#but thats. way less smooth

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

i Do Not speak english as a first language swag

#tell me will #is either of these a parseable word hgkjghjg #i dont think this is an adjective we're meant to make #but the grammar seems to work right? #or maybe completely not #im afraid that what you need to do here is make it like 'with nine lives' #but thats. way less smooth #thats the french way no offense to the french but that bugs me in french and english often doesnt need it

[astro-inthestars]

YOOOOOOO WE FUCKIN DID IT!!!! YEAHHH!! We slayed SOOO well!! EVERYONE DID!! The other sections were SO FUCKING GOOD i LOVED it!!! And like, we won first place or whatever i didnt care about that really BUT WE ALL DID GREAT!

Anyways, just got home from my pal's birthday party (more like Hang Out at the mall, we ate out) it was AWESOME! First time inside a Starbucks, and first order ALL ON MY OWN! (HELL YEAH RELIGIOUS REBELLION!!)

#rennikorambles #i dont actually KNOW if its rebellion since. i ordered java chip frappucino... and i dunno if that has coffee or anythin- #BUT EITHER WAY im so glad my first time inside a starbucks is with friends <333 #i lost ALL my money <33333 #worth it #i was SO jumpy and excited the whole damn time. just shows how hyped i am around my friends <3 i love those idiots so much #after eating at pizza hut we went to an arcade and I got TWO keychain plushies from the claw machines (SLAY) #one of them i gave as a bday gift to my pal LMAO the other i kept <33 a little wolfy!!! #and then after that they went to starbucks and YEAHHH it was so fun #and then we went to the department store and immediately went to the toy section (which includes games like video games on the ps4/5 etc) #those idiots got One Piece playing cards. nerdddss <33 (me staring longingly at Persona 5 Royal on PS4 for a discounted price. help) #(I CANT GET IT IM NOT A GAMER IM BAD AT GAMES AND AND) #anyways #as for the musical MAN im just so proud. in my opinion the other's did WAY better than our section in terms of song and choreography #but the only one-up we had on them was the fact ours flowed so smoothly with nearly no mistakes #they kept having long pauses when transitioning to the next scene‚ whilst we specifically focused and practiced smooth transitions #thats probably why we had less time for dance choreo and stuff... but either way!!! just SO proud it made my theater heart so happy #and! i learned something about the actual story of El Fili! mAN ITS SO TRAGIC WTF MAN.... MANNNNNN. BRUH... #anyway <333 ALIVE NOW!!! FREE!!!

[capaldiera]

it was so not the point of mash and would have been jarring tbh but like rn i'm wishing father mulcahy had actually talked about religion in more than just little quips. girl what are your thoughts and what things do you like to focus on. btw

#thinking abiut this rn because i was wondering if theres any particular saints he likes but i think it was kicked off by when i was thinkin #g earlier today about. well i was thinking about heroes again. specifically about the men he grew up around and didnt want to be like and t #he places he looked to for the kind of man he did want to be (reading plato; what he saw of gentleman joe cavanaugh) #and i was thinking about the ways he differed from the other kids (who bullied him) and the kind of kid his dad wanted him to be (to me the #subtext in emphasising how much he used to sit inside reading directly before talking about going to the match with his dad is that his dad #kind of dragged him along and wanted him to be into boxing instead) #and so i was thinking about all that and in listing the plato thing and the boxing match thing. i thought about jesus and how like the chr #istian bible descibes him as gentle and kind and patient and whatnot. and how he fits into that list and like obviously one assumes he is a #role model for mulcahy. lol. but the show doesnt really go there bc thats just not the tone its not what the show is #(not complaining about that it would most likely be done sooo obnoxiously and like its literally not what i want to see on tv) #and then i was wondering about when his religion became really important for him. like given what he seems to feel about his family #and how much he doesnt talk about them. i would assume its a connection he more or less found/established as independent from them #which leads me to think of it as either something he got into later or something which was a refuge for him as a kid. #and like ive thought before about how the things he mentions in heroes Dont have to do with catholicism. and maybe thats just bc it wasn't #part of the story. or maybe its because he just wasnt really looking there for guidance and hope at that point #anyway i dont have answers to any of these questions i was simply turning them over in my head like smooth pebbles in my mouth #me.txt #mashposting #oh i got soo distracted here but ALSO the reason i was thinking about it when i made thsi post is bc i was wondering what stained glass he #likes Lol #for potential use in a joke post i might make

[doctorwhoisadhd]

fucking fascinated with the way mitski just straight up DOESNT follow a rhyme scheme in just about any one of her songs i can think of (and even when she does it's only barely, aka only for part of a song or only rhyming using slant or identical rhymes) and yet she is known for her lyrics being fucking insanely good

#ari opinion hour #literally so much fucking respect for her #francis forever + strawberry blonde + washing machine heart are closest to having actual real rhyme schemes #(& the former 2 have the closest thing to a Song's rhyme scheme. like specifically a rhyme scheme thats structured the way a SONG'S would b #but they still highkey do not follow the rules that even other atypically structured modern vernacular songs follow #(vernacular music is what musicologists call traditional / pop / folk music. its the everyday stuff / the opposite of art music (classical) #ive looked at most of her most popular songs / the ones that people love the lyrics of and like #nobody first love late spring me and my husband i bet on losing dogs a pearl liquid smooth i want you last words of a shooting star pink in #the night a burning hill townie texas reznikoff your best american girl + the 3 i already said #LITERALLY NOT A SINGLE ONE OF THEM HAS A TYPICALLY STRUCTURED RHYME SCHEME FOR VERNACULAR MUSIC #heres the rhyme scheme for francis forever: ABCB'/DD*D*D/ED'FG/DD*D*D/HID*D (' = slant rhyme * = identical rhyme) #here's strawberry blonde: ABCC' / AA'CC' / D / EE'CF*F*C' / DDC''HH'C''' (x3) / II (more apostrophes = different slants) #WHEREAS BY CONTRAST here's dancing queen by abba which has an ACTUALLY typical structure for a rhyme scheme in vernacular music: #AA’BB / CCDD / EEE’ / FF / BBBB / AA’BB / GGH / FF / BBBB / AA’BB / B (postchorus verse prechorus chorus coda) #ALSO to compare: yesterday (the beatles): A*AAA* / B*BBB* / CCADDA* / A*AAA* / CCADDA* / A*AAA* (just verse + chorus) #stacys mom: A*A*A*A* / BBCC / DD / A*ADDAA / A*A* / AAEE / DD / A*ADDAA / A*ADDA AADDAA (intro verse prechorus chorus coda) #see WAY LESS COMPLICATED. and WAY more repeated letters!!

[tears-of-amber]

Hearth & Home Witchcraft That I've Learned

One of the biggest things that stands out to me when reading about hearth & home witchery is that everyday items are considered magical. Everyday moments, tasks, and chores as well. Its a beautiful way to live, if you really think about it. Big rituals are great, but as someone who is disabled, they rarely are doable. Here is a list of Hearth & Home Witchcraft Tips that i actually practice.

-Enchant a blanket by embroidering a sigil in the corner and using its color correspondences for your needs. It also helps me feel shielded from negative energy during meditation.

-Play music that makes you feel safe and AT HOME. This is almost like grounding, but also can be cleansing to the environment and especially the listeners. For me, its smooth jazz. The chill sound of the standup bass and the wandering piano notes that always seem to find their way to a comfortable key... its soothing to my soul.

-Talk to and about your home (kindly). So often its easy to complain about your living space. How you wish it looked or functioned differently. The house (in my belief) hears you. Treat it with kindness and gratitude for the shelter it provides. I say thank you to the house spirits and my home every morning.

-Find a convenient home protection ritual to do each month. I say convenient because if you overcomplicate things you'll feel less enthusiastic and less motivated to do it, and might even skip several months.

-Make a home cleansing spray using essential oils mixed with an appropriate amount of moon water. I like using a few drops of lemon, rosemary, lavender, and cinnamon. DO NOT spray this in the vicinity of your pets. I only use this spray in rooms where there arent any animals, to avoid complications with their health.

-Wash your bedding as often as you can and say a short incantation before you put it in the wash. It could go something like this. "I cleanse this bedding of all negative energy, from bad dreams, and from and all stress." Sleep is so important to your sense of safety and wellbeing at home.

-Open the damn windows when you can! Stagnant energy is known for dragging down people's moods. And there's nothing quite as uplifting as fresh air. This provides a healthy flow to your house's energy.

-Don't bring things in your home unless you want to incorporate their energy into your environment. This is something that's often overlooked. I especially advise heavy consideration when it comes to thrifting items and bringing them home. Try practicing sensing the energy of items so you can easily tell whats good to bring home and whats not. Thrifting is great! Im not discouraging it btw.

-Fresh flowers work miracles. Not only do they aesthetically brighten the room, but their correspondences and magical properties apply to the room that they're in. Sunflowers are a great example of a flower that encourages positivity, and are extremely affordable to get lots of them. Roses are a bit more expensive usually, but they invite that loving vibe. And African irises are great for psychic enhancement.

Thats all for this post! Reblog it if you found it helpful, or have any of your own cool practices for hearth & home witchcraft to share!

#witchcraft #witchblr #witchy #witch #hearth witch #spirituality #pagan #paganism #hearth magic #hearth and home #home witchcraft #simple witch tips #witchy vibes #witch tips #baby witches

[zaynesaurora]

ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to dry humping — (MDNI)

a/n: yowhza this made me have to get up and walk a lap, i struggled with caleb so hes demoted to bonus boy again srwy bout that :(theres a new bonus boy though,, i may have been swayed by recent events.

zayne ! sets a lazy pace, almost lack luster as he perches you on top of him in the confindes of his office during a particularly quiet dinner break- big hands tucked under the hem of your shirt so he can tickle at your skin until it begins to burn from the delicate friction, a skilled tongue dipping into your mouth in the same less than hurried attitude his hands are showing.

he would stop your hands as they journey towards the zip hiding his hardening self from you, cool fingers engulfing your own as he forces you to hold on to his belt buckle for the remainder of your ride.

"too risky my dear, im on the clock"

he cant silence the squeaks of his desk chair as he meets his end. leather groaning in effort when his hips chase you into the air above, eyes rolling to the base of his skull in the most beautiful display of bliss. he buttons his lab coat up before leaving his office. stains of your love hidden behind the stark white.

xavier ! always wears light coloured briefs incase his moment arises, loving the way the material becomes sheer as he leaks with excitement- load after load decorating the cotton in puddles as he ruts into you.

"hmph- so messy" he's babbling in your ear between heavy puffs of air from his nostrils.

xavier likes it when you play hard to get in this particular scenario. when your belly down on the bed, scrolling your phone and barely taking any notice of his manhood smoothing over the hills of your backside. he gets lost in his own fantasy- perverted nature making itself known in the way he wraps his body around you, hands tucking below your chest and thighs squeezing your own into a tight line. he keeps going, going until he can barely hold himself up and his weight becomes invasive when he's lay on your back in exhaustion.

when he eventually pulls away, a stringy mess connects the pair of you, another outfit christened by a make out session gone too far.

rafayel ! thinks he has control of every sexual situation ever. outright laughs in your face as he mocks your whimpers- deliberately pulling his hand away from the delicate lace covering you just as the warmth in your belly makes itself known. his teeth are bumping yours with every taunt, chests squishing with every snicker. until you grab him through his boxers, deciding to give him a taste of his own medicine.

"hmm scandalous, naugh-" words caught in his throat when you tug him harder than before.

its no secret rafayel is competative , and usually sulky when you try to overpower him but he can't help but give in when you everwhelm his senses in so many ways- need for release growing with every passing moment. he's certainly well behaved when you form an o-shape with your fist, instructing him to use your hand like a toy through his pants. pretty noises being rewarded with a quick tightening.

— bonus —

caleb ! does that thing boyfriends do when they pretend to be hitting it from behind when you bend over for any reason, except this time his make believe thrusts get a little too close and before you know it he has his palm flat to your back , pushing you into the countertop so he can keep you in place and indulge in the feeling of his loose sweats rubbing on his bare junk- lucky for him he's known for being commando in the comfort of his own home and the material is swallowing his tip in a way that feels so right.

