#3k notes in 24 hours

[heartfulselkie]

Of all my posts to get a crazy amount of notes in such a short time

It's Chat Noir dressed as a clown and failing succeeding to make balloon animals worms

Glad you all like the silliness

#over 3k notes in 24 hours #thats just wild to me #something about the ML fandom when it comes to clowns and worms i guess #clowns + worms = powerful combo in this fandom #selkie talking to themself

[twinksrepository]

A Valentine's Day treat. Well more like night after

Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Pairing: Dante X F!Reader

CW: Food play, P in V sex, teasing, bad puns

Word count: Roughly 3K 

A/N: It's been a few months since you started dating the silly pizza man, and fail to keep that on the down low when it's Valentine's Day and one of your co-workers pesters you about dating the man but being at work. Good thing Lady is giving Dante a hard time as well. Well maybe after your shift you can find a way to have some fun with your boyfriend. 

The third of my Valentine’s Day fics.

Quirking your nose as you scrawl out the last of your notes before handing them off for entry in the system you let out a long exhale. It’s not even ten pm and you’ve already dealt with four accidentally swallowed rings, three broken noses, and two stabbings. The stabbings were a little normal for the emergency department but the rings weren’t. 

“I don’t understand why people just can’t propose like normal people, why do they put it in food Doctor?” You snort shaking your head as one of the orderies rubs at her temple. 

“People want to be different, if they knew how often people miss the ring dropped in their champagne glass because of nerves they might try something else.” Signing your name before looking at the next person on the triage list and reading what happened. “Like this person. They tried chocolate mousse, I’ll give them a point for originality.”

“Me. Hey Doc?” Letting out a hum as you double check to make sure you don't hand anyone higher up on the priority list to check with. “How come you're here tonight and not out with that man of yours?” 

You feel your nose quirking again. “Which man would that be?” Attempting to avoid eye contact as you do know exactly who they're talking about. Your silly pizza loving man with a knack for killing the demonic, even if most people think he's just a regular handy man of sorts. 

“Funny. That broad shoulders white haired fella. Damien or something.” 

“Dante” you wince as the correction slips from your mouth with ease. 

“Him!” Grinning like the cat that ate the canary at catching you. “Come on, I've seen the two of you out around town. He's a hottie. Why aren't you out with him instead of in here dealing with the chaos of proposals gone wrong?” 

You laugh hearing how the night in the ER has been going so far it sounds about right. “He's working tonight, besides I'd rather cover this night over New Year's and the Fourth of July anytime.” Winking before you head down the hallway with your clipboard, hoping this couple is a lot calmer than the last. 

“Explain how I'm a bad boyfriend!” Dante was pissed as he swung the rebellion slicing one of the lizard like demons in half sending Lady a look of bewilderment. 

“If you were a good one I wouldn't have to explain it.” Snarking back as she unloaded a few rounds into her own quarry before shaking her head at him. “You really are terrible with women, at this rate the pretty little doctor is gonna leave you. Working on Valentine's Day.” 

“It's just a sappy day to give chocolates, if she wants to leave me over that then fine!” Slicing another demon and dodging having a set of talons driven through his back. As much as he said that the smaller voice I'm his head was screaming. No. It wasn't fine. She was his and it didn't matter what day it was he should be balls deep in her, making sure she smelt of him and sex. 

“You really are an idiot.”

“Whatever Lady. Are we finishing this job you asked for my help for or not?” He'd rather focus on a fight than the way his pants were growing tighter. Damn libido.

As you left the hospital that morning, well 3 am, you couldn’t help but swing into the nearest 24 hour store to grab a few grocery items for yourself and saw a few items that made you smirk. A package of chocolate dipped and plain strawberries, grabbing them before heading to the devil may cry office with a can of whipped cream and a terrible plan. 

Trying the door to find it unlocked and slinking inside, a good sign that Dante is home otherwise you would have had to try and dig through your bag for the spare key he’d given you. “Dante!” If the lights in the main office hadn’t of been on you wouldn’t have called out, but if it is on then it’s a good sign your handsome man is still awake. 

“Backroom Babe!” Well, that answers that, heading towards the door that hides a short hallway ending in a minuscule kitchen. The main level of the office doesn't have much besides the front area itself which takes up the bulk of the floor space, there is a second bathroom that you’re certain before you entered his life was the only one Dante used. Well used being an operative word. 

Stepping into the space and finding the white haired man holding a small glass filled with amber liquid. “That kind of night huh?” You snort laying your paper bag of goodies on the the tiny counter before dropping your overnight bag to the floor and approaching him. 

“Any night that involves Lady is one of those kind of nights.” Rolling his eyes before taking a sip of the drink and setting his eyes on you. “Didn't think I'd see you this early, thought you were working the ER tonight?” 

“I was.” Lifting your arms to drop them over his broad neck and play with some of the longer white hairs at the back of his head and leaning closer. His jacket is draped over the chair you suspect would snap if anyone sat in it so your arms are able to rest more against him instead of the leather. “My shift finished about an hour ago and I didn't have a lot of paperwork to do. How was your night?” 

Raising his drink between your bodies you watch him quirk a brow as if surprised you asked “Shit so far. Now that you're here though.” Hooking two of his fingers in one of the belt loops of your pants and tugging you a little closer to him. “It seems to be getting better.” 

Tossing the rest of his drink back before sliding the empty glass behind him and dropping his hand on your hip you get the hint and push up on your toes as he leans closer to you. Only for your senses to be flooded by the smell of rancid copper and things you'd rather not think about. Sharply pulling away from him. “You smell like ass” Waving your hand in front of your nose as you screw up your face at him.

“I got home maybe ten minutes before you walked in!” His tone is haughty as he lifts his hands exasperated by your reaction, and for a moment you're distracted by the shift of his shirt and the hint of pale skin. 

“You need a shower if you want a kiss.” Shaking your head at him and hiding that you had been distracted by his body. “Or the other treat I have for you.” You might be annoyed that his first thought was a drink before getting cleaned but his lifestyle wasn't focused on getting the grim off his body right away for the longest time. 

Hearing you mention a treat, however, has his mood shifting and a smirk on his handsome face “A treat huh? Do I get a hint?” Wiggling his eyebrows as his gaze roves over your body, making you flush in response. 

“I don't wanna ruin the surprise but let's say trying something new.” Giving him a wink as he grabs his coat and starts to walk past you. “Only clean good little boys are going to get it though.” 

Roaring with laughter as he turns on his feet facing you as he walks away. “Guess I'm outta luck. Even with a shower, I'm zero outta three on that list.” Dropping his hand to his crotch just before stepping out of sight. “Especially the little part.” 

You can't help but laugh as he slips away, waiting until you hear either the water running from the downstairs bathroom or the creek of the stairs as he heads to the upper level. It's the creaking of the stairs that you hear, grinning as you wait another moment before placing your food for tomorrow in the fridge. At least you don't have to worry about something trying to crawl out of the neglected device. This time. 

Keeping the strawberries and whipped cream with you as you headed out to the main part of the office once more, checking the main door was locked before taking the stairs. It was more for your own peace of mind than anything else, if something wanted to go after Dante a metal bolt wasn't going to stop it. 

Hearing the shower run as you reach the top of the landing you slow, pondering for a moment if you should join him or just jump into your own little surprise. You did have a quick shower before you left work because you hated the smell of the antiseptic on your skin, but the idea of rubbing your hands over his wet chest are hard to ignore. Giving your head a shake you keep walking, if you don't commit to what you have planned you'll never try it, and Dante likes surprises in the bedroom. 

Leaning across the bedspread as you hear the sound of his footsteps you grin to yourself before swallowing to try and settle your face. As the door swings open you try to get your expression sorted out so you aren’t a blushing mess, trying to aim for sultry. 

Dante has a towel thrown over his head missing your expression and one slung around his waist, except he has the size of them backward. The larger one over his head and the smaller struggling to remain tied around his waist with how thick his thighs are and your little plan to try and seduce him fails as your jaw drops a little. “Maybe it’s me who’s getting the treat instead of you. Big boy.” Tacking on the last word to get him to lift his head. 

At least your little plan worked as his composure snaps for a moment as he stares at you, his eyes following the trail of whipped cream along the lines of your stomach from your covered core up to your tits. “Babe.” A hard swallow and it’s clear as the towel around his hips flutters from something hidden underneath that he’s getting aroused. “Are those strawberries on your tits?” 

“I figured since it was too late to get you a sundae I’d try and be one instead.” Trailing an index finger along part of your stomach and scooping some of the cream up before sticking the digit in your mouth and sucking on it hard enough to hollow your cheeks. That towel around his waist stood no chance as his cock hardens and sticks up from the edge, raising the fabric as if his dick is peeking out at you. “Sorry, but it’s the best I could do on such short notice.” 

Using one of his hands to pull the towel from around his shoulders and letting it drop to the floor with a wet smack your covered core throbs. His eyes are wild and you can see his neck flexing as his jaw works. Too bad all his attempts are undone by the way his length keeps twitching as it arches from between his legs. “I don’t see any ice cream unless you’re hiding it under that pretty body of yours.” 

Striding closer before he stops. Dante is far from unobservant and the man has noticed your own gaze keeps landing between his legs. “For some reason, I don’t think you have any for me. Not with the way your eyes keep looking at this fine display.��� With a snap of his fingers, the towel is gone and you can’t help the little noise of satisfaction you let out at his naked body. He’s fit and knows it, surprising with his terrible diet, but you can’t get enough of it. 

“You’re right. I wanted some meat tonight.” Winking at him before spreading your legs, showing him the damp spot on your underwear. “I think you should come get your dessert before it gets too warm though.” Adding a small whine at the end as you want to feel his skin against yours, or his tongue. Really he can remove the fruit and cream covering your torso anyway he wants to. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t cover your pussy in cream too.” Snorting as he closes the final distance and you feel his bed dip as he joins you. 

“I might be willing to try food play but I am not having anything go in my pussy that isn’t sanitized.” 

“Sorry Doc, I gotta call you out on that one.” Running one of his large hands along your thigh before snapping your underwear with his finger. “My tongue and fingers go in there all the time.” You roll your eyes and reach a hand out to try and get him to pay more attention to your body. 

“Funny Dante. Honestly though. Do you want to lick or help me clean this up? The cream really is starting to run.” A chuckle before he moves, throwing a leg over your body and settling so he straddles your form, sliding down a little as his hands come to rest beside your body. 

“I think I can help with that problem.” Lowering his head to where the cream is starting to run just below your naval and licking a wide strip along the stream of white painted on your body. Right away you moan, the heat from his tongue chasing the chill that was seeping into your skin has you shuddering. “I’d have rathered lick at another cream though.” Lapping his tongue up your body and following the trail up your belly, all the while your hands are roaming across his back. It’s hard to stay still under him as you react to his closeness, your muscles shifting in delight at the texture of his tongue, and the way his breath fans out across your tummy. Rubbing your thighs together the slightest amount as you grow wetter the closer his head gets to one of your breasts. 

Almost there and your clit throbs and your body tenses. 

Laughing when he shoves his face between both of your boobs, covering the sides of his face in the cream before looking up at you. “Wanna taste my cream now?” Wiggling his eyebrows and you aren’t sure where the cream ends and his hair starts. 

“You’re so cheesy Dante.” 

“No. But I can go get some spray cheese if you’d rather lick that up.” Shuffling and grabbing one of the strawberries to pop in his mouth before dipping his face towards yours. As his lips connect with yours you don’t bother trying to respond to him verbally, instead letting one hand slide up along the muscles of his back and tangling in his hair. Parting your lips and moaning into him as his tongue darts out to lick the inside of your mouth, tasting some of the cream and strawberry juice on him. It isn’t a long kiss as he pulls away and grabs the other strawberry, holding it to your lips and offering it to you. 

“I ate two chocolate covered ones earlier. Those two were for you.” Smirking up at him as he rolls his eyes, tossing it in his mouth before reaching for the floor to grab the towel and wipe the cream off his face and one of your tits.

“I’ll remember that for next time.” Going in for another quick kiss making you gasp as he rolls his hips against yours, certain you could feel some of the fluid dripping from his tip smear against your belly. “Now to clean up this remaining mess the way you wanted.” The movement of his tongue is different this time, short quick swipes as he works his way up around to the tip of your nipple. Understanding why he cleaned the other off as he starts to circle his rough thumb against the hard nub, an involuntary roll of your hips as you sigh. The burning in your core grows hotter under his touch. 

Another whine as he ignores the tip of the nipple under his mouth, his lips kissing the edge of the skin now instead of lapping at it as if it’s some sort of divine nectar instead of cheap whipped cream from a can. A few more rolls of your hips as you try to edge him on, wanting more from the white haired man however he is having none of it. 

“Seems like this was more a treat for you than me.” The hand that had been massaging your other tit is now at your hip keeping you from moving while he leans more of his weight on the arm he has resting beside you as he licks everywhere but the point of your breast. Making low grunts and groans as he laps at your skin, tilting his head to make eye contact, and once he does he sends you a look that you can only describe as sinful. 

“Dante, please. No more teasing.” Doing your best to plead with him as your body thrums, you want him and you’ll do anything at this point to get it. “It was just a silly idea.” 

“Lucky for you.” Dipping his head and flicking the hard flesh with his tongue at last. “I like silly.” The hand at your hip pushing your underwear to the side and pushing his way inside your tight heat, while at the same time sucking on your tit like it’s the last thing he’s going to do. 

Your reaction is immediate as you scream his name, your back arching and pressing your chest more into his mouth as you cum around his tip that’s barely part way inside of you. His fingers circle your clit while keeping the thin fabric that divided your bodies away from your core as he works more of himself into you, trying to drag out your orgasm as long as he can. 

Growling as you respond, dragging your fingers down his shoulders and trying to press more of his body down to yours lost in the sensation before you’re panting from the overstimulation. Dante stops the movement of his fingers and lifts his head from your now abused breast, smirking at the indent of his teeth in your supple skin and the bruise forming there. Once you calm down he’ll rip those panties off your hips and fuck you for real. For now, he’s content feeling the tremors of your walls along his length while you recover from your first release of the night. 

“Guess I’m not that bad of a boyfriend after all.” 

#dante devil may cry #dmc5 #dante x reader #dante x you #dmc 4 #devil may cry #dante #dante sparda #x reader #twink writes #dante dmc #dante smut #dante x reader smut #devil may cry 5

[lewsnumerounofan]

party foul part 2 (jeremiah fisher x reader)

summary: so what if you're in love with your best friend jeremiah fisher? one drunk kiss won't change anything. right? (spoiler: it does)

notes: not biblically accurate conrad, kissing, smut, unprotected oops, somewhat public, 3k words, reader previously dated co**ad, angst/miscomm., not proof read at all

+ part 1

+ i fucking hate htis one its so bad i'm so sooryim gooo fuckjuhnbsorry oh my god and dw abt the header image!!!!!! it's okay!!!!!

your phone hit voicemail again. it was the seventh time you’d tried calling jere, but still no luck. 

