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smuttyaf · 6 months

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Tag, You’re It

𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲

wc: 4.3k

dom/sub, slapping, exhibitionism & very rough sex

The houses that you grew up around stand tall and sturdy after many years on the residential street. Trees still holding their colourful leaves while some skid amongst the ground when the wind picks up. Your free hand was buried into your pocket, feeling over the sherpa lining while the other tore the cigarette from your lips and flicked it to the ground.

Heels click against the asphalt, your ears drawing in the sound of music playing from your phone. The sun was already setting on the horizon as you made your way home; school had just finished an hour ago yet it was as if it was nearly the evening, however you were happy.

It was finally Friday and you were delighted to lay in your bed, order in food, and watch whatever movie seemed interesting on Netflix. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip when you felt the gush of wind blow through you, hand now going into your other pocket and welcoming the warmth.

The familiar sound of Harry’s Mustang caught your attention as it peels down the road, the engine could be heard over the music in your headphones. The smell of burning gas fills your nostrils as the presence of it next to you quirks your interest.

Black tires are nearly on the curb as the vibrating hum from inside of the vehicle pours out. Your eyes flick between the side view mirror to the tinted window rolling down, leather seats in your vision. The song in your earbuds comes to an end revealing the loud whistle floating in the space, it makes you roll your eyes and settle your movements.

“Hey baby,” The words were muffled causing you to tug one bud out and turn towards the black coupe.

“Hi,” You say while giving a faint smile, body turning and leaning into the vehicle. The smell of mint and weed was welcomed with the gas in the air, only making your nose wrinkle and eyes look towards green ones.

His hair was messy today, as if he woke up and simply just ran his hands through it and thought it would suffice. His leather jacket was around his shoulders with his usual black attire, fingers dressed with thick sliver rings as they tap against the wheel of the car. A beaming smile was set along his lips which only meant trouble in your eyes.

Harry Styles, the local bad boy who always found himself in mischief. Whether it was for skipping class or dealing weed behind the local corner store, he had a lengthy record already that only grew every other month. Despite everything, it didn’t help that he was a delinquent who was handsome as well; brown curls, heavily tattooed, and face crafted by cherubs, he was hot but not someone you would want to be caught with.

“You go to St. Martins, right?” Harry continues, eyes peering over his black shades and into yours. You couldn’t help the tingle in your spine, it’s happening.

“Uh yeah…” You answer, eyebrows knotting in confusion. Hmm… What exactly did Harry want? Why all of a sudden was he talking to you.

“I go to the public school across from it,” He reveals, only making you let out a laugh.

“I know… I hear,” You say, eyes flickering between his car and him. The whole town knows what Harry’s car sounds like, you could tell he was coming from miles away.

“Is it really that loud?” He says sarcastically, eyebrows pushing together with a bright smile. You roll your eyes in response, your body relaxing a bit while your hands shift around in your pocket.

“You’re a senior too?” He ask, one hand leaving the wheel and landing on the middle console, making him lean in closer.

“Yeah,” You simply respond, looking at the way his hair falls over his forehead.

“What a coincidence…” Harry remarks, smirk now stretching across his lips as he leans his head to the side. “You know I always see you walking when I’m driving home… I can always drop you off?” He suggests. You feel your heart drop in your chest and stomach twist.

As much as you want to get into this dangerously handsome man’s car, you know you shouldn’t. Yes, you both grew up in the same town together and are around the same age but, you don’t know Harry. You bite down on your bottom lip, fingers twisting in your jacket as you pull away from the door and stand straight.

“I appreciate it but I’m good,” You say, another faint smile spreading on your lips as you watch Harry’s head now lean back, charcoal frames covering his eyes completely.

“Oh come on… It’s cold and my ride is nice and warm,” Harry remarks, lips curling and foot leaning off the brakes as the car begins to peel away slowly. You shake your head and begin your previous movements towards your house. Yes, it was cold outside but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle, you didn’t need a ride from him.

“I can cut your walk down by three minutes,” He continues, the heels of your boots echoing against the concrete.

“I’m good!” You call back, hand slipping out of your jacket and taking your headphone to put back in your ear.

“Let me drop you home,” Harry responds, only making you roll your eyes again, chewing down on your bottom lip.

His calls proceed ranging from “I can bring you home,” to drawn out “Hello’s,” but to each one you ignored. Your feet continue to carry you but at a much faster pace than before. The only thing you can think in this moment is where the hell is anyone to witness this.

Soon, you are near the local hiker trail of your town, your head still tucked down at your feet as you peel away from the side walk and cut towards the path. Now you were stepping on dry leaves with your heart pounding through your ears, you let your head twist around swiftly to where you see Harry’s coupe.

Windows up and blowing smoke in the air as it was parked against the curb. At that point you begin to jog lightly through the forest; boots breaking sticks and hands swishing by your side as you tried to navigate where you go from there. It wasn’t normal for you to take this path home, you always stick to your usual route but now there was an obstacle in your way.

Chest heaving and heart beating uncontrollably, you kept turning your head around to see if he was still even following you. Maybe you were actually going crazy thinking that the Harry Styles would be following you just because you declined a ride home from him but, just as you twist your head around to look in front of you, you immediately bump into a warm chest, eyes peering up and locking with his.

“Did you really think you could get away from me?” He questions, voice slow as he steps closer to you, making you take one back. A smirk rests on Harry’s lips, arms linking together with the smell of his scent filling your nose.

The only thing you could do was stare, you were not expecting Harry to be standing in front of you right now. Where did he even come from and how could you not have heard him. Now your chest was pinching with pains as your nerves were driving you up the wall.

“I asked you a question.” Harry states. Lips in a line as he took another step towards you.

“I—I don’t need a ride home,” You mutter, fingers going to the ends of your black skirt as you feel over the pantyhose there.

“That wasn’t the question.” He says, hand now tearing away from him and gripping your elbow. That only makes a gasp slip from your lips and eyes bulge.

“Let go of me,” You mutter, trying to break free from his hold but that only makes him apply more pressure.

“Answer my question,” Harry insists, the strength he has on your arm pulling you closer into his chest.

You swallow once again, the wetness between your legs already beginning to flood your panties as you try to not break character. You bite down on your bottom lip, eyes flickering between the sliver zippers on his jacket to his olive globes.

“Yes.” You say calmly, the trees rustling as the sky begins to fade to grey.

The heat of Harry’s palm is welcomed across your cheek, his hand tearing away from your elbow and gripping your hair as he tugs your head back to look at you with a grin on his face. You bit down harder on your bottom lip to try and suppress yourself. Your hands move away from your skirt and hold onto Harry’s biceps, your eyes peering up at him through your mascara coated lashes as you gently try to push him off you.

“Let go,” You cry, only making the grip he has in your hair tighten as he tugs your head down. A hiss leaving your lips making your eyes flutter.

“What are you gonna do about it? Huh?” Harry smirks, pulling your hair again and that makes your eyes close and a painful moan escape. The feeling of your head throbbing as his fingers toy with the hairs, it had your thighs pressing together and teeth going back to dig in the flesh.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” He mutters, eyes searching for any hesitation. Fuck you were so turned on, the way he can be aggressive with you one second to loving the next.

One night after Harry snuck through your window, with shared spliff between the both of you following a heated make out session, he somehow manage to get you to confess to one of your most intimate desires. He agreed to do it however, only on his terms; which only made you grow with excitement because you never knew when he would play along to your fantasy. So, when you opted to act clueless to him and he encouraged the idea that you both don’t know each other you knew what was about to happen, and that made your heat throb between your legs.

“Yes,” You whimper, lips immediately welcomed with Harry’s, the taste of mint burning on yours. You moan immediately, hands relaxing against Harry’s arms as you let yourself get wrapped up in him.

One of his hands fall from your hair to roam down your back and cup your ass, pushing him deeper into you and welcoming you into his warmth. His other hand ran down the nape of your neck to hug the skin there, tongues twisting around each other as you submit yourself fully to him. Harry’s scent fills your nose, just the smell of his cologne alone had your knees bending in weakness. You couldn’t help how aroused you are, the feeling of his growing member pressing against you only reassures you that he wants this too.

“On your knees.” He commands, tearing away from your lips. Fingers now lace in your hair as you let your legs squat down and look up at him, your hands falling to his hips and running over his thick bulge.

Black nails fumble over each other as you undo his belt and relieve him, tongue running over your bottom lip looking at hard he is; angry veins running along the base to tip varying in size, you take one of your hands off your hip and let it dip between your thighs, the way his cock looks in front of you made you want to come from the sight.

“Hmph,” You hum, when you feel Harry’s hand tug your hair back to make you peer up at him, his face cold with lips glistening with the mixture of you both.

“Did I say you can touch yourself?” He asks, only making you shake your head slightly. This causes him to yank your head again. “I asked a question.” He stated, voice strong and raw. God, you wanted him to fuck you right there.

“No,” You say, hand tearing away from your thighs and going to fall to his pelvic bone, your other messaging his thigh.

“Good girl,” Harry hums, his fingers relaxing and massaging your scalp as you lean forward. Hands going to the base of his shaft as your tongue dips out of your mouth and runs over the slit of his head, licking over the dip before letting your lips suckle his crown.