"thats it baby, jus- a little more"

jeremiah ! blooms into a mix of pinks and reds as the colour works its way up his chest and into his cheeks- timidly meeting your eyes before snapping them shut in avoidance. you can hear the unsteady rythm in his ribs, you can see the resolve slipping in the vice like grip he has on the sheets he's sprawled on- if they were living he would be drawing blood by now and his hips spring forward everytime your underwear meets his. even when the pressures almost none existent.

"calm down sweetheart, you can do it"

#myths— #love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #l&ds #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader #lads smut #lads x reader #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #love and deepspace zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #xavier smut #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #love and deepspace xavier #xavier x reader #love and deepspace rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #lads rafayel #caleb love and deepspace #lads caleb #l&ds rafayel #l&ds caleb #lads jeremiah #l&ds jeremiah #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace jeremiah

[wileys-russo]

https://youtu.be/Mh4f9AYRCZY?si=L-uta8a3X3S_gyLj

Another instalment of Mearps and Delilah… based on this video, where Delilah walks in whilst Mearps is doing an interview and you have to do the rescue mission!

part of the a date to remember universe series

interruptions II m.earps

"mummy!" you looked up at the small voice and the patter of feet as there was a flash of dirty blonde and your daughter came flying around the corner crashing into your legs.

"whats up babe?" you chuckled at her eagerness, running a hand through her hair with a smile. "wheres mama?" she sighed, hugging your legs tightly. "she's in a meeting lilah, she's at work." you grabbed beneath her arms and hoisted her up onto your hip.

"no!" delilah shook her head firmly, pointing to the office where your wife had been shacked up most of the day. "not at work!" delilah huffed, her eyebrows furrowed into an angry frown.

"no caterpillars." you teased as you smoothed out her eyebrows with your fingers, watching in amusement as she frowned them together once again. "mama isn't at work baby but she's doing work." you tried to explain, sitting her on the counter.

"i hate work." delilahs frown deepened as you smiled sadly, pulling her into a hug. "baby but work is important to mama. you like watching mama play football yeah?" you asked feeling her nod into your shoulder, her tiny hands balling your shirt into her fists.

"well thats part of mamas work!" you reminded, your daughter pulling her head away and looking at you with an odd look making you chuckle. "she's playing football?" delilah questioned looking away toward the office.

"no lilah but she's talking about football to some people, thats also mamas work." your daughter still seemed a little lost but nodded and appeared a little less distressed.

"how about we read a book and have a snack, then you'll have a little sleep and when you wake up mama will be done with work?" you suggested, heart melting at the way the almost four year olds eyes lit up.

"can i sleep in your bed?" the girl grinned, batting her eyelashes as her hands grabbed the back of her neck. "what's wrong with your bed!" you laughed shaking your head. "yours and mamas is huge!" she exclaimed throwing her hands up.

"maybe. now go pick a book!" you smiled, gently placing her back on her feet. with a shake of your head you turned to rummage through the fridge, listening to the thunder of small feet as your daughter sprinted off to her room.

though when you'd finished making her a snack and she hadn't yet returned, alarm bells raised slightly in the back of your head as you left the kitchen to check on her.

the first thing you noticed was that marys office door was open, though you knew she had media commitments and meetings until four. the next thing you noticed was the tiny body hovering in the doorway, one foot in the room and one foot out, hesitating as she knew she would be doing the wrong thing.

"delilah grace earps, no." you whispered in her direction, shaking your head as her eyes darted to meet yours. "lilah, no." you spoke more firmly this time, though the moment you took one step toward her she was inside the office and you swore.

mary hadn't clocked the door opening, or the hushed whispers of her wife trying to coax her daughter away from her office, but it would appear whomever was interviewing her had.

"well look obviously i've been in discussions with them for months now about the next steps and-" "mary i'm so sorry to interrupt but it would appear you've got a visitor."

"hi mama!" mary jolted at the voice and her eyes widened, delilah clinging to her leg with a wolfish grin. "lilah mama's working, outside please." mary nodded toward the door with a somewhat forced smile, well aware this was being recorded and streamed live.

"no more work. i hate work!" her daughter huffed, smacking her leg as you stumbled into the room, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights seeing your wife was live.

"delilah, go to mummy please." mary murmured, gently pushing the girl away with her hand who scowled and shook her head, clinging right back to marys leg. "im so sorry give me just two seconds." the goalkeeper apologized to the interviewer who looked more amused than annoyed.

your wifes eyes met your own with a warning look as you nodded, rushing over to grab your daughter who moved to hide under marys desk, causing you to drop to your knees and crawl after her as mary hid her face in her hand with a sigh.

"come here." you warned seriously and at the shift in tone delilah took your outstretched hand, allowing you to pull her into your arms as you stood from the floor. however miscalculating the distance you caught your head on the corner of the desk with a loud thump as mary mumbled under her breath and you winced, hurrying out of the room.

"sorry mummy." delilah tried with her very best puppy dog eyes as she clung onto you and you pulled marys office door shut. "delilah grace-" you started to tell her off once you were out of earshot of the office but at the way your daughters bottom lip wobbled you broke with a sigh.

"lilah." you moved into her bedroom and sat her on the edge of her bed, squatting down so you were eye to eye with her.

"what you just did was very wrong okay? i know you miss mama but when she's working we have to leave her be so she can do her work, the more we interrupt her the longer she has to work." you tried to explain, your resolve wavering as your daughter sniffled.

"but i love mama, just wanted to see her."

"oh baby i know you do, and mama knows you do too. now no one loves mama like you do but lots of people love mama in their own way so sometimes we have to share her with them when she's doing her work." you explained firmly though not unkindly as your finger reached out to wipe away the few tears pooling in the corner of her eye.

"but the best part is that she will always come back okay? and she will always love you more than anyone in the whole wide world." you tickled her gently as she let out a small giggle and your face softened. "more than you?" your daughter asked with wide eyes.

"sometimes!" you both turned to look at mary who was standing in the doorway. you watched your daughters small internal struggle, clearly wanting to go to mary but knowing she was in trouble.

"come here lilah, i'm not mad at you." mary knelt down and opened her arms, the girl racing into them and almost tackling the keeper to the ground. "oh your hugs are magical." mary sighed, squeezing her tightly as your daughter giggled.

"sorry mama." the girl mumbled into her shoulder as mary rubbed her back. "its okay baby i know you are, but next time when the door is closed it means mama is busy, okay?" your daughter nodded in understanding.

"i have a little break from work for now, how about we read a book before your sleep? then when you wake up you me and mummy can go out for dinner. hows that sound?" mary offered, delilahs face lighting up as she nodded excitedly making you both laugh.

mary telling her to pick a book she moved over to the case in the corner as both you and your wife stood. "do you want something to eat?" you asked quietly, the taller girl wrapping you in a tight hug with a nod and a sweet kiss pressed to your lips.

"yes please love."

~

"well she's down for the count, and snoring just like her mummy!" you looked up from the counter with a playful glare as mary entered with a smug smile. "hilarious. need i remind that theres a reason you get roomed alone when you're away for games, tournaments and camp?" you quirked an eyebrow.

"don't be mean now my love." mary grinned moving closer. "she's not the only one who missed you though, big day. you look exhausted baby." you admitted with a frown, marys eyes softening as you fondly kissed her jaw.

"last one for awhile though, few more games and then we're off on holiday just the three of us for two whole weeks." mary reminded of your plans for the upcoming international break, your wife opting to miss national duty in favour of going away for delilahs fourth birthday.

"i can't wait and neither can lilah. i'm sorry about before though, i took my eye off her for a minute and thats all it took." you sighed, sliding the sandwich over to your wife who chuckled, moving to press her body into yours with a thank you for the food.

"how's your head?" mary asked, half in amusement and half in genuine concern as she gently grabbed your face tilting your head from side to side. "fine. my dignity though? long gone." you sighed with a pout which mary wasted no time kissing away.

"i hope you know thats going to go viral, i'm talking worse than the world cup fuck off." your wife mumbled against your lips, her hands gripping your hips as the counter dug a little into your back and your arms wrapped around her neck.

"oh god don't remind me, i've not even looked at my phone yet but its been going crazy for the last half an hour." you pulled away with a groan, burying your face in your wifes chest and feeling her body vibrate with laughter as she held you tightly.

"well my last meetings not for another...twenty five minutes. delilah's down, we have the house to ourselves?" you pulled your head away and met your wifes suggestive smile, feeling her hands start to gently creep from your hips toward your bum.

"i think i can make do with twenty, gives you five to freshen up."

#mary earps x reader #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #mary earps #woso imagine #woso blurbs #engwnt #woso community

[redr0sewrites]

First Time...

filthy filthy filthy thoughts i can't get out of my head so here they are

🥀Cw: smut, dom!lute, fem!reader, praise, oral sex, body worship, scissoring, established relationship

🥀Pairing(s): Lute x fem!reader

🥀minors dni

"lute..." you gasped as your back hit the wall, her athletic stature pinning you. you can still hear the party music humming in the background as lute held you against the wall of your shared bedroom. throughout the entire party you had both hosted you'd been forced to be separate from eachother as you dealt with guests. lingering touches and meaningful looks were all you had seen of your girlfriend all night, yet it seemed the tension had come to boiling point.

you're face flushes as your eyes met her amber ones, she was so close you could feel the heat from her body enveloping you. a soft, electric tug in your core ignites like a flame as lute took another step forward. "are you sure..." you whisper, careful not to break the boiling tension between you two. "i've never been with a woman before, i'm probably not very good...." lute scoffed, leaning in so tantalizingly close. your eyes trailed down to her soft lips, mesmerized by the smooth planes of her pale face. her brow quirks in amusement when she notices you staring and you can feel even more heat travel to your face. lute leans in, so close that you can feel her breath tickle your neck. she's electric, practically humming with lust and tension.

you can feel your own arousal soaking your panties, and while you would normally be embarrassed about getting so aroused from such simple movements, this was no normal situation. lute whispers in your ear, each syllable so seductive and sinful that your stomach tightens. "you truly think i care about that, doll?" lute purrs, her hands slowly coming to rest on your hips. "unless you don't want too..." her tone is sultry, almost pleading as she looks into your eyes for confirmation. your throat seems to clamp up, your senses buzzing with her scent, her touch, fuck, you could barely imagine how she would taste.

"lute... kiss me, please," you plead, grabbing her collar and pulling her impossibly closer. her body flushes against yours and your chests collide as her knee slips between your legs. you let out a small whine as your sensitive breasts rub against hers, and she smirks. lute's kisses are like a storm, wild and wonderful and seductive in an alluring of lust and emotion. her hand travels up from your hips to hold your face as her plush lips capture yours, her tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasp.

"you're so beautiful," lute murmurs, her soft lips swallowing yours while she held your jaw in a firm grip. her thigh presses against the aching heat between your legs and you grind down instinctively as lust blurs your senses. a strained moan slips past your lips and lute gives your hips an appreciative squeeze while her skilled tongue explored your mouth. lute had kissed you before, she had memorized everything about you and every way to pleasure you, and was sure that you weren't a virgin. yet, you were so tentative about not being able to please her. she intended on showing you just how much she truly desired you.

suddenly, lute pulls away, a warmth flushing her cheeks as she admires you. her gaze pauses on your kiss-bruised lips, and then travels to your flushed cheeks and needy expression. "how the tables have turned," you chuckle, and she rolls her eyes affectionately. "bed?" the question is seemingly simple, yet you know she's offering you another way out. you could refuse, you could always deny her, and yet why would you? throughout your entire relationship, she always gave you the opportunity to say "no", from your first kiss to now, your first time. the act of respect only made you want to say yes even more. "bed," you agree, and she smirks. "thats my girl". like an animal unleashed, her lips capture yours again, yet this time she holds less restraint. one of lute's hands tangles in your hair, the other groping your ass as she pulls you over to the bed. a stifled whimper is swallowed by her lips when you both crash onto the mattress, your kiss a heated mess of teeth and tongue as she easily dominates you. lute moves to straddle you, her thighs caging you in as one of her hands cups your cheek. she doesn't pull away from the kiss as she slowly begins to toy with the hem of your shirt.