“maybe he’s staying at a friends place,” belly supplied, but she looked worried too. ever since you and jere had kissed the night before, he’d been mia. steven, you, conrad and belly had all taken turns trying to reach him with no success. at first it had been expected, but it was now rounding out on 24 hours since he’d left, and worry was starting to permeate amongst everyone. well, everyone except taylor. she wasn’t too worried about it. he’s probably just moping around feeling sorry for himself, she’d said. 

unfortunately, you couldn’t quite master taylor’s level of nonchalance. in fact, you felt awful. for a few minutes, everything had been perfect. you’d been kissing the boy of your dreams–the boy you were in love with. and then…

“yeah, he kinda checks out when he’s upset. he did the same thing after mom died.”

conrad, this time. him and nicole had just come back from driving through town trying to find him. you nodded, but a tightness was slinking into your chest. jere hadn’t ‘checked out’ after suzanna died. he’d called you, and together you’d talked for hours as he wandered the streets of boston. never before had he shut you out like this. it made you worried. more than worried; it made you feel scared.

“i think i’ll try him again, just in case,” you said. because you couldn’t not do something. because you were scared you’d messed things up permanently, because jeremiah had never, ever ignored your calls.

“okay, well i’m ordering pizza. jere disappearing or not, i’m fucking starving,” said taylor. she’d hopped off her place on the counter and now started flipping through the take out flyers stuck to the fridge. steven and belly sounded their agreement. 

“i can pick it up,” you offered, “it’ll give me a chance to go look for him too.”

you were out the door soon after, steven and taylor’s argument about whether pineapple belonged on pizza still lingering in the background. feeling a bit better now that you had something to do, you let the warm summer air breeze through your car windows. jere was out there somewhere, probably doing just fine. it’s not like he’d do something dumb or get himself hurt. if you were honest with yourself, he’d most likely just crashed at an old hook up’s house. there were plenty of those around in cousin’s, and they’d likely all enjoy having jere back. you tried not to think about it. 

-

the pizza place was a 20 minute drive from the fischer’s, and you took the long route along the beach. it was a perfect summer night: seagulls called off shore, the sunset lingered to the west, and couples lazily strolling back to their cars. it was the type of night jere loved.

you were a couple minutes early for your order, so you decided to make the most of it and join the sparse crowds decorating the beach. you pulled over and parked, grabbing a light sweater for the evening weather. 

amongst the waves and people’s quiet chatter, the beach possessed a lingering hum. it was a sound that accompanied many of your fondest childhood memories, and you took comfort in it’s familiarity and peacefulness. you couldn’t help but think of jere–think about what had passed between you last night, mostly. 

did you finally tell her you're in love with her? 

you hadn’t been able to get steven’s words out of your head. the thought of jere ever liking you was one thing, but love? it felt too good to be true. 

and besides, it’s not as though it would matter if you never even got to see jeremiah again. for the first time, you almost felt annoyed at his vanishing act. he’d left you confused and frustrated and wanting more.

just then, as if you’d conjured him yourself, you noticed jere on the beach before you. his curls were unmistakable–almost the same colour as the sand. his hands were tan and strong as he leaned back on them, sun-bleached bracelets wrapped around his wrists. you wanted to take a picture of him there. keep this precious moment of discovery and summer immortalised forever.

and then he turned around, blue eyes catching yours. 

you could see the moment worry set in by the tight line that furrowed over his brows. he started to rise from the sand and you moved towards him, carried by adrenaline and anger and a little bit of excitement. halfway down the beach you caught each other, but before you could speak jeremiah was shrugging past you.

“you shouldn’t have come.”

the waves and gulls seem to mock you then–the whole perfect august night laughed in your face as you stopped, stomach sinking. it took a few moments for his words to register, and a few more for you to whip around and catch up to him. he was almost past your car when you finally managed to grasp onto his sleeve. deja vu hit you hard enough that you almost stumbled. just last night this same action led to jere’s lips on yours, his mouth hot over your body. today’s jere must have seen the memory on your face because he scoffed, pulling back sharply.

“see? you can’t even think about what happened without looking disgusted,” he said. his voice was low but convicted. closed. you hated it. 

“jere, what are you talking about? you wouldn’t know anything about how i feel–you ran away last night and no one’s been able to contact you since,” you tried. he made an attempt to keep walking but you didn't let him, this time coming to stand between him and the road. ridiculous.

“no calls, no texts, nothing. do you have any idea how worried everyone has been?”

at this jere’s eyes blazed and he took a step forwards, letting his head lower as he spit the words into your face, “yeah, i’m sure you and conrad were just about worried sick huh.”

it took quite a lot of effort on your part not to roll your eyes. what was with this boy. had the kiss not been enough? did he really think, after all this time, conrad stood a chance?

“you’re such an idiot sometimes jere,” you said, regretting it as his chest shuddered under a heavy breath. 

he laughed and looked away. his eyes were bright in the dwindling sun, his jaw harsh as he fought to control himself. slight smudges under his eyes, extra tangled curls, slightly red eyes. now that you were up close, jere looked a mess. heart hurting you reached for him, wanting to smooth back the stray hair falling over his cheekbones. to smooth over this, over him, to let him know everything was alright. he caught your hand. even this, even his firm grasp on your skin, had your body lighting up. awakening in a way it only would for jere. 

“you sure know how to make it hurt. why can’t you just fuck off and we can pretend this never happened, okay?” he hissed, but you knew jere. the way he blinked more and the way his voice changed. “just- just please go home. it hurts me to look at you right now. it hurts.”

his voice broke and he dropped your hand. you couldn’t stand the look on his face. you didn’t let him turn away from you though. this was your boy, the boy you’d been in love with every day for a year. and you wouldn’t have him thinking otherwise.

your pulse raced as you said, “it’s you, jere. it’s you and it’s always been you. not conrad. and it would hurt me if you thought anything otherwise.”

he flinched at your words but there was something in his face that changed. something small, something that took you having to know how he breathed to notice. hope. 

“jere, look at me. look at me,” you said. and he did, his eyes wide and blue. the same eyes you dreamed of. 

“i love you. i love you, jere.”

you folded the words onto his lips as you kissed him. wrapped them in sugar and pressed them onto his mouth, begging him to understand. to see what had been obvious every night you’d called him, every time you’d hugged him, every time you’d smiled at his dimples.

“i love you.”

and then you couldn’t say anything else because he was cupping your jaw, tilting your face and running his tongue over your teeth. panting as he consumed your gasps. pulled the air from you. 

jere shuffled you back until the cool press of your car met your hips. under him and the way he kissed at your neck, you had no notion of what surrounded you. no idea of anything except the heat of his tongue against your throat. your ear. your lips. 

“up,” he mumbled. that was all the warning he gave before lifting you onto the hood of your car. the metal was cold beneath you but his hands were burning as they circled your thighs, coaxing your legs apart until he could press himself against you. 

he was so big in front of you. the wide span of his shoulders, the strong shape of his hands. he was kissing like he’d hurt if he didn't. you felt feverish, you felt elated. jere broke away enough to rest his forehead on yours, chest rising and catching.

“need you,” he said. his voice was tight.

“what?” 

“said i need you.”

“here?” 

you were incredulous at first, but jere didn't even bother to look embarrassed. his gaze was level with yours and you had to blush and look away.

“we could- i mean, we’ve got my car…”

he grinned as he pulled you down, and the giggle came before you can stop it. around the vehicle and into the back seats you were both trying to stop from laughing. it was such an encapsulation of being a teenager. of sneaking around and driving each other crazy and being in love. the feeling had you collapsing onto his lap as he pulled the door closed, huffing onto the tan skin of his neck.

“this is so stupid,” you said. the grin jere gave leaves you breathless. your fingers pressed over his smile, tracing the red line of his mouth. the car was warm and dark and protected. 

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this,” he said, “waited for you.”

you wanted to laugh again but his hands were pulling up your shirt. goosebumps followed the path of his thumb over your bra, under your bra; when he put his mouth on you you moaned. in this little space you’d made the sound was a feeling and jere grinded into you at its touch. focused as he toyed with you, painting your chest red and purple with his lips.

baby, baby, you were saying as strong hands held you close. even as you tried to pull away–push closer?–from the intensity of his kisses. of having his curly hair fall against your chest and stomach. of his eyelashes brushing over your collarbone. you molded your palm to the thick muscle of his shoulder, watching it shake as he took his time drawing you out.

“please, jere.”

he knew what you meant. off comes his shirt, crumpled on the ground beneath the drivers seat. outside the sun had set. gulls still called from offshore, quiet on the other side of the car’s window. 

neither of you bothered getting fully undressed. after struggling with both your pants, he tugged down his boxers enough and helped your trembling fingers pull aside your own underwear. he was whispering you’re sure? even as you raised up on both knees, murmuring in your ear until you had him notched inside you. 

except for your stuttering breaths, it went silent in the car. jere’s hands were at your back, gently gathering your hair into a loose ponytail. he was shaking too then. 

it almost doesn’t seem real–that moment. the press of warm, bare skin. that just days ago you were best friends, and hours ago you weren’t sure you’d have a relationship at all. and now you were here on top of him, having sex in your car at the beach. you wanted to laugh again, but you were seeing white as jere filled you.

you couldn't keep your head up. you were dizzy as you fell forward into his warm chest, taken over by the stretch of him, the perfect fit. he found his breath again, enough to murmur that you were taking him so well. that you felt so good. 

“jere,” you said as his hands found your hips. nodding, kissing the top of your head, he guided you forward and then back, transfixed as he watched where you two fit together. 

it was a tight fit in the car. you had to bend over him so as not to hit your head, and jere’s long legs pressed against the back of the front seat. you don’t care much though, not when you could grind down and watch him tense up, muscles in his neck tight. it should have be criminal to look that pretty. his hair, slightly damp from fucking, curled tighter around his temples. his eyelashes were long over his cheek bones as he tilted his head back, eyes closed. leaning down to lick his adam’s apple you listened to him groan.

“can’t believe ive been missing out on this,” he said. his voice was breathy and quiet and warm on your face and you drew even with him. you wanted to arch into his hands, to bend yourself around him until every piece of your skin was held by his. you felt crazy. 

talking to him like this, when he was still inside you, when you were riding him, made you clench. already you were aching for it. jere knew it too. he was watching you, watching the movement of your body and your face like it was a special act just for him. like you were beautiful.

“jere,” you said. it was just about the only word you can remember.

he shifted beneath you, one hand coming to map the side of your ribs, the other between your legs. the rhythm changed as he began to meet you with his hips, and every breath became hinged on a moan. the way he thumbed over your clit, the way he mouthed at your tits. control was slipping away from you. fast. 

the new angle was almost too much, and as jere buried deep you gasped. your body was liquid and you almost tipped backwards, grabbing at his shoulders. like a man possessed, jere didn’t even pause. his large hand gripped the front headrest above you as he laid you down over the armrest between the front two seats. 

lying prone and naked half in the front of your car, you realized something quite quickly. your back windows were tinted. the front ones most definitely were not. 

“someone could see, jere!” you said, attempting to lift yourself up. most beach-goers had cleared out after the sunset, but faintly you could still hear the sound of people playing in the surf. jere’s tan hand on your chest stopped you.

“we’d better be quick then.”

before you had time to try reasoning, jere was pushing back into you. unable to argue, unable to say anything, you found his hand and laced your fingers together. it was all you could cling to as he fucked into you, as the heat of his body spread over you. it was warm and close and dark and when you finished, together, he stopped breathing. just for a second. then, while your mind was still hazy he pulled you back onto his lap and kissed you. hard. 

holding you there, safe in his arms. at some point he found his sweater and pulled it over your head. warm against his chest, body and legs aching. he whined when you clenched, absently, around him. still pressed inside you. it’s funny so you giggled and he groaned again and threw his arm over his face.

“don’t do that,” he grit out.

“why not?”

you were teasing. his eyes found you, tongue already in cheek. you couldn't look away from his red mouth.

“because i’ll get hard again.”

it amazed you how ready you were at the possibility. your spine already straightening. you don’t think you’ll ever stop wanting him.

but, faintly, you heard your phone ring. it was beneath a pile of clothes and it was on the last ring when you finally managed to snag it. 

“hello?” you said. jere watched you lazily, still smiling. 

“hey, uh where are you?”

you pulled the phone from your ear. the caller id read conrad. shit. pizzas. you’d gotten a bit… distracted. jere caught the name too and though his expression faded slightly, his gaze remained on yours. you smiled at him and couldn't help but kiss him. quickly. 

“yeah sorry about that conrad. listen, bad news is the pizza might be a bit cold,” you could hear groans from the other end of the line, “but uh. good news is i’ve found jere.”

you didn't bother to listen to the response, instead you leaned up to the boy you loved. kissed over his cheek and his dumb grin.

“i found my jere.”

#jeremiah fischer #team jeremiah #jeremiah x reader #jeremiah smut #jeremiah fic #jeremiah x you #bigkeepup

[unapologeticallytheworst]

Hi, posting for a bit of peer review of the idea.

Celebrity CEO/Scientist!Tony Stark/Flight Attendant!Peter Parker

Notes: 3k words. Peter is 18 and in the summer between high school and college. Tony is indeterminately in his 40s and some non-superhero-y but still action-movie-y version of IM1 played out about 5ish years ago. Weirdly not Pepper Potts or Liz Toomes friendly. I swear I don't dislike either of those characters, but I wanted everyone in a weird headspace.

Fair warning, this just kinda stops and is in a rough draft state. But I gotta know if anyone would want to read more of this before I devote more time to it. Like I'll probably still finish it but I'll probably finish my main wip first, ya know?

Peter finds himself fidgeting with his tie, but he can't help it. He is just so nervous. Mr. Toomes has already made it clear that if he messes this up he's out. And he gets it, this The Tony Stark's private plane. He isn't even supposed to be on this flight, but he was the one on standby. Today is the company team building/party and as the newest he gets to sit it out. He hadn't minded at the time, it sounded like a class and that was the last thing that he wanted to do with his summer off. Then the caterers arrived and decked out the meeting room. He got what kind of team building exercise it was then. Ned had fixed him a plate and assured him he would get to enjoy it next time. To enjoy getting paid to sit at the desk doing nothing but eat good food and wait for a phone that wouldn't ring.

But the phone did ring, and not just any phone at that. The line everyone calls the red phone, the one reserved for the clients that pay consistent 24/7 availability. He actually let it ring for second longer than he should have because he was in so much shock. He has never even seen it ring and now it was his responsibly to not only answer it but work whatever flight is being requested. Because everyone else was definitely already too far gone on the large amounts of champagne being passed around.

When he did pick up, it was one Happy Hogan saying that Tony Stark wanted his jet wheels up as fast as possible. Which wouldn't have been a problem except he wasn't cleared to work for Mr. Stark who has his own special designation. Only a select few are allowed to work his flights, because he's so valuable to the agency. Mr. Toomes even personally greets him whenever possible. He had immediately alerted everyone who needed to be told, including Toomes,who took fifteen minutes to figure out what he already knew. It was going to have to be him that worked this one.

