitogavii]

i miss ur weekly uploads 🫶🫶😭😭

I'm sorry :/ I'm trying to get back to writing more <3 This is just for you ❤️

His special woman

"I'm so sorry I can't be with you tonight mi amor..but you know that you're the most important woman in my life" Pablo said on face time while you smiled blushing and nodding your head.

He was traveling to show support to his team that is experiencing a really hard season since Xavi announced he's leaving. You of course understood that Gavi was the heart of the team, but seeing other women with their partners made you sad that he's not here with you.

The bell rang and you ran to open with Pablo still on your phone screen smirking to himself. You were shocked to see a big bouquet of flowers standing in front of your door with a little letter attached.

"Amor..these are so beautiful" you say showing it to him and he nods telling you to bring them inside and open the note.

"Read it to me guapa.." he said and you blushed placing the basket on the kitchen counter before opening little pink envelope.

"Happy international women's day to mi amor precioso. I love you with all my heart and you're my special woman." you read with red cheeks smiling at him and sending him kisses he pretended to catch on the other side.

y.n.bebe

amore mio❤️

comentarios:

pablogavi:❤️

mikkykiemeney:😍

pablogavihater: he's not even with his woman for march 8th..so much love 😂😂

y.n.fake.account: she's getting flowers but not his attention cause he prob with other girls!

lola.bb: yeah with me ;))

y.n.queen: keep dreaming! 😂

y.n.pablo.gavi: people are so mean 🥺 pablo bought her flowers! leave them alone!!

gavi.pablo: all players were with their women today but Pablo didn't even go to see her after training lololol

You read comments sadly looking at the flowers hating the fact that they made you doubt your relationship. It was just so hard...when everyone hates..and then that girl saying Pablo is with her..you were guilty enough to check her profile.

Pablo was seeing the same comments and knowing what an over thinker his girl is, he immediately changed his plans with the boys.

"I'm sorry, míster. But something important came up..I will travel tomorrow and be there for the game? Bueno?" he said and the man understood already having other players do the same in order to spend the day with their wives. Xavi admired Gavi for treating his girlfriend like so.

You were just about ready to make yourself some dinner when a loud knock startled you. You opened shocked to see Pablo standing there in his suit...this man owns your heart!

"P..Pablo? Pero how are you here?" you mumble and he grabbed your face kissing your lips passionately.

"Get ready, and let's shut them all up amor" he said and you smiled knowing what he was talking about. He wanted to prove them all wrong and stick besides you.

"Pero..your trip?" you say unsure if this was a smart thing to do.

"I'll travel tomorrow morning..but tonight I'm with my special woman" he said and those words had your heart melting..how could anyone say no to that!?

"Don't worry, I'll get changed fast" you say and he smiled nodding and walking in to wait for you dolling up just for him. He smiled at the big bouquet of flowers you organized all around your shared apartment.

"Amor! Can you zip me up please?" you call from the bedroom and he smirked walking in and gasping at how breathtaking you looked right now..he was the luckiest man on eart!

"Ready to go princesa mia?" he said and you smile nodding and grabbing his hand. You went to one of your favorite restaurants in Barcelona, obviously "having reservation" because of who he is. He was Barca golden boy after all and that had it's perks.

"All of this because you wanted to shut up the haters.." you say holding his hands while waiting for desert really having enjoyed the entire night.

"No..to be with my special woman..and yeah to shut them all up because I love you more than anyone in this world..and nobody should questions that!" he said and you smiled brining your hands closer together and kissing his which made him blush.

pablogavi

Tonight is reserved for my special woman. Happy March 8th mi vida!

comentarios:

y.n.bebe: mi bebé preciosooo❤️❤️❤️

pedri:👏🏻

fcbarcelona: happy barça ladies 😍

ferminlopez_: she stole you from me hermano🥺

y.n.bebe:😂

fermin.gavi.fans: jealous fermin!!!

gavifans: THE BEST at shutting up HATERS!

y.n.princesa: she's the luckiest girl on eart!

pablogavi: I'm the luckiest guy

y.n.princesa: OMG😳😳😳👀

"Te amo muchisimo mi chico" you say in bed while the two of you cuddled ready to fall asleep.

"Yo te amo mas mi vida. You will always be my special woman" he said kissing your head and you smile nodding your head and holding your on top of his heart feeling it beat fast knowing he was speaking only the truth.

#gavigif #gavi #fc barça #fc barca #fc barcelona #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi #gavira #gavi x reader #pablogavixreaderfluff

[callofdooty69]

cw: talk of alcohol, talk of vomit/throwing up, profanity, fem!reader

helping a drunk can get you dates

simon never got involved with women, mostly because he didn’t have time. every woman he tried dating wasn’t happy with the idea of him never seeing them because of deployment and needing to be on base most days. he was never in a relationship for more than a month.

that was, until he met you.

on a cold thursday night, him and the lads had just gotten done with their two-month-long deployment and went out to celebrate. they went to a local pub and soap ordered beers for everyone. simon wasn’t a huge drinker, afraid of the idea of becoming an alcoholic. but, mostly when he went out to celebrate, he had a few drinks. he could handle his alcohol well and wasn’t a light weight. his comrades on the other hand, were a totally different story, with the exception of price.

soap and gaz were fully wasted and could barely walk straight, making shitty jokes and laughing at each other when they fell. they decided to call it a night after soap nearly got a himself killed from bumping into a waiter and spilling drinks all over himself.

simon and price held up the other two drunks while trying to get back to base, struggling because they were barely lifting their feet off the ground. they definitely had a few too many drinks and price barely dodged gaz puking all over him.

as they stumbled along the concrete, ghost internally regretting parking so far from the bar, he saw you and your friends walking towards him. you were laughing, the only clearly sober one trying to guide your drunk friends and making sure they didn’t bump into anyone. your smile looked contagious, practically lighting up the snowy and foggy street.

you were inching towards them, trying to get your friends out of their way. you looked at him, showing a small smile as you passed. unfortunately, with the unlucky curse you both seem to carry around, soap vomited all over you before you got the chance to walk by. you tried your best not to show it, but you were freaking out a bit when you saw the puke all over your dress and heels.

“johnny?! the fucks a matter with you, mate?!” price shouted, scolding him. “holy shiiiiitttt,” gaz slurred, “why’d you do that man? you totally just ruined her niiighttt.”

“oh, don’t worry. it’s really not a big deal, this shit happens,” you smiled, trying to reassure them that you were okay, just a bit grossed out. soap let out a burp, “oh sorry lass, didaen’t mean ta!” he groaned.

“it’s really okay, i promise. just try not to puke all over anyone else tonight, yeah?” you smiled. “yes ma’am!” gaz and soap spoke at the same time, laughing their asses off and saying “jinx” and elbowing each other.

“okay, okay that’s enough. god, your gonna have a horrible hangover tomorrow,” price said, warning them. “sorry miss, i’ll see to it that ya’ get a new dress.”

“oh it’s okay! no need to,” you responded. you were desperately hoping it would wash out, you spent four paychecks on it. “have a good night, guys. get home safe!”

simon was surprised. despite the fact that some random scottish drunk just puked all over you, you didn’t even break your smile. he wouldn’t have had that self control, probably would have ended up socking him in the face if he was in your position. it was admirable, definitely something he would remember in the morning, if soap and gaz didn’t.

****

the next week went by in a blur. everyone was cleared off duty for a while, around three months, given the harsh conditions they faced during deployment and the numerous injuries that followed. price deemed that gaz and soap were strictly prohibited from alcohol consumption for the next three weeks, which the lads understood. other than occasional errands, nothing important went on, everyone mostly slept and hung out, trying to relax.

it was simon’s turn to go for the grocery run, seeing as having twenty or more soldiers on the same base would mean food went by quickly. as he stopped on the road and waited for cars to pass by, he flicked the remainder of his cigarette out the window and onto the street. looking out, he saw the walkway where the event from the previous week occurred. the memory flashed through his eyes and looked into the building that you and your friends came out of. he stared intently as he waited for the light to turn green, watching to see if anything interesting was happening inside.

and suddenly, as if you teleported out of nowhere, he saw you scribbling down an order on a notepad, an apron around your waist and that same bright smile on his face in a busy italian restaurant. it wasn’t until the loud noises of cars honking behind him that he put his attention back on the road, shaking his head and wondering what the hell was going on with him.

he used his knowledge to his advantage. he volunteered to go on the grocery runs for the following two weeks. he felt like a coward for not talking to you, and it had never been this difficult for him to talk to women. with his dumb luck, the lads caught on and made fun of him for it for weeks on end. it got on his nerves so much to the point where he just had to put an end to it.

he didn’t know how to, though. he remembered price talking to you about getting a new dress to replace the one soap idiotically puked on. simon figured he might as well get you new heels too, visualizing which ones they were and what to actually get.

money wasn’t the issue, his salary was pretty decent seeing as he was a lieutenant. the problem was being in a store that was filled with items that he didn’t know. it’s as if each piece of clothing and accessory was new to him, despite buying many of those gifts before for others. he hated how confused he was, why was he even doing this anyway? he could have just left and grabbed groceries like he was meant to. but it’s like he was tied to a rope that he couldn’t cut.

he finally found the dress and heels he was looking for after spending thirty minutes walking in circles. he purchased the items, requesting a bag and a note that read ‘sorry ‘bout the dress you had, hope this one can replace it.’ with that, he left and drove back to the restaurant where he saw you.

he stood outside the door, hesitating to enter. he might as well get it over with now, he wasn’t going to bring a dress and heels back to base knowing everyone would poke fun at him for it. he pulled the door open, hearing the faint jingle of bells as he let it close. he looked around, he had to admit the place was nice, surprisingly busy for it being only noon.

walking to the front counter, waiting for someone to come out front. he heard your voice in the back, telling him it would be just a minute until you could seat him. when you came out your eyes lit up, seeming to remember simon from the previous weeks.