"can i take this off?" lute rasps, her lips just barely ghosting yours as a thin trail of spit connects you both. you nod eagerly, too needy for words as she peels your top off of you. a few beats of silence follow as lute stares at you in shock, and now it's your turn to smirk. "do you like it? i picked it out just for you. don't think you're the only one who was looking for something more tonight..." lute stares at the lacy lingerie, mesmerized by the way your breasts almsot spilled out of the thin white fabric. you looked like a goddess, and the erotic clothing accentuated your features and left little to the imagination. "i fucking love it," she groans, tugging down your waistline to reveal a matching set of lacy panties. "fuck", she cursed, her hands ghosting over your sides, unsure of where to touch first. "you're so gorgeous baby. so good f'me". lute's hands settle on your hips, rubbing soothing circles onto your flushed skin, slow and teasing as she kisses you again.

her lips trail down to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses as she moves towards your neck. you gasp as her lips graze over a sensitive spot, and she pauses, her warm breath against your neck was downright intoxicating. the sensation made your cunt throb as your thighs squeeze together, longing for stimulation. lute continues her assault on your neck, sucking a deep hickey just below your pulse point. you whine, throwing your head back to give her better access. she continues down to your collarbone, sucking another hickey, this one rougher and darker. you gasp, squirming slightly while she presses a gentle kiss over the forming bruise. her lips trail even lower between the valley of your breasts, and she nips at the soft flesh. you whimper as her hands trail up your sides, coming to rest over your tits as she gently gropes the sensitive skin. she pinches your hardened nipple through the fabric and you mewl, your back arching off the bed. with a skillful hand, lute reaches behind your back and unclips your bra, removing it in seconds as you squirm beneath her.

"fuck, thats so hot," you whine as she tosses your bra aside. lute doesn't reply, letting her actions speak for themselves. she nips at your soft skin, her mouth latching onto your nipple and sucking while her free hand plays with your other breast. her teeth graze the sensitive bud, her tongue swirling over your chest as you writhe from pleasure. she continues to grope at the other breast, giving it equal attention as she pinches your hardened nipple. the ache in your cunt was growing unbearable as you struggled to keep your composure, but you couldn't help but buck your hips up against hers. your thighs were clenching as your clit throbbed, desperate for any attention, yet it wasn't enough. "lute.." you whisper her name, gently pulling her head away from your chest. "please... i need you.." lute's eyes meet yours, her gaze electric and exhilarating. "aw, my angel needs me? what do you need baby?" you pout, embarrassment preventing you from saying what you wish. lute crawls up higher, her hips dragging over yours and making you gasp from the friction. with two fingers she grabs your chin, forcing you to make eye contact. "use your words, baby". you're cheeks flush at her commanding tone, and you whisper, "i want you to touch me."

"i'm already touching you baby, you're gonna have to be more specific," lute teases, her eyes dark with lust. you pout, whining as she holds you still. "you- you know what i mean!" you whimper, nearly begging her to touch you. lute chuckles and you sigh, her gaze dropping down to admire your body as she lets go of your face. "why don't you show me, hmm baby? just take my hand an' show me where," she cooed, using a childish tone as your cheeks heat. slowly, you grab her hand, trailing it lower down your body to your aching core. lute follows the movement carefully, her sharp eyes admiring every inch of your body. your underwear is soaked, and the sheer fabric gives lute a perfect view of your pussy. "you want me to touch you here?" lute meets your gaze, her long, thin fingers rubbing ever so slightly over the soaked fabric. you nod fervently, the slight stimulation making your hips buck. "stay still," she commands, her eyes not leaving yours for a second, "or i'll stop". you immediately freeze, holding your breath as she slides down to lay between your legs.

lute spreads your thighs, admiring your glistening heat through your pretty lacy panties. you can feel her breath against your inner thigh as she just stares intently. its a battle of wits, who will give in to their desires first. you tremble as her hand makes its way up your thigh, reaching your aching cunt. "you want me t' touch this pretty pussy?" lute coos, toying with you as she tugged the hem of your panties down. "yes lute- f-fuck-" you moan softly as the cold air meets your aching heat, and lute runs a finger over your folds. she trails up to your clit, slowly circling over your pearl as she played with your drooly pussy with her other hand. she spread your glistening folds, watching your cunt flutter with each circle over your clit. leaning in, she licked a stripe up your soaked cunt, and your whole body shudders at her skill. "you taste wonderful..." she purrs, her stare bearing into your soaking heat with a carnal desire. "i could just devour you."

you whimper, thighs already trembling as you struggle to stay still. your mind is fuzzy with lust, and lute teases your entrance with a finger. you were already so wet, you didn't know if you could take much more. lute's finger slips inside your heat and you gasp, the stimulation making you squirm slightly. lute pauses, letting you adjust to the slight stretch before curling her finger, watching your expression intently as she continues to play with you. soon she adds in a second finger, giving you a few seconds of preparation before she begins to curl her fingers and reach that sweet spot inside you. her other hand moves to circle your clit, your gushing pussy soaking her fingers as your thighs quiver.

"fuck babe, you're so wet," she mumbles, leaning into clean up some of the mess. her fingers thrust into your cunt as soft, sloppy noises fill the room. lute leans in to suck on your puffy clit, her tongue swirling over the needy bud as you writhe from pleasure. you can already feel the coil in your abdomen tightening as your orgasm build, and your eyes roll back as she slips in a third finger. "ff-fuck-ngh- lute 'm gonna-" your thighs clamp down around her head and she uses her free hand to spread them again.

"c'mon baby, you can cum," she whispers against your pussy, her nose nudging your clit as she licks your folds sloppily. her fingers curl deeper inside your gummy walls and your mouth opens in a silent scream as a wave of euphoria washes over you. all you can do is babble her name in between broken moans as your mind goes blissfully blank, and lute continues fucking you through your high. "thats my girl, you're doing so good f'me, c'mon," she whispers, rubbing your shaky inner thigh as you tremble and keen from pleasure. your drooly pussy gushes, squirting over your lover's face as she laps up your slick. slowly you begin to calm down, gasping for breath as lute continues to gently lick and suck at your clit. looking down at her soaked face and your dripping thighs, your eyes widen at the realization. "i didn't know you were a squirter," lute teased, licking your juices of her lips. "fuck, thats so hot", you whine, turning away as she chuckles again. "c'mon baby, lets get you all cleaned up," she coos, rising out of the bed to presumably get something to start cleaning.

"what about you?" you ask, and she turns to you. "don't worry about me darling, i'll survive," she chuckles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "your pleasure is enough for me". you pout, dissatisfied with her answer. "what kind of girlfriend would i be if you didn't even come on out first time together? 'm not tired, i can take another round," you plead, and lute's mouth twitches. "are you sure?" her eyes are wide with list, yet you can tell she's holding back, for your sake. you nod eagerly, pulling her onto the bed. you trail your hands over her wings, making her shudder as you tug on the hem of her shirt.

"may i?" lute nods, and you toss the shirt to the side. shes wearing a plain sports bra, and the top of her boxers are visible under her pants. "you're so hot" you repeat for what must bw the umpteenth time that night. you marvel at her sculpted figure, and trail your hands down her sculpted abs to her waistline. "go on," she mutters, and you giggle at her eagerness. "patience is a virtue~" you reply snarkily. you make quick work of her undergarments and bra, until your both completely bare. you can already feel wetness forming between your thighs, and from the way lute is squirming, she isn't as satisfied as she claims. you grab her smaller waist, moving her to straddle you again. her legs slot in perfectly over yours and her glossy pussy grinds against you. a soft whine slipspast her lips and you shudder at the friction.

"c'mon," you whisper, grinding upwards against her cunt. "jus' like that," your voice slurs, the soft, sloppy sounds of both of your cunts grinding together fills the room as lute clingw to you. her hips jerk with each thrust, her clit rubbing against yours as she whimpered. "f-fuck-" she gasps, hands grabbing your hips to steady herself. "fuck, 'm already close," she hisses, and you nod, too breathless for words. her needy cunt pulses, her puffy clit grinding against yours which each grind as her movements become more sporadic. you have a perfect view of her tits, watching as they bounce in time with each roll of her hips. you can feel your release building in your stomach, and lute pulls you in for a sloppy kiss. her tongue slides into your mouth with ease as she continues grinding against you, her folds fluttering as your slick mixes together.

"m' gonna-" she whines, tucking her head into the crook of your neck as her cunt spasms and she shudders. "me too baby," you gasp, rutting up against her a fee more times before your orgasm washes over you. a wave of pure euphoria swallows you up, engulfing you in a torrent of pleasure as you come fast and hard. lute moans into your ear, panting and gasping for breathas she collapses against you. you fall back against the bed, your legs tangled up with hers as you gently run your hands over her wings and back as she calms down. she nuzzles into the crook of your neck as you wrap your arms around her while you lay on your back.

"you okay?" you whisper, and she nods, pressing a kiss to your neck. "yea, fuck that was good," she mumbles, lazily tracing a finger up and down your arm. you giggle, lost in your pre-orgasmic daze and she joins you, soft laughter filling the silent room. "whats so funny?" she asks, her eyes crinkling into a soft smile as she turns to look at you. her hair is tussled, her cheeks flushed, and her lips swollen and pink. in your eyes, she's never looked more beautiful. "nothing," you whisper, leaning in to kiss her again. "i'm just so lucky to have you." lute sighs, pressing her forehead against yours, cherishing the moment together. "me too," she whispers, followed by a beat of silence. with a sigh, she moves to get up, yet you pull her back down. "five more minutes?" you whisper, and she sighs. how could she ever deny you? she curls back into your embrace, knowing damn well you both won't be getting up until tomorrow morning.

yes i just wrote 2812 words of pure lesbian smut what about it 😇

#lute x reader #lute x you #lute x y/n #lute imagine #lute smut #lute x reader smut #lute fluff #hazbin hotel lute x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x oc #wlw smut #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw nstf #lute #lute fanfiction #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lute headcanon

[kingshovelbug]

im sorry but i need to geek out somewhere and screaming into the void on tumblr is less likely to get me flayed than on twitter, especially if i get terms wrong. plus i can do a read more and yall can click into the tech talk if you want to verse it bombarding your twitter timelines

so idk if i only liked it or if i actually put it in my queue but i saw a post that talked about a few pieces of tech that focus on user repairs and being sustainable (fairphone and frameworks laptop) and after doing some more research into what they have to offer i actually really excited that these products are finely hitting the us market and that people are moving away from the belief that super smooth streamlined glassy = the future. being able to reliably repair and keep what you have alive verse throwing the whole thing away when maybe all you needed to do is add more ram to your current laptop (something that i would do with my laptop to keep using it for a few more years if it wasnt glued shut and i was at risk of cracking the screen) or swap out a fuse.

i know big corporations dont like it but i truly do believe with how much tech we use on a daily basis that the way that we are going to be more environmentally friendly is to move back to tech that we can hang onto for as long as we can and to recycle and then reuse what we cant. like with the frameworks laptop. i saw that they just partnered with coolermaster to create a case specifically so that you can reuse you motherboard, cpu, etc and make a portable workstation. you could dual wield with the laptop you just upgraded if you want to dedicate specific tasks to one or the other. they also specifically mentioned that you could screw it into the back of a monitor and create your own all in one. guys thats cool as shit??? if you had a 3d printer and some time you could even create that yourself

on top of the actual hardware part moving to open source programs when your able. when i update my desktop i plan on running linux. it might have a learning curve compared to windows but in terms of performance??? ive heard that it runs smoother even on older machines, that its more efficient because isnt running stuff in the background that tracks your data and shit. now i understand that not everyone can do that because there are some programs that dont play nice with linux but for my needs at least it does everything i would need it to. and maybe a couple years down the road we do figure out how to run these programs on certain flavors of linux since its open source and people fiddle with it so much. (still looking for alternatives to like word and excel though, i use google docs since its free but i want to move away from them as much as i can too since they laid of their youtube music team (i believe?? it might of been a different branch) for trying to unionize)

if anyone knows of any other smaller companies that actually focus on sustainability and user repairability please let me know. theres certain pieces of tech that i think are now unfortunately behind a software repair paywall, things that used to be just machines and are gaining more bells and whistles like cars and refrigerators if that makes sense. but the more we push for these things to be repairable by us the consumers id hope that would change, or there would at least be options that dont need specific companies to repair them or else they blow up

#personal

[neurodivenport]

literally need like chase nsfw alphabet so bad he is on my mind

i got u babe

@firelitsparks helped me & co-wrote a lot of this so big thank you!! ily

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's definitely great at aftercare. he cares a lot about you and is over-worried about your wellbeing constantly, so much that he may go over the top with it sometimes. towel to clean you up, water to hydrate, maybe even a cold towel so you don't overheat. constantly asking if you need anything at all. i think as the relationship goes on he gets better at knowing the specifics of what you need, going less overboard.

as for receiving… he really gets off on getting taken care of, so aftercare is hard with him because he gets so easily turned on by it. y’all are definitely gonna have to go another round.