Lost in the nervousness of an hour ago, Peter almost manages to forget about the current anxiety. But the nearly blinding gleam of the slick black town car as it rolls directly onto the tarmac swiftly reminds him. Toomes shifts next to him and Peter wishes he would have just stayed at the party. His boss isn't drunk precisely… just probably more than he should be to greet their most important client for what sounded like an emergency. What kind of emergency requires an immediate long haul flight to Hawaii he's not sure, but if there's one thing that this job has taught him, don't try to understand the whims of the rich and famous. It will drive him insane.

It doesn't even seem like the car has fully stopped, before Mr. Stark is out and striding toward the waiting plane. Their eyes meet for the briefest moment, as he passes at the bottom of the stairs, and Peter feels thirteen again. Watching the press conference, where even battered, bruised, and clearly exhausted, Tony Stark was suddenly the sexiest person he had ever seen.

He only doesn't manage to make a fool of himself by virtue of the fact that he freezes. Not that it matters much since Toomes seems plenty willing to be embarrassing enough for both of them, trailing after Mr. Stark in spite of the obvious brush offs. Peter recognizes Mr. Hogan purely because he's seen him in the background of enough paparazzi photos. He rushes to help him with the bags, thankfully only two small duffels. Happy hands them off with nothing more than a nod, dashing up the steps still seemingly as frantic as he had seemed on the phone.

Walking up the steps is equal parts terrifying and exciting. He's about to be stuck with his celebrity crush for eleven hours and if he messes it up he'll lose his job. No big deal. Not a problem at all.

Toomes is still hovering, babbling completely missing the unspoken cues that Mr. Stark isn't in the mood. He's already seated and buckled even, clearly signaling his desire to get a move on. Peter cuts through their line of sight to stow the bags, hoping it will shake Toomes. The last thing he needs is Mr. Stark in a bad mood, because his boss won't back off. That he had gleaned in his conversation with one of Mr. Stark's regular flight attendants. Sometimes Tony is lonely and looking for someone to vent to, but just as much he wants to be left alone. It's up to him to figure out which is which. Engage if he engages him. Well she had used different words, because she was quite drunk, but he got the gist. He's glad it's not a party, she made those sound worse. He can leave Mr. Stark alone and if he needs someone to listen to his problems that's okay. Maybe he can forget his own for a while.

His move does disrupt the conversation but not in the way Peter is expecting. Mr. Stark interrupts whatever Mr. Toomes is babbling about, to say, “He's new.” Peter busies himself with making sure the bags are secure, pretending not to be interested in the conversation.

His boss is quiet for a moment, before launching into, “Yeah I guess it was bound to happen. One day you were going to call on a day when the rookie was the one on standby. He's a little wet behind the ears, but he's good. It was actually Cathy, one of your regulars, that plucked him out of janitorial.” Mr. Stark's statement didn't really require that response, but at least they are talking about something he brought up. Toomes speaks again when he doesn't get a response, “She said he is too cute, smart, and polite to be wasting time cleaning.”

Peter is flooded with regret that he let this conversation happen and feels his face heat at the description. He stands and spins in time to catch Mr. Stark giving him a once over as he says, “Well, I think I can trust Catherine's judgment.” Peter knows he's probably blushing even worse. It wasn't even that kind of look, more just taking his measure. But enough to remind him that he would very much like for it to be that kind of look.

Peter blurts, “Are you ready to go, Mr. Stark? Or has anything changed since I spoke to Mr. Hogan?” It's a bit rude to cut into their conversation, but he's getting desperate to get Toomes off the plane. Happy is no help pacing towards the back of the plane with a phone to his ear.

There's a hint of a smirk on Mr. Stark's lips as he responds, “Nope. We're good to go…” his eyes flick down the little gold name tag dangling off his vest, “Peter.” As Mr. Stark looks at him, Peter gets the distinct impression that he is fighting the urge to laugh. And he gets it, Mr. Stark understands his predicament and finds it deeply amusing. Which is something… at least he's not mad.

“Well, we better get going so we can get in line with ATC,” Peter drags the sentence out hoping it will work, but instead Mr. Stark just makes an interested noise and he has to explain, “The only private runway big enough for your jet is closed out of an abundance of caution due to an issue with the TAWS system, sir.” Then trying to rescue the purpose of the conversation, “So we really should get moving, because the commercial lanes are always busy.”

They stand there in a brief awkward silence, as Peter begs with every fibre of his being for his boss to leave and his body stop noticing the way that Mr. Stark looks sprawled in the plush leather armchair. He's still clearly deeply amused at Peter's problem, which helps with his libido some, cooled by embarrassment.

Mr. Stark goes to speak, to help or hurt Peter is not sure, but Happy abruptly rejoins the conversation, “The house will be ready, Tony. The staff will come out with Rhodey, because you know he'll complain, but I figured you would like the peace.”

Moment forgotten, Mr. Stark turns to talk to Mr. Hogan and Peter does his best to pretend that he isn't listening as he does a final check of the galley. Toomes still stands in the middle of the walkway seemingly lost by the conversation.

“So he can make it?” “Of course he's coming. It will take a couple of days, but he's coming. Think he's going to try and get Banner and Strange to come out too.” ”So we can all braid each other's hair and eat ice cream? - Sorry, I didn't mean that. Thank you for putting this together, Hap.”

There's silence then Mr. Hogan seems to understand what the holdup is, because he starts ushering Mr. Toomes towards the door, spouting random nonsense about how they need to get moving. Peter rushes after them pulling the door closed as soon as Toomes is clear. He turns and thanks Happy, who gives him a long look before speaking, “Sure, no problem, kid. Listen, be gentle with Tony, okay? He's just had a bad break up.” Peter just nods, trying to hide his surprise. It always seemed like Mr. Stark and Ms. Potts were so stable from the outside. Happy nods and goes, presumably to take a seat.

The two soft beeps from his ear piece remind him that he still needs to do his actual job now. So he tells the cockpit that the stairs and car are out of the way, who inform him of the situation so he hurries to get everything ready. Bouncing lightly with nervous energy he takes his place at the front of the cabin and says, “ATC said they can squeeze us in real quick, because there's a traffic jam on the JFK side. So if you two are all ready, we can be airborne in five.”

Mr. Stark's lips twist and he says, “You're going to skip your little safety briefing?” Most people wouldn't complain about that, but then again Mr. Stark isn't actually complaining. He's messing with him. That much is obvious. Why he's not sure, but it's definitely what's happening.

Still not sure why, Peter finds himself playing back by pointing out, deadpan, “Either of you could legally fly this plane, sir. I think you understand the safety procedures.” He can tell that he surprises Mr. Stark with the statement, but thankfully not in a bad way.

In fact given the way that Mr. Stark lights up a little and starts eyeing him in a new way, Peter would say that it's exactly the right thing to say. Mr. Stark relaxes back into his chair in a way that accidentally shows off the long lean lines of his body, looking more rock star than celebrity ceo and scientist. And Peter has to get a grip on himself, because they're not that kind of staffing agency. He almost misses what Mr. Stark says, so lost in the fantasy, “Maybe I just wanted to see you do your thing.”

Peter replies, “You can watch me do my thing once we're airborne,” and then feels the blush explode across his face as he realizes how dirty that sounds. Desperate to regain his professionalism, he adds, “But if you would rather wait an hour, because we ended up at the back of the line…” he lets the sentence trail off with a hint of challenge, because that's what this has to be about. Mr. Stark is just trying to see if he can rattle him.

He gets the impression that Mr. Stark is laughing at him as he says, “As much fun as watching you do your thing sounds,” and Mr. Stark definitely makes it sound dirty, “how about you just bring out the bar cart when we hit cruising?”

Relieved to escape whatever game Mr. Stark is playing with him, Peter tosses out, “Sure thing, Mr. Stark,” before disappearing into the galley to let the pilots know they're good to go and buckle himself into the four point harness of his jumpseat. It almost sounded like Mr. Stark was flirting with him for a second there, but that's crazy. Plus there have never been any complaints about Mr. Stark coming on to the staff. Then he wouldn't exactly complain would he? And Mr. Stark had been in a relationship.

The jolt as they start taxiing knocks him out of his thoughts and it seems like they'll make the window so he grabs the gum out of his standby bag. Toomes would kill him if he knew about the gum, but the last thing he needs is to be half deaf because his ears didn't pop right. On impulse he slips his book on the bar cart, secured to the wall next to him.

Peter finds himself weirdly excited to do bar cart for Mr. Stark. The bartending lessons had been his best scores when he had done his training. He can't do any of the fun flipping and spinning, that would be a disaster with his clumsiness, but chemistry had prepared him for mixing things. Plus the rider made Mr. Stark's drink preferences sound easy. A little bit of over pouring, but not enough to make it a single into a double. No need for anything fancy, just very well made drinks.

The chime in his ear letting him know that they've hit cruising altitude comes at him like a surprise and brings with it some of his earlier stress. He busies himself with triple checking the cart as the captain announces their flight time and ETA. Unlocking the cart from the wall and rolling into the main cabin, Peter resolves to give Mr. Stark the best experience he can. The thought that he is hurting over his broken engagement is way better motivator than the threat to his job. Especially since he doesn't need the job anymore.

Resolutely not thinking about the letter at the bottom of his bag, Peter notices that Mr. Hogan appears to have fallen asleep during take off. He did seem very tired earlier. Mr. Stark catches him looking and speaks softly, “He's been running himself ragged for me.” Peter can see how touched Mr. Stark is by what Happy has done for him, but he seems almost mad about it.

“He's your friend, he just wants to make sure that you're okay,” slips out of Peter's mouth without him meaning for it to happen as he parks the cart close, but out of the way.

Mr. Stark gives him another long indecipherable look, before speaking again, voice still soft not to disturb sleeping man a few feet away, “He said something didn't he?” Peter feels like he is betraying Happy's trust as he nods, but it's clear that Mr. Stark already knows.

Feeling the need to defend Mr. Hogan a little, “He's just worried about you. It's just because he cares.” Mr. Stark sighs at him and actually looks every bit the guy that just had a very serious break up, whose friends are worried about him. There's an exhaustion there, not the physical kind like Happy, he doesn't need a nap. He needs a break.

Mr. Stark's soft, “I know,” almost gets lost in the gentle hum of the cabin. Then he shakes himself and goes back to being the billionaire, former playboy, philanthropist that has been staring back at Peter from the glossy pages of the checkout for years. It's jarring and he gets the sense he just saw Tony, not Tony Stark, not Mr. Stark, but Tony the person. When he speaks again it's with a joking conspiratorial tone, “What do you say you help me convince him to go take a real nap? And fix me a gin and tonic?”

Peter rolls with mood change as smoothly as he can, “Sure thing Mr. Stark. Double or single?” he begins assembling the drink on automatic, he's thankful for the familiar task in the unfamiliar situation.

Mr. Stark seems relieved he doesn't make a thing of it, so Peter counts that as a win, ”Single. Shake him for me will you?” Shaking awake a stranger is one of those things that was one of those things that had felt very strange the first time but he had gotten used to with this job. Happy startles awake under his touch apparently not having realized that he fell asleep. Peter leaves Mr. Stark to deal with him as he starts pouring. “Hap, grab your cpap and go sleep in the real bed.”

Happy starts trying to protest, about how he's fine, how he doesn't need to, and Peter knows easy points when he sees them. So he tosses out lightly, “The sheets are fresh and the pillows are fluffed, Mr. Hogan. I checked myself,” then to Mr. Stark, ”Twist of lime, sir? I forgot to ask.”

Mr. Stark's smirk suggests that his, “Yes,” is about more than limes and that Peter just scored some points in whatever game they're playing. Then with a voice like honey, that makes Peter immediately understand exactly how the man in front of him gained a reputation as a world class playboy, he says to Happy, “See you can't let the kid's hard work go to waste like that. Go take a nap at least.”

#starker #This was supposed a one shot #whoops

[iguessweallcrazyithinktho]

𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 • 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐖

SUMMARY: jack always had a thing for you ever since he met you through a friend . He craved being around you and having your attention. It's gotten to the point where you were all he ever thought about. He knew he had to get you.

GENRE: fluff, SMUT

WARNING: oral(Both ways), Unprotected sex, dirty talk I guess,

PAIRING: jack Harlow x black reader

AUTHOR NOTE: this for the black girls<3

WORD COUNT: this a good 2K or 3k IDK. I wrote it on my phone so

JACK HARLOW MASTERLIST

©writing by Iguessweallcrazyithinktho do not steal or repost any of my content anywhere without my consent

Enjoy

🌸☁️💗🧚✨💅🏾🌺🌷🌠🍓🍭🎠🌼☄️

Jack just couldn't stop thinking about you. You were on his mind 24/7. You were like an addiction to him, he never stopped thinking about you. It drove him insane, but in a good way.

Jack met you a few months ago through druski. You were sitting in the back of a party when druski introduced you two.

"jack this is my friend y/n. Y/n this is my friend jack."

Jack took you in. Man You were fucking gorgeous. You had on a black dress; your curves were showing and filling the dress well, Your hair was braided into a few box Braids that fell over your shoulder, And Your face was clear from any makeup because you decide to go natural today.

Jack was taken aback by how beautiful you were. He's never seen a woman as pretty as you. It took him a bit to regain himself.

Jack stuck out his hand "hey, I'm jack."

You laughed, shaking his. "Yeah I heard."

"alright, I'm going to go get some drinks y'all keep chatting." You watched as druski walked away. When he was out of sight you turned to Jack. "So... You rap?"

You and Jack talked for the next three hours in the bar. you both felt so comfortable around each other even though you had just met. Jack was warm and inviting which was very different from any of the other guys you had spoke To. You would be uncomfortable, but not with Jack.

Jack on the other hand seemed to never get bored of hearing you talk. The whole time you talked he would listen with a smirk on his lips, his eyes would be on you giving you his full attention. It was driving you crazy and by the way he kept doing it he knew.

By 11pm you were getting tired. You had been sitting and talking with jack the whole time, you didn't notice the time passing bye.

"ah it's getting late. I should get home." You stood up from your chair and grabbed your phone and your bag. Jack quickly got up from his chair. "You got a ride home." He asked you suddenly.

"uh no. Druski was my ride home, but he's drunk as you can see." Jack looked to where You pointed he. saw druski who was currently making a fool out of himself on the dance floor.

"you want me to drive you home? Only if you're comfortable you know." Jack tucked his hand in his pocket. He was hoping you would say yes. He just wanted to spend a little more time with you.

"um.. yeah sure. Thank you." You smiled at jack making his stomach flip.

You both walked out of the club to Jack's car. He opened the door for you letting you get in. You thanked him, you loved seeing him be a gentleman even though he didn't have to.

You gave jack the directions to your place. The whole way over you and Jack sat in silence, but a comfortable one. You stared out the window the whole way over giving jack an opportunity to steal a few glances at you. He just couldn't get over how amazing you were. You were his dream girl and he didn't even notice it yet.

"ok, we're here." Jack parked His car right in front of your apartment building. "Thank you for the ride. I truly appreciate it."

"no problem." Jack said smiling at you. You chuckled a bit as you gathered your things and got out. Before you closed the door you leaned down and looked down at jack.