“oh, hey! you were the man from a few weeks ago right? how are you?”

simon’s words were caught in his throat. he mumbled a small ‘good’ and handed you the bag of items. “is this for someone in the back? if you just gimme a name i can give it to them!” your smile widened, showing a glimpse of your seemingly perfect teeth.

“no, actually. s’ for you, a replacement of the dress ‘nd heels my drunk lad threw up all over. sorry if it’s not the right ones, tried my best to remember.”

your eyes went wide, smile slowly falling. he was worried he said something wrong, messed up what he got. but your smile quickly went back even wider than before. “are you serious?” he nodded in response. “you really didn’t have to, i told you guys it was okay!”

“no, it was his fault. if it makes ya’ feel any better, the lad was suspended from drinkin’ for three weeks.” your bubbly laugh returned, the corners of your eyes crinkling. “are you sure? this must’ve been expensive, it’s really no big deal-”

“i insist.”

“really? thank you!” you ran around the corner, standing on your tippy toes to hug the taller man in front of you. “you have no idea how much i appreciate this, unfortunately the puke didn’t wash out.” you rubbed the back of your neck, only then realizing how close the two of you were. you both apologized at the same time, laughing at the responses. a blush slowly crept up on your face, and simon was internally praying that you couldn’t see how red his was.

“well, i should probably get back to work, thank you again, this made my shitty week so much better.” you chuckled. simon knew he might not have the guts to talk to you again or see you, and unfortunately his mouth moved faster than his brain.

“wait,” he said as you turned around to smile at him. “are you free on friday? maybe we could grab a bite to eat. i’ll make sure no one pukes on ya’ again.” he laughed.

you were definitely not expecting the tall and hot military man you only had two encounters with ask you something like that. “yes” you said.

he wrote down his name and number and slid it across the counter to you, “great, then it’s a date.”

and with that, simon walked out the door and you went to grab the drinks you meant to bring out five minutes ago.

the both of you were smiling the rest of the day.

****

let me know if you guys want a part 2, and per usual, leave requests in the comments or anons if you’d like ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

- 𝓀.𝒿

#call of duty #fanfic #writeblr #cod #ao3 #cod fanfic #simon ghost riley #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #we're past the point of conversation #artists on tumblr #y/n #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #x reader #fic writing #brainrot.txt #long reads

[dwellordream]

"she's patriarchy-pilled" and why it doesn't apply to fictious pseudo-medieval women

a pretty common meta commentary leveled at certain female characters in ASOIAF is that you can divide the women of the setting into two groups.

the first group is full of strong feminist women who resist the patriarchy in all corners, and who refuse to submit to victimhood. the second group is full of placid, smug sheep, who enjoy being weak and condescended to by men.

reasons why this is bullshit:

comparisons between modern day 'trad wives' or 'red pilled women' who advocate for rejecting feminism and returning to lives of happy homemaking and female submission and fictional characters living in a pseudo medieval world just... don't work well.

Westeros has never had a feminist movement. there is no sense of 'getting back to tradition' because they are still living in a feudal patriarchy. while internalized misogyny can still be displayed in the books, and women certainly judge other women, these characters aren't actually 'rejecting their own freedom', because they quite literally have no choice in the matter.

for example, while a woman in 21st century America might willingly quit her job or drop out of school for a relationship with a man, a female character like Catelyn or Alicent or Cersei... isn't actually sacrificing hopes of a career or an education. they are being shunted down a path with little to no alternatives.

sometimes fans go "well, they could have run away! they could have joined the Faith?" how? with what money and resources? who is going to protect them on the road? how are they going to subvert the will of their fathers/brothers/etc?

don't get me wrong. there are absolutely unironic examples of internalized misogyny in ASOIAF. Cersei, for example, spends much of her time sneering at and degrading other women for being victims or weak-willed. HOWEVER, what many fans don't seem to grasp, is that being sexist towards other women doesn't magically make Cersei 'win' at the patriarchy. she herself is still abused, demeaned, and used as a political pawn, well into her tenure as Queen Regent.

in the endless battle of Sansa versus Arya stans, for example, Sansa stans will often claim that Arya is 'not a victim' and 'deserves less sympathy than Sansa', because Arya for a time is treated as a young boy and has training with a sword. yet this ignores the fact that Arya is still constantly threatened with or exposed to sexual violence, even while masquerading as a boy, and while she can defend herself in some instances, is far from this super-powered action chick on a 'fun road trip in the Riverlands'.

conversely, Arya stans will insinuate that Sansa 'deserves less sympathy than Arya' because 'being at court is what she always wanted' and 'the patriarchy favors her due to her self-serving, submissive ways'. yet this ignores the fact that while Sansa has more material privileges than Arya, being afforded regular meals, a soft place to sleep, and the veneer of civility, she is still regularly viciously abused by Joffrey and his Kingsguard, and ostracized and isolated from the rest of the court. Sansa's not winning any competition here.

to move on to Catelyn, many of Catelyn's proud 'antis' will claim that Catelyn is a woman who willingly and knowingly profits off the patriarchy while condemning women who do not fit that mold. yet while Catelyn and Arya's relationship is complex, we also see Catelyn treat Brienne and the Mormont women, all female warriors, with warmth and kindness, and there is an underlying current of resentment and anger in her chapters towards the men in her life, even though she is in many ways the 'ideal Westeros wife'.

finally, to dabble briefly in HOTD, Rhaenyra and Alicent's different reactions to the prospect of marriage and motherhood are often compared to triumph Rhaenyra's strong will and sense of rebellion. while Rhaenyra's determination to choose her own spouse and her disregard for the ridiculous notion of 'virginity' should be admired, she is also actively groomed by her uncle, a man thrice her age, and she ultimately does agree to an arranged marriage with Laenor.

meanwhile, Alicent is often derided by fans for 'allowing herself to be used as a pawn', yet this ignores the fact that Alicent is a 14/15 year old girl with no incomes or property of her own, who does not even have the threat of a dragon to demand respect. what was Alicent meant to do? kick and scream as she was dragged down the aisle? defy her father and the King, and be, best case scenario, permanently ostracized from court and her family for it? this sort of blatant victim-blaming dominates in the tumblr HOTD fandom.

in conclusion: to claim that women play no role in promulgating patriarchal and misogynistic views is silly.

women do play an active role in shaming and abusing other women, and this is often handed down from mothers to daughters. it allows patriarchs the veneer of genteel nature, in that the 'dirty work' of berating young girls for not conforming is passed off on mothers, sisters, and aunts.

however, in fandom discussions, the the woobification of male characters is so strong that we spend most of our time blaming women alone for patriarchal restrictions and values, as if it were something girls developed in their free time, purely for their own amusement.

to imply that a character in a fictional feudal patriarchy has the same range of choices and autonomy as modern day women do is absurd. the trad-wife movement is defined by its knowing, pseudo-intellectual rejection of second and third wave feminism. the entire point is to turn away from abortion, from birth control, from reproductive and LGBT rights, to leave behind women's suffrage, sex positivity, and criticism of gender roles.

but what do Westerosi women have to 'reject', exactly? they're not playing with the same full deck.

#valyrianscrolls #hotd #gender

[phaedraismyusername]

Happy International Lesbian Day! Here's some super brief book recs to celebrate

Books dealing with love, loss, longing and abandonment

This is How You Lose The Time War is a short but beautifully written epistolary novel between two agents on opposite sides of a time war as they slowly fall in love.

Our Wives Under the Sea is one of the most beautifully written debuts I've ever read about a woman whose wife comes home wrong after they thought she'd died at sea and how it feels to grieve the loss of someone who's still in your home.

Lucky Red is a western novel about a young girl working in a brothel who meets her first female gunslinger and falls head over heels for her, and the consequences that come with loving dangerous people.

Body horror galore

Camp Damascus is about a young woman living in a super conservative christian town built around the worlds most successful conversion camp and the horrors that are uncovered there when praying the gay away fails.