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

i think chase’s favorite body part of yours is a tie between your boobs (if you have them) and thighs.

for boobs, he loves them no matter the size. he loves having his head between them, loves lying on them, loves having his hand under your shirt to just hold them. not even in a sexual way sometimes, just for the comfort and your warmth.

as for thighs- its similar. no matter the size, he adores being crushed by them. he’s taken lots of naps just laying his head in-between them. when you’re sitting down, he almost always has a hand on one of them.

his favorite body part of his own has to be his hands. he’s proud of how they contribute to science, how he can use them with his molecularkinesis, and how they handle his laser bo. he’s also incredibly proud of how easily they can make you come apart.

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

honestly, with how cleanly chase is, i don’t think he likes cumming anywhere but inside you. he won’t mind it on your tummy or back, but he prefers it in your mouth or inside you. he thinks the act of cumming on your face is a little too degrading and messy.

he also likes how possessive the aspect of cumming in you is. you letting him mark you on the inside really defines that you’re his and it drives him crazy.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

multiple. we all know he can record things with his bionic eye and ears and put them in a hard drive, right…? i think thats pretty self explanatory 🫢

he’s also always wanted to try pegging, and has a bit of a size kink if you’re on the smaller side. he’s been bullied his whole life about being small, having a partner thats smaller than him would stroke his ego in a way he definitely wants to play with.

…he doesn’t want to say it, but he also wants to try some roleplay with him as a scientist and you as his subject.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think when you start dating he’s not experienced at any aspect. he’s had a few people come onto him, sabrina for sure, but he’s never actually dated anyone, let alone had any sexual experience. it’s completely new to him.

however! he is a bionic genius. when your sex life starts out, i think he’s going completely by the book, searching every technical aspect he has about it in his hard drive. but it’s still flimsier, because he has to get used to the fact that everyones different. he takes the time to learn about what makes you tick.

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

chase wants to have full access to every part of you. your face, your chest, your clit/dick, so he likes positions that give him that range. missionary, front to front smoothing and cowgirl are up there. he wants to see every little reaction on your face when he takes you.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

he definitely takes it more seriously. he’s a romantic at heart, wanting to take his time to really make you feel good. if something funny happens he might crack a joke, but for the most part, he’s hyperfocused on how it feels for the both of you. the goofiest he’ll be is how lovey dovey he gets for you.

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

super well groomed. he likes it all neat and tidy down there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

chase has a hard time having sex with no romantic connection. it needs to be leveled with romance for him. intimacy is absolutely one of the pluses and what makes it so great for him. like i said before, this man is insanely lovey dovey for you, he’s the type to break out a shit ton of candles and rose petals.

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

after the two of you start dating, he rarely jerks off anymore. he can barely get off without you close by. the only time he does is when he’s away for a while on time consuming missions, and even then, he calls you just to hear you talk him through it.

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

I HAVE A WHOLE LIST HERE, but i think his top ones are absolutely voice and praise. he loves hearing you talk, saying anything, especially when you’re telling him how good he’s doing and how good he feels. he can’t count how many times he’s came just from you moaning for him.

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he is not that much of an exhibitionist. his favorite place is at home, in a bed, where he can take his time with you.

however, if he gets really fucking horny out in public, he’s down to do it at the nearest solitary environment possible. as long as no one can see you, he’s down to dick you down anywhere. y’all have definitely desecrated the lab on multiple occasions

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

literally everything you do. you touch him on the shoulder and his dick is hard.

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

nothing that will hurt you. he’s too scared to lose you or scare you off, so i really can’t see him doing something that will endanger you, mentally or physically. sorry to my degradation girlies but i don’t think he’s into giving for that 🫣

as for himself, i don’t think he’d like being bound too much. a simple hand tie is fine with him, but after being strapped down to giselle’s table, he’s not down for anything more than that.

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he loves giving. like i said, he fucking loves your thighs, and will gladly be in-between them any time and anywhere. he loves hearing you moan for him, and the knowledge that he can get you off with just his tongue sends his ego skyrocketing.

he will never say no to receiving either, but he rarely asks for it. he’s always nervous they’re doing it just for his sake. it also makes him cum faster than he’d like to admit. seeing you with his dick in your mouth is a little too much for him to handle.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends! he prefers taking his time with you for the most part, but when he gets close he tends to lose himself in you.

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he doesn’t prefer them, but they’re kind of necessary for him with his mission schedule. like i said, he prefers to take his time with you.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

he’s down to experiment with anything once, but is hesitant to try anything that might hurt you.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

…he’s bionic and trained in fighting. he can go for days. you’ve definitely never outlasted him without tapping out.

as for lasting, with you? he cums faster than he’d like to. you just drive him a little too crazy.

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

i don’t think he owned any before you, but he’s down to try them out. especially ones that could work with his magnetism app.

on the other hand, i can see him getting a little jealousy and preferring to just use what he’s got.

i can see him inventing his own toy for you to use while he’s away on missions, which was perfect, until he sees how much you enjoy it…

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

chase isn't unfair, nope, nope. he TRIES to tease you, but the very SECOND you tease him back or show your interest, he's becoming a subby mess. he can't even edge you more than maybe one time because the minute you beg him he's a bigger mess than you are.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

when you first start out, he tries to stifle his noises as much as possible for fear of embarrassment. but as soon as you tell him how much you love them, he lets them out, and he’s fucking loud.

he absolutely cannot shut up, and he’s full of just whimpers and whines. he almost sounds like he’s crying when he’s close to cumming.

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he thanks you every time its over. without fail. he’s making you cum multiple times and he’s still thanking you for letting him do it.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

…he’s big. and he has no idea. he knows the average dick size, but in his brain, he’s not that big. so when you tell him he is, he’s a blushing mess.

7 1/2 inches and thick. he has you wobbly legged and sore after.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

HIGH. when he’s around you his dick gets harder faster than you can blink. he was a megavirgin before you, now he’s just addicted to feeling you. you’re in the grossest pjs ever and he wants you. he just got back from a mission and he’s literally limping and bleeding and he’s trying to get you to sit on his face.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

not super fast. he has bionic stamina, so it takes longer for him to get rid of that adrenaline. he’s content with watching you doze off peacefully on his shoulder.

#chase davenport x reader #ns/fw #chase hcs #chase davenport smut

[toruro]

hi mika:3 i have an idea slash request (or a thot bcs i wanna here ur input wtv ur more comfy with) thats rotted my brain for like months esp since minghao hosted that expensive ass monthly meeting…. but minghao fucking you on the cold glass windows of the penthouse he paid for for a night or a few overlooking the city 👩‍💻💿

(p.s. ive been waiting to share this idea with u if u opened back up ur requests bcs i wouldnt want to lend it to any other author 😭💋)

mile high club ... ?

pairing. minghao x reader tags. smut (18+ / mdni), fluff w/c. a/n. i almost teared up reading this. i am gutted. the fact that u wanted to share this w me and ME ONLY?!>!? i love u so much :[

you should've known. should've known that your sneaky little fiance was up to something when he gave you that sweet, sweet smile and told you to put on your prettiest dress and your prettiest heels this evening. should've known he was planning on treating you to something a little bit bigger than just dinner.

you're still not sure why it came as a surprise to you when minghao took you by the hand and whisked you away from the restaurant you two had just dined in, and took you on a long drive under the cool night sky.

giggles and looks from the corner of your eyes, you noticed that minghao took you down a road which you didn't recognize as 'on the way home.'

"baby, where're we going?" you asked him lazily. the windows were ajar and the evening winds blew through his black hair as minghao focuses on the road. you grin at the sight, reminding yourself to tell him later to cut his hair less often.

smirking, hao smooths a hand over your bare thigh, caressing the skin with his thumb. "you'll see baby, you'll see."

and see, you most definitely did.

it didn't take long for him to pull up in front of one of the fanciest hotels in downtown, shushing all your questions as he excitedly helped you into the glass elevator that overlooked the city, taking you all the way up to the top floor despite your questions.

"hao, what is this about?" you attempted to ask through muffled giggles as he pressed kisses against your lips as an attempt to keep you quiet.

"just look," he muttered, pulling away so he could key in some code on the final floor. what lay behind the door was the massive layout of the hotel penthouse, large windows that showed off the glittering, buzzing lights of the city around you.

as you make your way to one of the wide glass panes, looking down and over the sight. minghao carefully follows behind as you mutter out words of thanks and praise for finding such a beautiful space ... "so pretty hao, i love it ..."

there he is now, digging his face into your neck as he wraps his arms around you from behind. lips and tongue trace over your shoulder blade as you melt into minghao's arms, head lolling to one side to make it easer for him to reach his favorite spots.

his arm snakes down between your legs, digging under the painfully high cut dress you've got on (minghao says 'painfully high cut' not because it was painful for you but because it made him so fucking hard it hurt).

you moan the second his deft fingers brush over the lacy clothe of your panties, playing with your cute 'n' sensitive clit as your legs begin to lose their stability. and fuck, minghao hadn't even had the chance to slip his tie off before you press your ass over his clothed cock, murmuring about how you gotta have him right now ...

"gotta prep you first baby ..." he tries to mutter in your ear, words drying on his tongue when you press behind and into his crotch harder.

"wan' it now," you whimper, one hand falling forward to press against the cool glass of the windows, the other reaching back to latch onto minghao's and play with the hair at the nape of his neck. so hot and sticky, minghao pressing your head forwards so your cheek's against the glass, hot air blowing steam on the windows ...

clanking of belts and popping of buttons as he quickly shoves his pants down, weeping cock springing out and hitting your ass over your dress ... fuck, your dress. you just look so pretty with your back arching upon his touch, short cloth running higher up your thighs until he can see the peek of your lacy white panties.

minghao just can't hold himself back, the way you call for him so prettily and so he's shoving your dress up 'n' over your ass, scooping one finger through the fabric of your panties so he can yank them to the side ... his cock's leaking all over you by now, precum smearing over the plush skin of your ass.

and with heavy breaths rumbling in his throat, high and breathy whines slipping from yours, minghao slips his throbbing cock into the fluttering walls of your cunt ... hugging hao's fat length so nicely his fingers might burn bruises into your hip from holding too tight (lip sucked between his teeth as he chokes back moans).

his thrusts start quick, each one dragging out of your warm folds slowly before ramming back into you in one go. your body lurches against the window, has pressed against the smooth surface as you try to hold on, try not to lose yourself to the way hao's fucking the life out of you over the city ...

feels so good, and you can't help the way you whimper whenever his skin slaps against yours, firm grip pulling you back into his hips for an other jostling thrust ... "feels s'good baby," hao rasps from behind you, leaning forward to press his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in you scent and watching the view from next to you.

the scene's so pretty and you're moaning his name so cutely when he pounds into you from behind, throttling with every snap of his hips ... tits pressed into the glass as he snakes a hand over your stomach and fuck, hao's so grateful. so fucking grateful, and so he's whispering praise into your ear ... "you're so pretty like this ... pretty thing with a pretty view ..." and it's got your brain buzzing like crazy.

your orgasm is creeping up on you, so best believe you hold on tight. can't have you falling asleep already, right? after all, seeing you all pressed up against the steamy glass has the gears in hao's mind spurring, and you'd be a fool to think he wouldn't fuck you on every surface of the room until your cute cunt's fucked raw and spilling with his cum ...