"I had a good time with you tonight."

Jack laughed, he started to blush at your words. "I did too."

You smiled at him once more before you shut the door and walked away.

That was the last time jack ever saw you. Three months ago since he's seen you and you were still on his mind. No matter how much he tried you never disappeared from his thoughts.

As much as jack wanted to call you he didn't have your number or anything. He cursed himself for not getting it that night when he had the chance to. He hoped he saw you again, he knew he wouldn't let you slip through his fingers that easily again.

You Had such an influence on him he couldn't help but make a song about you. You were poison(the good kind) and Jack wasn't ashamed to admit it.

-

It was the night of the album release party. Jack was excited about this, he was finally able to share the album he spent long hours into.

The party was loud with all the people in it and the music playing. Jack was enjoying himself talking to druski and Urban about some random stuff. It went on up until druski put pause on the conversation.

"yo is that my girl y/n?"

Jack head turned quickly when he heard your name. His heart skipped a couple of beats when he saw you. It seemed like you just had walked in.

He was taken aback by you again, just like the first time. you still looked the same as you did three months ago except your clothes and hair was different. Your hair was natural showing off it's amazing volume. And instead of a black dress you had on a red silk one.

"hey y/n, over here." Druski called out to you.

You smiled once you laid eyes on them. you began to walk over to them with a smile plastered on your face. with each step Jack's heart thumped against his chest. It was finally happening, he was seeing you again.

"hi guys!" You gave druski a hug along with Urban before you turned to Jack. "Hi Jack." You said giddy as you pulled him into a hug.

Jack couldn't help the smile that formed on his face as he hugged you. He wanted to hug you forever, he feared you'll disappear again.

"hey s-so how you been?" Jack asked stumbling over his words as he pulled away. "I've been good."

Jack was ready to respond but his security guard stopped him. "Jack, you gotta be on stage bro."

Jack sighed as he turned back to you. "I gotta go. We gonna talk later though." Jack pointed at you as he walked away making you snicker. "I promise."

You smiled as you watched him walk on stage. It was great to see him again. It felt like too long, you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. There was literally no guys like him.

The party went on. Jack preformed a bit and talked to a couple of people. As much as he liked doing that he wanted to see you. He craved you right now.

When jack finished talking to all the people he needed to he went on the hunt to find you. His heart pounded against his chest as he searched for you. He hoped you didn't leave. He wouldn't know what to do with himself if you did."

Jack searched the balcony, some hallways, the bar anywhere he possibly could, but there was no sign of you. He was ready to give up until he spotted you standing in the back corner looking out at everyone.

He sighed, getting rid of the panic that was about to take over his body, then walked over to you.

"hey I been looking for you."

jack walked over to you smirking. "Oh you have?" Jack nodded.

"so we're going to talk?"

"yeah, after this ends you know. I wanna make sure there's no interruptions you know."

You nodded, "well I'll be here waiting. I'm not going anywhere."

-

The night soon ended and Jack got enough time with you. He decided to bring you to his hotel room that way you both had no chances of being caught together.

Jack opened his hotel room door letting you walk in first. "Wow this is big." you mumbled as you took in the room the consisted of a king size bed, a sitting area and a huge bathroom. Jack chuckled as he shut the door. "Yeah, I'm rich you know."

You rolled your eyes at him but laughed right after.

"sit down." Jack motioned to the couch. You both took a seat. "Let's talk. It's been a while since I seen you. How you been? Got anything going on?"

Jack looked at you with his pretty Blue eyes making your face heat up. You quickly looked away from him.

"well I've been good. I finished school and I got a job as a nail tech which I love."

Jack oohed making you laugh. "You know how I love nail tech." Jack blurted out.

"yeah. You have a song on it. Speaking of music congratulations on the album. It's amazing. I know people are saying it sucks, but I genuinely think it's amazing."

Jack grinned as he looked at you. He let out a little thank you before leaning back on the couch. You took notice of his legs that were spread wide open. You knew he did that a ton but seeing it in person really made you squirm.

"so how have things been for you?" You asked. "I know you've had a long few months."

Jack nodded, "yeah it has. I've been traveling a lot, performing a lot and shit, I haven't had tons of to relax, but you being here with you really takes the stress away."

"well I'm glad." You leaned up against the back of the couch and looked at him.

"crazy how we have nothing to talk about now, but the first time we met we had a ton." Jack said.

"I think we might have talked enough. You leaned scooted closer to jack and cuddled into his side. He was shocked by the action, but wrapped his arm around you. You looked up at him with a smile.

jack couldn't hold himself back anymore. His lips landed on yours. He was expecting you to pull away, but luckily you didn't.

Jack keep the kiss up. Your mouths explored each others.

It didn't take long for you to start straddling jack. Your kiss never broke even when jack picked you up and even when he laid you on the bed.

You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him deeper into the kiss. You could feel Jack's hand trailing down your body. As he grew closer to your cunt you whimpered.

Jack pulled away from your lips. "Let's get this off." Jack motioned to the dress. You let him pull it off of you; you were left in nothing but a pair of black panties.

You started to grow shy by the lack of clothing on your body, but jack wanted none of that.

"don't be shy. You're fucking beautiful. And I'm going to fucking show you." Jack leaned down and kissed down your chest and your stomach. His hand looped under the band of your panties slowly before he pulled them down. The whole time his eyes never left you. It sent shivers down you spine at how he looked at you.

He got in between your thighs and kissed up them. You bite the bottom of your lips as you watched him tease you. He knew you were yearning for him. He fucking loved it.

"jack, please."

"please what?" He asked as he looked up at you. "Please eat me out." You breathed out. You cringed at your words, but your mind was soon cleared when you felt Jacks tongue on your pussy. He licked up your fold tasting you.

Your hands flew to his curls, you pushed him in needing more to which jack replied with a grunt.

"fuck, your tongue feels so good jack." You groaned as your back arched off the bed. Jack looked up at you through hooded eyes. You looked so hot in this position. He wasn't going to lie, he's been dreaming of this moment and now that he's experiencing it he never wanted it to end.

You released a few moans as jack continued eating you out. He was so good at it it didn't take long before you were close to your high.

"jack, I'm going to cum." You slurred out. Jack pulled away briefly to tell you to. "Cum for me pretty girl."

The nickname was enough to leave you a moaning mess. From all your squirming jack had to hold you down. He couldn't help but smirk, with his tongue he did that to you. Just imagine his dick.

Jack got up from in between your legs. Insanely he went to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his lips which made you smile.

"how long have you wanted to do that?" You asked him. "Fuck For too long."

You laugh as you sat up. "Well now it's my turn. Lay down." Jack smirked at your demand and laid down.

He got rid of all his clothes leaving him in nothing. You took his dick in your hand and stroked it a couple of times as you looked up at him. Jack moaned a bit, but not enough for you.

You leaned down and took your time licking him slowly from his balls to the tip. You looked and watched his mouth fall open at the feeling. Jack twitched at the slowness, it was too much to handle.

Once your tongue reached the top you swirled it around the tip collecting pre cum before you took him fully in your mouth. Jack hands gently fell to your hair (he was being sure not to mess it up), he slightly pushed your head down on him. You gagged at him hitting the back of your throat. He was long, you knew you wouldn't be able to take all of him.

Your hand took the place of what your mouth could. You stroked and sucked him making Jack twitch in your mouth. You noticed very soon that you weren't hearing much noise from jack other than a few grunts here and there. You pulled away and looked at him. "Are you holding in your moans?"

Jack nodded, his cheeks starting to get red. "Yeah, I get shy sometimes."

"don't be shy Jack, I wanna hear you. It's such a turn on."

You returned your mouth to his dick making jack hiss. He took your advice and began to moan. You grew wetter as you listened to him. He had such a pretty moan that it made you moan.

The feeling of your mouth and hand was just too much for jack. He came right down your throat with a loud moan. "FUCK!"

You swallowed every last drop as you pulled away from a panting jack.

"you good?" You asked jack as you crawled up to him. Without responding jack flipped you over so you were on your back.

He grabbed your legs and made sure he was in between them. He grabbed his dick and Ra it between your fold collecting your wetness. You moaned at the feeling but not as loudly ad you moaned when he pushed into you.

"so fucking tight, pretty girl. Such a good pussy." He mumbled as he went deeper and deeper into you.

Before he started he asked if you were doing ok. You nodded giving him the green light to go and which he did.

He thrusted into you. You both moaned at the feeling. Jack leaned down and kissed you as he keep fucking you. Just like earlier your tongues explored each others mouths. Your moans from him filling you up filled his mouth.

When jack pulled away he hissed and looked down in between you both. He watched as his dick disappeared into you. It made him twitch see how you swallowed him.

"such a warm tight pussy. Takes me so well. Fuck , you're going to make me cum." Jack moaned out as he buried his face into your neck.

His thrust grew faster. Your moans grew louder every time he slammed into you hitting your cervix and g spot. It didn't take long before you felt the burn in your lower stomach.

"jack I'm going to cum." You panted out.

"where do you want me to cum huh?" Jack looked up at you waiting for your answer. "On my stomach please."

Jack nodded and sat up. He thrust in you harder a few more times. You came after the third one. You moaned out loudly gripping the sheets beneath you.

Jack wasn't far behind you. He pulled out of you, he stroked himself a couple of times before he spilled his seed on your stomach.

You moaned and looked down at the mess on you. It was hot and enough to turn you on again.

Jack got up and grabbed a towel from the bathroom. He wiped the cum off of your stomach before throwing the towel somewhere in the room then climbing in the bed.

"so was that good?" Jack asked. You turned to him and nodded. "More than good."

"good." Jack stayed quiet for a minute before speaking again. "Can I take you out a date? A proper date."

You looked at jack, "hm... I think I can do that with you."

Jack smiled. "Shit, I'm excited." Jack wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a kiss.

he finally got the girl he wanted. He couldn't be more happy

----<3----

Feedback bitches?

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack Harlow smut #jack Harlow x black! reader #jack Harlow fanfiction #Jack harlow x you

[yarrystyleeza]

The North Star (T.T)

Tristan Thorn x female! Reader

No warnings, absolute fluff, maybe a little bit of angst? But happy ending. <3

Summary: you and your childhood best friend Tristan had to split ways in cause of your discordant lives, but you somehow try to find time for you to be together again, doing the thing you've always loved since you were children, stargazing.

Word count: almost 3k!

Writer's note: I wrote this in less than 24 hours so forgive me if anything dropped off the plot or doesn't make sense. But I wrote it with all my love, I hope you enjoy it. <3

Goddamn it, you've always hated waking up early, mornings are always exhausting, specially after spending the night stargazing from your window, looking at the beautifully dotted sky, the wide dark canvas that was decorated with the scattered sparkly little white jewels. They've always caught your attention, they made you lose conversations sometimes because you paid more attention to them than the person talking to you, and sometimes you'd walk into some tree or a wall for keeping eye contact with them. You'd miss them throughout the morning when the sun is covering their beautiful gaze against your curious irises, something about them was so magical, enchanting, keeping you thirsty for more, and you loved how they kept you wanting them at your sight.

That's why you hated mornings, besides the daily chores you'd do around the house, they make your hatred towards mornings becomes more of a rivals'... Well, except the mornings where your mother decides to send you to the market to grab some house needs, this would always make you jump out of your bed with excitement.

It's pretty much the same this morning, the sunbeams are blinding you through the window glass, playfully caressing your lids, you shift in your bed, trying to hide your face from the morning sight on you. Your mother chirps from behind the door, "dear, I need some groceries for this evening's treat, you need to be up!" you scramble out of your sheets and run to wash your face, heart fluttering like the wings of a young butterfly. Soon you're in your pretty floral day dress and fixing your locks in front of your mirror, you add the little star-shaped ornament to your gathered bangs, you put your leather shoes on and spring out of the room, taking your umbrella off the hanger on your way out of the house.

The summer breeze fills your lungs as soon as you open the wooden front door, you realize how pretty the weather is today, well, mornings aren't always that bad after all, you knew that fact deep down in you. You make your way down the hill to town of Wall, where you had lived your entire life till now, a small town with few people, cozy on winters, freshening on summers, you never thought of leaving it, you loved living here anyway, you knew you'd never find a place more peaceful than this.

Or, maybe it's because there was someone here that's always on your mind, the young man who works at the very shop you always shop from. That's why you've always loved the shopping mornings, you get a chance to meet your crush, and talk to him a bit about your shared habit, stargazing.

Your journey to the center of the town doesn't take much of power nor time, but you make it to the shop with raspy breaths, you support your body on the brick wall of the shop to take your breath, and the moment you felt your heart beating calmer, you turn immediately to get inside. Maybe the journey itself wasn't tiring, but the excitement that overwhelmed you was the reason for this unstable heartbeat for sure.

You stand in a not quite long queue waiting for your turn, when your eyes meet his, he smiles at widest and waves at you. It's been a week since you last saw him, he told you about the north star he's been gazing at for a while, and you told him you were gazing at it on the exact same night, too.

The line moves a little, and in less than an hour, you're finally facing him, "what a good morning, y/n! How are you today?" he cheers the moment you step in front of him, he can't help the loud blush on his stretched cheeks, "I'm good, you?" you try to look more chill and calm, "well I'm doing great that I got to see you today, is there anything I could bring you?" but instead, your face turns absolutely red at his answer, his smile is brighter than the summer sun, his eyes are sparkling with unexplainable joy. "I-- I have this list..." you search through your pockets, you find the paper and hand it over to him, he knits his eyebrows, his honey brown eyes are popping out, "well, that's a long list, sure you have someone with you to carry all this stuff?" your pouted lips answer his question, shake your head, "but I... I think I can make it on my own--" you argue, "wait a second," he cuts you off and runs to the back of the store

He's back in a minute, and he's gathering all the goods you ordered from around the shop in an act that's cannot be described in less than a haste. You're surprised by how fast he looked around the place, picking bottles and herb jars off the shelves, flour and potato sacks, chocolate, cheese, and eggs are quickly packed, he seems excited, to your surprise, but you keep watching him, with amusement.

He brings the groceries on the counter, "did I forget anything?" he's panting, looking back at the list in his hand, you shake your head with a wide smile, "no, no, not at all, you did amazing, Tristan!" you couldn't stop the redness from growing on your cheeks, and the wide grin that always forms on your sight in his presence, he exhales a shaky laugh. He passes out of the counter and picks the sackcloth bags and bolsters them to his chest, "Tristan, what are you doing?" you're surprised again, "I'm walking you home, you thought I was gonna let you take them there yourself?" he passes you, and you had no other choice but to grab the last bag and the end of your dress and try to keep up with his pace.

You and Tristan have been best friends since you were children, but as both of you grew up, your lives kind of got separated, his shifts at the store and your house chores and studies weren't leaving space for you to be together, and all the time that was available for both of you was the time you meet him at the store. Result of this, you don't get to stargaze together anymore.