To Be Devoured is about a woman whose fascination with the local vultures turns into obsession and the urge to know what carrion tastes like overtakes her life and leads her down stranger and stranger paths.

Chlorine is about a girl whose entire life revolves around being a competitive swimmer, and how abuse, neglect, and obsession with being the best takes its toll on the young women caught up in these destructive cycles.

Flawed character studies

Big Swiss is about a woman who has a kitchen floor reset in her 40s, moves away and starts a new life as a transcriber for a sex therapist and becomes obsessed with one of his clients before inserting herself into this poor woman's life.

The Seep is a speculative sci-fi set in a future where there's been a quiet alien invasion that has given people the ability to make almost any changes to their own bodies and what that world feels like to someone who doesn't want to partake.

Milk Fed is about a woman in therapy who feels cut off from almost everything until she meets another woman who triggers in her a melding of sex, hunger, and religion and where that takes her. Huge trigger warnings for ED content. It gets tough, y'all.

Fantastical wlw books

Bitterthorn is an amalgamation of fairytales retold as a slow burn sapphic love story between a sad young girl from a cursed land and the evil witch who takes her as a companion in the latest of the generational sacrifices made to appease her.

All the Bad Apples may be set in contemporary Ireland but it is a fairytale following a young girl as she travels across the country looking for a sister she refuses to believe is dead and the people she meets along the way.

Gideon the Ninth needs no introduction on this site but for the sake of formatting - lesbian necromancers in space who find themselves in an isolated murder mystery plot. It's not a romance but it is a love story and this series will change your life if you let it.

Translated novels

Boulder is a short character study following a free spirited woman when she accidentally settles down with the woman she loves and how love and resentment can take up the same space in your chest when life doesn't turn out the way you hoped it would.

Notes of a Crocodile is a cult classic coming of age story about queer teens in Taipei in the 1980s. It was written in the 90s so please keep that in mind if you choose to read it.

Paradise Rot is about an international student studying in Australia and her growing obsession with her housemate as they share a space that allows no privacy. I've never read anything that feels stickier.

#international lesbian day #book recs #long post #maybe a too long post #but i had the recs so here we are lol #this is how you lose the time war #our wives under the sea #lucky red #camp damascus #to be devoured #chlorine #big swiss #the seep #milk fed #bitterthorn #all the bad apples #gideon the ninth #boulder by eve baltasar #notes of a crocodile #paradise rot #i ran out of tags 😭😭😭 #booklr

[katelynnwrites]

You Look So Pretty (Pretty Like The Sun) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: not proof read

word count: 2557

summary: after making your own name, you realise it's not enough because you are still missing your sunshine

a/n: i wasn't going to post this but i'm on a mission to leave all my bad writing behind in 2023 so here's part two of this fic

It’s with a certain amount of trepidation that you walk onto the Bayern Munich training pitch.

Both you and the facility have undergone a major change in the years that you have been away but one thing is the same.

You know when the love of your life is near.

It seems that the blonde can still sense your presence too because she looks up and visibly pales the second she sees you.

‘Sydney.’ You breathe but she shakes her head.

The German player’s eyes are wide and panicked.

You are torn between staying where you are, on the very edge of the pitch or making your way to her.

This is the closest you have been to her since the day she broke up with you.

Luckily or unluckily, your new manager spares you and calls your new teammates over so that you can meet them.

Seeing Magda and Pernille again is a welcome distraction.

The older women had practically adopted you as their own when you were at Chelsea and you sigh contentedly as they wrap you up in a hug.

‘I missed you two so much.’ You mumble.

‘I hope you’re prepared for dinner at our place tonight. You can tell us all about why you didn’t tell us you were coming to Munich.’ The Swede says.

Pernille gives her a fond swat, ‘Oh don’t sound so serious love.’

Conspiratorially, she turns to you and loudly whispers, ‘Magda just wants the chance to mom you again.’

You giggle at the defender’s immediate protests.

******

Meeting the rest of your new club teammates goes smoothly.

All except for one.

Magda and Pernille help with the introductions, easing you back into the Bavarian team.

For all your fame, you’re still shy so you are grateful for the help.

They’re not all new faces, most are familiar.

You grew up playing for the youth teams with Klara and Lea. Some others you know from international games or as opponents that you once played against in the Frauen Bundesliga.

It’s with laughter that you reunite with Lea, the older woman teasing you that you’re still shorter than her.

Your introduction does not last long but by the time you have properly met all of your new teammates, Sydney is nowhere to be seen.

And you hate how awful that makes you feel.

Maybe you didn’t make the right decision in coming back to Munich.

******

Sydney is still Sydney. That much you have come to realise. The blonde has grown up but at her core, she’s still who you fell in love with.

You are content to watch forever as she shines on everyone. There is never going to be anyone else like her. Sydney Lohmann is a singularity.

She shows up to training sessions just a fraction of a second early and drinks far too many coffees for her own good.

Her fancy footwork on the pitch puts everyone else to shame.

The sound of her laugh still makes you happy and her smile brightens up every room that she is in.

Unlike before, none of that is directed towards you.

These days, all she has for you is indifference and silence.

She doesn’t even look at you and from the only interaction you have had so far, the one from your introduction, the midfielder has made it clear that she doesn’t want you back at her club.

You try not to let it affect you or your performance.

The faking it till you make it must be working because you are all set to be a starter just two weeks after rejoining the Bavarian club.

******

Syd doesn’t start that particular game and it gives you an overwhelming sense of relief.

It’s already stressful enough to have to prove yourself good enough to start without adding on your standing with your former girlfriend.

You’re doing well against Köln and you’re proud of how you are adapting back to the German style of play, if you do say so yourself.

There is only about a half hour left of playing time when the blonde is subbed on.

She doesn’t look at you and you keep your gaze down.

Unfortunately, for her, her playing time is cut short. It is like a bad deja vu of her previous injury against Köln, a few years ago.

One second she’s jumping down for a header and the next she is on the ground, holding her ankle.

You hear her cry out and then you are sprinting.

Lina is already at her side and just before you reach her, you freeze.

Sydney doesn’t want you anymore.

So you stay away from her but just far enough that you can still see how she is.

It doesn’t look good.

The medics come on and it is agonising for you to have to listen to Syd’s pained whimpers and do nothing about it.

You are trying your hardest not to flinch when Lea comes up to you.

‘Go to her. She needs you even if she doesn’t know it yet.’ She quietly says.

‘Schülli…’

‘Go. I know you want to.’

Hesitantly, you approach the injured midfielder.

Sydney’s eyes are tear filled and when she sees you, she immediately stretches out her hand.

It is instinct for you to put your hand in hers.

‘You’re gonna be okay.’ You murmur soothingly and she closes her fingers around yours.

The blonde shuts her eyes, more tears escaping despite her best efforts.

You keep holding her hand until the medics signal that she needs to come off.

Your ex girlfriend cries even harder at that and you help her get to her feet.

The German woman stifles a whimper as she does so and you worriedly ask, ‘Do you want a stretcher?’

‘No! Please no.’

‘Okay. Lean on me then.’ You whisper and Syd nods.

She puts her arm around your shoulders and you wrap your arm around her waist, supporting her weight.

‘I got you.’ You assure her, as she limps towards the sidelines.

Once there, it is with great reluctance that you let her go, the medics taking over.

You look over at the bench where your manager is preparing the subs and you signal for you to be replaced.

‘I’m coming off too.’

‘No.’ The blonde snaps.

‘Syd this is not up for debate.’ You insist.

Your meaning and intentions are clear, making Sydney let out a frustrated noise.

‘No. You are going to stay on and be a star. Okay? Go be a star and play for us both.’

She squeezes your hand tightly, wanting you to know how much she means her words.

‘Are you sure?’

Your ex nods, ‘Go.’

‘Okay.’

Syd’s hazel eyes are filled with tears and she looks so vulnerable that you can’t help touching your lips to the side of her head.

‘I’ll score a goal for you. Promise sonnenschein.’

In running back onto the field, you miss the way she lets out a soft sob.

She doesn’t know if she cries harder because of the old nickname, the feel of your lips back on her skin or because of the way the pain in her ankle practically doubles once you are gone.

******

You keep your promise to the German midfielder.

Scoring not just one goal but two before the referee blows the whistle for full time.

Then you rush straight to the medical room where you had been told Sydney is.

You slow down, the clicking of your studs becoming quieter as you approach. Tentatively, you knock on the door before you open it.

Syd’s all alone, sitting on the bed with her knees drawn up to her chest.

Her injured ankle has been fitted with a moon boot and her face is pale.

‘Sydney?’ You ask softly.

‘Why did you come back?’

‘Because I wanted to check on you.’ You answer immediately.

The blonde scoffs, ‘Not here here but Munich.’

‘I don’t understand.’ You murmur even though your stomach drops because you understand perfectly.

Sydney’s eyes narrow with anger.