Saliva coats your lips, sinking deeper and deeper until you find a good rhythm, head slightly bobbing while feeling him stretch your throat with each flex. Harry’s left hand welcomes itself on your cheek, letting himself have a grip over your mouth and making his hips rock into you. You halt your movements, eyes fluttering up to look up at him as he delve into your throat, lips spreading around his thick member letting him thrust into you.

“Gonna be a good girl for me,” Harry says, eyes hooded and fingers tensing against your jaw, making you moan as you tear away from him.

“Yes,” You breathe out looking up at him, hands going to the base of his shaft and running over the coated member. He looks so sexy staring down at you; hair framing his face, teeth tucked on top the skin of his lips while he focuses on tearing your throat apart just the way you want.

Your response causes him use to use the grip he has on your jaw to make you lean forward and welcome him into your mouth once again, hand now massaging whatever you can’t fit while the other ran up and down his clothed thigh.

The sound of Harry’s dick rocking into your throat fills your ears as tears begin to swell your waterline, the thickness of him down your throat only making it ache as he halts his hips, fingers holding you still as he shoves himself down, his waist halting as you take him all the way.

You watch his head knock back and the fingers in your hair relax, a sigh of relief escapes him. He holds you like that for what felt like two minutes until he pulls his hips back, a deep breath drawing from you before he’s rocking into you like that four more times and you feel your throat burn from the stretch.

A pleasant hum leaves your ruined throat as Harry pulls himself away from you, letting a trail of saliva link between your lips and his cock. “Look so perfect like this,” Harry sighs, hand slipping from your hair and wiping the string of spit.

You blink up at him, holding back tears as you feel your throat burn in pleasure. You were afraid if you spoke it would come out as a squeal, so instead you bite down on your swollen lip at the piece of thickness in front of you, glistening in your fluid.

Harry watches your gaze go to his cock, a smirk now adoring his features. His grip on your jaw releases and goes to your shoulders, bringing you back to stand up, his hands now falling to your hips and turning you around to shove you against the dried out stream that had trees framing it with others further back. It makes more privacy for the area because of the hanging branches.

Your feet stumble over the loose rocks, while your chest presses against the old tree. Harry’s hands feel your backside in his grip before taking your skirt in hand and peeling it over the flesh. His fingers immediately going to your stockings, ripping the material causing you to let out a small gasp when you feel the cool air hit your bottom.

“Fuck… Look at you,” He whispers, his hands going to your lace panties and pressing his fingers against your heat, the cold metal from his rings erupts a broken moan to escape your lips. Three fingers rub against you, playing with your clit, making the wet spot you were squatting in spread against your folds.

“Baby,” You cry, voice raw and raspy, it basically pained you to talk. Your nails dig into the dry lumber as you push your hips back.

That lands a hard smack to your cheeks, a whimper now leaving you and eyes fluttering shut. All you want was Harry to fuck you till you see stars; you want him to fill you up so bad you will be walking funny tomorrow.

“Thought you were gonna be a good girl,” Harry hums, the feeling of his hand spreads against your red cheeks were he places three more strikes on your flesh, heavy and painful due to the added feeling of the rings on his fingers. His chest against your back, member aligned with your heat and rubbing against you, making your head knock against the tree.

“Baby,” You moan, voice small as you feel his breath against your ear. Your eyes open as you prop your foot against the stump. Your backside sinking back and nearly making the head of his dick enter you.

“Want me so bad, don’t you?” Harry questions. Running himself between your dripping folds which only has you arching your back into him. You nod your head silently, eyes turning to see the position you’re in. Harry was completely towering over you, hips parallel with yours as his lips were warm against the skin behind your ear.

“Talk to me love,” He breathes into you, making you whimper and push yourself down onto him more. The head of his dick rubbing against your clit and sending pleasure up your legs. “Beg for me.” He continues into your ear, making your heart pound in your chest. You were so turned on, you want nothing more than for him to fill your walls.

“Please, H. Please let me feel you,” You mumble, left hand tearing away from the wood and skimming against his neck to run into his hair. “Please baby… Been so good to you.” Mutter dazedly, hips gently rocking against his movements.

That makes Harry hum, the noise vibrating against the skin of your neck as you feel him draw away from you and let his head breach your hole. Your tongue escaping your mouth to wet your lips as you feel him push into you, spreading your pussy blissfully as he sinks into your dripping heat.

“Mhm my good little girl.” Harry mumbles into your ear, hips meeting your backside only to draw back to dive into you again.

A raspy cry escapes you, the euphoric feeling of him filling you up just where you loved him the most. Your walls welcome him home as he picks up his motions, his lips burning into your skin as he buries himself in you with each thrust. The sound of your whimpers and torn moans was met with the wetness between your legs.

Your pussy throbs with the feeling of him diving into you, the fluid running down your inner thighs making you feel as if you were underwater. Harry’s dick continues thrusting into you so forcibly that it had you curling your fingers into his hair and into the flaking cracks of the tree.

“You love the way I fuck you.” Harry urges, his hand leaving your hip and wrapping around your throat, the feeling of his rings digging into the skin as he squeezed. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

“Yes,” You mutter, your legs slightly quivering from your pussy going sore due to how hard Harry is pounding into you.

“Wanted to be fuck like this all along, huh,” He eggs on, voice so deep in your ear it was if he was your conscience. That had you biting down on your bottom lip, your eyes barely peel open to look at the broken twigs in your vision bouncing from Harry’s movements behind you. The feeling of your oxygen being slowly cut off from the stern hold he has on your neck.

“Dirty girl,” He teases, the hand on your hip shoving your back down on him with each thrust. “Wanted to be my slut for tonight,” The name he gives making you moan, and causing your legs to shiver once again.

“Yes, all yours,” You moan breathlessly, your pussy throbbing with the bubbling feeling in your stomach as your back dips down even more to accept the feeling of Harry spreading you apart.

“My good little slut.” Harry hums. You whine as his pace continues, eyes begin to flutter from the lack of air and your climax climbing up your spine.

The intense burning sensation in your stomach causes your hands to grow with sweat as he never slows down his movements, the way he was in you and whispering how dirty you are for getting off to this has your mind in a warp. It felt so good to get the fantasy that you always held in the back of your mind to finally come undone before you.

The fact he pretended to know who you were, yet continued to bother you until he had you vulnerable, you were so turned on playing back the moment of him slapping you and tugging on your hair for playing dumb to him. Just those thoughts had you expelling more wetness out of you and tug Harry’s head deeper into your skin.

He’s thrusting into you roughly as the sunsets along you both with the trees covering your sweaty clothed bodies. “So sexy,” Harry breathes into your skin, his nose brushing up against the back of your neck as the grip on your throat never loosens.

“Fuck,” You choke, vision going blurry as you felt the spit in your throat go down achingly slow.

The pulsing feeling in your clit draws up your spine and makes your toes curl in your boots, knees going weak but Harry didn’t stop his restless movements. Your lungs hammer in your chest, begging for an inch of oxygen as your pussy is drips with your sweet mixture. Your high taking over your nerves and releasing yourself all over him.

The hold Harry has on your neck relieves its grip while the one that forces your hips down was now wrap around you; lifting you into his chest as he keeps on going. Lips still pressing against your hot skin, breath blowing the tiny hairs there while the hand you have in his curls in lets go and falls into the wood.

“God you feel so good,” He rasps in your ear, the foot you had on the stump slipping and making your chest completely lean into the tree now, back meeting his thrusts even more.

The feeling overcoming your climax had you in a complete frenzy, your legs quivering as whimpers and the sound of the wetness emerging from your pussy fills your ears, your eyes begging to close but with each lunge of Harry hips they were jerking back open. Your sight being met with the darkness of the sky and the bunched up leaves by your feet.

“Love fucking your pussy,” Harry grunts, his hand leaving your throat to grip your hair in his hands and tug your head back. A whine tears through your throat, head now looking up at the natural cravings into the tree as the feeling of his hips begin to slow down.

Wet kisses press down your neck as the feeling of him draws out of you before seeping back in, the grasp he has on your hair relaxing as he begins to massage your scalp, his movements of his rolling hips slow until his seed is sinking into you.

It makes Harry groan, his hand turning your head and locking your lips together, the taste of him on your tongue as you drink him in. His hips meeting yours sluggishly until he pulls out of you, his member leaving your sore pussy and letting the fluid of you both spill out. You sigh out from the feeling of his thickness leaving and the mixture running down your ripped up stockings.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” Harry breathes against your lips. The hand he has on your hip slips between your folds and catches the fluid between his two fingers, bringing them to your face.

Your focus goes to them and licks the substance off, tongue twisting between each digit to get every drop.

“My dirty girl,” Harry rasps, his lips sinking back onto yours to taste you both.

The pounding in your chest subsides, your fingers releasing the strong hold they had against the wood as you lean into his touch. The once muffled noise in your ears welcomes the sound of Harry’s jacket jingling.

The bubbling feeling of excitement from your accomplishment tingles your ears and lets a smirk tear and break the kiss. It makes faint one run along his, two fingers that are clean from your tongue holding your jaw with the same grip he had when he was ruining your throat.

“What?”