"I've been reading this book about the North Star, they call her Polaris sometimes," he starts as he slows his pace a little to align with you, he parts his lips as if he's about to speak, but smiles, "she's always there at night, and she's always shimmery and you can find her from anywhere in the world," he catches a glimpse of you before continuing, "but I think that North stars shouldn't always be in the sky among other stars," he has his eyes aimed forward, "sometimes it can refer to a person, someone who is an actual guide, or someone who is believing in you," you couldn't help but think of him.

Tristan has always been supportive to you, never turned you down, always encouraging you to do the things you love. You wanted to be an astronomer, and you are halfway to achieving your dream because of him, aside from you studying hard for this dream, he usually brings you books about astronomy on the days you meet him at the shop, he'd take rests just to read with you, even though he gets his little salary deducted, and you'd tell him that he needs this money, but still he'd stay there with you just to enjoy the couple minutes of you reading together.

Eventually you make it home, you both walk up the hill and you knock on your door, your mother greets you and takes the groceries and pays him after thanking him for his genuineness. "y/n?" you were entering your house and about to close the door, you stop and turn to look at him, "yes, Tristan?" you can feel your heart jumping against your ribs as you think about how soft his voice was when he called your name, "we haven't went stargazing together in like-- months, maybe years, can we-- do it tonight? I-- I need to show you something I discovered... It's a-- um... " his voice is shaky a little, he's nervous, and the little hairs of his bangs are sticking to his forehead of all the summer sweat, "yeah, yeah! Tonight, of course," you too are excited, you chuckle, "picnic, tonight?" you ask, "yeah! Sounds-- sounds great, yeah, picnic, yes! See you then!" he nods with a couple giggles and turns away. He looks back at you for a last time before he walks back down the hill.

You continue on with your day, preparing for the treat your family hosted, and it was a busy, stressful time, but thinking about ending your day with Tristan, doing the very thing you two love the most since you were kids — together again, it gave you a sudden relief that you will get your own treat after all.

But still, you couldn't help but think about how nervous Tristan was this morning, he was garbled, tripping over his own words. You know he cares about you, but you're his friend, you know this, even if you feel so much about him, even if you actually love all of him and wish to the stars every night that he finally becomes yours and forget about that Victoria who never cared for him as much as you do, that you're willing to give him your heart the moment he asks you for it, but in the end, you knew that he's your friend, and might never be more than this.

This saddens you, but either way, you would be happy for him being happy, because you love him, and the circle spins around in your head.

The night falls faster than you think, and you are done cleaning the dining table after the guests have left. You beg your parents to let you go with him like you two used to, and after minutes of unstoppable begs, they let you go with Tristan. You've already made his favorite strawberry and cream cheese pie, you put it in the basket along with the other sweet treats you spent your morning preparing for him, imagining his wide smile and rosy cheeks and his startled talk, appreciating how much effort you put into this.

Your mind wanders a little further, imagining how he would fondly caress your cheek, how he would tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, how he would brush your lip with his thumb and, how sweet must his cherry colored lips would be, as he would join them with yours.

You exhale your thoughts out of your lungs, knowing how too far they are from reality, you pick up your basket and head outside, and walk all the way down the hill towards the wall, since it was your favorite spot to stargaze from.

You find Tristan sitting on the plaid picnic blanket, and in front of him was a dinner he prepared for the two of you, your favorite baked stuffed potatoes, and a bottle of peach champagne, you smile and rush at him. The hug was... Different, so different from how it used to feel, you've always hugged him as a friend of yours, your best friend, but how you feel now is so different, it ignites something in you, unlocks a new path of feelings, the no longer kids, the path of the three words and 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you'.

You both sit down and spread the goods over the sheet, and as you expected to be, Tristan is over the moon, he's appreciating each cookie you crafted individually, and how you beautifully braided the dough on the top of the strawberry and cream cheese pie, and how amazing the brownies you baked are. You are overwhelmed with his sweetness, and you can't help but replay the thing you thought of before you came here.

You two start your dinner, and finish with some pie and biscuits. He pours you a glass of champagne as you lift your head up to talk to your befriended stars, asking them for a sign, a guidance, something that will tell you if you should continue or back away and maybe end all this pain in your chest for good.

"y/n, your glass," it's a little tilted between your fingers, almost spilling the drink out of it, "you're looking at her, right?" he nudges you softly with his shoulder, you sigh a little chuckle as you stare at him, "Polaris, she's beautiful, I've always thought I could live there one day, among them," you look up again, holding the glass in your right hand while supporting your body to the left one.

You feel a warm caress on the skin of your left hand, you look down to see Tristan walking the buds of his fingertips over the back of your hand in a motion so delicate, you look up at him to find his eyes fixed on yours, in a new way you never witnessed before, a way which sparks something in you.

"Tristan?" you try, but his innocent deer eyes were locked with yours. "y/n, I..." he pauses again, lips parted, he looks at your mouth, your hand, then back into your eyes. By this moment, you were fully aware that whatever you've been fighting back might be true. You put your glass down on the rug, tilt your body to fully face him, his breath is shaky, "Tristan, is there anything wrong?" is the only thing you could say.

"y/n, that night I told you that I was gazing at the north star, it wasn't any north star, it was my own north star, it was you, y/n. You are my North Star." he holds your hands close to his chest as he gazes your eyes with his vast brownies and doe-like lashes, "I couldn't find better words, I'm lost... I'm lost within you... You are my star, I don't think I need to stare at the skies to seek the sparkling that I only find in your eyes," Tristan has always been troubled with how to explain his feelings, but at this very moment, he is confidently staring into your curious eyes, and saying these beautifully knitted words, that created a loving sweater for sure it warms your soul.

Your mouth drops open, maybe surprised of how fast your prayers were answered, or maybe because this was even more charming than you thought things would be, but you were amazed, no doubt. The edges of your lips are slightly stretched, but you were too amazed to express a whole smile. "I'm sorry, y/n, I know I shouldn't 've said tha--" it was your time to take the move, you silence him wrapping your lips around his, in a casual fashion, your eyelids fall closed and, so does he.

This was better than you had pictured, the kiss was tender like his innocent heart, his lips were soft, sweeter than cherries, citrus stinging the tip of your tongue as you taste the peach champagne on his lovesome lips, the toasted nuttiness are swirling along with the sweetness of the strawberry and cream, feeling your heart swelling with a new feeling that you never thought of before, is this what they call love? You're sure it is now.

You part away from him, hiding your face behind your palms, "damn me, I'm so sorry, Tristan, I thought--" he cups your cheeks in his hands, silencing you by simply looking into your eyes. "y/n, my beautiful star, I love you... And I want you to be my North Star forever, my very own Polaris, will you be my North Star?" his shiny honey irises stared back at yours, despite the dim lights you were soaked in, you could see the reflection of yourself in his vast eyes, and if you look closer enough, you might see the stars you never thought of.

You softly nod, and a smile stretches across both of your faces, "yes, I will, I love you, Tristan," you finally say it, and that's when his lips meet yours, and you both mesh in the adoration that was kept within, slow, little, sweet, tinder kisses that might have been sent from heavens and straight onto your lips.

You part once again but this time, both of you are sure of what you're feeling. "I can't believe I just kissed the most beautiful girl," he hides his face as it reddened, you couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable he is, you caress his cheek, resting his chin in your forehand, "as if you're not the most beautiful boy in this world," he chuckles.

"can I ask you a question?" he asks, after lying you under the blanket of the sparkling sky and peppering your cheeks with all the lovely kisses he kept all those years — for long minutes you lost the count of, "sure?" you snuggle in his arms to the warmth of his chiffon shirt, "we're not 'friends' anymore, right?" you shift your head and look at him with knitted eyebrows, "just making sure." he chuckles.

Taglist: @mindidjarin @acharliecoxedfan @v4leoftears @itwasthereaminuteago @munsonownsmyass

Comment "💖" if you like to be added in my taglist.

I hope you all enjoyed it, if you did, please like and reblog it would mean a lot to me <3

I hope you all have a great day! <3

#yarrystyleeza #charlie cox #tristan thorn #tristanthorn #tristan #tristan thorn fanfiction #tristan thorn x reader #Tristan thorn x fem! Reader #fanfic

[anyataylorjoys]

text posts about a show rack up 3k notes easily in 24 hours but intricately designed gifsets that people worked for days on will get somewhere between 200-500 notes after 2 weeks? I hate it here

#saw a gorgeous pjo set with maybe about 400 notes and a text post immediately after about the show with 4k #I just can't comprehend why people don't care about gifs anymore on the gifset website

[anjaelle]

Warped | Part I

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Characters: Jake 'Hangman' Sersin x Black!Reader (Late 20s) x Mickey 'Fanboy' Garcia Word Count: 3k Warning: Unreality (basically) Summary: A road trip cuts through a small, nowhere town and gets a little freaky. a/n: I'm a bitch who loves to be a little extra with her plots. Below is an accompanying mixtape with some vintage bangers.

Masterlist | ꩜The Warped Mixtape ꩜

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"C'mon, c'mon. Work with me."

SIGNAL NOT FOUND

"Fuck."

You sat, stranded and exhausted, in the middle of a strip mall parking lot. You'd crossed over into a small town in the middle of nowhere--you think you saw a sign that said "MILLERSFORD." But you'd been driving for hours, and could've easily confused it for someplace else. The neon lights of the 24 hour convenience store buzzed menacingly, and the cashier curiously eyed your car from the inside. Your cell signal refused to cooperate, it was an hour until midnight, and you were beginning to run low on gas.

You mentally kicked yourself for blindly thinking you'd start the new year in a new city, among friends.

You swallowed hard and slouched down in your chair, well aware that you'd need to find a place for the night. You couldn't keep driving under these conditions.

As you pushed the store's door open, a bell rang announcing your arrival. The middle aged, blonde cashier brightened up. It was then that you noticed that she was wearing a colorful garland around her neck, attached to a flask.

"Hey there! Happy almost New Year!"

She blew a tiny kazoo and you couldn't help but tiredly grin at her enthusiasm. Her joy would be infectious if you weren't dead on your feet.

"Same to you. Um--" you glanced briefly at the TV behind her, showing the raging crowd in New York. "--Is there anywhere nearby where I can sleep for a bit? I've been on the road for most of the day and I need to lay down."

She leaned forward on her elbows and hummed in thought. "There's an inn a few minutes down the road." She pointed south, into the darkness, "That probably has some vacancies. I think Dawn's boy might be working the check-in there." The woman giggled and shook the flask that appeared to be empty now, "I need to ease up on the sauce. I forget the boy's name. But let him know that Janie told ya about it, and you might get a little discount."

You weren't sure you really needed a discount for a small town inn, but you appreciated the friendly reminder anyway. You grinned, thanked her, gave her a tip for her troubles, and dragged yourself back to your car to contemplate your life and terrible choices.

"'No, I won't take the train'," you murmured to yourself, "I'll drive. It'll be nice to be alone.' What an idiot."

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

Dawes' Inn wasn't particularly difficult to find. The bright green vacancy sign beamed like an oasis in the middle of a vast desert. You could almost smell the hotel disinfectant the minute you got out of your car. And as you rolled your luggage through the dimly lit lobby, you noted how depressing everything looked. Faded floral wallpaper decorated the walls, and a church service played on the flat screen mounted on the wall. The overhead ceiling fan lazily circulated, moving around the humid air that was uncharacteristic of December...but apparently normal for the area. Your t-shirt clung to your back and your braids were beginning to frizz at the root. Your skin felt sticky. Your mouth felt dry.

As you crossed the lobby to the concierge desk, you noticed a college-aged boy with blue hair and tattoos, reading a comic book. On the wall behind him was a large American flag with a framed photo of Donald Trump in the middle. You pursed you lips, and began to consider if sleeping in your car would be the better option. The boy glanced up at you and waved politely.

"Hey, sorry," he motioned with his book, apologetically, "I was kind of in the zone."

"No problem. I just wanted to get a room for the night." Your eyes glanced up at the photo again, and he followed your gaze, then winced.

"My Aunt Ginny's idea. Sorry..." he placed the comic book under the counter and began typing away at the desktop, "I promise, me and my mom aren't like that."

"That's comforting to know." At this point, you didn't have much interest in small talk. Sleep crept up on you, and you hid your yawn behind your hand. Getting the gist of your capacity for conversation, the boy rushed to get your information. As you mentioned Janine from down the road, he rolled his eyes but laughed.

"I swear, she'd be our official marketing rep if she wasn't so stubborn."

He tore your receipt from the printer and handed it over, along with two keys ("One for the safe and one for the door. They're labelled."). As you hauled ass across the parking lot, you checked your phone and saw that it was 10 minutes until midnight. You'd given up hope on getting to watch the ball drop. What was the point, if you were alone in an unknown town? It was just another day now.

The room was clean, at the very least. The scent of lemon cleanser smacked you across the face. You sighed tiredly.

5 minutes to midnight.

You pushed your bag under the writing desk beside the entrance and collapsed onto the springy, quilted bed. The digital alarm clock on the nightstand had to be as old as you are, if not older. It looked like something you'd find in your grandmother's house.

1 minute to midnight.

Your eyes drifted closed. You missed your parents. You briefly wondered if you should call them. You knew they'd very likely answer you, but your pride wouldn't allow you to concede.

10...9...8...7...

Someone in the distance shot off a gun. Or maybe it was a firecracker. Your head was pounding. You should've taken ibuprofen.

4...3...2...1...

HAPPY NEW YEAR AND YOU ARE LISTENING TO KMRB, PLAYING THE BIGGEST HITS OF TODAY

The clock went off, blasting the radio at damn near full volume and causing you to shoot out of the bed with a start. The sun peeked from behind the floral curtains and you shielded your eyes. As you reached for the nightstand, you noticed that it was 9am and that you'd been dead to the world far longer than you'd intended.

"All you've got is this moment Twenty-first century's yesterday You can care all you want..."

Through the fog of confusion, you managed to find the volume button and turned the music down so you could collect your thoughts.

"Huh," You rubbed your tired eyes. You heard people chattering outside of the door and numerous car doors slamming. It was the most life you'd heard since your arrival to the small town. First things first, you needed to find your phone. You could've sworn that you'd put it on the nightstand, but it may have fallen in your sleep. You looked around, moving the pillows and the blanket. You jumped to your feet and pulled the blankets off, listening for the telltale clatter. When nothing fell out of the sheets, you groaned in frustration and dropped to your knees to look under the bed.

"Fuck..." you mumbled, "Did I leave it in the car?"

If you did, it was very likely dead by now. You looked down at yourself to see if you could get away with running out to your car and running back without being judged for your appearance. Rumpled denim short-shorts and a tank top wouldn't be the most risque thing to show up on the streets of a town like this. You decided to risk the judgement.

As you crossed the threshold and stepped onto the scorching hot motel pavement, you squinted through the sunlight to see the parking lot filled with cars and people. When you took a closer look, you noticed how old the cars looked, and how outdated people were dressed. You could tell the confusion was evident on your face as your eyes swept over the scene in front of you.

A chorus of excited voices chattered over one another as they walked in the direction of the hotel lobby--presumably for breakfast. The freeway was busy with traffic, which was a large difference from how empty it was the night before.