‘Don’t give me some bullshit answer. You were doing so well for yourself over in Barcelona so why come back? You left before so why return now?’

Her words are clipped, filled with more than just resentment.

You sigh. She still knows you too well.

‘You. I came back for you.’

Sydney’s face goes blank.

‘No. You came here to win the league. You have won the English and Spanish leagues. The Champions’ League and Euros too. This is just one more thing on your list.’

Wincing audibly, you take a step forward.

‘I came back for you. You and you alone Sydney.’

‘No.’ The blonde adamantly says, even as her bottom lip starts to wobble.

‘Syd…I came back for you. I promise I came back for you.’

You are pleading with her now, almost begging for her to believe you.

The midfielder searches your face for traces of lies, tears spilling down her cheeks as she does so.

‘No. No. You chose to leave and I wasn’t enough to make you stay before. Why would I be enough for you now?’

‘Sydney I never wanted to leave you. It broke my heart to leave Germany with how things ended between us.’

Raw pain is evident in your admission and now it is your ex’s turn to flinch.

‘Why didn’t you come back earlier? You could have played for Germany. We could have played together just as we promised to all those years ago.’

You shrug.

‘I was eligible to play for England too and you made it clear that you didn’t want to see me anymore. I know me being here is the last thing you want but I just couldn’t stay away from you anymore. Not when I never stopped loving you.’

Sydney loses the little composure she has left.

Harsh sobs wrack her body and she covers her face with her hands.

‘I’m sorry. I-I’ll go now.’

You turn to leave but the blonde chokes out your name and a plea for you to stay.

‘What?’

‘I never meant for us to break up. I never meant to push you away. Fuck I am so sorry. S-So sorry.’ Syd stammers.

‘Sydney what are you talking about?’

Your words aren’t unkind, just genuinely lost. The German player’s actions have been plain and constant ever since you left. They have been nothing short of obvious in recent times.

Sydney doesn’t want you.

The midfielder wrings her hands, her voice barely a whisper as she says, ‘I love you too. There’s not been a fraction of a second where I haven’t.’

You are floored.

Literally because you have to sit down.

You stare at her silently and the only sound in the room is your ex’s quiet cries.

Eventually her tears slow and she sniffles, looking up at you.

‘Say something.’ She breathes after the painful silence continues.

You don’t know what to say so you go over to her and sit down beside her on the physio bed.

Sydney is trembling but she tentatively wraps an arm around you, getting you to lean your head against her shoulder.

After a few minutes, you curl completely into her side and the blonde sighs in relief.

It is how the rest of the team finds you later, Lea smiling a secret smile to herself.

******

You end up going with Syd back to her apartment. She gives you her address and you drive her there in your car since she can’t do it herself due to her injury.

The blonde keeps stealing glances at you as you drive, wondering if she is dreaming.

She thinks it would be too much if she puts her hand on your knee the way she used to, when you were hers and she yours.

Sydney is so busy overthinking it when you slip your hand onto her knee.

You keep your eyes on the road the entire time but a smile forms on both your faces as Syd covers your hand with hers.

Neither of you have said a word to each other but that’s okay cause there will be time for that.

******

It’s after you have helped the blonde onto her couch and brought her a mug of tea that you realise whose jersey is framed on the wall of her living room.

The three lions crest is familiar, the last name and autograph even more so.

‘Sonnenschein that’s mine.’ You murmur.

Your former girlfriend sets her tea down and nods.

With growing curiosity, you inspect the match worn jersey.

‘From the Euro final in 2022.’ Syd confirms when glance at her.

‘How?’

‘I bought it at an auction. I think it’s the one you wore during the first half.’

You remember now, the England staff had got the team to sign the jerseys before sending them off to some charity organisation.

‘Why do you have it? I would have given it to you for free if you’d asked.’ You question.

You have so many of them that this is as good a place to start as any.

‘Because I was so proud of your achievement. Even if you had to beat me to win that gold medal.’ She explains, picking up her mug again just so that she has something to fiddle with.

‘And I didn’t ask you because I was afraid.’

‘Of me?’

You try not to sound hurt but it bleeds through anyway.

Syd’s hazel eyes gloss over.

‘Not of you. Never of you. J-Just how you would react I guess. Nothing like your ex girlfriend coming up to you after you’ve won your first piece of silverware for your country to spoil the mood.’

The midfielder lets out a strained laugh.

You frown, ‘You wouldn’t have. I wanted to approach you that day too but I didn’t know how. I thought you hated me.’

‘I could never.’

‘It felt like it.’ You softly say. She's, after all, been point blank ignoring and avoiding you ever since you resigned for Bayern Munich.

The blonde grimaces, ‘I’m so sorry.’

‘You said that I made you feel like you weren’t enough when I left for Chelsea. I’m sorry for that.’

‘You needed to leave. I get that now. Leaving Munich was the best thing for your career. Bayern might be my home but it wasn’t yours. I couldn’t see that at nineteen and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for letting my selfishness ruin us. I treated you the way I did all these years because of how guilty I felt.’

‘Sydney…you didn’t ruin us.’

‘Didn’t I?’ She hopelessly asks.

‘I played a part too. It wasn’t entirely your fault.’

The German woman looks defeated and sad. Her hazel eyes are downcast and her usually healthily pink cheeks are pale.

You sit down next to Sydney and take her hand in yours, ‘We’re not ruined. You are still here and I am still here.’

She squeezes your hand in hers, ‘A-Are you saying that you want to give us a second chance?’

‘Only if you want to.’

Your former girlfriend doesn’t need a second to consider it. Her mind is made up.

******

Sydney is pretty like the sun. You’ve always thought so.

Now that you have your sunshine back, you’re not leaving her again. She’s not letting you go again either.

German Translation:

sonnenschein- sunshine

#sydney lohmann #sydney lohmann imagine #sydney lohmann x reader #fcb frauen #gerwnt #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #dfb frauen x reader #dfb frauen imagine #dfb frauen #woso fanfics #katelynnwrites #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine

[sserpente]

Happy Ending

Synopsis: Out of all people you could have been assigned to for your lifeguard training, it had to be Billy Hargrove. You hate the guts out of his cocky and flirty demeanour and during your lessons, Billy has no mercy and it shows—muscle cramps torment your entire body after another intense training session, and (un)fortunately, Billy takes notice and offers to give you a massage. What could possibly go wrong?

A/N: Request from anon. You asked, I delivered! But hear me out… what if he gave RC a seductive massage beforehand? ;-)

Words: 2654 Warnings: pure, shameless, and filthy smut

“Ugh…” You groaned, rolling your shoulders. Your lifeguard training was killing you. You’d be as stiff as a piece of log by the time you’d made it through the final exam. That’s how you’d end up saving drowning folk. They’d just use you like a piece of wood.

But you were determined to push through, if anything to prove a point. Billy Hargrove aka the pain of your existence, was pushing you to your fucking limits. Out of all people you could have been assigned to… well, technically, it had been a fifty-fifty chance. But boy, would you have preferred Heather over him.

Billy was a cliché on two legs. A cocky boy from California with abs, a womanizer, and a classic jock—not to mention he preferred to resolve disputes with his fists. You knew what he stood for and what his intentions were with the women he wooed and you hated yourself for being insanely attracted to him. Nothing good would come out of giving in to his recurring flirting attempts. He knew exactly what he was doing—knew about the effect he had on women and he was bathing in it. His ego was too big for his head, that was for sure; and the fact that during your lifeguard lessons, Billy repeatedly had his hands all over your half-naked body didn’t exactly make things easier for you.

You groaned once more, attempting to stretch a little. You had absolutely no idea how you had survived the past hour.

“You okay?” Billy came walking into the changing rooms, still wearing nothing more than his red swimming trunks. He was chewing on gum, a sly smirk playing on his lips when he noticed your struggles. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Yeah… just tense. Muscles cramps.”

“I wasn’t going too… hard on you, was I?” He asked, playfulness playing in his voice. Damn him.

“No… I’m just not used to excessive workouts every day.” You realised your mistake, or rather, your poor word choice, the moment he started grinning.

“Oh, you’re not?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, stop it already. I hate you, remember?”

“I can help you, you know,” he said, unimpressed by my complaint and clearly still amused.

Raising your eyebrows, you glared him down suspiciously. “Oh yeah?”

Billy nodded. “I know a few… massage techniques.”

Your eyes widened and you took, no, jumped a step back.

“Absolutely not!” Billy’s hands slowly gliding all over your body, kneading away the knots? That… that sounded horrifying, it sounded… really hot. Which was why you could, under no circumstances, agree to it.

“Come on… Are you scared it could be… good?” He leaned in close and you cursed internally. Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I’m afraid of, for Fuck’s sake.

“No. I just… I don’t need you of all people to massage me, Billy. If I need to release some tension, I’ll go to a professional.” You winced, again slapping yourself mentally for your poor word choice. Billy chuckled.

“Follow me.”