“If you can do this, I’m sure you’re up for the other fantasies I have…”

#harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #smuttyaf #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #hs #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles fandom #harry styles fic rec #dark harry styles #harry styles kink #harry styles one shots #harry styles dominate

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itostea · 11 months

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never mad (isagi x reader)

warnings: a tad bit suggestive, isagi just being the best bf, he comforts you

a/n: image from Our Secret Alliance! childhood friends to lovers omg so cute pls read it.

You’re not sure when the argument started or why you’re even angry.

Angry might be an exaggeration but you were feeling a smudge of irritation directed at your boyfriend who was far too calm at the sight of your scowl. He has that sweet smile of his, the kind he wears whenever he’s holding your hand or parting a strand of hair away from your face. It’s the kind of smile that you can’t ever stay mad at.

“Yoichi I’m telling you, she was a hundred percent hitting on you!”

“Right, right,” he lets himself be dragged by your hand and he can’t help but sigh at how good you looked with the necklace he bought for you. The streets were crowded and there were couples left and right, holding hands or chatting on the side. The two of you blend in perfectly–though there were times where a fan of his recognized him and you stood on the sidelines, letting them take their photos.

The drink you hold in your other hand swirls around in the cup and you bring the cup to your lips, taking a long sip. “I mean, she even winked at you! Who even does that? And I was right beside you, holding your hand!”

“Uh huh,” he mutters absentmindedly, tilting his head when you swing your head to face him with a frown. He blinks and just smiles, a bit confused as to why your frown grew deeper.

Your footsteps slow down in pacing. “Are you even listening to me?”

“Of course I am babe.”

You let out a huff and turn around too swiftly, colliding into him with a yelp. In a normal situation, you would’ve swooned over the fact that he caught you–his arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other one holds the back of your neck. Yet, you can’t help but feel your stomach plunge deeper when you see the brown stain on his favorite shirt.

“Are you okay?” He mumbles, widening his eyes when he sees how your features morph into a frown and how you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood. This time, he takes your hand in his, guiding you to an occupied bench. “Let’s go sit down.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, letting you clean the splatters on his arm with a tissue.

“It’s just…” you start, leaning back when you’re done cleaning. “I…”

Isagi sees how your eyes gloss over; how you part your lips to release a shaky sigh. He’s quick to cup your face, smiling so gingerly that you felt like you could cry even harder. “Don’t cry. You’ll ruin your make-up.”

The sniffle you let out makes him chuckle. You nod. “Okay…”

“Start from the beginning,” his hands leave your face and he watches you patiently–letting you catch your breath.

“I’m so stupid Yoichi,” you sighed. “I don’t even know why I couldn’t forget about that girl like I usually do. You weren’t even paying attention to her and now I ruined your favorite shirt. I also ruined our date together and you’re probably mad at me so–”

“Why would I be mad at you?” He interrupts, maintaining eye-contact with a serious gaze.

You blink, sniffling again. “You’re not?”

He smiles, nodding his head until his hand tilts your head upward so the tears wouldn’t spill from your eyes. “I can’t get mad at you even if I tried to.”

“Even if I steal your food?”

“I don’t mind.”

“Even if I tell you Michael Kaiser is a better player than you?”

His lips curl into a sarcastic smile and he squeezes your cheeks. “Don’t push it now…”

You laugh and the sound brings joy to his ears. He ushers you up with a hum, letting you take his hand. He presses a kiss to your forehead, bringing you close to him. “How about we spend the rest of our date at home? We can watch a few movies and eat some snacks. You know, Netflix and chill,” his lips fall into a smirk and you forget your boyfriend sometimes derives joy from seeing you flustered.

You slap him lightly, averting your eyes. “Okay fine we can watch movies and eat snacks. And maybe Netflix and chill…” you mumble the last part loud enough for him to hear, earning a laugh from him.

He squeezes your hand midway in between your walk back to the car. “Did I ever tell you that you’re cute when you get jealous?”

“Shut up.”

#isagi #isagi x you #isagi yoichi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #bllk #bllk x you #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock #bllk fluff #fluff

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unlawfulgames · 4 months

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Gourmet Street: Dungeon Meshi meets God of Cookery

With Dungeon Meshi being in public eye again with the Netflix series, I thought it would be a good time to shoutout again about Gourmet Street, my free (tips appreciated) Street Food Fantasy zine! Big thanks to our wonderful artist and layout man @feralindiecharlie

A New Setting! - Gourmet Street, a collection of scattered and bizarrely connected alleyways, it seems to pop up in any settlement large enough to begin thinking of itself as a city. Stacked high in wood carts, laid out on intricate rugs, swimming in a myriad of sauces, food is the name of the game on Gourmet Street.

ONE MILLION Food Vendors and Menus! - Never eat the same thing twice! Generate from 8,000 possible unique food vendors and LITERALLY ONE MILLION possible dishes; ranging from Soft-shelled Crabman Sandwiches with Tzatziki sauce and Egg Coffee, to Myconid Zapiekanka in Pesto with a shot of Absinthe!

Food Factions! - From the hyper-radical (and slightly deranged) Neuvo Gastro-Alchemists, to the fanatical and militant Vinegar Knights, the food factions each come with their own wants, goals, and boons, IF you choose to serve them...

A One-Page Adventure: ESCAPE FROM GOURMET STREET! Help a pair (or trio) of star-crossed lovers escape from Gourmet Street in a Snake-and-Ladders inspired chase! Fend off rival lovers, food cart brawls and escaped dishes as you dash through the alleys of Gourmet Street!

And More! Monsters, magic items, and cookbooks for both Players and GMs to use and abuse!

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qalma-e-azadi · 4 months

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Indian Boycott List (with regard to BDS movement and organic boycotts)

BDS Intensive

Hewlett Packard (HP)

Ahava (Cosmetics)

Puma

Sodastream

NON-PRESSURE (BUT WANTED BOYCOTTS)

Parent Companies

Nestle: Maggi, Nescafe, Boost, KitKat, Milkybar, Nesquik, Munch, Quality Street,

Unilever: Lux, Lakme, Elle 18, Axe, Pond's, Comfort (pads), Dove, Hellman's, Knorr, Lifebuoy, Love Beauty and Planet, Rexona, Sunsilk, Vaseline, St. Ives, Vim, Cornetto, Tresseme

Mondelez: Cadbury, Oreo, Tang, Toblerone

Coco Cola: Fanta, Diet Coke, Sprite, Dasani, Minute Maid

L'oreal: Maybelline Newyork, Garnier, The Body Shop, YSL, Diesel,

PepsiCo: Pepsi, Lay's, Dorritos, Lipton, Tropicana, 7Up, Mirinda

Johnson and Johnson!

Food Chains

KFC

Pizza Hut

Burger King

Starbucks

Domino's

McDonald's

Skincare

Neutrogena

Clinique

The Ordinary

Nivea

Makeup

Nyx

Rimmel London

Mac

Limit ordering from Amazon!

Refrain from using Google as primary search engine!

Cancel Disney and Netflix subscriptions if you haven't!

Please buy from decent organisations, for the sake of humanity!

(Alternatives list coming soon!)

#free palestine #🍉#bds movement

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i0134 · 1 year

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𖥻 THINGS — enhypen ◌ ִ ۫ ּ

syn ; things enha reminds me of !

heeseung !

dangly earrings, pendent chains, skinny ripped jeans, rock guitar, clubbing, late studio night, concerts, rainy empty street, love songs, specs, ice cream, deers, rainforest, going over the speed limit, long drive, polaroids, balcony, tattoos, collage campus, basketball, getting into fist fights, breaking rules, warm breeze, kisses, sharing earphones, untied shoelaces, sleeveless tops, cross jewelries, chase atlantic songs

jay !

red wine, ball dance, guitar, empty kitchen, champagne bubbles, tuxedo suits, runaway, black cat, fashion magazines, gold jewelries, camping, eucalyptus, biking, biker jackets, street racing, late night walks, city lights, porsche, cologne, the weeknd songs, loose tie, fancy restaurant, chanel bags, iced americano, home, long hugs, words of affirmation, eye contact, autumn, posh music, v necks, opera, musical recital, marriage, ancient churches

jake !

pancakes, golden retrievers, empty parks, cardigans, picnic, wolf pups, landscapes, abstract art, lip piercings, makeout sessions, mornings, cream, sheets, swimming, sand castles, tree houses, venus, varsity player, rings, clashing waves, sun shinning through curtains, backyard, champagne, sparkly eyes, netflix and chill, forehead kisses, caramel fudge, winter, jb songs, garden, lilies, lipstick stains

sunghoon !

sculptures, greek mythology, snow, ice skating, pointe shoes, swan lake, ice rinks, rhinestones, vampires, sharp canines, royalty, huskies, novels, cruise, 90s songs, ear muffs, moon phase, poetry, dandelions, maple leaves, vanilla shake, pearls, penguins, blush, lucid dreams, confessions, lullaby, archangels, romance movies, boyfriend coats, monsoon, hair blowing because of the wind, moles, tears, old love, unrequited love, ribbons, weddings

sunoo !

sun, tulip field, solar system, marshmallows, tteobokki, street food, shopping, karaoke, smiles, cute stationeries, stickers, secret diary, cheek kisses, mufflers, red foxes, bratz doll, playdate, selfies, carnations, easter, boba tea, bestfriends to lovers, cherry blossoms, lip gloss, skincare, disney shows, late night face timing, gossiping, watching kdramas, sanrio stuffs, blowing bubbles, photo booths, texts, horizon

jungwon !

kittens, valleys, teenage dream, gold fish, aquariums, subways, cds, headphones, empty bus rides, babybreaths, holding hands, first love, taylor swift songs, messy hair, vacation, countryside, group study, constellations, piggyback ride, dimples, converse, empty classroom, sheep cubs, indoor plants, mini cactus, namsan tower, han river, late fall, vintage hand written letters , young love, romcom, kitties

ni-ki !

graffiti, sunsets, baggy pants, late night dance jam, empty beach, bicycling, sea shore, ear piercings, watermelon, summer, slow dancing, grass field, bungeoppangs, duck chicks, disneyland, ps5, arcade, puma cubs, eskimo kisses, bracelets, youth, climbing fences, skipping school, skateboarding, mangas, school festivals, footsies, cute band aids, oversized attires, j-rock, night sky, laughters, slice of life, teenage, playfulness, photo booths, anime, shoujo manga

taglist ; @solarwoniii @shiningstar-byulxx @wtfhyuck @ichiibunztwt @enhawhoreist

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summer-blues-stuff · 8 months

Text

A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately.