A few women around your age walked by you, one clad in a pink sundress with ruffles across the neckline and the other in a blue polka dotted dress, with hair teased higher than you knew was even possible. They were deep in conversation when you waved them down.

"Excuse me?" You asked as they passed. They stopped and regarded you, the blonder of the duo in the pink dress looked you up and down and frowned. You couldn't get a read on what that expression meant. But you powered through the urge to question it, "Hey. Sorry to interrupt. Is there a convention going on or something?"

They exchanged confused glances, then looked back at you.

"...A convention?" The polka dotted dress asked.

"I mean, everyone is wearing vintage stuff. The cars?" You motioned in front of you. You were confused what THEY were confused about.

The two women exchanged glances again and the pink dress squinted at you.

"What the hell are you talking about? Vintage? This is custom made." She turned to her friend and scoffed, "Cassie, is she crazy?"

You squinted back, "Are you playing with me? Are you guys in character or something?"

"You're insane. Crack is wack, you know." The pink dress said, guiding her friend away. "You'd think they'd be more selective about who they let into this place."

"Oh get over yourself," you called back. "It's a MOTEL in West Nowhere. Not the Ritz Carlton."

You'd be more upset about the microaggression--macroaggression, really--if you weren't sure you were surrounded by people who were in on a joke you didn't know about.

You decided to just get to your car, find your phone, and head back to your room so you could plan the rest of your trip accordingly.

But you couldn't find your car anywhere. In the sea of ancient red and silver cars, or cars with wooden paneling, you couldn't find your trusty 2018 Honda Accord anywhere in sight. You walked between the rows, growing more frantic by the minute.

"Where the hell are you?" you muttered in frustration. You decided to fish out your keys to click the unlock button, and the car that responded was...not your car.

It was a Honda. It had your plates. It was the same bright red color But it was NOT yours.

You backed away from it and looked down at the keys in your hand to see that it didn't match the ones you had last night.

"Cool, cool, cool, cool. Someone's just playing a trick on me." You muttered. You felt your breathing picking up and you turned on your heels to rush to the hotel lobby. Following the crowd of people, you heard bits and pieces of conversation.

"...and I told Clara that it's expensive to go to West Berlin. We're trying to save for college here..."

"...forced to take Benny to the mall. I dunno, I might just leave him at the arcade..."

Some song from the 60s played through the speakers in the lobby--which looked much more vibrant than it did the night before. And as you rushed to the front desk, you caught sight of the smiling portrait of Ronald Reagan beaming at you evilly from the wall that had an entirely different portrait just 9 hours before. The young woman behind the counter smiled curiously at you, as you absolutely had a look of both confusion and panic written all over your face. She wore a sky blue dress with huge shoulder pads, and her hair in a big, feathered style that you imagine took a very long time to do. You were impressed with her dedication to the bit.

"Good morning, sweetie." She popped her gum cheerfully as she shuffled around some papers in front of her. "How can I help you?"

"Hi, um...I need a little bit of help here. I can't seem to find my car. I thought I parked it in the spot designated for my room, but maybe I made a mistake. I was pretty tired last night."

She waved away the apologetic tone of your request, "It happens to the best of us. I wasn't in last night, so I won't be the best person to help you. But my cousin was. Let me go grab him from the back."

You thanked her profusely as she disappeared behind the office doors. And as your drummed your fingernails on the counter awaiting the blue haired boy from the night before, you thought about how worried your friends must have been. To them, you drove into the night and didn't show up the next day. They probably thought you were in a ditch somewhere.

You were deep in your thoughts when a blond man sidled up to the counter. A blond man who was absolutely NOT the person who helped you the night before. You felt hyper aware of the fact that you looked a mess. You were in last night's clothes, and you hadn't even washed your face, yet. And, still, his eyes raked over you like he was dying of thirst and you were a glass of ice water in the desert.

"Well, now...you're a sight for sore eyes. How can I help you, ma'am?"

He shot you a wide, flirtatious grin and leaned forward on his elbows. You forced yourself not to stare at the way his sleeves hugged his arms. Your car was missing. Now was not the time.

"Uh...hi. Hey. Um..." you mentally kicked yourself. Use your grown up words, Jesus Christ. "Could you please check to see what spot I was supposed to park my car in? I think I may have made a mistake, and I wanna double check."

He quirked a brow at you and leaned back slightly.

"When did you come in?" He pulled a massive leather bound book from under the counter and began thumbing through it.

"Around 11:45-ish."

His hand stilled over the pages and he peered back at you, curiously. "You sure?"

"Absolutely."

He hummed and tapped his fingers on the pages again, "I was here all night long, and I don't remember you coming in. And trust me...I would've remembered you."

You pushed away the warmth in your cheeks to clarify, "Well, you weren't at the counter last night. It was a boy. He was kinda young. Had blue hair and tattoos."

The confusion on his face intensified, "Nobody here looks like that. Ginny would have a fit." He suddenly laughed, "Are you sure you weren't uh...imbibing?"

You didn't laugh. This wasn't funny. You just wanted to know where your goddamn car was. You pulled your ID out of your pocket and handed it to him.

"Here. See if you can find my name in the system. I obviously made a reservation here if I have keys and managed to park in the lot."

He picked up the card and laughed again. It was a loud, sharp guffaw that made you even more annoyed than you already were.

"Are you pullin' my leg?" He said, laughing again, "Did you get this from one of those joke shops by the freeway?"

"What are you talking about?" You said, leaning forward on the counter. At this point, you were stopping yourself from jumping over it to strangle him.

He pushed the ID back over the counter and tapped his finger at your birth year.

"You need to go to the DMV and get this sorted if this is real, Marty McFly. How the hell are you gonna give me an ID saying you're born almost a decade from now? C'mon."

Now you were looking at him like he was deranged. Almost a decade from now? You looked at your ID again, and it looked the same as it always had.

"Are any of you ever going to just break character and help me?" You asked in frustration. "I'm sick of this. You weren't doing this yesterday!"

"I didn't know you, yesterday." He responded, the mirth of the situation still evident in his face.

If you had the energy, you would've jumped over the counter then. Instead you took a deep breath and asked if you could borrow his phone. You weren't surprised when you were handed a rotary phone instead of a cell phone. Because of course he'd do that.

You dialed the first number that came to mind, begrudgingly, and listened as someone picked up on the second ring. You expected to hear your mother's voice, but your heart stopped in your chest and your hand trembled.

"Hellooo hello... this is Myra Lloyd. Happy New Year!"

You nearly dropped the receiver. The voice was as clear as day, but younger than you remembered. And you hadn't heard it in over ten years. You swallowed hard. You had to be dreaming. This wasn't real.

"...Grandma?" You whispered, gripping the phone in your fist.

"Hello? I think you may have the wrong number, dear." She said, in her vibrant sing-songy voice that you missed so much. You heard a teenager calling for your grandmother in the background, and she responded, "Oh! It might be her. I'll ask. Are you looking for Deirdre?"

Your heart squeezed at the sound of your mother's name and you immediately hung up. Suddenly everything sounded far away and all the air escaped from your lungs.

You stared at the phone in shock, and the man behind the counter waved in front of your face.

"Hey...are you alright?"

You couldn't explain to him that you'd just heard your dead grandmother's voice on the phone. Who would believe you? You wouldn't have even believed it yourself if you hadn't heard it with your own ears.

"What year is it?" You asked, refusing to look him in the eye. You silently begged him to give you the right answer to prove you weren't going crazy. To maybe give you an ounce of relief. Even if there was no explaining what just happened...

"It's 1989."

"...Oh."

It was all you could muster before you blacked out and hit the floor of the hotel lobby.

#Jake 'Hangman' Sersin x reader #glen powell x reader #Hangman x reader #This is my first time in ages writing for someone new so be patient with the baby #jae writes

[f1carsgovroomvroom]

THE ENCOUNTER

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x Fan (Charles is a big part of this story too, and MAYBE he will be involved with the fan, idk yet)

Warnings: a bit of smut towards the end, Pierre being a bit arrogant

Word count: 3k

Notes: I had to build up a little bit the story as I want this to have so plot to it and some smut 🌶 but the next part is probably pure smut. Not sure if I’m sorry about how smutty this will be.

Part two is now up

Some days are meant for staying indoors and drinking hot chocolate but that’s not how my day will go, no, because I have to take my neighbour’s dog out for a walk. Don’t get me wrong, the dog is a cutie but the weather in England is not. It’s been raining the whole morning but it stopped earlier so at least I will not get completely soaked. Luna is already excited before we even get outside but once she is outside she is even happier. A car stops and the driver rolls the window down.

“Do you know where number 26 is? I have been looking for it for 5 minutes.” The driver looked somewhat familiar but even though it rained, the sun was out and I could hardly see him properly.

“Yes, it’s kind of hidden. Let me show you the way.” I did not finish my last word and it started pouring. “Wait a second here, I will take the dog back inside so she doesn’t get sick. I’ll be back.”

The driver nodded and I ran back in the building, got Luna inside, luckily she was out just an hour or two before while it was of course raining and I had to clean her up, so this was more of a treat than a need.

Getting back outside, it was raining even more, I should’ve taken an umbrella, but here I am.

“I know parents say to not get in the car with a stranger but would you like to get in the car and show me the way?” The stranger said.

My mother wouldn’t be proud of me for not thinking about it twice and jumping in that car.

As I turn to see the driver I finally realise that it was a familiar face. It was no other than Charles Leclerc, the F1 Ferrari driver.

“So I assume you know who I am if you just made thar face.” He said, smiling awkwardly.

“Yes, I mean, I didn’t really realise until I got in the car.”

“Please don’t post about my location online, I really want peace and quiet for a few days and I am trying to keep a low profile here.”

“Oh, don’t worry I’d never do something like that. I can give you a few tips where to go where not many people will go so you don’t have to be in the house 24/7 to keep a low profile.”

“That would actually be great.” Charles said and then he looked at the road ahead.

“Okay, drive straight here and then to the right.” I continued to guide him until we got to the new built house that many people in the area had their eyes on it but it was sold before people even saw it completely built. It was in a hidden area almost, no one has to drive down that road as it is the only house and it’s a dead end.

“Thank you so much!” He said as I was unfastening my seatbelt and getting ready to leave. “Look, I could do with a friendly neighbour so maybe you wanna come inside, have a coffee and you can teach me how to hide around this city?” Charles said, and look at me expecting an answer. I would be stupid to refuse.

“Of course. That sounds great but you’ll have to take 1 selfie with me that I will keep to myself and not post anywhere.”

He laughed. “I will get you a whole set from our merch with my signature on every single piece.”

I laughed as well and we got out of the car. He led the way to the house and it was a nice new built, especially for England where every house looks similar to the one next to it. The house had some more modern design to it, which was uncommon in England.

Once in the house he asked me what I’d like and I asked for a white coffee. He quickly made the drinks explaining that he had his team come and get the house ready for him to have a bit of a break during the summer. He will spend 2 weeks between Austria and France here just as a trial before the actual summer break.

“A friend will be coming over soon. Well, you might know him, Pierre Gasly.”

“Can I get to meet him? I will keep it cool.” The fan girl came out of me.

“Of course”, he laughed, “he will be happy to know that we will have someone to guide us around so we can be as much undercover as possible.”

Charles excused himself and went upstairs to get changed and see the house. I was drinking my coffee and scrolling through Instagram when the doorbell rang. Charles rushed downstairs and opened the door to Pierre who was carrying 2 big luggage. Was I surprised he had that much stuff? No.

They started speaking in French which was not my strong point at all and then Pierre noticed me. He asked a question which I did not understand because it was in French and then Charles interrupted him.

“Pierre, this is Yasmin. I met her earlier and she was kind enough to not post about my location and actually she is willing to help us stay undercover.”

Pierre didn’t bother to answer in English and continued to say something to Charles in French, but I could tell he was annoyed.

“You might think I am a fan girl who has an agenda but that’s not true and if you’d like, you can check my phone. I would never do anything to hurt the peace and quiet that you can get here as I could never imagine having no freedom and privacy.” I said while Pierre looked at me as unimpressed as humanly possible.

He raised an eyebrow and took a few steps towards me. “Okay, everyone deserves a chance. Don’t make us regret it.”

I smiled at him and Charles looked in my direction with a look that said “we managed to tame the beast”.

“I’ll let you two catch up and I’ll be back later to show you the closest shop and a few places where no one goes to.”

The two of them agreed and as I was leaving Pierre came after me.

“Can I get your number? So we can contact you in case… you know, we got a problem.” He pushed the phone towards me and I took it, typing in my number. “Ring yourself so you have my number too and message me before you come so you don’t have to wait for us.”

He seemed a lot nicer than the first impression he gave me less than 30 minutes ago. Nice but ordering me around like I had no choice. Did I even want a choice? I did as he said and saved his number. I was surprised that he gave me his actual number as it was an Italian number, and I doubt he got an Italian number in England.

I got home and the fan girl inside me died for a second realising I have Pierre Gasly’s number. I decided to keep it calm as they both seem like genuinely nice people. Especially Charles who is even more of a sweetheart than I imagined.

I was getting ready to leave after my neighbour came back home and I took Luna back and I messaged Pierre. I knocked on the door 20 minutes later and Charles opened the door, with a shirt half undone, looking like a Greek God. God help me not lose my mind and jump on this man. I beg you.

“We are still getting ready. Well, I am ready once I finish this”, gesturing at the buttons “But Pierre… he is a different story.”

I laughed, expecting nothing else. Charles’s phone rang and he excused himself, picking up in Italian.

A few minutes pass and Pierre was still nowhere to be seen.

“My team wants me to go to a meeting in 45 minutes. I will have to leave you two to do a bit of shopping and not get Pierre killed by his fans or even worse, hooking up with random girls.”

“That’s a shame, I will show you around another time.” I said, genuinely disappointed as I would love to get to know him more and see him in a normal environment.

“I got your number from Pierre. I will send you a message so you have mine, too. Save it and let’s make sure we get a day to show me around. You’ll be my friend around here.”

For a second I wanted to pinch myself to make sure I was not dreaming, but it was the reality. I nodded and he went upstairs and spoke to Pierre.

“He will be down in 5 minutes. If not, third room down the hallway on the right.”

I laughed again and he quickly made his way out.

5 minutes passed, 10 minutes passed and at 15 minutes I decided to go upstairs to see what Pierre is doing.

I knock on the door once, no answer, twice, no answer. I open it slightly and the room is empty, so I enter.

“Pierre?” No answer. “Hello? Are you here?”

And I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind that makes me jump. I turn around and he is wearing a white t-shirt with a nice pair of jeans, just the perfect shade to match the white t-shirt. The typical large one that does not do any justice for his muscles.

“Stalker?” He asks smiling.

“Of course, I was stalking you. Interesting you have 50 t-shirts in the same shade of white. So impressive and interesting, so unexpected of you.” I said jokingly.

He laughed and God damn, if I didn’t become his biggest fan after hearing that stupid laugh in real life.

“I don’t feel like going out apart from the grocery shopping. I’ll probably just watch a movie or something. You’re welcome to join me after we are back.”