You didn’t know why but you did. Billy led you to the lifeguard office in the back of the building. There wasn’t much in here—just some equipment, first aid kits, a surprisingly neat desk, and a low treatment table for injured pool guests.

“Lie down, stomach down.” He pointed at the treatment table. You hesitated. This was a bad idea. This was a really bad idea. So why the fuck did you move toward it and did as you were told?

“Is it just your shoulders and your back?” Billy went to grab something from the sink area—you could only assume it was some sort of massage oil. You doubted this was part of the equipment here, he must have brought it himself at some point.

“Yeah…” you croaked out.

You tensed, staring at the wall and avoiding his gaze at any cost when Billy slid the straps of your swimsuit off your shoulders and then proceeded to pour some massage oil into his hands. He rubbed them together, the soothing sound sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine, and then… you felt his hands on you.

Billy’s fingers were surprisingly soft and yet, they went to town firmly. A moan escaped your lips when he located the knots and began to massage them away.

“Told you I’m good,” he purred. You groaned by way of a response. Because the fucker was right. It felt amazing. He felt amazing. Billy knew exactly what he was doing—you didn’t even protest when, after a while, he pulled your swimsuit down further to reveal the entirety of your back. Up and down his hands went, exploring your bare skin and working away all of the tension his training had caused in the first place.

You could get used to this. You could fall asleep to this. Fall asleep and dream of Billy’s hands further down… no, stop! That’s exactly what he wants to achieve!

You were about to protest and opened your mouth when he travelled south with a start, testing the tense flesh on the back of your thighs. He tsked at you when his thumbs rolled over the knots and tense spots.

“I don’t think you were completely honest with me, doll.”

“I’m fine…”

“Flip over,” he suddenly said.

You ripped your eyes open, only realising now that you had closed them. You were naked from the waist up. If you turned around now, you’d give him a full front-row view of your tits. He wished, huh?

“I’m good, Billy.”

“Flip. Over,” he repeated. His voice was darker now, almost a little intimidating and… taunting in the most delicious and fuck, sexual way.

Grunting, you pulled your swimsuit back up just enough for it to cover your breasts and rolled on your back, meeting his blue eyes and staring daggers at him. He only chuckled.

“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be angry.”

“I’m not pretending. I am angry.” Angry at how good it felt. Angry at how good he made you feel.

Billy smirked and poured some more oil into his palms. Next thing you knew, he was working your thighs so thoroughly that you tensed up in order not to wriggle around.

“Relax, babe…” Ha, easy for him to say. You had no doubt that he was enjoying this, perhaps even more than you were. Especially when his thumbs moved toward dangerous territory. Again and again, he grazed your inner thighs just a little too close to where you kept claiming he didn’t have an effect on you. A circumstance that was getting harder and harder to deny because fuck, you were growing wet. You could already feel the heat pooling between your legs, your breathing quickening.

And before you even knew it, your legs fell open further, inviting him in. It was over there and then. Fuck it. Fuck him, literally. You could only hope he had locked the door behind him. He won. He fucking won.

Your lips parted as Billy’s hands took the invitation. You bucked your hips the moment his thumb brushed directly over your still clothed clit, your nails digging into the treatment table, though this time, he didn’t tell you to relax. Instead, he did it again. And again. And again.

For a brief moment, he paused. And then, when you didn’t protest, he slowly pushed the thin stripe of fabric out of the way to reveal your glistening pussy to his greedy eyes. You were panting at this point, lost in the pleasure he was promising you without even speaking a word.

His fingers were slippery with the massage oil, his left thumb slowly circling your sensitive bundle of nerves. You gasped when you felt him push two fingers inside of you. He fucked you languidly, savouring every single second and you bucked your hips and arched your back, meeting his thrusts, silently begging for more.

You almost flinched upon hearing his seductive voice again. “I think that swimsuit needs to go, doll. It’s in the way… and we wouldn’t want to get massage oil all over it, now would we?”

Biting your lower lip, you hummed in agreement. All of a sudden, you did not mind him seeing you topless anymore at all. Quite on the contrary—it turned you on even more knowing that you’d be lying before him completely exposed, all his for the taking.

Billy did all the work for you. He removed his fingers from your pussy and chuckled when you whined at the loss. He then hooked his fingers into the hem of your swimsuit, pulling it all the way down—at an antagonisingly slow speed—to your ankles. You kicked them off, unable to hide your trembling. You couldn’t remember the last time you had been this aroused, except, perhaps, this one time you’d been unable to fall asleep and instead decided to masturbate to the thought of Billy fucking you. Shit, you were a goner. A complete and utter goner.

“Jesus, I knew you’d look even hotter without the swimsuit.”

You moaned in response, still unable to meet his gaze. You kept your eyes shut, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when his left hand cupped one of your breasts as if they’d been made for him. His other hand returned to your slick cunt. Sweet, wet noises echoed through the otherwise empty room as he fingerfucked you all the while the hand on your breast kept teasing your hardening nipple. By the time he moved on to the other breast, you were breathing heavily, a warm knot tightening in your stomach—fast.

And yet again, you had to admit… Billy knew exactly what he was doing, working you toward what already felt like the most mind-blowing orgasm of your life. His voice alone almost tipped you over the edge.

“Do you wanna come, babe?” he rasped.

“Please…” You barely recognised your own voice at this point. Begging Billy Hargrove for an orgasm… you’d most definitely lost your marbles.

But before you could slap yourself for your horny stupidity, you fell. Billy made you see stars, his fingers working your cunt like an instrument and hitting all the right keys. You clenched around his fingers, drenching them in your juices as your toes curled and you came hard.

He made sure help you ride it out before he released you, wet hands gliding all over your bare body. He massaged your breasts for a little while until you came back to your senses, your eyes still closed in pure and utter bliss. You didn’t protest when he tilted your head and stroked your neck.

For just a brief moment, he stopped touching you. Then, you felt something hard pressing against your parted lips. You didn’t care what you were, didn’t care that he was a player and would move on to the next girl after this. You didn’t even care that you were supposed to hate him. You wanted Billy and you wanted him now. His cock in your mouth seemed like a good place to start.

Moaning with relish, you closed your lips around his tip and sucked gently, testing the waters. You’d given a couple of blowjobs before but with him, you felt the odd need to impress with your skills. The results were almost immediate. Billy sucked in air audibly when you took him deeper, tongue darting forward to tease his slit. He pushed forward slightly—surprisingly patient, he let you take him inch by inch at your own pace until you rolled over to taste him properly.

You were done for the very moment you tasted a salty drop of precum on your tongue. Accompanied by another moan, you started bopping your head up and down, your left hand busying itself with his tight balls. You released him with a smacking noise, right hand covering what you could not take, and suckled on his tip like a popsicle before licking over the entire underside of his shaft.

“Fuck…” Billy threw his head back just when you opened your eyes. Pleased with his reaction, you repeated the motion and then took him in your mouth again, faster this time. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, thrusting forward now and slowly taking control. You let him. You let him fuck your mouth until your gag reflex hit and your eyes were watering and yet, when he pulled out of your mouth, leaving your lips swollen and tingling, you made a disappointed noise.

“Where?” was all he said. You bit your lower lip and nodded toward the desk. He didn’t need to elaborate on his question. You knew exactly what he meant and quite frankly, you were too far gone to back out now.

“Condom?” you breathed out as you slid off the treatment table and approached the desk naked, your limbs still trembling a little from your intense orgasm earlier.

“Yeah…” You figured he went to grab one from his bag stored away in the corner, always prepared for a quick fuck with a girl he’d wrapped around his finger for sport. As much as you attempted to force yourself to, you couldn’t complain about it. Not right now. Not when you were desperate for him to finally fuck you and get that remaining tension—the tension between the two of you—out of the way.

Billy didn’t disappoint. His blue eyes were dark with lust when he returned to you without his trunks and quite an impressive erection still glistening from your saliva under the thin latex of the condom. He flipped you around so your hips hit the edge of the desk and bent you forward, fingertips ghosting over your spine.

You shivered, your lips parting to beg him to put it in already when he knocked all air from your body. Billy sank himself into you with but one eager thrust, a groan escaping his lips in the process. He grabbed your hips tightly, holding you in place for him as he began to fuck you, withdrawing almost entirely only to plunge back in so forcefully your breathing became uneven.

Your hands reached for the opposite edge of the desk to hold on to something, your legs almost dangling in the air. On your tiptoes, you kept your arse lifted to meet his hungry strokes. Hunting his own pleasure now, you could all but let your eyes roll the back of your head. He was fucking you so good… Billy hit all the right spots inside you and his stamina… fuck, all of the other guys you had been with would have creamed their pants long before you could have brought your lips anywhere near their dick.

It felt good… it felt so good… oh god.

“You gonna come for me again, babe?”

You nodded and hummed in response, too dazed for a coherent answer, feeling yourself tightening around his hard cock right before you exploded a second time. Pleasure coursed through your body, filling you from head to toe.