(P.s- I’m Indian and live in India and have been to Mumbai multiple times so shhh- )

(P.s.s- all i know about the spider verse comes from the movies so I’ll be focusing more on the Indian aspect. )

So in honour of atsv coming on Netflix-

FOOD- Pavitr live in Mumbai (mumbattan) so he probability of him eating “butter chicken or naan” (traditionally north Indian dishes) on a daily basis is almost nonexistent. (This is not to say he won’t have them occasionally but much of what people think is indian food comes from stereotypical North Indian food, pavitr lives in South Indian)

Popular food of Mumbai includes- vada pav(street food), panipuri(another street food), pav bhaji (not a street food), bhelpuri and sevpuri( you guessed it a street food) and for more every-day food- we have dal-roti or dal-chawal etc

(Edit: I forgot to mention this but, a lot of people are vegetarian either by choice or by religion and don’t eat meat (eating beef is HEAVILY and i mean heavily frowned upon.)

SCHOOL- In india we don’t have middle school or high school, we have grades.

We also have public and private schools (and unlike the USA, private school is not for the uber rich, middle-class families typically send their kids to private school and government(or public) schools are basically free or really cheap). Thus, Pavitr probably studies at a private school.

Keeping that in mind, Students from grade 1-12 study in one building and students actually sit in the same class while the teachers move from class to class. There is also something called school boards but for all our sakes, he studies in a school that follows CBSE guidelines. Now according to google, he’s around 15-16 so he’s in 10th or 11th depending on the school he goes to.

We have these really important exams called the “board exams” ( we just call them ‘boards’) And they are given twice by the students once in the 10th grade and once in the 12th grade and these are like really really important, kinda think of them as psats or sats(lmk if anyone wants to know more about boards) and if he’s in 10th he’ll be giving the boards in May.

After which he’ll pick a stream (medical, non-medical, commerce or failure) that he’s gonna study in 11th. There is a lot of emphasis on studies in India ( if you get good marks in 10th it’s considered that you’re good or ‘set’ for life but thats kinda bs) and it’s really competitive, students often go to tuition (think of them as an after-school school) for hours after school. Maths and science tuitions are the most common.

Uniforms (a half-sleeve shirt with a tie and pants or knee length shorts for guys) are also mandatory and are strictly regulated along with hair and nails. (Two braid or plaits for girls with below the shoulder hair and typically short hair for guys that have to be oiled) so im assuming that he gets called out a lotttttt about his hair, and teachers are constantly on his ass about cutting it which I think is funny af. The school timings are typically from 8-3 and tuitions are typically from 4-7.

It would also be super-cute if his aunt massaged his hair with oil (it’s considered an act of service and something people do to show their love)

10th grade especially is really really stressful in india and if home-boy cries himself to sleep every night I wouldn’t be surprised. So make him supppeeerrrr strrreeeessssed.

Name- Pavitr “Prabhakar” is a Hindu( a religion of sorts) name.

It’s derived from the Sanskrit word “prabhākara” which means “light maker” (from prabhā 'light' + -kara 'causing'), an epithet of the sun. So to those saying he’s a sunshine boy, his surname means light maker (do with that what you will).

Now, for his first name “Pavitr” however there is no exact meaning as, the name is most probably derived from Pavit ; maybe Pavitra(a typical girl’s name) if you’re pushing it. The meaning of Pavit is Love or A lovely and pious individual.

Edit: apparently pavitr does have it’s own meaning and it means pure

So his name roughly translates to lovely (edit: pure) sunshine boy.

Transport- Now i know that he’s spider-man but when he’s not, the most common way to travel in Mumbai is by an automobile (also called auto or auto-riksha).

One of these things ^^ and these ‘go by the meter’ (you basically pay for the distance you have covered and a meter calculates this.) these things are everywhere. You call for one of these by raising your hand and an auto stops in front of you and you ask if they will take you to the place you wanna go to (“bhaiya, _____ lekar chalo ge?”)

There can only be 3 people max on one auto (not including children) as per local government policies.

Another common way to travel is by the subway or local trains. ( and contrary to popular beliefs they are not filled to the brim with people). Cars are not that common as there is a lot of traffic. Like a lot.

Language- Most indians speak at least 2-3 languages- English, Hindi and a local language or two. Since they’re in Mumbai Pavitr probably speaks Marathi. Some people also know Sanskrit (but that’s not that common nowadays).

(Edit: People typically don’t speak in just one language, they typically use a mix of atleast two or three languages which change according to the region they are in. For example- English and hindi is the most common but some may mix in their regional language or dialect)

Also spider in hindi is makri (makdhi?) so i think it would be super funny if people called him makri (makdhi?) man.

People in India also curse a lot (not in English though) (though not in front of parents obviously) and the more people get angry the stronger accent the becomes.

Housing- housing in Mumbai is super expensive, and most people live in flats or apartments rather than houses, Mumbai is considered to be one of the most expensive places to own a home in the world just because of the sheer number of people there.

All flats in mumbai have air- conditioning units in them because it. is. so. humid and winter lasts for a month or two in comparison.

Culture- Mumbai is kind of regarded as one of the culture hubs of India, a lot of up and coming artists along with famous superstars live in Mumbai. There are a lot of exhibitions, shows and whatnot happening all the time.

Mumbai is also more progressive then the rest of India and pride parades do happen here but there is still a lot of stigma around it

(Edit: PDA in public is almost taboo, doesn’t matter who anyone is—kissing in public might actually land you in jail)

Teens typically wear jeans, shorts and graphic tees rather than kurtas or salwar-kamez (traditional clothing) .

Traditional clothing is typically worn on festivals such as holi( the festival of colour( some people wear white suits and kurtas)) or Mumbai’s most celebrated festival- “Ganesh Chaturti” (which is a religious festival religious festival to honour the Lord Ganesha.

Sports- cricket is the most watched sport in India a lot of kids play it on the streets or in parks and gardens, and its an India vs Pakistan match is an event in which everyone in the family (some even invite friends over) sit together and yell at the tv.

Mumbai is a city in which time stops for no one, and people are super busy. This doesn’t mean that people there are rude in fact they are some of kindest and helpful ppl you’ll ever meet(not including the obligatory rude af asshole that are in every community) especially in a city that never stops.

India is also not a country that lives in rags we used to be called sone ki chidiya (or bird made of gold) before the British Invasion so please for the love of god don’t depict everyone living in slums and poverty. The national currency is rupees and again i cannot stress this enough even though there is poverty in india, that doesn’t mean there isn’t prosperity. India is a developing country so keep that in mind while you write.

Religion and caste - This is a very touchy and sensitive subject in India and you should probably research a lot or stay clear of it in general ( especially the caste system its messed up and just stay clear of it) but Gayatri’s father is Sikh or at least punjabi so I’m assuming she is too. ( if she’s from Punjab or its surrounding area, then she probably speaks punjabi or her father most probably does).

(Edit: there are a lot of different religions in india —almost too many to count— and every single one has their own gods, prayers and rituals so please please please research before you write)

But something all Indian (boys) are taught to do is to touch their elders feet to show/ask for respect (and “ashirwad” I don’t know what this translate too directly in English but think of it as blessings)

Anyways here is a not very brief overview on mumbai and pavitr , let me know if you have any questions or if something isn’t really clear, English isn’t my first language so I apologise for the errors.

Please feel free to ask me anything ill do my best to answer back. : D

if you actually find this long ass post helpful and write a fic or something please tag me i would love to read it.

#atsv pavitr #no one asked for this #but here you go #India #i love him so much #spiderverse pavitr #spiderverse #pavitr prabhakar #culture #mumbai #mumbattan

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glorious-spoon · 8 months

Note

Thinking about the prompt "no, you’ll get an infection." since I just saw a gifset of our beloved firemen ripping open packages with their teeth. 😄

thank you! have a bit of established-relationship dorks on a very serious rescue mission.

"Buck," Eddie says, in the deeply patient tone that means he's refraining from adding, what the fuck is wrong with you. Buck's found that most people have a version of that tone, at least around him. Eddie doesn't employ his all that often; most of the time, Eddie is on board with pretty much anything Buck suggests. Digging around in storm drains for a missing stuffed animal is the limit, apparently.