I didn’t say anything because he probably wants to watch it alone but the offer sounded good. He led the way to his rental car and we headed to the nearest supermarket. He was wearing a hat, not in the Pierre way, which was a shame and to be honest, not many people actually looked his way. We quickly made our way through the shopping list, picking up a few bits and bobs that weren’t exactly on the list but Pierre is like a little child. Wanting to try everything.

We bagged and paid everything and off we went.

“I’m sorry to be the mood destroyer.” He said, while driving.

“What?” I said, not really following what he meant.

“Not wanting to go out. I really don’t want to be recognised.” He sounded genuine and I felt so bad for him because it must feel so bad to not be able to get any kind of privacy or freedom to do what you want.

“Oh no, it’s not a problem. Honestly. I totally get that. I’m not a celebrity and I prefer to spend my time away from people. I couldn’t imagine the anxiety I’d have to go out if everyone knew me. Or expected something from me.”

“It’s not that, but people are tiring and it’s selfie after selfie and I cannot even enjoy 1 drink. I love all my fans but sometimes it’s good to have a break and just be around people I really know.”

Hint taken. Not staying for the movie.

“Of course. I can imagine.” And that’s how the conversation died.

I helped him take the bags inside and put everything away.

“Alright, then I will see you…. When I see you.”

“Stay for the movie, it’d be nice to have some company.”

“Umm…Not to sound like I’m turning your words against you, but you don’t really know me and I know you’d prefer to be by yourself.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to stay if I would’ve preferred that. You helped us today, so stay. We can have some food and some drinks and Charles will be back soon.”

I agreed and he put me in charge to choose a movie. No pressure. My movies taste might literally give him the ick but whatever. I go with an original because why not. Léon. Meanwhile he prepared some fancy cocktails that looked like a professional has made them, together with some snacks we grabbed from the shop.

“Pierre is a man of many talents.” I joked while inspecting my drink.

“Well, I have been told that quite a lot.” He winked at me, and I fainted about 4 times in my head.

We sat down and he admitted to never watching that movie but by the time we saw half of the movie he admitted it was a good one.

I couldn’t help myself but look at him because the man looked better in real life than in pictures.

“The tv screen is there.” He pointed forwards.

“The view here is better.” I said as I laugh.

He takes the remote, pauses the movie and turns his head my way.

“Ask away.”

“Really?” I say surprised.

“Yes, anything.”

“Favourite movie, favourite song, favourite food, an embarrassing thing about Charles, why do you dislike Estie bestie, opinion on all the drivers.”

He laughs. “Damn, you’re quite curious. Food, probably carbonara currently, but it changes often. Favourite movie and song are questions I’ll never be able to answer but I can show you my current playlist and my latest watched movies on Netflix. Esteban is a long story for another time and most drivers are genuinely nice and I don’t actually have any problems with any of them. Charles by far is the best out there and the most humble, but so is Max, he is one of the most underrated friend because he seems tough but he is a teddy bear.” He laughs. “Do I get to ask you questions too?”

I nod. “If you really want to. I’m not that interesting.”

“What’s your job?”

“I’m a management accountant. Boring, I know.”

“Office girl.” He raises his right eyebrow. “Are you a fan of F1?” I nod, knowing he probably will think I am a big girl fan. “Favourite driver?”

“That’s unfair but Leclerc. Ferrari, always.” He smiles. “However, I do like the ex-Redbull drivers too. Vettel, Gasly. You might know them.”

“Oh, that dickhead, Gasly. Arrogant guy. Really good in the rain. Always praying for the rain to come.”

“I know, right?” I laughed as he started laughing.

“Good in wet conditions.” He realised how that came across and quickly stopped. “Not like that, oh God, if only I knew when to shut my mouth.”

“Don’t worry, you do seem quite good in wet conditions. Like the rain, not other things. Not that you don’t look good in that way. I need to stop talking.”

He laughs but my embarrassment doesn’t go away.

“I have never had complains about that. Unfortunately, or not so unfortunately I often make the conditions wet. But only during races I need to pray for that, the rest of the time I make it happen myself.” He winks and turns on the movie. “Watch the movie until the end, I am curious.”

We watched the movie until the end. Charles messaged both of us in a group chat to say he will be late as his team are organising a little meet and greet in London for during the summer break.

At the end of the movie we discussed the end, laughed at how similar we think and I, as a stupid girl, wanted to kiss this man so bad.

“Right, now I’ll really go.” I got up from the sofa before I get any ideas.

“Should we watch another one? Or do something else? Charles will be late and I’ll go crazy. Let’s play on the simulator.”

“I have no clue how to play.”

“I’ll show you.”

2 simulators were in the same room, one with a Ferrari logo and one with the Alpha Tauri.

Take the Ferrari, make Charles’s records worse because they are almost perfect. We didn’t really get to use the simulator because I mostly watched him drive and I was more impressed by him. His muscles were flexing so much as he was moving the wheel or pressing on the pedals.

After a while we went back downstairs and started to watch videos on how the drivers use the simulator. I stretched over him a bit to grab the remote to turn the volume up and our head hit as he moved forward.

“Sorry.” I say quickly, knowing damn well it was my fault.

He laughs, now our faces so close.

“It’s okay.” He smiles.”I really don’t want to mess this friendship but..” he stops talking and kisses me. In a million years I wouldn’t have imagined I would be kissing Pierre Gasly. He pulled me closer and out of instinct I ended up on his lap. There was no way on this planet I could’ve controlled and not started moving my hips.

“Fuck.” Pierre says, as our foreheads touch. “Look, I don’t know if it’s okay. Unless you want this too.”

I would be stupid to refuse but also I should refuse. However, my head had it’s own plan and I kissed him again. His hands went up my body, under my t-shirt and then landed back on my hips and then on my ass, pushing me back and forth, feeling him getting harder underneath me.

“I haven’t slept with someone for months after my breakup.” He admits. “So, you might get quite disappointed.”

“Shut up, Pierre.”

“Bossy. That’s probably the only time you’ll get to be bossy with me. I will give you the chance to back out now. I don’t think I can be sweet right now. You tempted me the whole day. I wanna fuck you.”

“Hopefully, you’re not only words and you’ll live up to your words.”

“Upstairs now. I don’t want Charles walking in on us.”

I stood up to go upstairs and Pierre slapped my ass.

“Take off your jeans first.”

I did as I was told and he picked them up. I started walking and he was behind me on the stairs. Another slap landed on my ass and then a kiss.

The second we entered his room, the door was locked and he turned to me. The man worked fast.

#pierre gasly #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc

[eyeshields]

☆ All gift assignments should have been sent out to everyone who signed up! Keep an eye out for the check-in on the 16th ☆

It's the most wonderful time of the year ❄ AKA time for the annual Eyeshield 21 Winter Gift Exchange (version 2022). The ES21 Winter Gift Exchange is a Secret-Santa style fandom event where you make art/fic for another fan, remaining anonymous until exchanging gifts on December 21st i.e. Sena's thematically appropriate 21-themed birth date. If that sounds interesting, read on!

A plain-text version of this post (along with copies of the sign-up questions) can be found here on Google Docs.

A quick note to people who participated last year, this year's event has been tweaked slightly so I recommend reading the whole post! (Plus you want to see my graphics, I know you do.)

We're using Google Forms (derogatory) for sign-ups; if you need to change any of your responses post-submission let me know and I'll manually change your info. for you! None of the questions are obligatory since I've had issues with that, but please make sure to respond to any/all questions that are relevant to you!

Read any extra notes on the sign-up questions! If there’s a minimum answer, for instance, please make sure you have at least that minimum. If a question doesn’t apply to you (e.g. you don’t have a preference), feel free to put N/A or just skip the question

Please let me know ahead of time (e.g. before the deadline) if you need to drop out or if you don’t think you can complete your gift. I don’t have to know specifics and there will be absolutely no judgment; I fully understand that life can throw all sorts of stuff at you but prior notice will allow me or another pinch-hitter to complete the gift for you. People who don’t do so will still receive their gifts (since people work hard on these), but will not be able to participate in further events I run

On that note: there is a check-in on December 16th. This will entail me sending you a message that basically asks if you're still alive and still participating in the event. You don't need to be done with your gift at this point, but please respond to this message within ~24 hours so I know you're still good to go and I don't need to fill-in for your gift!

Fics should be around 3k words minimum (feel free to make it longer if you so desire). Feel free to submit to the official event AO3 thread as well as posting to tumblr (if you’ve got an AO3 account, if you don’t you can just stick to tumblr!)

Art should similarly be completed to whatever completed is for you, allowing for stylistic differences (generally fully lined, colored, etc.)

Once you’re posting your gift, make sure to add the event tag #ES2022WGE (or any upper/lower case derivatives of this) so that we have them all in the same place!

At some point please reblog your gift and/or add some nice tags or comments or kudos. Doesn’t need to be right away if you’re away on vacation/celebrating holidays/can’t use the internet except on Tuesdays, but people work hard on these and it’s nice to be validated!

Obligatory: ensure that your work doesn’t perpetuate discriminatory tropes and/or attitudes. On the same note, please research before writing about places and peoples with which you’re only vaguely familiar.

Feel free to send me any questions/comments you might have anytime! Sorry for my characteristically on-brand super long post and weird acronym-y event hashtag.

I hope you decide to join us; this event is my favorite!! ❄❄❄

#eyeshield 21 #es21 #es2022wge

[coccolithophore]

pug it in ✅ has gotten like 2-3k notes in 24 hours RIP my notifications

#kiwi.txt

[its-tortle]

my poll has almost 3k notes in 24 hours rip my activity tab

#hepp #shut up tortle

[eloisegrant]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡:

𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐃𝐞 𝐥𝐚 𝐇𝐨𝐲𝐚

Mutant!Oc, Filipino!OC, Marvel!OC

NOTE: Due to the lack of Filipino representation in Marvel comics, especially in the mutants catalogue, I decided to create my own. So please, enjoy this angst, action-filled and exciting opening to my original character, Sampaguita De La Hoya.

A lso, please feel free to insert yourself as Sampaguita.

WARNINGS: Swear words, mentions of drugs and alcohol, abuse, post-traumatic stress disorder,

TRANSLATIONS:

Ganda -> Beautiful

Kuya/Mang/Manong -> term for elder man or brother

Ano? -> What?

WORD COUNT: 3k

(Images are not mine, credit goes to the respective owners xx)

𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

In the Philippines, certain families stay atop others. Certain individuals have more power and money, that was just how this system worked. Enter, Francisco De la Hoya. He was one of the most influential people in the country. Being the Governor of the city of Manila, meant he was the head honcho of any and all operations in this beautiful exotic country.

Second to only the President.

So when his beautiful daughter was bought into this world, it was only fitting for a gala to take place. Heaven on earth, that was what the aunts, uncles, guests and even common folk called their beautiful daughter.

She was an angel with the prettiest eyes, a fitting addition to the De la Hoya family. As such, the birth of new life is supposed to bring love, health and prosperity.

However, as the night grew darker and the party guests left. A worry-filled revelation came to their attention.

Within the airy halls of the De La Hoya mansion, the echoing murmurs of Francisco De la Hoya and his wife Kristina filled the air. Their family doctor was explaining the horrific discovery made in their 2 week old daughter’s DNA– a mutated form of a Homo-sapiens gene that has been renamed the X-gene.

“No it isn’t possible.” Francisco passes back and forth in his office, cigar in hand, pointing it to his wife to light it up with a lighter.

“She’s what we call a mutant, sir.” Doctor Malayo points at the documents on the table carefully. Kristina gasping in anguish, terrified that she had given birth to a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“What will the media say if they find out my daughter is one of those-” he exacerbates, “those things!” He slams his fists on his desk, causing the items to rattle. “Magnus, Mystique, Angel… that blasted brotherhood of demons! Those monstrous genetics running within my beautiful baby… It sounds like a joke.” A fumed Francisco runs his fingers through his raven hair.

“They won’t find out…” The doctor stands up and walks towards a large refrigerated case. Opening it, a loud click, a large bright light illuminating several vaccines.

“These are still in the testing phase, but have a 100% success rate.” The couple stare at the small man, prompting him to continue his statement. “It successfully suspends the x-gene for at least 24 hours.” He holds one of the small injections in his hands, “...thereby physically hiding her mutant gene.

“But she will still have the gene?” Kristina pleads to the physician, anxious and grieving at the realization that their life is no longer perfect.

“You will need to administer this vaccine everyday. On the dot, same time, same routine.” Doctor Malayo emphasizes every word. “She will have to believe it’s to keep her alive.”

Ethically speaking, this was a terrible arrangement. Injecting and forcing a child through unusual and downright dangerous substances, just to cover the truth. A las, the De la Hoya’s were willing to do anything to keep their pristine image, pristine.

Francisco and Kristina exchange glances as they hear their dear baby’s coos through the monitor. With a firm nod, they turn to Dr. Malayo, “Give us all you can get.” the patriarch demands.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐀 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭

“Okay, ganda, this’ll just be a pinch and a burn.” Thea, an elder in house maid of the De la Hoya’s smiles at a now, 21 year old, Sampaguita

“Of course,” she sighs, pulling her sleeve up, “it always is.” she jokes around, rolling her eyes.

Thea could feel her chest clench at the sight of Sam’s arms, the shots would be delivered on either side of her arms, today was the right arm’s turn and it was a horrendous sight. Purple, green and blue veins, some nearly popping out of poor Sampaguita’s arm. The in-house helpers definitely felt bad about this entire situation, but they were on a paycheck.

Money was a difficult find, and they were all desperate for it. But, Thea may just not have the heart to go through with this.

“It just sucks that I have these illnesses you know like…” her words trail as she tries to remember what illness it was– all these shots were making her think woozy, making her paler than usual and made her weak.

Thea is quick to remind her of the fake illness they’ve strategically concocted for the girl, “Ms. Sam, it's for your blood deficiency, Anaemia… these vaccines are iron supplements…”

“Yes of course…” Sam sighs as the shot hits her shoulder for the nth time of her life. Had I just been born normal, I wouldn’t be like this. Poor Sam was just accustomed to the shots, but she still couldn’t accept it.

Thea removes the shot and places it in a metal dish, “Alright, ganda. You can go now.” She stands up, wiping her hands on her apron, “Goodluck today on your thesis defence!” She smiles at her resulting with a big smile coming from Sam’s lips.

Her small frame wears a long black leather cloak over her cream turtleneck, it’s November and Manila has been getting a little chilly. Her heeled footsteps echoed and trailed through the big oak hall, down the massive staircase approaching her father’s office right by the front door.

“Father… Mother…” She knocks shyly, “I’m off to college now.” Her hands do an awkward wave in order to get a little bit of a reaction from her parents.

All she gets is a look and a small nod from both of them, before looking back into their computers.

A deep sigh escapes her lips, they were never the supportive bunch, never even bothered starting a conversation or giving her any type of admiration— but they did provide her with all and more a girl her age could ask for. Nevertheless, she had an important day today and that couldn’t be overshadowed by her petty emotions and issues with mommy and daddy.