#minghao x reader #minghao smut #xu minghao x reader #xu minghao smut #svt smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #💌 drabbles #answered #✰ 💿 anon

[joannasteez]

tanks of blood (1) - circa '09

pairing: biker!roman reigns x black reader warning: this chapter contains detailed explicit content and alcohol. mentions of violence. the perspective changes oddly towards the end but who gives af, this is for funsies authors note: been sitting on this first chapter for a hot minute. its a flashback! just a little establishment of feelings and dynamics. word count: 3k tagging: @333creolelady @harmshake @theninthwonder @thesamoanqueen @kill-the-artiste @empressdede @spritelucozade @gg-trini i suck at keeping up who wants tags for what. but let me know if you want tags for just this story, roman stuff, cody or everything.

circa '09—

pensacola summers are muggy. sticky thick air that binds to the skin. and even beyond this nasty little inconvenience, pensacola night life rages with a thundering sort of spirit. wood floors groaning under worn shoes, and the walls bleeding with a little taste of everything that's been spilled onto them—overflowed shots of smooth vodka, ice cold tequila cocktails, crisp foamy beer, and the poor stain of some too-slow-to-swing-back assholes blood — till the bitterness steeps into the grain. and this here is no real complaint, because the dross of it is the essence. the thing that stokes the fire of the night till it's a bursting flame. 

and stubbs' dive bar is a staple for all the no good, almost-there-degenerates of pensacola, florida. for not so humble street royalty. but stubbs' dive is only popular because the guys made it that way, what with the vicious rumbling of their dyna's and their cruisers. stainless steel a smooth sharp glisten under the moonlight. and they are as rowdy as their engines, a dirty heavy symphony bordering impatience always. with a mounting lust for the grime of life, inherited surely, from the fathers and uncles and elder brothers who they bore their names from. 

but maybe its nature. the heat of the day simmering quieter men to act upon deep seated urges till their thoughts roam fiery and less ashamed. and maybe thats why randy orton does what he does, acting upon desire with a selfishness, like it's a right born to him. but your indulgence is no better. intrigue rife in your skin till its heating your cheeks. his broad fingers warm, adjusting the pool stick you bend over so prettily to angle with. and if randy is nothing else he is, easy. goes about everything with a deftness that tugs your younger curiosities. so when he touches, just for the sake of touching—because all forbidden things are so damn appealing—the fearlessness in him radiates. excites the skin till its fluttering wild. pulsing. a quick shiver through the spine. the soft of your leg slipping against his rough jeans. 

"easy on the back end here. don't underestimate that hit".

you jitter. his breath warm over exposed skin. "don't underestimate this stick up your ass if i miss this". 

"a little pain is still a good time", his voice low and rumbling. seducing. free hand traveling lower, from the back end of the pool stick to the tender skin of your waist. the easy slip of his playful touch hidden by the shadows covering the back corner of the dimly lit bar. his thumb stroking soft. forcing from you deeper breaths, for the sake of even a little control. 

"randy", you warn. 

"call the pocket sweetheart". 

his thumb feels good, in that forbidden way that urges blood to rush and desire to simmer. untamed and existing messily against your skin. threatening to cause an undoing chaos. he would hate this, and you should too.

"left corner pocket". 

his fingers curl in, more similar to a deep kneading till it's caught firm, just above the denim band of your skirt. and it's a small show of the fire in his fingers, of the possibilities, choosing a tenderness that compels you closer to acting on mere curiosity. and then he's off you. your hand forcing the pool stick to clack against the cue ball. the eight ball falling into the pocket despite his teasing. your heart hammering, refusing to still. hand out as you wait. a hundred dollar bill,  ever the simple prize—carrying the weight of such palpable tension—slips in your grasp. and when all six feet and five inches of him move in to crowd your body, you feel the swell of heat that breaks off him. a lulling force that makes breathing hard. and he doesn't speak as you pocket the money. the low sit of his eyes —mischief in them not so dissimilar to a viper— sharp.

and the others are too rowdy and liquored up to notice, and maybe for both of your sakes it's best. because he would hate this. could possibly even become violent over it. 

randy's thumb, the one that'd so sweetly slipped over your skin, raises to do the same to your cheek till its sweeping over and under to your chin. skimming easy to line your bottom lip. plump and glossed and tempting. and he's considering you, the burn in your eyes, attempting to decipher whether the heat of them is fear, desire, or a mixture of the two. 

"randy", you warn again. 

because you were spoken for. even if the words were silent, known only through secret but not so secret tongue kisses and lingering stares. through wind rushing rides on the back of his dyna and the burdening curl in of his fingers. possession like a nail, screwing into the skin. 

randy's thumb leaves your lip, swiping off a streak of the glossy balm. a sugary cherry on his tongue. your blood beating in your ears, fingers twitching, small and inching towards something that feels like neediness. he knew what he was doing. but he grins, surrendering with silence to the natural order of things. to unspoken rules and terms of engagement. he stalks away, taking with him that burdening heat. the sensation of his touch lingering as your lip tenses through your teeth. eyes floating away and else where to forget that small bout of rebellion against the quiet but ever present force of him. of roman. 

maybe a shot will help the uneasy heat in your belly? or perhaps make it worse? liquid courage possessing its own bursting flame of possibility. no. tequila would be no good. a step in a worser direction. randy's viper eyes still slipping slow over your curves and balmy brown skin, watching the swing of your hips with a quiet admiration, bordering the thick edges of lust that threaten to take him in. but he's smart about such quiet desires. settles for sipping at the chilly beer nestled easy between street scarred fingers. 

you call the bartender. "water please". fingers running anxious over the bar top. 

"still playin' with fire?" the bar loud, the guys and other patrons swelling up the space with laughs and drunk jeers, but nothing stops the recognition of that voice. slightly lisped and ever playful. cody rhodes, oddly dashing for the messy biker life and more judging than the worst gossiping grandmother you've ever met. blue eyes piercing. always looking  for something. 

you sip. "still mindin' my business?"

"if not me, who else?"

"you're such a mom". fingers dipping in to flick the icy water at him. because if cody is nothing else, he's a perpetual pest. 

"and you, a child". 

"fuck you rhodes".

he snorts. snatching your water to finish it. "it would be fun i'm sure but for my own safety i'm gonna have to pass". 

and the music is louder somehow, cody leaving you to step further into the storm of men he'd pulled himself from. their shot glasses empty, scattered and growing still by the hour. voices yelling higher somehow over the hard thumping bass of music. leather littering the bar booth cushions, and any other loose chairs it can find. the worn material sewn with patches, not so dissimilar to tiny precious stones stuck to some grand old crown. and though most of the guys were mere prospects, waiting faithfully for that full patch in, the pensacola streets belonged to them still. riding comfortably off the nobility of their fathers. ripping and running. chaos at their fingertips and mischief in their eyes. 

but the warmth of the night is inviting, breezes the skin more than the stiffness of the bar. roman standing at the opening of an alley just next to the building, roughing out words, unintelligible, but the closer you get to him the better the timbre is. his big boy, taking care of business voice, you're sure of it. that slight underscoring of coarseness, even at such a young age, steeping chills into your skin. his eyes cutting up, on you now, sticking to the dip in your hips till they find lips, and then your eyes. 

he pulls you in, listening to the call still, touch instinctive. possessive. always claiming your body with a certain finesse. a wide palm stretching along your back till its comfortable, slipping into the back pocket of your skirt. and his head tilts, something slight, like he's taking a reading. and his eyes, black pushing against brown, too silent to be anger but silent enough that its uneasy. 

you know that look well. he's annoyed. 

the call ends. his phone slipping into the back pocket of worn dark denim jeans.

his nose flares. "you smell like him". like randy. because the six foot five inch mischievous piece of shit decided to crowd your space. and you'd decided against the good sense God gave you to indulge him. his spiced cologne staining your top. roman's fingers firm and only becoming firmer, slipping out till they grip into the soft of your hips. a smolder more than a bursting flame in his eyes. composed in his displeasure. "you make it real easy for him to try my patience". 

your eyes roll, feet trailing away. the lamp post a blinding yellow that forces you to see his annoyances too clearly. the side of the bar, away from the street corner and eyes of nosy pensacola pedestrians, is much darker. simple dense bricks and gravely ground. 

"you make getting bored very easy".

when you turn he's there. thick chest pressing into yours. easing you into the dampness of the bar's side brick wall. loose tendrils of hair falling against his face, inky and fine. you reach to touch, his own fingers catching yours to fold over them and in between. slipping till his thumb presses your palm. you wrap about his touch there, with soft fingers, void of rebellious intention, before pulling him in by his arms. and he's not so taut here but the wild strength and warmth in him is clear. a radiating heat that lulls you forward. and yes randy's intensity is subduing, maybe even fearfully so, but roman has a familiarity to him. a safety that makes falling into his touch easy. 

his thumb finds your cheek. caressing over the apple of it. a sweet trail over your lips, chuckling at the pitiful little kisses you give it, eyes peering up from below your lashes. ever coy and ingratiating. and down it goes, a slow stripe over your throat, before its up and over to rest at your pulse. his nose knocking tender into yours, lips faint. you can nearly taste the beer he's had. 

"you're not bored". confident in that fact. lips daintily taking yours. barely a kiss. a peak of his tongue after that forces something desperate and feathered to break from you. "just greedy". thumb smoothing into your pulse. "i gave you a little something for the first time a few weeks ago and now you don't know how to act". 

you smile. drunkenly. his scent heady. "so we both agree, this is your fault". 

"everything is my fault". his mouth retreating to tender skin. pulling at the gentleness of it. leading with the slip of his tongue till his lips begin to lay claim. a heated suck that's all possession. 

you moan. "m'happy you know this". 

"if you're happy then fine". 

and if not for the kiss itself, you'd hate the crisp hoppy flavor of his tongue, but the slip of it is too comforting to ignore. the light summer breeze and his warmth, swaddling your skin till it's arresting your bones. an excitement dancing your nerves. and he's holding you tightly, a hand splayed against your back, pressing into him as he's pressing you further into coarse brick. the other roughing and kneading its way over and under your skirt, feeling up the exposure of your inner thighs. the heat there revving the pulse in his blood. surely it wouldn't take much to slip between your panties. to touch you firmly till you came. his legs long, stout, angling wider to trap you in. 

it reminds him of some few weeks ago. his birthday. the day had been loud and crazy. gift after gift, and who would expect anything less for the prince of pensacola. whose father birthed the bloodline. and so that night had went on, you tucked under him by his own wordless request, lingering eyes and his hands searching for comfort in your skin, till you could no longer avoid the heat of them. and so they'd dug and littered pleasure harshly. a greedy taking. a years long build released suddenly and so terribly blissed. sounds he'd never heard before from you, wanting to hear them now all the time. tremblings in your skin that'd bruised the harsher parts of him to a softness. 

the now midnight air streams against your skin, easy but chilling. his touch hot as it fingers past your panties to slip over your slit. and the sudden invasiveness of it is maddening, a sweet rolling over, wet and firm at your clit. your blood taking to a wild thrumming as his tongue licks wide into your mouth. everywhere that he finds himself, embraced over the whole of you, steadied and controlled. a fervor that weakens your knees. 

the honk of a car reminds you of where you are. the coarse bricks of the wall he's fastened you to. the too bright lamp post not so far away. the guys, rowdy in the bar still, and the possibility of a passerby. 

"were-were outside". your voice rushed and whispered. 

"it's dark". the wet glide of a finger pushing patient against lush resistance. lips still working over yours, lapping sweetly, to calm the unease of your nerves. "no one will see us", so sure of himself. stroking gentle through the tight clutch of your pussy. groaning in time with the throbbing take you give his finger. and the intimacy here is odd, exposed to a somewhat weirdly lit street corner, but so very isolated still. your hands burying into the loose knot of his hair, breathing ragged against his mouth. the fear of being found and the thrill of release tugging the nerves beneath your skin. and when he's there, deep and caressing, his lips pulling to smile as you curse into the midnight breeze. "and if you're quiet, no one will hear us either". 

roman's teeth pry at the part of your lips, sinking into the plush of the bottom one. steeping his fingers into the soak of you as his urges crash into you with an easy willingness. his ears sweetened by every sound that stretches out. fragile and dainty one moment, and then overtaken by something more feverish and raw the next. 

"if my birthday is anything to go by though", his mouth at your ear. breath hot. shivering your spine. "then there ain't no gettin you to just shut up and take it huh?"

your belly coils. wrecks your voice. "fuck you"

"whenever you want". 

and his persistence is tiring to the doubtful parts of you. the ones that fear sudden judgement and interruption. white heat over your brows, rising in your cheeks. a second finger slipping in with the first, a deep take as they go, stretching with leisure, as if the night has oh so graciously slowed for this moment. and dammit you wish it did, just a little if it meant holding him against you longer. your nails threatening to break into the muscle of him, running mindless over the leather covering his back. black and worn and familiar, smelling of warm amber wood as it works to soak your skin. a strong silent claim. 

but there were always other things. 