"I've almost got it," Buck says, twisting slightly to wedge his shoulder against the grate. His fingers just brush the soggy synthetic fur of the small purple stuffed rabbit a few feet down.

"Isn't this how that kid lost his arm in that movie?"

He twists back to stare up at Eddie, who is backlit by the midday sun with the carnival spread out behind him. His hands are on his hips and his expression is half-amused, half-exasperated. "What?"

"Pennywise? Evil clown monster that lives in the sewers and eats children? It's based on a Stephen King novel."

"I repeat," Buck says. "What?"

"Right, I forgot that you don't watch anything other than nature documentaries and whatever Christopher adds to your Netflix queue."

"Bold words for a guy who's memorized every single telenovela from the past twenty years."

Eddie scoffs. "Come on. Who knows what's down there, you're not even wearing gloves, you're going to slice your hand open on some grimy piece of metal and get an infection."

"I'm being careful." Buck turns his head to squint down into the storm drain. It's too dark to see much of anything other than the faintly oily glimmer of water. There are cigarette butts and greasy fast food wrappers floating in it, and it doesn't smell great, but he's definitely dealt with grosser over the course of his career. Besides. He's so close. If he just stretches—

His fingers brush the rabbit's ear again. It topples over into the grimy water with a splash, and Buck swears under his breath. The toy is now half-submerged and several inches out of reach no matter how much he stretches.

"Buck," Eddie says again, softer. "Come on. It's just a stuffed animal."

"That Christopher won."

A sigh. "He's thirteen. I don't think this is going to break his heart, sweetheart."

Buck knows that this is probably objectively true. Chris was gleefully triumphant about winning at balloon darts even after Eddie grumbled about rigged games, but the stuffed rabbit itself seemed like an afterthought. He shoved it into Buck's hands with a quick grin before going off with his friends twenty minutes ago, and Buck is—stupid, probably, for the fact that this is sort of breaking his heart.

He hasn't thought about that giant stuffed bear that they won at the pier, the one that must have washed out to sea along with half of the Los Angeles coastline, in years. He doesn't even know if Christopher remembers it. He was little. And it wasn't exactly the most memorable part of the day. The little stuffed rabbit, which fits in the palm of Buck's hand—and incidentally, between the holes of a storm drain grate—makes a much more convenient souvenir. And it felt kind of—nice, having a sort of redo on that, even if Chris doesn't remember.

But Eddie's right. Short of trying to pry up the grate cover—which he could absolutely do, if he had a halligan handy—there's no way he's going to reach it. He sighs, resting his forehead on the metal frame, then wriggles his arm out of the grate and sits back on his heels, defeated. "Okay, fine. You win."

There's no response. When he turns around, Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Feeling more than a little put-out, Buck straightens up and looks around. It's not that crowded here, but there are enough passers-by that Buck's been getting a few strange looks, which he's been ignoring. The two streets to his left are closed-off for the carnival; to his right is a black-and-white parked across the median with a bored-looking beat cop directing traffic, and a couple of sanitation workers in hi-vis vests. Eddie is talking to one of them, but he glances back like he can tell Buck is watching him.

Buck spreads his hands in question, and Eddie holds up a finger, turning back toward the guy he was just talking to. Buck slumps, then sits down on the curb, staring forlornly at the storm drain.

A moment later, footsteps approach.

"Come on, stop pouting, scoot over," Eddie says as his shadow falls across Buck.

"I'm not pouting," Buck grumbles, but he scoots over.

"Sure you're not," Eddie says agreeably, sitting down next to him. "Here. You think this'll work?"

Buck blinks at him, then looks down at the trash picker Eddie is holding out to him, which has LA - DPW scrawled down one side in Sharpie. "Did you…"

"I mean, I had to give them a whole sob story, so you might as well try it," Eddie says, wrapping his hand around Buck's knee and jostling him gently. Buck takes the picker, then laughs, dropping his forehead to Eddie's shoulder.

"Sob story, huh?"

"Just saying. Probably more sanitary than trying to stick your bare hand down a storm drain."

"I love you," Buck tells him, and he feels Eddie's shoulder shake slightly with laughter before he straightens up.

"Love you too," he says. "Now come on, let's get started on this rescue operation. Though I think our patient is gonna need a thorough hose-down before we can transport him."

Buck snickers into Eddie's shirt. His eyes aren't wet, because that would be dumb. He rubs his cheek against the warm cotton anyway before lifting his head. "You're such a dork."

Eddie grins at him, ruffled and lovely in the afternoon sunlight. "Just trying to follow proper triage protocol here."

"Dork," Buck repeats, but he leans in to steal a brief kiss before they get the rescue operation underway.

#911 #buddie #buddie fic #eddie diaz #evan buckley #prompt fic #my fic

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maliland · 7 months

Text

CORNELIA STREET

"i'm so terrified of if you ever walk away, i'd never walk cornelia street again."

barbie(s): e-42 miles morales & black fem reader

includes: angst

synopsis: following your breakup, you and miles meet up one last time to finish packing up the apartment you formerly shared.

wc: 3559

divider credz: @/bunnysrph a/n: i'm happy y'all liked my last fic!!! this fic is a one n done, so no second part. idek what fluff is 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ they’re sayin angst is good for the soul. i proof read this time, but i can't promise that there aren't any mistakes. enjoy! <3

teary-eyed, you sealed off the last box. it felt like that alone solidified everything, and the harsh reality would soon settle in: after today, you would never see miles morales again.

the bedroom you were in was dimly lit by the single lamp you had plugged in earlier because the clouds were a reflection of your mood, gloomy and dark. you felt a bead of deep sorrow roll down the right side of your face and hastily swiped it away. you sniffled, and you hated how the sound bounced off the walls that were now covered in nothing but the paint, as if they were taunting you.

you glanced around the relatively dark and empty room. though the space was now vacant, those four walls held the sacred exchanges and cherished memories that you and miles shared within them. you’d rather forget every single one, good or bad.

you wanted to forget all of the netflix shows you and miles binged in bed, or the mario kart you’d somehow always beat him at. you wanted to forget the late nights that you spent tending to his wounds, or consoling him when he was missing his father more than usual. you wanted to wipe your mind clean of each and every thought that involved your ex-boyfriend and lock them in a box. every one of your thoughts was miles. your head would forever be silent, but you were okay with that. you craved peace of mind more than anything else.

you stared at the box for a moment before you slid your fingers into the makeshift handles that were cut out on either side and stood up. you tried to make your face look as neutral as possible as you made your way to the living room. while you sauntered down the hallway with heavy footsteps, the wood beneath your feet squealed and creaked. you found yourself expecting to be met with the familiar picture frames of you and miles that usually hung from the wall, but you weren’t.

you mentally beat yourself up for even hoping for such a thing. it’s been two months since you two broke up. you should be focused on finishing up the move anyway, not reminiscing over what would never be.

in the living room, miles was taping up all of the bigger boxes. some were his, while others were yours. he insisted on doing most, if not all of the heavy lifting. you were in no mood to argue about it, so you just let him. you walked past miles without saying anything, setting the last one of your boxes from the bedroom by the front door. you then made your way to the kitchen where your water bottle was sitting on the counter next to a box of pizza that you hadn’t seen before.

“i didn’t know you ordered food,” you said, opening the box and waiting for miles to respond before you took a piece, just in case he didn’t want you to. the pizza appeared to be untouched. you took a few sips from your water bottle and pursed your lips, swallowing hard. every interaction with miles was an awkward one.

“yeah,” he stood up and turned to face you. “it got here, like, five minutes ago. you can take some if you’re hungry.”

you capped your water bottle. “i think i’ll just take some home.”

“that’s fine,” he retorted flatly. he almost immediately went back to taping up boxes.

you placed your water bottle back down on the counter and tapped your index fingers against the surface of the counter rhythmically before clearing your throat. you only declined eating right then because you knew water was the only thing you could keep down, and even that was threatening to make an escape.

“thanks, by the way.”

“it’s nothing,” miles was silent for a few beats. you watched him carefully, silently yearning for the boy you missed tremendously. he cut off a long strip of tape from the roll and pressed it against one of the boxes. “aight, let’s take all of these to the u-haul trucks. i’ll put your heavier boxes inside for you. we can just put the smaller boxes in our cars.”

you nodded and joined miles in the living room once again. over a span of forty minutes, you moved boxes from the living room to the u-haul truck. all you could think about while you did was how just three years ago, you and miles were moving boxes into the apartment. it happened to work out because your universities aren’t far from each other. you remember being so excited that you could barely even focus on moving any of the boxes. you were so convinced that miles was the one, and that the cozy apartment that you’d made yours to share was one of the many estates that you’d share in the future. push came to shove and your dream was unfortunately cut short. you’d have to find something else to fantasize about.

“you need any help moving furniture into your new place?”