Billy grunted. He fucked you through your climax relentlessly, stilled only moments later when his own release overwhelmed him and he emptied himself into the condom. Shit, for a second you wished you’d have asked him to fuck you raw just so you could feel him coating your walls with his seed. You whined when he withdrew. But there was always a next time. You’d make sure of it.

You were certain now that you didn’t actually hate Billy Hargrove. You had hated how much you had wanted him.

“I think I’ll need a… ‘massage’ after every training session from now on. Your lessons are so exhausting,” you said, panting.

Billy helped you turn around and stand up straight, naked bodies pressed against each other. He grinned, his lips ghosting over yours. “You know what, I think so too, doll.”

A/N: Check out my blog for more Imagines and my original novel(s)! ♥

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #stranger things #stranger things imagine #dacre montgomery

[shomixremix]

Hiii! >~< could you make march 8th head canons (what genshin men do on womens day as ur bf!) fluff! sorry English isn’t my first language but I looove your work! This is my first request I’m so nervous ^_^ !! 🌸🌸🌸

If you have time to do this could you add Kaveh, Xiao , Wanderer and Diluc? Thank you in advance <333

International women's day with them ♡︎

hii anon!! don't be nervous, you can always request anything, lovely ♡︎ thank you sm for your request!!

and english isn't my first language too hehe

also i'm so sorry if this doesn't sound like him, i'm not really used to writing for wanderer😭😭

tags: kaveh, xiao, wanderer, diluc, female!reader, fluff, implied smut (yet nothing described), kissing, international women's day, feministic themes

-> of course, your boyfriend should treat you like a goddess everyday, yet there's that one special day every march where he shows his favorite woman a special kind of treatment.

reqs open ♡︎

-> kaveh

"hi, my love!" your blonde lover chirped as you blinked your eyes open. where were you? what's happening?

"mh.. kaveh?" you ask sleepily, rubbing your eyes while you yawn, still half asleep. you can't even think before a bouquet of sumeru roses is shoved in your face.

"happy 8th of march, baby! flowers for my beautiful flower~" he teased cheesily, and you softly laugh. your arms drape around his neck, bringing him closer.

"you're so corny," you chuckle again, eyelids half-open, "but thank you"

"heh, you still love me" he smiles wide, pressing a warm peck on the tip of your nose. "c'mon now, get up, baby. we're going out today"

your eyes flutter wide open, your mouth a little agape. "out? but, don't you have work? you've spent all week complaining about that client.."

"i can take a day off" he mumbles, kissing you again. "it's been so long since I last took you on a date, anyway. now's the perfect time, hm? so come on, get up! we got a whole day's worth of dates!"

he pulls the covers of your shared bed impatiently, trying to get you to get up as fast as possible. the architect grabs your legs, dragging you out from the soft bed.

"noo, kaveh..", you try to protest, "what kinda guy are you if you don't wanna let me sleep on women's day?!"

"the kinda guy who loves his girlfriend and wants to spend time with her! now, c'mon!"

-> xiao

as an adeptus, xiao has lived long and has seen many things change over the years. one of those things are different holidays and celebrations amongs the mortals.

do not get him wrong - he absolutely agrees that all different genders should have equal rights, why wouldn't they? he's a big supporter, he even participated in marches and fights himself! he just didn't get the whole deal with flowers and chocolates.

weren't those kinds of things reserved for another confusing mortal ritual, called "valentine's day" or something?

however, all that changed once he started dating you. suddenly, he realized that kind of attention was important to you and he wanted to give it to you. he wanted you to feel loved and wanted and seen, no matter how much he didn't understand human customs.

"xiao?" you ask a little stunned as the adeptus appears before you with a Qingxin flower in his hand. "what's.. what's going on?"

"for you", he simply regards, giving you the beautiful flower, "i wish you a very joyous women's freedom day"

"aww, xiao, thank you, you shouldn't have!" you press a soft kiss on his cheek, and you could practically feel him blush.

"i simply wanted to express my gratitude and sympathy for you" he slowly continues, clearing his throat.

"this day is a celebration of the female gender, is it not? it's only right i celebrate the most important important woman in my life"

you simply melt at his words, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. he was the most important man in your life, too.

-> wanderer

"here" he muttered, hiding his face away from you as he shoved some hand-picked flowers in your face.

"what's.. this? are you okay, hon?"

he blushed furiously as the petname rolls of your tounge, getting more and more embaressed by the second. he so badly wanted to yell at you not to call him that, yet he swallowed his words for the ocassion.

"i'm fine" he coldly said, his gaze still away from you.

"and those are flowers. flowers, for you."

"for me?" you repeat back in shock, unsure how to react to your boyfriend's sudden display of affection. he never before did something like this, so your confusion was more than understandable.

"for women's day" his usually cold voice had a slightly embaressed tone in it, which cought you off guard. "and you are a woman, so it was only logical. if you don't want them-"

"no, no!" you protest immediately, taking the flowers from his hand eagerly.

"i love them! they are so beautiful! thank you.."

you softly kiss his cheek, making him blush. he says nothing, yet he silently tangles his fingers with yours, holding your hand as the two of you stroll away.

-> diluc

"diluc? love, aren't you going to angel's share? what are you still doing home?"

you softly ask your fiancé as you decend down the stairs of the dawn winery. you're still in your nightgown, hair a little dishvelled, eyes still a little puffy. he smiles at the image of his beautiful future wife, in disbelief that he was the one to put that shiny ring on your finger.

"no, not today, my dear. i took today off to spend time with you. it is a special ocassion, after all"

"oh? a special ocasion? what are we celebrating?"

he smiles softly, looking at you with pure adoration: "it's women's day, darling. it's only right to spend my day with a woman important to me. and who could be more important than my future wife?"

your eyes lit up in excitement as you make your way down, taking his hand he held out for you. "really? we get the whole day for ourselves?"

"mhm", he hummed in agreement, grabbing you closer.

"well, i have presents first, but yeah. i thought we could go for a walk along the starfell lake... if you're not up for that, you know i don't mind staying home all day"

"presents? you really shouldn't have, diluc.." you softly chuckle in awe as you look around the large living room, noticing the many flowers and a few boxes of what looks like jewelery and sweets.

"what can i say? i love spoiling my future wife"

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin fluff #kaveh #genshin kaveh #kaveh fluff #kaveh x you #kaveh x reader #xiao #genshin xiao #xiao fluff #xiao x reader #xiao x you #wanderer #scaramouche #wandered fluff #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #genshin wanderer #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc fluff #diluc x reader #diluc x you #fluff #female reader #request #anon request #requests open

[weemsfreak]

Nobody Like You

Happy Valentines! Whether you enjoy this commercial holiday or not, do/buy something nice for yourself! Larissa would want you to ;)

I suppose this is a more joyful part/addition to my story All The Time

Platonic Larissa Weems x StudentReader ~3.1k words

You knew of nobody who felt the same.

Nobody who recognized, no-

revelled in the beauty of women as they aged, as the depths of their emotion became more evident in their skin, as they formed crows feet, as they became wiser;

as they lived.

Nobody like you.

You always felt that it was rather odd, to bask in their light, their entire being, and let it absorb you completely, to the point where you cared about nothing and nobody else.

It hurt, knowing that they didn't feel the same about you.

It led you to believe that you were ugly, unwanted, a sliver of a soul compared to them, insignificant.

Recently, however, you've grown just a bit.

You’ve began to tell yourself that you are rather lucky.

You have the privilege to see what others don't and feel what they never could.

You have been graced with the ability to learn and admire.

Women have taught you many things over the years, although, you didn't realize until now.

You have been blessed with the ability to adore and cherish them, perhaps when nobody else cared to do so.

As odd as you may feel, pressured by societal norms, women make you feel alive.

You allow your dark thoughts to get the best of you, until you remember that there is good in everything.

Something has to make you feel, you have to live for something.

And so, despite the hurt, and the confusion, and the guilt, you let it make you feel.

You let yourself feel and you tell yourself that maybe women deserve you, in a way that you're willing to give and a way they're willing to accept.

Maybe they deserve to be admired, maybe they deserve to be cared for.

Maybe they deserve to be looked at like they hung the stars and crafted the moon, maybe they deserve to feel beautiful.

Of course, you didn't think 'maybe'; you had no doubt they did.

But they have been beaten and bruised and used, and therefore they didn't see it in themselves.

You knew they didn't.

So you thought and thought and finally accepted the fact that maybe this was your purpose in life, no matter how insignificant you felt.

Maybe your purpose was to make women feel worthy, by a gesture, a compliment, or a glance, even if you didn't feel worthy yourself.

For perhaps maybe one day a woman would come along and do the same for you.

And until then, you'll long for them, admire them, and soak in their beauty in the way that you're willing to, and in the way that they're willing to accept.

And until then, that will be enough.

༺♥༻

You were observant, very detail oriented. People always told you that.

It gave others the illusion that you cared.

That was a good thing, and you took it as such.