"yoo!", a voice calls. 

it sounded like one of the twins. like jimmy. 

but roman continues his ministrations. shushes into your cheek before kissing you to drown your whimpering noises. and you curl into him, figuring his broad body will shield you. 

and you're nearly there. blood rushing and the heat sharp. pressure in your core, tight and unrelenting. 

but jimmy is closing in. "yoo uce!". step after step, grinding the dirt under his heavy feet. "jey in here going at it. we need them hands". 

the moment caves in till its collapsing, and roman slips his fingers from you. annoyed and sucking his teeth. fishing for something in his pockets till he's wiping your arousal away with a tissue. "i'm sorry", jaw twitching. a sharp clacking sounding in his other pocket. fishing again till he pulls out two carved rings. he slips them on, looking at you still, your eyes and your lips, searching for tells of anger. 

still, he hasn't moved. doesn't want to leave you. 

"it's okay", you break from his eyes. pushing him lightly towards where jimmy's voice calls from. "go".

and your legs, despite the thought-numbing heat, are suddenly cooler now. missing the sweet burn of him as they chill up. a breeze whisking to fill in the absence of him. and the circumstances are annoying. frustration rife in your body as it runs with a shiver. but it seems to be a better deal than toughing it out inside the bar. because even from the outside front of stubbs' you can hear the chaos of it all. screaming voices and wood cracking bangs. a fight of some sort. the inevitable unraveling. because who were the guys if they didn't get themselves into some shit. proud about their leather and proud about their pride. it only ever made for rougher nights, especially after the drinks were poured and savored. words back and forth till a fist flew to silence it all. 

in the end it was sure to be wordless and bloody, because the guys had a perpetual hard on for mess. and then came the screeching wheels against asphalt and parked cars blaring their own sirens. stubbs' bar bound to be lit up with blue and red because the cops had a perpetual hard on for the guys. a cycle of bullshit indeed. 

you wait by their parked bikes. a uniformed line of black and steel. each styled with crimson red fenders. a pout in your lips because tequila sounds like a good deal. something smooth and clear to eat at the unsettling ball in the pit of your gut. 

and the street has a ghostly silence to it. an air that is comfortable in how still it is. 

your eyes close and for the first time, you settle into the quiet of the night. the nothingness of it all, sweet and new. no rattling engines or clinking metal. neither were there jarring or jeering voices, threatening to break against the skin. no ruptures of the air from sure fated chaos. just a simple lonely breath. you like this. 

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns fic #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #biker au #joannasteez #tanks of blood

[rin-and-jade]

Is This (Truly) My Reflection..? : A Post on Imposter Syndrome [Master Guide]

" Did well on a test? Must be luck. They think im smart? Man, i must've tricked them because im not. My condition is bad? Well it could be even worser than this. Im struggling? Must be a minor thing, plus everyone struggles worser right..? "

If these words hits close to home, take a moment to look in the mirror. What do you notice? Maybe you fear lots of things, having horrible self-esteem, or being a perfectionist and overthinking everything?

Fear not! They're just blotches obscuring your true reflection, let's finally clean your mirror, shall we? So let's get on with the post;

How did go dusty?

Materialistically speaking, we all know that objects also need regular maintenance to keep it's best quality and lifetime,, mirrors are one of them, especially glasses because magical smudges spawns in once in a while, pretty annoying to see with when things are not clear isn't it?

I think the imposter image also clouds you the same way, it doesn't change the facts, but it does change the way you perceive them.

But, how did they spawn in your vision? It doesn't just pop out, maybe we didn't see it coming when it's small, dust and smears are more visible when they cluster together. What this means is how criticism, out-of-reach demands, and unrealistic expectations you hear most often gets accumulated, slowly obscuring you. Make sense right?

Since the things you hear the most echoes through your chamber harder than the less frequent ones, and that nobody hear's the same thing/words automatically means there are different forms of this syndrome's manifestation, i'll list them down: (bare in mind this is read in a pov of talking to oneself)

Perfectionist - "It all has to be right" You must do it perfect, everything must go smooth, if it doesn't go like how you planned you could've done better in many ways because why can't you see it coming before? That's impossible and unforgivable, there's no toleration for mistakes. Makes you look like you're not as good enough as others.

Expert - "Until then, i may be competent" There's a lot to master or learn, only then you can call yourself worthy of a title. Because the greatest ones must know everything, they don't have any weaknesses--since that's what an expert is! What are you, who learnt most things it has to give, but still missing a lot of little gaps? Once it is all flawless and understood you can call yourself that.

Natural Genius - "I am great, as long i can wing it" Everything must be an easy feat, you must be able to do things right on first try, if not, you might be no other than an average person. Geniuses are fast learning--and they can do everything right where people least expect it. Only then you can truly be smart or intelligent, wrong deductions are associated with less bright people! So if you just make one mistake out of anything, You are just the same as them, you don't have such talent!!

Lone wolf - "It's not real effort if it's intervened" A status or level means nothing if someone helps you, because thats cheating! You should start from scratch like everyone else, asking for help will equate to not being competent or worthy. You will never be able to asses your competence or abilities if it was assisted by someone else, you need to prove being worthy by doing it all yourself!

Hardest Worker - "I should perform as the best" Only if you work the most, the hardest, diligently and with no rest, is only when you can settle down and claim your achievements. What are you if you are not as special? You are nothing but a fraud if you're not the hardest working person ever, you also don't deserve to take a break until you reach to a higher level than others! You are nothing if you are not productive, or didn't achieve any amazing outcome.

Each types has its own fixations and areas where self-doubt comes around, you might even be a mix of these 5 (pick the dominant one if can), the manifestations are endless. Note that the main theme it all has are fear of being fake/inadequate and, or causing extreme doubt, one way or another.

If you need more assurance, i have prepared links for two short quizzes to figure out if you are showing signs of the imposter syndrome! They're already tested by me, so give these two a try.

How should i clean it??

Good question, but before that, i want to mention that this inner critic is a common automatic second voice where it's created in a place of potential abuse or mistreatment for many kinds of victims. Just like how you wipe your stuffs clean can go dirty in a few days despite leaving it be, this is the same. But the more you take care of your glass, the harder the specks will stick on it. That's our goal right there: Make the critics bother you less and more weak the more we deflect them.

Now to the main point, its a tough one here, because depending on what type you have, has it's own root of cause that needs to be tackled accordingly. This post is how to specifically tackle the sense of fraud in being a system, but you can apply this to any other general things the syndrome is causing you problems at.

--

Dear Perfectionist, here's how you can clean your mirror:

Understand that CDDs have no 'right' way of how it'll present the symptoms to you. Like, for someone to have a cold who have a sore throat for the early onset, while you're having runny nose,, does not mean you are the odd one out for not being the same as other's manifestation.

Nothing is constant, or the same, in frequency or intensity. You don't have to suffer 24/7 to finally accept you have a CDD or anything else. Just like for those with chronic pain, who doesn't experience pain for a day, does not mean they are cured of, or not having it. One minute of feeling okay still can happen to those with illnesses.

Perfectionism seeks outward assurance to fit whatever it finds 'right' or it's prime example as reference, which is the opposite of what you truly need: Acceptance. Comparison can be helpful, but oftentimes it causes counterproductive results. Your experiences are already real and it uniquely belongs to you, no amount of external validation will fill you, accept as how you are.

--

Dear Expert, here's how you can clean your mirror:

Having CDD means having a very covert disorder, it is not that you're a fraud for not knowing, or have proof of what caused you to be one, or know every parts and places in the innerworld, or need a perfect book filled with documentation on anything you can find. You do not need to 'master' or understand how your disorder truly works in order to feel like you have it--because guess what, you do have despite it, buddy.

You cannot rush things! Take things slow and steady, a microwaved meal may not taste good but it sure gets served in a mere minute, but gourmet are made from long and tedious work that trusts the process instead of the final result. Many systems rush to develop a better communication without fully learning what type of communication they have, like communicating with vibes instead of the stereotypical type for example.

Nobody ever figure things out by a 100%, so ease back and embrace uncertainty and the unknown. If the greatest researchers still can't make sense of how our galaxy works, then you should not be guilty or feel incompetent for not being able to figure it out, we are not perfect ofcourse, there are limitations to what we can know of our CDD.

--

Dear Natural Genius, here's how you can clean your mirror:

Having a disorder does not mean you immediately know what it does, will do, or how it'll turn out. Never feel bad about learning from scratch, you also don't have to get things right first try because it might be a new topic you're unfamiliar with. If you once think you have DID, but turns out to be Polyfragmented the longer you learn and research, it is a very natural thing to experience as CDD's have many similarities between each other.

You can't keep relying on being unprepared, but expect to do it perfect. It is not a negative thing to always recap, or learn it again, and whenever you do get things wrong, it is a valuable information to learn from, it's not your enemy. The lightbulb isn't invented at first try, but after hundreds and thousands of tries, and the worth still never gets devalued.

--

Dear Lone Wolf, here's how you can clean your mirror:

It is never cheating to ask for help, or get insight from another person. It never means you are not competent if you need some external help, rather like how you cannot see crumbs in your face until someone points it out. One can do an okay amount of progress, but if with many, it can progress even better and faster.

You must dismantle whatever makes you think of this way, things like hyper-independence are caused by a deeper root, you must delve and explore why are you only deemed worth, or feel okay, if you do everything yourself. We grow better when we surround ourselves with many other things.

--

Dear Hardest Worker, here's how you can clean your mirror:

healing is a journey, i understand that you want to get over with the whole CDD's symptoms and it's problems and start getting into final fusion/functional system, that the fluctuation with everyday's progress may frustrate you, but everyday doesn't have to be succeeding something or have an eureka, progress is never linear. You will still get there one day, don't fret on it too much okay?

Worries may not leave you alone fully, and just so you know, your worth or validation isn't tied with productivity. Whatever guilt or doubt you have that is causing this, i hope you can incorporate more self-compassion. For the alter with role jobs, you all deserve to have a break and have fun outside of those jobs, and rely with other parts for help. You're doing enough.

Why does it happen? Where's the takeaway?

Well, imposter syndrome relies on many biases/distortions and possible fallacies, i'll tell you some in hopes of helping you get out of its grip better than your previous attempts after learning the awful trick of theirs:

Confirmation bias: When you take a part of a fact to confirm your current image of you have, whilst downplaying contradicting and or disregarding other pov to maintain it.

Mental filter: Fixated on the negative aspects or flaws while missing out on the bigger picture or contextual information it has. Leading to false judgement of one's situation/ability.

Overgeneralization: Where a person assumes an experience from one event will apply to another different event. Or base an answer from a limited evidence or current failures. For example, interpreting a single mistake or setback as evidence that they are incompetent or unworthy, despite having a track record of success in other areas.

False consensus bias: Believing that others share the same negative opinions or doubts about oneself, even when there is little evidence to support this assumption. For example, one may believe that everyone in their workplace or academic environment is highly competent and confident, leading them to feel even more out of place and undeserving.

Fundamental attribution error: Where one underemphasize situational and environmental factors for the behavior of itself/someone else while overemphasizing dispositional or personality factors. For example, people who cut lines in traffic is a jerk, but if you cut traffic it's because there's something important. The pure opposite can be true in this specific example: Sarah receives praise from her supervisor for completing a project ahead of schedule and with excellent quality. However, instead of attributing her success to hard work, skills, and knowledge, she discounts the positive feedback by attributing the outcome to external factors. Saying "I just got lucky this time," or "My team members helped me a lot, so it wasn't all my effort." instead.

--

So there a hecking ton of information i put here.. But these things are very important to learn about, because the imposter syndrome is a multifaceted problem that has to be addressed in more than one angle.

I hope, everything that is written from start to end, can be used as your chemical cleaner, wiping cloth, along with your handy guide on how to take care of your mirror professionally,

Happy cleaning everyone!

- j

#did #actually did #did community #did osdd #did system #dissociative identity disorder #sysblr #plural #system stuff #jeducates #imposter syndrome

[insuke69]

/|MILES 42 HEADCANNONS P3 |\

My god, uh- part three but this is before y'all get together

DIFFERENT POVS AHSHDJ Warnings; Miles doin a little prowler stuff, Just description of someone who was beaten.