“oh, no,” you smiled awkwardly. “i already have a few of my friends helping me out, so i’ll be good. thank you, though.”

miles hummed in acknowledgment and went back inside. for a moment, you stared at the front door and watched it close. you blinked a few times then shook your head, redirecting your focus back to putting the last few boxes in your car. you strolled over to your trunk and put the box down on the curb beside your tire and all of the other boxes so you could open it.

loading the remainder of the smaller boxes took maybe six minutes. by the time you closed the trunk, miles was back outside, loading his own boxes into his own car. you fought the urge to watch him as he did. you knew that’d be ridiculous.

you reminded yourself that you were the one who initiated the breakup, not miles.

when you found out about miles being the prowler, you were both still in high school. he made it seem like a temporary job. you sympathized with him because you knew him and his mama needed money, but you were always on the edge regardless. you would lie awake at night, anxiously waiting by your phone for that text message that confirmed your boyfriend’s safety. some nights you only had to stay up until ten, while others robbed you of sleep completely.

miles would often miss class, dinners with you and rio, or your dates due to prowler business. you were always covering for him when it came to his mom asking if you knew where he was, and you hated having to lie to her. miles had explained to you that what he does wasn’t something he could just quit like a normal job, because his job wasn't normal. despite your iffy feelings about it, you brushed it off and kept it pushing.

the hope and the lie that this wouldn’t go on forever was the only thing keeping you going.

soon enough, college finally rolled around and you two rented your first apartment on cornelia street. being with him each and every day made you realize something; you were starting to understand that miles didn’t have any intention to retire the mask.

things started to get serious. miles would not only come home late, but injured. he’d climb through the window to your shared bedroom with cuts, grazes, and sometimes deep stab wounds. you couldn’t keep staying up until the early hours of the morning playing nurse after wasting away time wondering if miles was going to come home or not.

the night he returned to you after not coming back for two whole days was the same night you called it quits. you had been getting less and less of what you needed, and instead, growing increasingly stressed. as much as you loved miles, you didn’t want to live in fear for the rest of your life. you sat him down and explained that as you tended to his severe wounds. maybe you should’ve waited, but you were beyond angry.

though you were firm in your decision, that didn’t make it hurt any less. it almost hurt more because you were the one that did it. there was nobody else to blame because you were the one who had given up, at least that’s how you saw it.

“hey,” miles approached you. “i’m gonna head out now. you got everything?”

“yeah,” you replied, looking back at your car behind you, then up at the sky. “i’m actually about to leave too.”

“cool, cool,” he nodded. “i’ll see you around.”

“see you,” you waved gently as miles turned away. after one left to right, you put your hand down.

part of you expected more to come out of your last goodbye when in reality, there was nothing more to expect.

you didn’t stick around to torture yourself by watching miles leave. instead, you wound up in the living room of the apartment again. the emptiness of the room was daunting. you couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that starting tomorrow, the apartment wasn’t yours and miles’ anymore. someone else’s name would soon be on that lease. if they were anything like you and miles were, there’d be two more names on the lease. two more sets of memories to be made in every single room.

maybe they’ll bake snickerdoodles at three in the morning like you and miles did, or go on christmas movie marathons when halloween hadn't even passed yet. maybe they'd match halloween costumes when it finally arrived. maybe they'd go to carnivals and hang the strip of pictures from the photo booth on the wall.

hopefully they wouldn't end up like you two.

❤︎₊ ⊹

about an hour later, you finally found it in yourself to leave. your u-haul truck was probably at your new place by now. your friends were coming over to help you unpack, and you still had to turn in your key to the landlord. on your way out, you noticed that the box of pizza from earlier was still on the counter. you went over to the kitchen and opened it to find that the pizza was still untouched. it's rare that miles ever forgets things. he had to have left it for you.

you closed the pizza box and left through the front door. for the last time, you locked it. you carried the box to your car and placed it in the passenger seat. when you closed the door, you got a sinking feeling in your stomach because you knew you'd never drive back there again. you didn't ponder on it for long before your eyes widened. you remembered you'd left a box in the guest room. you'd always been the more forgetful one, after all. you dashed back to the front door and quickly unlocked it. you hurriedly made your way to the room and sighed in relief when your eyes landed on what you were looking for. you picked up the box and groaned in annoyance when you realized it was a heavier one. complaining would only make the process longer, so you sucked it up and brought the box outside to your car.

suddenly, you felt something wet on your face and your eyebrows knitted together. you glanced up at the sky, now noticing that the clouds appeared darker, and the smell of rain was more prevalent than it was before.

“it’s not supposed to rain until six,” you thought, wiping the tiny drop of rain on your face with your sleeve.

by time time you'd managed to fit your box in the trunk with all of the others, the rain was pouring at an increasingly fast pace, drenching your phone, your outfit, and more importantly, your freshly braided hair. you pursed your lips and slowly closed your eyes. a desperate attempt to search for the patience to keep it together was made, but you broke down, weeping in agony instead. you’d suffocated your desolation deep in your being for far too long, and it wanted out. you had only kept it in because you didn’t think you needed to cry over miles as much as your body wanted you to. you figured that since your breakup was final and beneficial for the both of you, there was no reason to dwell on it. you preferred to let your sanity dwindle. even when sadness engulfed you the most, you refused to provide it with an outlet. the lumps in your throat that you had always swallowed felt like rocks, and your eyes had grown tired of you dismissing your tears back into your eye sockets with rapid blinking movements.

you wanted nothing to do with the breakup in general. you really despised the look your loved ones gave you every time you had to break the news of your failed relationship to them. most people would appreciate the pity and constant check-ins, but you deplored them. you only wanted to feel normal again. it was already bad enough that you couldn't feel whole without miles. you didn’t need people to remind you of that.

you stood there on the curb stiffly, letting the drops of rain mask your tears as they fell. you felt lost right outside of what used to be your home. if your friends weren’t back at your new place awaiting your arrival, you probably would’ve stayed in that same spot for a little while longer. collecting yourself would take a minute, though.

you wiped your eyes with the sleeve of your hoodie, your mascara staining the fabric black as a result. you closed your eyes and breathed out, preparing to bury your feelings deep once again and walk to your car until you noticed there wasn’t rain soaking into your scalp or running down your face anymore. looking down at your feet, you could still see raindrops bouncing off of the ground. when you raised your head, you were greeted with a black umbrella towering over you. you reluctantly turned around to see none other than miles standing there before you, his grip firm on the handle of the umbrella.

even if miles didn't show it in his expression, you knew you looked a mess. you didn't need a mirror to know that your edges had lifted. your neat, spiraled swoops were now untamed strands that were just barely sticking to your head. the rainwater weighing the flyaways down was the closest thing you were getting to a hold. that wasn't the only part of your appearance that was in disarray. due to the profuse tears you'd just been crying, there were streams of mascara trailing down either side of your cheeks. you wiped them away and sniffled. to top it all off, your sweatshirt and your favorite pleated jean skirt were both doused in water. you really didn’t want miles to see how messed up you truly were over his absence. you began to fidget with the bracelet around your wrist, opting to feign your normal expression like everything was okay. it's not like miles could tell you were crying anyway. the rain may have fucked you over before, but it was doing you a service now.

“did you leave your pizza?” you asked. "it's in my car."

“i forgot my jacket inside of the apartment,” miles held it up in his other arm.

“oh,” you nodded, avoiding eye contact at all costs. it’s what you did every time you spoke now. you entered each room multiple times before you left. you hadn't seen his jacket anywhere. “well, i was actually just about to go.”

“you were standing idly in the rain,” miles retorted. his eyebrows lowered in a mix of both worry and confusion.

“well, i—“

“you hate getting your hair wet, especially when you just got it done,” he interrupted you. “you also said you were about to leave back when i was leaving.”

your mouth hung open for about three seconds before you closed it. you had completely forgotten what you were going to say before miles cut you off. you didn’t even expect him to notice that you’d gotten your hair done. miles always had been attentive to you, but you expected him to pay little to no attention to you now.

“i did say that,” you confirmed, rubbing your thumbs against each other as a release for your nervousness. “but obviously i haven’t left.”

“why’s that?” miles angled his head. he was peering into your face like he was determined to uncover an answer without you having to utter a word. it made you nervous. “you need help with something else?”

“no, miles,” you exhaled, the never-ending interrogation making you restless. you somewhat felt like you were in high school again. for a split second, you were thrown back to the days when you first started crushing on miles. “i lived here for a while. i’m just gonna miss this place, that’s all.”

miles noticed that you were dodging his eyes. he clocked it from the start, actually. the very start. you haven’t looked him in the eyes since the night you ended things. he pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, sighing deeply before opening them again.

“[name], i owe you an apology,” he says lowly. “i know you hate what i do. i knew i wasn’t gonna stop any time soon and i shouldn’t have made it seem like i was going to, but you have to understand, mama, i’m in too deep. i don’t know if i can ever lead a normal life now.”

you continued to look down, your gaze fixed on the rain droplets that were splashing on the concrete instead. your mind doesn’t offer you any commentary, nor does it offer you solace. you’ve imagined this conversation a million times in your head. you’ve had this conversation a million times out loud. it ends the same way each time: with tears and a heavy heart, as well as the certitude that the same subject of whether or not miles would come home and decide he's had enough of making you worry, would be revisited in a curt amount of time.

you thought this unbearable cycle would end when your relationship with miles did, but parting ways never did free you from the harrowing thoughts that occupied your feeble mind.

this had to be the last variation of that same dreadful conversation.

“it’s better this way. i don’t ever want to put you in danger. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you because of me—if you got hurt...” miles' voice trailed off.

you understood everything he was telling you. you always had. it wasn’t a difficult concept to grasp. again, it didn’t make the circumstances maim your heart any less.

and miles would never truly get it.