That was, until those times where being observant hurt, where the fact that you actually did care so much hurt.

It hurt when you noticed her become increasingly tired, more irritated, and less enthusiastic throughout the year.

It hurt when you saw less of her, when the events became more bland, and when that usual sparkle in her eyes as she spoke dulled.

Usually it was with utmost passion, but lately, you could see that she was forcing it.

Faking it like her life depended on it.

You could chalk up your recognition of these changes in her to your observant nature, you could.

But, you knew it was way more than that.

She was your inspiration, your motivation, and your love.

She was the beauty, madness, and order of the entire universe.

And, she was sad, lonely, and tired.

So no, you didn't just notice her or recognize these changes; they were thrown at you with force and left bruises on your chest. They bled internally and seeped through your tissue to your heart until it hurt.

༺♥༻

You winced as she stepped up to the podium, stumbling as she failed to pick her heeled foot up high enough.

No, she didn’t fall, for if she had have, you would've ran up to her, despite being more than ten feet away, and caught her as she did.

Instead, she recovered and gave a sheepish smile to the crowd. You smiled back to make her feel better, knowing she wasn't looking your way.

You watched with bated breath as she walked through the corridor, face void of emotion.

Nothing wrong with that, really, people would tell you that you had resting bitch face.

But, as it was characteristic of you, it wasn't characteristic of her.

Usually she greeted students with a smile that gave you the strength to get through the rest of your day.

Sometimes she even gave you a nod or a wink, or if it were a blessed day, a gentle hand on your shoulder as she asked how you were.

But now, as she strutted through the crowd of teachers and students, you knew that she was tired.

One night, you found her at the weathervane, ordering a hot chocolate and a croissant.

It was a Friday night as she sat at a booth across from you, your heartbeat picking up rapidly as you watched light hair and long legs stride past.

You didn't know much of her personal life, she was your principal, after all.

But, despite your inability to understand why, you knew deep down to your soul that she was lonely.

Lonely like you.

And as you watched her sip her hot chocolate alone, her eyes wandering around the café and painfully landing on you, you thought that you were rather lucky, and you made her a promise.

You would never stop trying to make her feel beautiful.

You would never stop trying to bring her some joy.

Maybe you were young and naive, and maybe you were nothing to her, but some kind words and a kind gesture, someone who really cared, could mean the world.

You really had nothing to lose, (besides your dignity) and so, you put your pride aside, and made it your purpose to help her feel worthy; even if you didn't feel worthy yourself.

You smiled, she smiled back with a nod. Standing, you grabbed your drink and made your way to her booth. As you stood across from her, reluctantly gazing down into her blue eyes, you found that they held galaxies, the secrets of the universe, the weight of the outcast world, and perhaps the normal as well.

"May I?"

She nodded, gesturing with a gloved hand to the empty seat across from her.

You had no clue what to say. Well, without sounding totally creepy.

'How are you? Sad, lonely, bored, scared, confused? Because I am.

But I'm just clueless and young, and I'm just obsessive and dumb, and you are…intelligent and worthy and beautiful.

There is nobody like you.'

No, you couldn't say any of that, because she didn't know you like you knew her, and she didn't love you like you loved her, and she didn't think you were worthy like you thought of her.

"How have you been Principal Weems? I haven't seen you much lately, busy?"

She nodded and let her gaze fall to her hot chocolate, "Yes, it's quite busy this time of year. Very tiring."

'Of course it is, it must be busy running a whole school, let alone a school full of outcasts.

It must be busy planning events in hopes of keeping our heads out of the gutter and opening our eyes to the world.

It must be tiring caring for us when nobody else does, being the only one who gives a shit and being the only one to try.

It must be tiring fighting to live with yourself, it must be tiring praying and hoping to finally feel happy, to finally feel loved.'

Because it was, you knew, it was every second of everyday.

It was busy. It was tiring.

But you didn't say any of that.

You looked down at your hands as you twisted them in your lap.

"If it's any reconciliation, I think Nevermore is running really smooth lately. I feel safe here, and I really enjoyed the last event that you planned."

Suck up? No. You probably sounded like it, hell you were expecting her to say it.

People have in the past when you were just trying to be…kind.

But Principal Weems wasn't judgemental or rude, she wasn't a prude, and she wasn't suspicious of you.

A crooked smile pulled at her lips as her eyelashes fluttered, "Thank you, darling."

She placed an open hand on the table, your eyes flit between it and her gaze, then you placed your hand in hers.

"I appreciate your acknowledgement, I'm glad you feel safe here."

Of course you would acknowledge her, yearn for her, bathe in her entire being, feel safe under her authority, feel safe in her care.

Of course you would admire her from afar and wish that she would at least notice you back.

Of course you were trembling, attempting to steady your hand in her soft and gentle touch.

"Of course. We see how hard you work for us, how much you care."

'We' really meant 'me', but she didn’t need to know that.

For maybe the teachers and your peers and the people of Jericho noticed, maybe they noticed her input and effort, maybe they saw her anger and fear, maybe they knew of her loneliness and betrayal, but you were the only one to say anything, you were the only one to give a shit.

You were the only one to do something about it.

༺♥༻

And do something you did.

February came around rather quickly, your peers making Valentines and 'Galenites' plans in front of your very eyes.

You didn't think much of this commercial holiday, but you knew that some dreaded the day, being surrounded by people who had someone who loved them. Or at least liked them.

And since you had no partner, no love, no like, and no real friends; you had no plans.

No plans until you willed yourself to make some.

You planned with more effort and care than you ever had in your life, pushed away your immense fear of rejection, and made a promise to her.

For when the day came, you would make sure she knew she was admired, and you would make sure she knew she was cared for, as she had done for Nevermore.

As she had done for you.

༺♥༻

That morning, you printed a photo from a recent outing, one in which you were standing next to her, your smile stretched from ear to ear, unlike any other photo you had ever taken.

You made your classmates sign the back as a kind gesture for the principal, hoping to make it look as though you were not the only one in on it.

During your lunch you basically ran into Jericho, to the flower shop and the Weathervane.

When school ended, you made your way to your dorm and grabbed her things.

Walking to her office with pride in your chest and butterflies in your stomach, you prayed that she would be there. Yet at the same time, you knew that she would be.

With bated breath you stared at the large wooden doors, closing your eyes and reaching out a hand.

Show her she's beautiful, show her that you care, show her that she's not alone, show her that you love her.

You knocked, and backed away.

The door opened with a creak as the principal gazed down at you.

She trailed her eyes over the items in your hands, a red gift bag and light pink roses, and a question rang in her head.

"Hello darling" she smiled, scrunching up her nose as she looked down at you with interest.

"Hi Principal Weems" you nervously stuttered.

She tilted her head in confusion, and then she understood.

"Those are beautiful roses you have there. I assume you want my help in their delivery, perhaps?"

Your heart fell as she peered down at you, eyes weary, lips pulled up at the corners with a soft grin that would let one believe she was alright, that she was fulfilled, that she was happy.

But, you knew better, it was her fake smile, her professional façade, her signature expression that screamed 'I am the headmistress and nobody can get to me'.

Show her that she's worthy.

You shook your head. "Um, no actually. They're for you."

You held the flowers out, watching as blue eyes landed on the roses being presented to her, mouth opening slowly in disbelief.

A hand reached out carefully, "For me?"

You nodded with a smile.

She took them and opened the door, moving a hand to your back to invite you in.

Placing the roses on her desk, she admired them as her head swam.

Was this a joke? Would she have to explain to you why she couldn't fancy you back? What was going on? Why? Could you really just be…innocent and sincere?

You could tell that her thoughts were going a mile per minute, so you stepped closer.

"I just wanted you to know how inspiring and cared for you are."

Her gaze quickly turned to you, eyebrows furrowing in attempt to understand, to believe.

Noticing her skepticism, you placed the gift bag onto her desk.

"We wanted to get you something to say thank you, that's all."

She reached for the bag and pulled out the framed photo, her eyebrows softening as she found students signatures and comments on the back, a special note from you.

She chewed at her bottom lip, and your heart swelled with joy at how beautiful she was.

Running a slender hand over the glass frame, she set it on her desk along with the roses.

Her eyes, filled with mirth, met yours as she reached into the bag and found a package of croissants from the Weathervane.

A grateful chuckle escaped her, and she placed a hand on her chest as she pouted.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously.

"I uh- I figured you had plans tonight, so I'm sorry if I'm keeping you from them. I just wanted to give these to you now, otherwise I probably wouldn't have at all."

The principal looked to the ceiling as a toothy smile puffed out her cheeks.

The lines in her skin became more defined when she smiled like that, and you longed to reach out and trail your fingers along her skin.

She was truly gorgeous, her smile was your lifeline.

You couldn't help but press your lips together into a small grin, desperately fighting the urge to burst at the seems.

She dropped the croissants onto her desk and opened her arms to you; you hesitated, looking up at her with what you hoped she would know was sincerity.