(So, there's gonna be if he asks you out/crushes on you first, we both know damn well you wouldn't do shit if you liked him and he were real.)

implied female reader :[

================================================

When Miles was crushing..:

-He'd draw you, like- during lunch if you're done eating and just laughing with friends he draws you sitting and with your smile

If you don't hang out with anyone during lunch then he'd draw you as you sat by yourself with a calm neutral expression while you did your own thing.

-Bold mf yet shy. He'd ask what you're doing and act all smug and confident but as soon as y'all stop interacting he'd over think his every line

did she actually like that joke? she looked upset, wait- was she? why didn't I ask what was wrong?

etc.

-He was always himself around you, yet toned it down when he didn't know exactly how you'd react to him.

-when y'all had your first date, this man is a gentlemen and picked you up in his motorcycle, (yes I declare he has a motorcycle.) He called you gorgeous in every way possible along with more flirty or bold lines

"Damn, If I knew you were this fine than I would've dressed up more myself."

"jealous of your belt, my hands would feel better on your hips."

he was always hella smooth with it too.

-he first asked for your number and he texted so politely for a good first impression. "Hey, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to go out to dinner with me sometime?"

"Alright, perfect. see you then 😗"

but a lil after y'all actually date he just ..is.

"When did yo say the daye was"

"?"

"Date*"

"You*"

he's a fast typer.

-Hated seeing you talk to other guys when he was just crushing on you, mostly pissed at himself for not growing a pair and asking you out though.

okay this is just a scenario I cannot stop thinking about once I said that:

you were freshly broken up with your cheating boyfriend- well, you were never labeled but he made you seriously think it was exclusive and that'd piss you off beyond belief, Miles was the perfect shoulder to cry on. Never once did he make a move on you during that time. "That prick said he didn't care for labels but got a public girlfriend after 4 months of being with me!" You mumble out with small tears of frustration pooling in your eyes, your vision was blurred a bit so you couldn't see Miles reaction. He was seething.

how could a guy just use and fuck with you like that? He doesn't deserve to even be treated as a man, much less a person.. But Miles simply comforted you in that moment and reminded you how it was to be cared for platonically, or at least that's how he showed it. The next day? your 'ex' was nowhere to be found, the day after that: he went to school battered and bruised, broken nose, black eye, limping and bandaged everywhere. He told everyone that he was just chilling out in an alleyway by his house and some rando with a purple dark mask and metal gauntlet kind-of-thing just attacked him. weird. Vague coincidence that Miles' knuckles are bruised and he visibly bites back a grin as he hears your ex talk about it. what helped most was that when you told his girlfriend about what your ex did to you, she dumped him and told everyone exactly why, which made him lose any pity he could have gotten.

-Was terrified to tell you he was prowler, never knew how you'd actually react. THATS IT OMFG IDK- DO I MAKE A P4?!

#across the spiderverse #42 miles morales #miles morales headcanons #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x you #miles earth 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #part 3 #tysm for the support #Insuke

[mysticficti0n]

goodbye... for awhile

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

warnings- swearing, fluffy, emotional, 16years old

words- 1.8k

a/n-I had this idea last night while watching something on insta so here's my go at it! just pretend thats you and Tom 🫡 and for when they preform in class for the lesson I know 'all I wanted' is a song by Paramore (love them sm) but lets say for the sake of this Y/n, Bill and Tom created it okay?

(editing B here may I say I cried while writing this... and editing this so if you ever need to cry, this has you covered)

I woke up and my mood dropped immediately, it was Friday which most people would be excited obviously- the weekend was on it's way, but the thought of today created a pit in my stomach, my last day with the Kaulitz twins, they were my best friends since we began at the school, Bill and I would meet up after lessons everyday and walk home together sometimes even staying at his for dinner, then Tom began hanging with us and 5 years later we've been all best friends and me and Tom started dating we were 14 and now we're 16 and only me, him, our parents, Bill and his other bandmates know about us- but after today....what was us going to become.

I got ready wearing some jeans, a top which tucked neatly to my sides and some shoes I got for my birthday, I decided to go simple with make up, I already was crying so I didn't need mascara dripping down my cheeks. I looked to the mirror and smiled taking a breath "honey?" my moms voice appeared around the corner and then her face with a small smile "oh sweetheart" she cooed walking in a wrapping her arms around me rubbing my back "I know you're gonna miss them, but I promise you'll see them when they're back- it's okay" I sighed to her shoulder letting my tears go down my face before we pulled away

"I'm just scared to be on my own mom and I'll miss them both so much and... I don't want them to leave but I know they have to" I breathed shakily trying to stop the cries before my mom spoke the bell rang making my heart sink instantly

"we'll talk after okay, lets go to them" I nodded grabbing my bag and walking down the stairs as she opened the door "oh boys" she sighed pulling the two for a hug "I'm so proud of you both but gosh we're going to miss you sweets, but you'll be amazing" she spoke pressing a kiss to both their cheeks, letting them out her arms and I finally looked to their faces which looked sadder and I just looked down and covered my face "talk to her boys" my mom said patting their shoulders and soon I felt hands wrap around me

"I'm gonna miss you two so much" I managed to say between my sobs "but I'm so excited for you, I just don't know what I'm gonna do without you guys" we all pulled away and I saw tears slipping from the brown eyed twins "I'm sorry" a small laughed left my lips

"making us cry Y/n" Bill grinned wiping his eyes "I just... I wish we could bring you along with us" he said while looking to Tom who was looking to me, I turned to him and saw tears streaming down his skin

"oh Tom-" I stood taking him into my arms letting his face go to the crook of my neck "its okay- you're okay"

"I-i'm gonna miss you so much" he whimpered to me his hands clinging to me "I don't wanna leave you Y/n" he whispered

"I know" I breathed pressing a kiss to his cheek "I'm going to watch all your interviews though, and anything I find of your band and I'll try come to a few shows I promise" Bill came over and hugged me along with his brother and my arms curled around the two as we all really excepted it was happening

"darlings- lets get a last photo together, for memories" my mom's smooth voice broke us apart and I stood between the two still crying with a painful hiccup every few seconds but smiling non the less "okay 1...2...3" the camera flashed a few times before she started to well up "beautiful, you... you three need to go to school no...now" her voice broke "Y/n I'll see you after and... oh boys" she sighed as the two came to her arms again "love you two so much"

"love you Y/M/N" they answered coming away and taking a breath "ready?" Tom looked to me giving his hand which I took and I said goodbye to my mom and walked out the house for the last time with them.

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

1-3rd period flew by and three o'clock was near approaching, our last class together was music which is were we all first met, Tom was already sat at the table when me and Bill walked in from our last lesson and we pulled out chairs out from the desk "last hour" Bill spoke looking to his brother who nodded "I think we get to finish our pieces today- I need the paper" Bill rose and went to the teachers desk leaving me and Tom

"you okay?" I spoke shuffling my chair closer to him and he just shook his head "same, b..but we need to just enjoy this okay- I love you so much" I whispered hitting his leg with my foot

"love you too" a smile appeared to his lips as he playfully kicked me back laughing as I missed my shot "idiot" he spat seeing me huff in annoyance

"got the papers!" Bill cheered coming back and placing the sheet music in front of us, our song 'all I wanted', I was singing along with Bill who was playing the piano and Tom was doing acoustic guitar for the background "okay so we need to practise the end bit and Y/n you can do the 'you' bit okay the really long one" I nodded listening to him speak over what we both had to do, through his speech I felt Toms hand search under the table for mine so quickly when I realised I grabbed his palm and held it under the table giving him the 3 squeeze 'I...Love...you'

Time flew by and it got to our time to perform, we stood in from of our class and teacher who was smiling "before we begin, this is Tom and Bills last day with us before they leave to go on tour! congratulations boys so this people is like a free concert, along with Y/n of course" hearing another person say it was their last day hit my heart in a way I didn't know it could be hit and my eyes teared up "ready?" we all nodded and started our song , throughout the song I could feel a pair of eyes on my side, Tom who sat with a proud smile as I actually hit the note with a tear falling from my eye and then hearing gasps from the class

"all I wanted was you!" we ended and the crowd before us applauded, our teacher clapping too, we all hugged before going to our seats, me and Bill highfived as we sat down and I quickly rubbed the tears from my eyes Tom through me a wink and then the bell sounded meaning time for last lesson where I'm with neither of the boys "I'll see you outside" I turned to the two who nodded and Bill was pulled into a conversation with our teacher and Tom turned to me

"we'll be picked up by this bus thing and Georg and Gustav will be in there so if you wanna say goodbye to them too you can" he smiled wrapping his one arm over my shoulders

"great more crying" I giggled leaning to his arm "I don't want you to go Tom" my voice was calm but inside I was falling apart already

"I don't wanna either... mhh- want me and Bill to walk you to your lesson for the last time? like the old times" he spoke changing the subject before we both started to cry again

"yeah...yes please"

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

"have a good weekend everyone!" my teacher announced meaning it was our time to leave, I hurriedly grabbed my things and rushed out the room and sprinted down the corridor to the outside where I could see a mass of people and camera's pointed to two people and a tall man, fuck

"move! please move!" I shouted shoving the crowd as I realised it was Tom and Bill being escorted to the bus that was taking them away "BILL! WAIT BILL PLEASE WAIT" I screamed before finally getting out of the sea of bodies seeing him turn around to me and I rushed into his arms "I'm gonna miss you Bill- fuck I don't want you to leave me here, but do us all proud okay?"

I felt another pair of hands try to pry me away "excuse me ma'am" it was their bodyguard which Bill quickly brushed away before bringing me close again

"we will call- every day, I'll miss you so much- do us proud here too! you'll be amazing okay? come to our shows to see us, scream us I'll know its you okay?" I nodded as tears fell down our cheeks "bye Y/n/n" I sobbed hearing him say it

"bye Billy" I spoke before he let go and I saw Tom rush toward me and I just jumped to his arms, wrapping my arms around his neck and crying into his skin "I love you so much Tom- I love you so so much, you'll do amazing out there, and call me okay- please call me my love and...and don't forget about me " I cried to him and I felt his chest stutter

"I will baby I promise I'll call every night, I'm so sorry we need to go, I love you so much my sweet girl, I promise I will visit when I can and I'm telling you now I wont forget you- how could I?" we pulled apart but still in each others arms "I love you so fucking much baby- so much"

"I love you Tom" we forgot about the crowd and our lips pressed together, it was a kiss I never wanted to leave because I knew leaving it meant I had to let go of him, my boy- I could taste our tears mixing on our lips as we breathed unsteadily before the horn of the car honked "you'll be so good out there... I love you Tom- I love you so much"

"fuck I love you so much Y/n"

we hugged once more before he climbed into the van, I quickly waved to Georg and Gustav who sat patting Tom's back as I watched him sob into his hands, Bill held a heart up as the engine purred awake "DO YOURSELF AND US PROUD AND I PROMISE I'LL COME SEE YOU GUYS- LOVE YOU SO MUCH" I yelled as the began to drive, Tom blew me a kiss before they began to speed up down the road and then they were gone and I just the tears slide down my face until mom showed up coming out the car and wrapping me in a hug "they're gone- they're gone mom" I welped

"I know darling- I know" she held me so tight and brushed the tears from my face "you'll see them again- all of them, and they'll make us all so happy- trust me"

#tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz x reader #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz #00s #georg listing #tokio hotel #gustav schäfer #germany #bill kaulitz #kaulitz twins #tom kaulitz fanfic #bill kaulitz x reader #humanoid #2000s #2000s music #romance #young love #saying goodbye

[bleachification]

a platonic paradox

pairing: grimmjow x reader

warnings: swearing lol thats it

summary: He loves me... he loves me not… he loves me... he... is an emotionally constipated Arrancar with less than desirable social skills and a pension for jealousy. What could possibly go wrong?

One… two… three… four… five shots later, and reality finally starts to blur at the edges. Fuzzier and fuzzier, the strobe lights turn as they cut across blackened space, glowing in feverish haste. 

Maybe drinking on an empty stomach isn’t the greatest of your ideas, but no one’s coined you as a genius thus far, and you certainly never claimed to be one. Plus, you have a valid reason for knocking back a row of tequila: men. Or, more specifically, one man who goes by the name Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez—the bane of your existence and one of your closest friends. However, friend is a term you use very loosely after the earlier fight.