“you already hurt me, miles,” you finally look the boy in the eyes without even meaning to. “you’re gonna get yourself killed. you’re skilled, but you’re also lucky. really lucky. i don’t want your luck to run out. i hope you find a way to save yourself... to make a life for yourself without having to get your hands bloody.”

"me too," he replied after a couple of beats.

still, he never would.

miles pushed the hand that had a grip on the handle of the umbrella forward, urging you to take it. your fingers brushed against each other as you reluctantly retrieved the handle from him.

you wondered if there was something you should say…

do you ask to keep in contact? do you ask if you can still call him? do you ask if you can still visit? do you ask if you can still join him and his mama for dinner? do you tell him you still love him? do you ask for one more hug? do you ask for one more kiss?

do you ask if he’ll always love you?

miles’ hand dropped by his side, soon finding their way into the pockets of his basketball shorts. "take care of yourself, [name]."

that was it.

you were unable to think of something fast enough, so you stood paralyzed and watched miles jog back to his car. you didn’t feel even an ounce of shame as you watched your first love leave for the last time, your plans and your pre-determined future departing along with him.

you knew that if it wasn’t for luck, you would never see the boy you loved so intensely ever again. if you ever did, you’d have to cope with the fact that his love for you would’ve more than likely faded to nothing but a memory stored deep in his mind, much like the thoughts of him that you longed to lock away. you really hated that things had to end the way they did, but no matter how much you loathed the veracity, miles would always be the prowler. there wasn’t any force or any drive—anything or anyone in that world that could make him stop.

not even you.

one last time, you turned to face the place that served you well. it wasn’t you and miles’ apartment on cornelia street anymore, but it would forever hold the love you shared inside of it. at the end of the day, you knew that the walls that resided inside the building had seen generations of love in a multitude of forms.

in regards to love, you knew that they would never cease to remember you and miles morales.

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bloomflwrss · 2 months

Text

a/n: something new i came up with 🤷 LONGGGG!!!

Lake Breeding

TW: smut, 18+, NO MINORS, breeding, fucking, oral sex, "normal" sex

I'm slouched in the backseat of my parents' car, staring out the window with a scowl etched on my face. We're on our way to Timothée Chalamet's house, of all places. My parents are apparently friends with his family, and they think it's just delightful to spend time together. But me? I can't stand Timothée. He's pretentious, and his constant fawning fans make me want to scream. I'd much rather be at home, curled up with a good book or binge-watching something on Netflix. Instead, here I am, trapped in this car, counting down the minutes until I can escape this forced social gathering. I bury myself in my phone, trying to drown out the annoyance brewing inside me.

"Y/n, did you bring your Louis Vuitton bag?" my mom chirps from the front seat, her voice dripping with a mix of excitement and pride. I roll my eyes in response, a surge of frustration coursing through me. Of course, I brought the darn bag. It's practically a requirement for these gatherings, a symbol of our family's wealth that they love to flaunt. But honestly, I can't stand it. I hate how my family always seems to compete with Timothée's family, trying to outdo each other in displays of affluence. It's like a never-ending game of one-upmanship, and I'm so over it. With a reluctant nod, I confirm that yes, I brought the stupid bag, silently wishing we could just be normal for once.

As we turn onto Cherry Road, the infamous street of the rich and elite, I feel a sense of unease wash over me. It's like entering a different world, one where opulence and extravagance reign supreme. The chauffeur opens my door, and I step out, the sound of my heels clicking against the pavement echoing in the air.

And then I see him – Timothée, standing there in all his arrogant glory. It's been a while since I last laid eyes on him, and I can't help but notice how the hot summer sun seems to make everything even more intense, including the way my heart races at the sight of him.

I take a moment to size him up, my eyes running up and down his figure before I realize he's been staring back at me with a flirtatious twinkle in his eye. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I quickly avert my gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny.

As our hands meet in a polite shake, I feel a jolt of electricity shoot through my body. His touch is warm and gentle, and as he clasps my hand, his thumb subtly brushes against mine. It's a simple gesture, yet it sends a rush of sensation coursing through me.

I've always had a strange fascination with his thumb – the way it moves, the way it feels against my skin. Call it odd, but I've always found it strangely attractive. And in this moment, as his thumb grazes mine, I can't help but feel a flutter of excitement deep within me. It's as if a dormant spark has been ignited, awakening something inside me that I never knew existed.

As we walk inside, I lag behind a bit, and I notice Timothée waiting for me with a playful grin. "Still hate me?" he quips, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I shoot him a smirk in response, unable to resist the banter.

He chuckles and takes a step closer, his hand lightly brushing against my thigh. It's a subtle touch, but it sends a shockwave of sensation through me, causing a sudden ache to flare between my thighs. My breath catches in my throat as I try to compose myself, the unexpected intensity of the moment leaving me

As we sit down for food, I find myself seated across from Timothée. Despite my best efforts to maintain a sense of distance, our feet seem to have a mind of their own, constantly finding ways to brush against each other under the table. It's a subtle, almost unconscious movement, but each touch sends a surge of heat through me.

As we eat, the ache between my thighs becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. I shift uncomfortably in my seat, trying to discreetly squeeze my sticky thighs together in the hopes of alleviating the sensation. There’s no way I could be getting aroused because of Timothée, I tell myself firmly, but the persistent ache refuses to subside, leaving me feeling flustered and frustrated.

As Timothée's mother suggests heading out to their backyard lake for a swim, I exchange a hesitant glance with Timothée. Despite my reservations, I carefully stand up, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in my stomach.

Once outside, I find myself scanning the area, wondering where Timothée has disappeared to. When he finally joins us, I can't help but ask where he's been. As he nonchalantly removes his t-shirt, revealing his sculpted physique, and unzips his pants, my jaw practically hits the floor.

Before I can even process what's happening, he drops a bombshell. He claims to have seen my fluid on the chair and boldly declares that he licked it all off. Shock courses through me, my cheeks flushing crimson as I stare at him in disbelief.

But instead of apologizing or showing any sign of remorse, he smirks and confidently asserts, "I know how horny you are for me, Y/n." His words hang in the air, leaving me speechless and utterly mortified.

As Timothée pulls me behind a towering tree, I can't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through me. It's exhilarating, knowing that our parents are oblivious to our whereabouts, giving us the perfect opportunity for privacy.

But before I can even process what's happening, he pushes me down to my knees, the rough ground scraping against my skin. My eyes widen in surprise as I gaze up at him, only to be met with the sight of his massive hardness standing proudly before me.

I swallow hard, feeling a mixture of anticipation and nervousness wash over me. The air crackles with tension as I realize what he's about to do, and a flurry of conflicting emotions swirl within me. But despite my uncertainty, there's a part of me that can't deny the undeniable attraction I feel towards him, a primal desire that threatens to consume me.

"What are you doing?!" I gasp, my voice trembling with a mix of confusion and disbelief as Timothée begins to remove his underwear. But before I can protest any further, he cuts me off with a command that sends shivers down my spine.

"Suck that cock like a slut," he says, his voice dripping with authority and desire. I gulp audibly, still frozen in shock as his cock springs free from his underwear, a glistening pearl of pre-cum dangling from the tip, teasingly dropping onto the grass below.

My mind races as I struggle to comprehend the situation unfolding before me, but despite my reservations, there's a part of me that can't deny the overwhelming urge to comply with his demand.

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, I slowly part my lips, allowing Timothée to guide his throbbing cock into my mouth. The sensation is overwhelming as he begins to mouthfuck me, each movement deliberate and calculated, sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

At first, his pace is slow and steady, allowing me to adjust to the sensation of having him filling my mouth. But as the intensity builds, he picks up speed, thrusting deeper and harder with each movement. I can feel him pushing the limits, going as fast and as deep as he possibly can, until I can feel the head of his cock brushing against the back of my throat.

I gag involuntarily at the sudden intrusion, my eyes watering as I struggle to accommodate his size. But as the initial shock wears off, I find myself instinctively sucking and licking, eager to please him and fulfill his desires. Despite the discomfort, there's a raw, primal energy between us that drives me to continue, lost in the intoxicating sensation of him filling me completely.

As Timothée begins thrusting into me, the intensity of his movements sends shockwaves of pleasure and pain coursing through my body. Tears escape from the corners of my eyes, a mixture of arousal and discomfort overwhelming my senses.

With each powerful thrust, he drives deeper into my throat, pushing me to my limits. I can feel his growls of pleasure reverberating through my body, heightening the sensation of being utterly consumed by him.

And then, without warning, he releases with a primal grunt, filling my throat with his hot, sticky cum. I gag slightly as his warmth floods my mouth, but I swallow instinctively, eagerly taking him all in as he empties himself completely.

As he pulls back, spent and satisfied, I can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction wash over me, knowing that I've fulfilled his desires completely. Despite the tears and the discomfort, there's a primal satisfaction in knowing that I've pleased him beyond measure.

Timothée leads me to a secluded spot in the lake, away from prying eyes. With a confident smirk, he pushes my bikini underwear to the side, exposing my throbbing clit. His touch is electric as he begins to rub my sensitive nub with his thumb, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through me.