Her eyes watered and her lower lip trembled, and you let go, throwing yourself gently into the woman as you felt her long arms pull you against her warmth.

"Thank you, love, thank you" she whispered, sniffling into your hair.

You closed your eyes as you felt yourself tear up, and focused on the softness of her dress against you, her skin against yours, sighing as you finally felt comfort, finally felt care.

You were honestly proud of yourself. To see her happy, even if for a moment, to see her smile again, it was worth it, embracing your purpose.

She pulled away and wiped her eyes, looking down at the pink roses once more.

"I really appreciate you thinking of me darling, but I'm sure you want to get to your people."

You embarrassingly followed her gaze to the pink roses, rubbing your sweaty hands on your pants.

"I um, don't have any plans, or people. But I'll go, I'm sure you have somewhere to be."

Her gaze met yours in surprise, she tilted her head to the side in question.

"You don't have plans tonight?"

It was adorable when she did that, like a curious little puppy.

You shrugged, "No."

She pursed her lips into a lopsided smile, "Me neither."

Principal Weems wouldn't tell you how she really felt, for you knew her professionalism was of utmost importance. Her job, her image, her look, built up from the ground, her character exuded confidence and sophistication.

But occasionally, you had the ability, the privilege, to see through Principal Weems.

Sometimes when you looked deep enough into her eyes, into her soul, you found Larissa.

And Larissa, well she was someone you yearned to know.

She was someone you longed to touch.

She was someone you knew that you'd love.

And, you felt as if, right now, you could see a little bit of her, unwillingly yet necessarily crawling her way out after years of hiding, as she stared back at you with appreciation and tears.

Larissa had wished deeply that she would find someone with whom to make Valentine's plans, or maybe even just normal everyday plans.

But as the years went by, she lost hope.

And so, she stopped trying, she stopped caring, she stopped feeling worthy.

But, you came along, to her total surprise, with a kind and thoughtful gesture.

She scoffed on the inside, who would think of their principal on Valentines day?

Who would buy gifts for a lonely old woman?

Who would notice, who would care about her?

As she asked herself these questions, her brain ceased its fire, for she found the answers in your lingering gaze.

Her heart paused, or so it felt like it, when she realized that for the first time in a long time, someone could see right through her.

Someone could see her façade wear off, her failure to pick her heeled foot up, her rapidly dulling eyes and her loneliness.

Someone could see it, and that someone cared enough to do something about it.

And, as if you knew her brain suddenly filled with self doubt and panic, you summoned the courage to tell her exactly how you felt.

"I admire you very much, Principal Weems" you hesitated, "and Larissa. I hope I'm lucky enough to be as beautiful as you are one day, inside and out."

Someone thought she was beautiful, someone admired her.

Someone looked up to her.

Someone thought that she was worthy.

Someone had no plans for Valentine's, and she shivered at the thought of someone following in her footsteps, her unlucky streak of lonely and sorrow filled years.

Her heart ached as she thought about how someone felt just as she did.

For nobody had gotten to her before, nobody had attempted to get past the force that was Principal Weems; nobody had cared enough to find and to know Larissa.

Nobody like you.

"You know, I have Valentine's cookies that I was going to bake by myself."

Larissa chuckled at her embarrassing admittance.

"Would you like to bake them together?"

༺♥༻

#larissa weems #gwendoline christie #principal larissa weems #gwendolineuniverse #wednesday netflix #larissa weems fanfic #wlw #sapphic yearning #principal weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw longing #lesbian

[yup-thats-me]

all for you • Gabimaru.

pairing: Gabimaru x wife!reader

synopsis: his wife has given him the best gift of all. a baby ; the reader is pregnant.

warning: pregnancy.

note: I'm delulu I know but I can't help it. let me be delulu in peace 😌

"y/n, let's take you to the village doctor, yeah?" Gabimaru said, stroking the back of his wife lovingly as she threw up.

this was the fourth time this week and it was making Gabi worry about his wife. obviously she's his the only reason to stay alive. it was for her that he made it out alive from Shinsenkyo alive, no matter the dangerous situations he faced. it was all for her. now that she's unwell made his insides churn in fear. if anything happens to her, maybe he'll burn down the entire country.

however, y/n partially knew what the problem was, just a little uncertain.

"Okay...", she spoke slowly, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. she slowly drank the water Gabi gave her. by the help of her husband, she stood up slowly, walking back inside the house to get dressed to visit the doctor.

"do you want me to help you change, y/n?" Gabimaru offered.

it won't be the first time that he'd help his wife get dressed. he had done it a number of times, but this time, y/n turned down his offer.

she smiled at him softly, "I'm quite alright. just be outside ill come in a bit, okay?" She kissed him on the cheek.

Gabi nodded, waiting outside the room, pacing I'm anticipation.

inside the room on the other hand, y/n was already dressed. she stood in front of the mirror, caressing her stomach deliberately. "can it really be true?" She wishpered.

when she came out, Gabi put his hand around her waist, walking slowly. y/n felt weak. every now and then, she held Gabi more tighter as the two walked. finally, the two reached the doctor's place.

"how many days has it been?" the doctor, an elderly woman asked the couple.

the two looked at each other for a second. "this has been going on for more than a week," Gabi replied for y/n.

the woman nodded. "can I talk to y/n alone for a moment?"

Gabimaru shot the woman a suspicious look but nevertheless agreed when y/n squeezed his hand, silently telling him that its alright. again, Gabi stepped out from the room and sat outside.

so many thoughts ran amok his head. what if y/n is terminally ill? or some incurable disease that will take her from him? no. he won't let that happen. even if it was an incurable disease, he'll die with her. no questions asked. and if the disease was curable, he'll do everything in his power to cure back his y/n. he made so many assumptions about y/n's hypothetical diseases, never for once did he think she might be pregnant. he's that thick skinned when it comes to y/n. he forgets to think anything logical when it comes to her.

few minutes later, the two women stepped out the house. Gabi ran to y/n. seeing her smiling made him relax just a bit.

"well? what is it?"

the woman giggled. "I'll leave you two to it. Best of luck", she said going back inside the room leaving the couple alone.

y/n seemed to be avoiding any eye contact with Gabi. "y/n you're making me nervous again. tell me what the problem is!"

"Gabi...you're going to be a father", Y/n replied slowly. she laughed internally as the look on Gabi's face changed from anxious to a confused one. "...huh?"

y/n blushed. "Gabimaru, I am pregnant, woth your child." She spoke nervously. she knew Gabi won't be angry at the news but still she was hesitant.

Gabi stood in his spot not miving even an inch. "Oh my god," He said sitting on the ground. He was too happy to speak. Y/n smiled, kneeling down beside him. "shh...its okay." She hugged her husband as her husband broke down in her hold.

she made Gabi face her, wiping his tears away. "are you okay?"

Gabi smiled at her, hugging her close. "Okay? I'm far more than okay! you've made me the happiest man alive, Y/n!" He laughed, kissing her shortly.

the two also went to the market on their way back,buying sweets and Y/n watched with a smile as her husband gave the sweets tk everyone for the good news. he even fed the stray dogs. he was happy, he wanted the world to celebrate too!

when the two reached home, Y/n was about to enter the kitchen to prepare the dinner, when Gabi stopped her. "And what do you think you're doing?"

Y/n looked at him confused. "We have to have dinner too. you know," She giggled, making Gabi's face tinted with bright red. "Of course I know. but I won't allow you to cook. I'll do it." He said.

"Why, darling? you want to eat something different? tell me and I'll make it. why should you make dinner?"

"No. from now onwards, you can't cook, clean, or do any work. I'll do it all. You and our baby need rest," He said, scratching the back of his head. his statement made y/n giggle. "But anat, I'm just two weeks in. I can still work."

Gabimaru shook his head. "No. I said I'll do all the work. all you have to do is rest. I can't have you working in this condition. I want both my baby and my wife to be healthy," He said caressing your belly. You smiled at him, knowing there's no way of changing his mind now. so you gave up.

as Gabimaru prepared the dinner, so many thoughts came to his mind. family. a family. it was always had been just a word for Gabimaru. he believed he'd never be able to have a family, not a person like him. he was a monster. how can a monster have a family? but then you came along. you healed his scars, made him look at the world differently. it was yiu who taught him that this world is a beautiful place if one knew how to look at it. he is forever greatful to you. he always will be. he prays now, something he'd never ever done. he prays to the Almighty that you'll always stay with him. he promises to love you endlessly, and now that he's soon going to have a baby, he wishes to become the best father that there ever is. he wants to become perfect for you. all for you.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated!!

#gabimaru #hell's paradise #gabimaru x reader #gabimaru x you #gabimaru x wife!reader #hell's paradise x reader #jigokuraku #jigokuraku x reader #gabimaru x y/n #anime x reader #anime x you #anime x y/n #anime imagine #anime fanfic #fluff #wife!reader #pregnant!wife!reader #gabimaru the hollow