Fernando, their driver, opens the main door and readily offers to drive the only child to her college, “Thank you Mang Nando but, I’m feeling confident about today and…” she takes the keys from the man’s hands, “I’ll be driving myself!” She cheerfully squeals, running to her car.

What her parents lacked in emotional support they gave back with material things. Sam’s car was the newest Land Cruiser in the classical pearl white, a 21 year old having such things was seen as a little bit of a splurge on their end.

As Sam settled into her seat her phone vibrated, Rodrigo- the caller ID stated.

With a sigh, she starts the car and answers the call through the infotainment system.

“Sammy?” Her friend’s careful voice beamed through the car speakers.

“Ano? What do you want Rodrigo? I’m about to drive.” She buckles her belt and puts the car into drive. Rodrigo had always been a pain in the ass, but Sam loved him for it. They have been friends since the first days of elementary school, so their bond was a very irreplaceable one.

“Ah well I won’t distract you too much…” his breathlessness was abundant, maybe he was running down the halls. “Just called to let you know that you’re after 5 more people so… You’re safe.” He warns Sam causing her to smile as she exits their mansion’s front gate.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Her hands clasp the wheel as she makes a hard turn onto the main road. With that, the phone call ends.

The drive was normal, it was supposed to be normal. Heck, it was not a complicated road to drive through. However a growing interruption began to take wing a few minutes in.

Sam’s eyes begin to twitch as she reaches the first stoplight, a little weird for it to happen but she pushes on. It's probably my allergies. Pressing the gas, her head feels a sudden weight, as if it was pushing down into her, causing her to pull the car to the side, the safest area for now. A traffic enforcer notices the abrupt halt of Sam’s car and approaches her window, knocking on it lightly.

With a soft squeak, Sam, breathless due to the sting she feels on her head, looks at the officer and presses the windows down. “Ma’am are you alright? You’re on the freeway.” He leans against the car.

Sam couldn’t even respond, her vision began to get brighter as her breathing began to get heavier.

“Ma’am? Do you need assistance?” He repeated to her, her whole body felt heavier than usual. Am I having a heart attack? Please… Not now.

The enforcer scratches the back of his head, confused with Sam’s irresponsiveness and begins to dial for help, “We’ll see to it that you’re kept safe, Ma’am, just a mome-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR A FUCKING SECOND!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, glancing to the front, shakily trying to regain power over her body. She half expected the guy to shout back or call for assistance from the other enforcers but heard nothing. Great, I offended the guy.

“Hey listen, Manong I didn’t mean to shout at you-” Her eyes looked back at the enforcer, who was standing impressively still. “Huh?”

She waves her hands in front of the man, “Kuya, don’t be so playful! I didn’t mean to freak out, you were just talking too much.” Exasperated, she tries to lighten the mood. But no, the enforcer was still frozen, impressively still. It almost looked like the guy was playing a joke but it took a fly landing on his hand for Sam to notice, he was really stopped in time.

She heavily breathes as she realises, even the cars surrounding her were in a halt. “What the actual-” Looking up from the sunroof of her car, a bird was also paused in motion. Her back pushes against the seat as she tries to understand what the actual hell was going on.

Were the avengers here? Am I dead? Is there a God? WHat tHE heLL iS HaPpEning??

Her fingers slowly massage her temples, trying to calm herself down and understand what was happening, “There is a perfectly logical explanation…” She bites her fingernails. “Why would the world just stop?” She plops her head down between her shoulders, “How do you fix this?” In a way to cope with this situation, Sam begins to joke around, “Ha, it's not like I can magically tell them to start moving again-” as the words came out of her mouth the enforcer and all the cars, birds, every single object and being, started to move again.

“Just a moment.” The enforcer completes his sentence causing Sam to get shocked at the situation. I… did… that???

“Kuya uhh… No need, please. I’m fine!” She smiles at the man, “See!” She puts two thumbs up to show the man that she was a-okay.

He tries to get a word in but Sam closes the window before she could even hear it.

As she speeds away she couldn’t help but twitch at every slightest sound, it was as if she could hear people’s thoughts, their breathing, the people’s footsteps meeting the pavement and how different shoes would resonate different sounds. To get her mind off of it, she turns on the radio but it blasts too loud causing her to accidentally press the gas a little too harshly.

“Putang-in-!?” She hits the brakes as quickly as possible, upon seeing a group of people crossing the street. Her eyes make their way to look at the volume of the music.

6.

WHAT

DO

YOU

MEAN

SIX!!?

That nearly blew off her eardrums and the sound system was just at SIX? If the world doesn’t begin making any freaking sense she is gonna lose it. Just as she pushes on the gas she spots a pharmacy and decides to parallel park quickly to grab some sort of calming syrup. Something that would calm down her thoughts and just mellow her down for a bit… isn’t that just liquor? Ah, anyhow, she was going to get something to calm her nerves.

Placing the car onto a brake, she leaves swiftly and runs inside the pharmacy, “Hi, umm..” She places her hands on the counter, “Do you have anything to calm a person down, something fast acting and easy?” She jitters between her two toes.

The pharmacist smiles and looks at Sam up and down, “You mean something like liquor?” She distastefully responds.

“No, miss. Medicine.” Her voice was stern and irritated. Sam wasn’t about to deal with this woman’s jokes right now, even if she’s literally shaking with every word, looking like a druggie.

“Well we don’t think you should get some given your…” There the pharmacist was again eyeing her up and down, “...condition.”

Before Sam could respond she heard a thought, literally.

‘How embarrassing.. These kids just do drugs left and right, no care in the world.’

“I’m not a druggie!” She screams upon hearing the thought, “Shut the fuck up and give me something to calm me down!” Her scream causes the woman to fly back to the organized shelves of medicine. The mere voice erupting from Sam’s lips caused what seemed to be a localized earthquake.

Scared and confused, the woman grabs ‘calming pills’ that were purely herbal, “He-here, don’t even pay! Please! Get out!” Sam immediately grabs the box and panics, shuffling out of the pharmacy.

Gaining a few judgemental glances from the elderly people along the aisles, she storms out of the pharmacy to her car.

Just then, Rodrigo rings her up yet again through the car.

“RODRIGO PLEASE!” She grabs her flask and takes 3 herbal calming pills at once, willing to do any and everything to mask this sensation. “I AM NOT OKAY RIGHT NOW.” Quickly, she maneuvers the car back to the road, trying her hardest not to crash into something.

“I’m sorry, so sorry, Sam! It’s just because you’re up after 2 more…” Rodrigo’s nervous voice panicked at both Sam’s angry voice and her thesis defence.

She ends the call, rather than continuing the conversation. Whatever was happening was much more important than this fucking thesis.

Her eyes finally adjusted and cleared back up, making a U-turn back towards her house.

->

Mr. And Mrs. De la Hoya weren’t expecting anything major to happen this day. With his upcoming announcement to run for president, he was too focused on the paperwork.

So they definitely didn’t expect their daughter to barge through the house, panicking and in tears.

“Kuya! Ate! Help me please!” Sam supports herself onto the nearby long table by the foyer. Trembling, Shaky, panicky and terrified. “Please!” Her abrupt tone made Thea and Nando rush to her side, as well as the other household maids.

They rushfully supported her, bringing her to the living room. Causing her parents to follow and observe the situation that was unfolding. Not out of care for her but rather for themselves.

“What’s wrong Miss Sam? Can you breathe properly?” Lily, another housekeeper, grabs a cold pack of ice placing it on Sam’s forehead.

She couldn’t understand why but the sensation of the ice made her forehead twinge and made her scream at a guttaral level. “STOP!”

Her voice, causing the numerous people surrounding her to fly to the opposite sides of the room. The couch she was on slid as well to the far end of the living room.

Francisco and Kristina were taken aback, covering their faces with their arms at Sam’s ridiculous gesture. Fearing the worst, they were worried that the vaccines she has been receiving were no longer working. Or someone chose to keep her from the dosage.

Some of the housekeepers were injured slightly, refusing to stand up. But older maids like Thea, rushed to Sam– still a bit cautious.

“Sampaguita!” It seemed like a miracle for her father to call her name out like that. Like it has never been an action anyone in the household was used to.

Her father’s voice made her trembling calm down, a mix of confusion and fear across her face. “Did you give her the dosage!?” He directs his questioning towards Thea.

“I-I did!” Thea nearly breaks into tears from the demanding voice of Francisco. Unfortunately, he did not believe a single word that came from her mouth.

“Marites, get Sampaguita’s medical basin!” He orders another maid, who rushfully heads up the stairs. His gaze never leaving Thea who was trembling by Sam’s feet.

“Father, don't punish Thea! She gave me the vaccine!” Sam protests, her voice causes another, milder rumble to boom through the house.

He shushes her by narrowing his eyes to her direction.

Marites held in hand a vaccine that had most of its remains in. Causing Francisco to shake his head, gently walking towards Thea before smacking her face with his backhand.

“FATHER!” Sam defends the old maid by standing between her and her father. “So I don’t get the vaccine today, why punish Miss Thea?”

Francisco shakes his head as he looks down to his daughter, “It’s more complicated than just that, Sam.”

She wasn’t interested in banter but rather just getting to the bottom of all this. Why she was exhibiting such abilities, why Thea missing a vaccine was so threatening and why this has been the most conversation her and her father have had.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

The room fell silent. Nobody was willing to say another word. If Sampaguita found out that she was being medically and physically abused all throughout her life; they would be facing several issues.

Her disappointment, her pain, her fury and her powers. What exactly were they and how would they impact all of them?

“You might want to sit down…”

#marvel imagines #marvel oc #oc!female #original character #original content #oc fandom #oc fanfiction #filipino #filipina #philippines #f!reader #oc!reader #marvel fanfiction #mutant!reader #new mutants #fictional mutants

[romance-of-three-memes]

I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with reading wikipedia, especially in cases where there aren't a ton of resources to learn about certain subjects in a language you understand. I know how hard it can be to do research on the 3k era if you don't know Chinese, even in our modern age of information. And of course, Chinese is particularly difficult to learn for native speakers of most, if not all European languages because it's so radically different.

However, I DO think we need to better broadcast the idea that not only is wikipedia not always correct, but it is often very biased and gate-kept by the people who write and contribute to articles about particular subjects. I hardly ever hear anyone talk about that and it worries me even more than things just straight up being inaccurate specifically *because* no one ever talks about it. I saw a post with thousands of notes going around saying wikipedia is unbiased and it just. Yeah. It often isn't.

My best advice would be to check sources if you can (although I know for 3k related stuff the references are often in untranslated Chinese, and even if you do put them in a translation app, you'll often get something inaccurate or at least a lot of the nuance will be lost). Try to consider how information is being framed, who's framing it, and what they could potentially gain from framing it that way (that's a good tip for media literacy as well). If sources are older, usually I go by 10 or 20 year intervals, perhaps look to see if there's anything more modern that may better reflect our current understanding of the subject.

For example, the first full translation of ro3k into English was published in 1925. The translator deserves kudos for being the first, but there have been multiple translations completed since then that are much truer to the source material, and some that have addendums or foot notes that explain things that would normally be lost on most western audiences that are important to understanding the text.

Basically 'go ahead and read wikipedia but read it very, very critically, and try to diversify the sources you get your info from if possible'. There's a growing movement to make academic and otherwise informative literature more readily available both to the general public and to other researchers, because traditionally academic publishers often charge out the nose for the honor of getting to read a single paper, sometimes only giving you access to it for 24 hours or 7 days unless you pay extra. Websites like researchgate, refseek, and the Internet Archive are some of my favorites. Internet Archive's side-project Open Library and Project Gutenberg also have tons of free ebooks, often for books that would otherwise be difficult to find or expensive to purchase. Your local library also often has resources for doing research.

#misc

[sweetsweetloverlover]

since one of my posts has just hit 3k notes even though i posted it less than 24 hours ago and ive had to see some of the most insufferable people of all time interact with me id like to remind anyone whod want to follow me that i literally do not like you and also go away <3

#txt

[farrel-raditya]

I. Introduction. Hello lovely souls. In the name of Farrel Raditya, I will provide you so much affection that wrapped in warmth with cuddles and kisses. Brief information would be nice for us to get to know closer, isn’t it?

Based on my love language, I often pour my loves into words. I am delighted to deliver it alongside with the fact that I like to spend my time only for two of us. No doubt that I am a well convo-builder thus I have lots of topics and sweet words for we to talk during our days and night.

I often gets clingy too. But beside that, I’m ready to pamper you whenever you need me. Mind to hear those fancy words that dive in straight into your ears while we cling into each other?

Along with my love languages, my eyes and ears has been caught with Indonesian old songs (2010s), 5SOS, NIKI, Keshi, Troye, Selena Gomez also Korean Girl Groups such as aespa, ITZY, IVE, Twice and many more. I often listen to ATEEZ and Seventeen too. Do not worry, I am a casual listener of many groups that I didn’t mention before.

A little more information I am already in my legal age (20+) and He/Him as my pronouns. Also, ISFJ for my MBTI or very known as defender which I would protect my dedicated and loved one.

I’ll go with Song Mingi as main muse with the additional ATEEZ’s members, Seventeen’s Wonwoo, NCT’s Jaemin, ENHYPEN’s Jay as my other face claims.

Prove it now, mayhaps?

II. Regulations.

1. Working hours 9.00 - 21.00

(Please note that I may not be able to accompany you 24 hours straight, but I will make sure to replying under 15 minutes.)

2. Only available on Twitter and Telegram for BA/CA/FA/RP.

3. Maximal 2 slots/day in each platform.

4. Available for BxB and BxG (soft dominant)

5. Available rent for Boyfriend / Best Friend / Brother.

6. OTP and VN are not available for now.

7. Flexible in Bahasa or English for imagine.

8. I only provide SFW imagine.

9. Maximal rent 1 week.

10. Respecting each other's privacy and personal life. Please do your know limit.

11. Testimonials after session is a must.

III. Package.

Hourly: 5k/hour.

Include all free services.

Regular: 8k/day.

Include all free services.

Maximal 2 clients in a day in each platforms.

VIP: 15k/day.

Include all free services, spotify session or plato date.

Only 1 client on each platforms.

VVIP: 23k/day.

Include all free services, spotify session or plato date, PDA, flexible working hour until 23.00

Only 1 client on all platforms.

Best Friend or Brother: 6k/day.

Include all free services.

*Free Services

• Request Pet Name.

• Request Typing.

• Request Personality.

IV. Additional Request.

Stay up late: 3k/hour. (max. until 1 AM)

Spotify session: 3k/hour.

Movie date: 5k/film.

Plato date: 5k/hour.

PDA: 5k/day.

Food date: Bills on cust.

Layout couple: Bills on cust.

Other date: Discuss it first.

V. Form

Name:

Username:

Platform: Twitter/Telegram.

Account type: BA/CA/FA/RP.

Relationship type:

Face claim:

Request typing:

Pet name:

Package:

Date start-end:

Additional request:

A little bit about yourself:

Do:

Don't:

For testimonials, you can found and check it here 🔗 https://padlet.com/FarrelRaditya/lovemessage