With a devilish grin, he plunges his middle finger into my dripping pussy, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from my lips. I ride his finger eagerly, my body arching against his touch as I feel myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "Ride my finger, baby. Show me how much you want it.“

His dirty talk sends me over the edge, my body trembling with the force of my orgasm as I come completely undone in his arms. Waves of pleasure wash over me, leaving me breathless and utterly spent in the wake of our passion.

As Timothée plunges his cock into me, a sharp gasp escapes my lips, mixing with the sounds of the splashing water around us. The sensation is overwhelming as he begins to thrust into me, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body.

The water churns around us as our bodies move in sync, the intensity of our passion matching the rhythm of our thrusts. With each movement, we exchange dirty talk, fueling the fire burning between us.

“You like that, baby?” he groans, his voice husky with desire. “You’re mine, all mine.”

I respond in kind, my own words dripping with longing and desire as I throw my head back in ecstasy.

“I want you to breed me,” I moan, unable to hold back my own primal urges.

He grins wickedly, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he senses my impending release.

“I’m gonna fill your pretty cunt with my load any second now,” he growls, his words sending shivers of anticipation down my spine.

As he reaches the brink of his own climax, I feel my pussy start to clamp around him, signaling my own impending release. With one final thrust, he pinches my clit, sending me over the edge in a wave of ecstasy.

I scream in pleasure as I come not once, but twice, my body shaking with the force of my orgasm. And as Timothée finally releases his hot load deep inside me, I can’t help but feel utterly spent and completely satisfied in the wake of our passion.

#timothee smut #timothee chalamet #timothee x reader #fanfiction #fanfic smut #smut

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raatart · 2 months

Text

a complete boycott list in alphabetical order

a complete list of companies / brands / franchises to boycott in support of palestine that i have been working on putting together for a while now.

remember to support your local businesses

stand with palestine against genocide

(Food & Beverages)

Activia

Acqua Panna

Akmina

Absolute Vodka

Algida

A&W

Aquafina

Alpro

Actimel

Burger King

Baskin Robbins

Ben & Jerry's

Bugles

Betty Crocker

Badoit

Becel

Coca Cola

Costa Coffee

Cadbury

Cheerios

Cheetos

Campbells

Calve

Cappy

Chiquita

Dominos

Dasani

Dunkin' Donuts

Doritos

Dr Pepper

Danone

Dolcela

Damla

Dogadan

Evian

Eden

Fanta

Frito-lay

Fruit by the Foot Roll Ups

Falim

Fresca

Gatorade

Greggs

Hardees

Haagen Dazs

Heinz Ketchup

Hershey's

Hard Rock Cafe

Heinz

Innocent

Israeli Fruits & Vegetables

Jacob's

Jaffa

KitKat

KFC

Kbueno

Kraft Mac & Cheese

Kellogg's

Kraft

Lipton

Lays

McDonald's

Mars

Marks & Spencers

Maggi

Marila

Monster

Mountain Dew

Mehadrin

Minute Maid

Milk Bar

M&M's

Magnum Ice Cream

Milka Chocolates

Nestle

Nestle Cereals

Nescafe

Nesquik

Nespresso

Nido

Nutella

Nature Valley

Nestle Milo

Nestle Carnation

Nestle Coffee Mate

Nestle Nestum

Nimbooz

Nestea

Orea

Original Shredded Wheat

Papa John's

Pepsi

Pringles

Pizza Hut

Perrier

Pillsbury

Popeyes

Pretty a Manager

Pure Life

Powerade

Popup Bagels

Quality Street

Quaker

Redbull

Ruffles

Starbucks

Subway

Smartwater

Sweetgreen

Snickers

Sprite

Sabra

Sunkist

Strauss

Smarties

S.pellegrino

Schweppes

Sana

Sirma

Sara Lee

Toblerone

Tang

Twix

Tesco

Tropicana

Vittle

Volvic

Wall's

Walmart

Walkers

Wrigley's

7Up

(Clothing)

America Eagle

Adidas

Alo

Adina Eden Jewelry

Converse

Calvin Klein

Cat

Castro

Drew

Diesel

Good American

GAP

H&M

Kamili

Levi's

Lumberjack

Mango

Nike

Oasis

Puma

River Island

Skims

Skinny Dip

St. Mark

Style Nadia

Timberland

Victoria's Secret

Vakko

We Wore That

Wyeth

Zara

(Beauty)

Aveda

Amika

Avon

Aussie

Aveeno

Always

Aesop

Ahava

Bobbi Brown

Blistex

Bath & Body Works

Britney Spears Fragrance

Becca

Biotherm

Beauty Blender

Clinique

Covergirl

Colgate

Calgon

Camay

CeraVe

Christina Aguilera Perfumes

Clean & Clear

Crest

CND

Cacharel

Dr. Jart+

Dove

Dettol

Darphin Paris

Dark & Lovely

Essie

Elidor

Fenty Beauty

Fair & Lovely

Garnier

Gillette

Glam Glow

Honest Beauty

Haci Sakir

Herbal Essences

Head & Shoulders

Hugo Boss

Jo Malone

Johnson & Johnsom

Kerastase

Kiehl's

Kylie Cosmetics

Kylie Skin

Kotex

L'Oreal

Lacome

La Roche-Posey

Lifebuoy

Lux

Lubiderm

Maybelline

MAC

Moroccan Oil

Maui

Matrix

Max Factor

Nyx

Neutrogena

Nivea

Nature's Beauty

Niely

Olay

Origins

Orkid

Oral-B

Oax

Pepsodent

Pantene

Revlon

Rimmel

Rexona

Rhode

Summer Fridays

Schick

Smashbox

Sephora

Sensodyne

Skinceuticals

Skin Better Science

The Body Shop

Too Faced Cosmetics

The Ordinary

Tom Ford Beauty

Tampax

Takami

Urban Decay

Ulta Beauty

Vichy

Vaseline

Veet

Yes to

Yuesai

(Luxury)

Chanel

Estee Lauder

Georgio Armani

LVMH

Louis Vuitton

La Mer

Lavs

Le Labo

Mugler

Maison Margiela

Prada

Raplh Lauren

Tiffany & Co.

Tom Ford

Tommy Hilfiger

Valentino

Yves Saint Laurent

(Tech & Entertainment)

Aol

Amazon

AirBnB

Apple

BBC

Buxton

Barbie

Booking.com

CNN

Disney+

Dell

Energizer

Ford

Fiverr

Galaxy

Hyundai

Hulu

IBM

Intel

Lego

Motorola

Movenpick

Mattel

Microsoft

National Geographic

Nokia

Netflix

Oracle

Oxi

Philips

Rolls Royce

Siemens

Sodastream

Toys R Us

Volvo

Valvoline

Wix

(Other)

Axa

Ariel

Aero

Ambi Pur

Airwick

Aroma

AVC

Amway

Ace Hardware

Andrex

American Express

Bounty

Black & Decker

Bonux

Bref

Braun

Benadryl

Band-aid

Barclays

Blue Cross Blue Shield

Better Help

Caltex

Chevron

Culligan

Citi Bank

Chicco

Cravola

Clearblue

Capital One

Dash

Drynites

Dosmestos

Doona

Expedia

Finish

Febreeze

Fixodent

Fairy

Goop

Gerber

Gys

HSBC

Huggies

Hayat

Imodium

JCB

Kimberly-Clark

Kleenex

Lion

Little Swimmers

Lenor

Mr Muscle

Minidou

Monsanto

Nicorette

Omo

Pampers

Purina Felix

Payoneer

Palmolive

Protex

Pull-ups

P&G

Prima

Pril

Paramount Pictures

Rejoice

Rinso

Rogaine

Signal

Sensus

Sudafed

Tide

Unilever

Us Cellular

Vim

Vanish

Vicks

Yumus

(Places)

Disney

(People)

Ashley Tisdale

Amy Schumer

Andy Beshear

Bono

Ben Savage

Bella Thorne

Beyonce

Chris Evans

Claire Holt

Ciara

Chris Rock

Chris Pine

Demi Lovato

Dwayne Johnson

DJ Khaled

Eva Longoria

Gal Gadot

Ian Somerhalder

Jamie Lee Curtis

James Maslow

Justin Bieber

Jennifer Aniston

Jaclyn Hill

Jack Harlow

Jordan Peele

Joseph Quinn

Jack Black

Kylie Jenner

Kim Kardashian

Kris Jenner

Kerry Washington

Katie Perry

Karlie Kloss

Khloe Kardashian

Kat Graham

Kendall Jenner

Kourtney Kardashian

Lebron James

Lana Condor

Lana Del Rey

Millie Bobby Brown

Malala

Mindy Kaling

Mark Hamill

Madonna

NFL

Nina Dobrev

Natalie Portman

Nabela

Nicole Richie

Noah Schnapp

Octovia Spencer

Perez Hilton

Paul Wesley

Phoebe Tonkin

Pia Mia

P!nk

Ronaldinho

Rihanna

Sofia Richie

Shaquir O'neal

Selena Gomez

Tara Strong

Taika Waititi

Taylor Swift

Tyler Perry

Usher

Vanessa Hudgens

Viola Davis

#boycott #boycott israel #boycott mcdonalds #boycott starbucks #boycott disney #boycotting #pro palestine #fuck israel #support palestine

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