The mere thought of him incites another scowl from you… and a sixth shot that slides down your throat like oil in a car—smooth and familiar. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn to face the person on your left—a head of ginger pops into view, only to be pushed aside by a tiny girl with an irritated yet concerned expression pasted onto her delicate features. Inoue only smiles as Rukia takes her spot next to you and inspects the row of shot glasses on the booth table in front of you. 

“You need to stop,” Rukia demands. 

You barely register her words over the thumping bass of the speakers. The club is a swarm of warm bodies, alcohol, pulsing lights, and wall-shaking music. Through the haze and humidity, you make out the DJ standing at the south end of the venue, directly opposite your booth. 

“You worry too much.” You wave your hand, dismissing Rukia. 

She tries prying the drink you just ordered from your hands but fails miserably.

“For good reason! We’re going to have to carry you home at this rate.” 

Orihime pats Rukia on the shoulder in a calming manner. It doesn’t quite work, but she tries anyway. Ever the pacifist. 

“I think Rukia’s trying to say that we’re worried about you. What exactly happened?” 

Ichigo appears from the crowd and slides in next to his fiancé, beer in hand. “Yeah, what’s going on? You called us out without explanation and started drinking like you were on a personal mission to destroy your liver.”

“I can handle my liquor.” You roll your eyes at your friends’ questioning looks. 

“Y/N,” Orihime presses. 

You groan. “Fine! Fine.”

They all wait expectantly as you down another drink. Every shot turns the world one degree mistier. 

“Grimmjow and I got into a fight,” you grit out. The words taste like gravel on your tongue. 

The three of them exchange a look. 

You frown. “What?”

“It’s just… isn’t that pretty common?” Ichigo asks. 

“No. We argue, sure, but today he… went too far. He was being an asshole—more so than usual. You’d think he’d be nicer to the person who acclimated him to human society. Stupid overgrown cat,” you huff. 

“What did he say?” Ichigo takes a swig of his beer. 

You pause. The whole argument that led to this moment was dumb. So dumb that you can’t even remember what instigated it. All you recall is the hurt washing over you at the end—a vile, sickening sensation that festered like rot in your chest because of the words Grimmjow bit out right before you walked out the door: You’re nothing special. 

In hindsight, what he said wasn’t even that awful. Yet it shredded you the moment it left his lips. Perhaps you took it so hard because you thought you were special to him—in the same way he is to you. The irritating reality is Grimmjow has grown to become one of your closest confidantes. Your best friend. To be cast aside like that… to mean nothing of importance to him… is a harsh and gutting revelation—one that sets fire to your throat and incinerates whatever affection you had left for him to absolute ash. 

“Nothing of importance,” you mutter. 

The others don’t pry any further, sensing you no longer want to talk about it. They’d be right; you don’t want to talk about it… you don’t even want to think about it, especially since the earlier alcohol-induced buzz has now morphed into full-on drunk goggles. 

“I’m gonna go dance.” You’re already halfway across the dance floor before Rukia scrambles to catch up with you. 

Orihime slides her attention over to her fiancé. “Uh. Kurosaki?”

Ichigo dials a number into his phone and brings it to his ear. “Already on it.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It is 1:58 am, and Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez has never been more miserable in his entire life. Not when he was a mindless hollow, not even when he lost to Ichigo—that orange-haired freak of nature. 

No. The almighty former Espada has been reduced to a mopey mess by a mere human. And an annoying one at that. 

It’s been almost five hours since Grimmjow last heard from you. Four of them he’s spent trying to convince himself you’d come back soon like you always do—with that gentle smile on your face that he’s grown disgustingly accustomed to. 

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. 

Grimmjow clenches the phone in his hand and his arm jerks—almost chucking the device at the insufferable clock ticking in the corner. It is a constant reminder that you haven’t returned to him. He only stops himself from throwing the phone once he remembers how much the hunk of metal had cost him. 

Stupid human inventions. 

If it weren’t for the need to constantly message and call you about, well… anything really, Grimmjow would never have spent a cent on the damned thing. 

The phone clatters onto the coffee table as Grimmjow resumes his prior (pitiful) position on the couch: flat on his stomach, face down, and legs draped over the edge. 

Grimmjow frowns—pouts—into the cushions. Twenty minutes pass. Then thirty. Finally, a vibration cuts through the air. 

Someone’s calling him. 

Grimmjow jerks up and unceremoniously falls off the couch in haste to check the notification. His high hopes are immediately dashed when a familiar contact name comes into view: Prick. His shoulders slump, and he lets it ring a couple of times before lazily thumbing the screen to answer the call. 

“The hell do you want?”

“Are you busy?” Ichigo’s voice is barely perceptible amidst the deafening music blaring through the phone’s speakers. 

Grimmjow grimaces, pulling his ear away from the phone, then glances at the coffee table in front of him. A half-melted tub of chocolate ice cream stares back, a mocking reminder of his dramatics grief. Just above the sugary mess sits a large-screen TV—one currently playing a series of films that fit perfectly under the “romantic comedy” genre. 

Grimmjow turns around and faces away from the scene. Out of sight, out of mind. 

“Who do you think I am? Of course, I’m fucking busy.”

“Right… guess I’ll get Y/N home by mys—“

With keys in hand, Grimmjow is already headed out the door when he gruffly cuts Ichigo off. “Address. Now.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Tall, dark, and handsome wraps an arm around your waist as you sway to the suggestive beat. 

Rukia’s long gone. You lost sight of her when the crowd drew you further into the dance floor. You don’t particularly care where the shinigami went—probably back to the booth—as the alcoholic haze clouding your mind bars you from focusing on anything but the gorgeous man next to you. He leans in, clearly interested in something other than dancing, but still asks: “Would you like to dance?”

You study his features. Short black hair sweeps over honey-brown eyes that are shadowed by long lashes. He smirks, showing off a dimple on his left cheek. He’s a looker, for sure. 

Not bad at all, but nowhere near Grimmjow. 

The thought jolts you. Grimmjow has nothing to do with the person beside you. So why is it that every passing second serves as a reminder of him?

You shake those useless thoughts away and plaster a lazy smile on your face. You pull the stranger towards you and wrap your arms around his neck as you move to the beat. He presses up against you, forehead on yours. His lips are millimetres from yours, and his lidded gaze glitters with desire. You welcome it. 

For once, you’re lost to the dizzying heat and drunken thrills of the night, and you’re ready to get lost in the arms of a stranger—someone who, hopefully, will distract you from the man plaguing every dark corner of your mind. 

A tilt of the chin brings you closer to him. He leans in, and you close your eyes, ready for a welcome distraction. But before your lips can meet, the man across from you is harshly yanked back, and a flurry of familiar voices bombards you from all directions. 

You blink twice, trying to take in the scene before you. 

Firstly, Grimmjow is here. He’s clutching so tightly onto your poor dance partner’s shoulder that it’s a miracle his collarbone hasn’t shattered. The guy looks terrified… and for a good reason. Grimmjow is pissed. Hell, even that would be an understatement. An air of rage so heavy you almost mistake it for spiritual pressure ripples off him in waves. His normally cavalier expression is distorted. Gone are his usual smirks or annoyed scowls. In their place sits a mask of absolute crazed, seething fury. If looks could kill, this whole club would be home to a mountain of corpses by now. 

Secondly, the shouts you hear originate from Ichigo and the two girls; all three are trying to push through the crowd to make it to you and the blue-haired psychopath before you. Thanks to the dark atmosphere, overbearing music, and the fact you’re all in an isolated corner of the club, no one else seems to notice the complete disaster unfolding before your eyes. 

Ichigo breaks through the sea of people and immediately hooks his arms under Grimmjow’s. It takes almost all his strength to drag the Arrancar back a metre or two. 

Ichigo struggles to keep Grimmjow at bay. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’ll kill you after I get my hands on him. Fucking let go!” Grimmjow pulls free from Ichigo’s grasp and steps toward the other man. 

That split second snaps you to attention, and you run to block him. In less than a second, you’re in front of the other guy and facing a murderous Grimmjow; arms spread out in a protective stance. You wobble a bit and curse yourself for getting this inebriated. 

Grimmjow freezes. The look in his eyes—a strange mixture of annoyance, hurt, and unfathomable anger—makes you uneasy. 

“What, pray tell, are you doing?” You mentally high-five yourself for not slurring your words. It isn’t easy in your current state. 

Grimmjow scoffs. “You’re actually protecting this guy?”

Said guy peeps up with: “Look, I’m sorry. Didn’t realize you had a partner.”

You turn to him and scrunch your nose. “I am not his partner.”

Grimmjow makes a snarling sound behind you. 

You whip back towards him. “And you. Are you insane?! Why the hell would you do that?”

Grimmjow shifts closer. You have to tilt your head up to glare at him. His breath fans your face as he answers. 

“He put his hands on you. You think I’m just gonna let that shit slide?” He’s speaking low. Rough. Dangerous. 

You open your mouth to retort, only to find yourself dangling upside down from Grimmjow’s shoulder. He just hauled you up like a sack of flour. 

This bastard. 

As if on instinct, you immediately start wiggling in his grasp and thumping on his back, yelling at him to put you down. The struggling only drives him to tighten his hold on you as he marches the two of you out the club doors. 

“Keep doing that, and I’ll drop you.”

Bastard move. 

“Put me down!” You let out a yell in irritation. Grimmjow pretends not to hear you. 

From your peripheral vision, you catch sight of Rukia, followed by the other two, scrambling to catch up. Orihime apologizes profusely to the bouncer at the door for the commotion caused by the man carrying you. 

“Ichigo, help!” 

Ichigo only shakes his head in disappointment as Grimmjow increases his pace. 

Traitor. 

Maybe it’s the liquid courage. Or perhaps it’s because you’ve finally lost it, but you raise a hand and land a hard smack on Grimmjow’s ass. 

He stiffens. “What the f-“

“I’ll do it again if you don’t put me down this instant, you goddamn psychopath,” you warn. 

Instead of complying, he shifts you until you’re being carried in his arms bridal-style. He just cut off your accessibility to his ass. Although you can’t ponder that disappointment for too long, the realization of what he’s about to do dawns on you when he takes a slow step backward. 

“Grimmjow, don’t you dare-“Your own shriek cuts you off as he rips through the air and propels you toward the sky. You can only tighten your hold on his neck and bury your face in his shoulder as biting winds whip around you at the speed of light. Despite the cool night air, Grimmjow is warm to the touch. In less than five seconds, you’re staring at the front door of his apartment. 

The son of a bitch just sonido-ed you across the city. 

Grimmjow finally puts you down as he fishes the keys from his pocket. The whole time he hasn’t said a single word to you. 

“Why are we here?” You reluctantly follow him into the familiar unit. 

He has his back turned to you. Broad shoulders hunch over as he removes his shoes. Three seconds later, he flops onto the couch while running a hand down his face, quietly letting out a sigh of exhaustion and a hint of something else. 

You sit in the spot next to him and pull your legs up. You shift until you’re facing him and only inches away. 

You poke him in the stomach. It’s a habit you have that Grimmjow complains about constantly, but he never actually takes any action to stop it. 

“Hey. Answers. Now,” you interrogate. 

He lazily peeks at you; head still lolled back on the back of the couch. Grimmjow moves and his shifting weight causes you to dip forward. Typically, you’d be able to straighten yourself up. However, drunk you has precisely zero sense of balance, so you topple right into Grimmjow’s lap. 

Grimmjow almost jumps out of his skin at the unexpected contact. You feel your cheeks flame up in embarrassment as you try to push yourself back up, only to lose your balance again and fall back against him. Your face presses up against his stomach, and the heat clouds all your senses. You feel even drunker than before. 

“For fucks sake.” Tired of your struggling, Grimmjow pulls you up until you’re sat in his lap and face-to-face with him. You try to ignore the fact that you’re basically straddling him. You really try to ignore his hands resting on the side of your thighs. The contact causes something within you to flare up—an unsettling feeling you push away to the furthest corner of your mind. 

“Well, this is nice. We’ve reached a new level of friendship now,” you snort. Thankfully, your stable tone doesn’t betray your wavering nerves. 

Grimmjow’s jaw tenses. “Right. Friendship.” 

You almost reel back. He spits that last part out like it is laced with poison. A sting of disappointment shoots through you, and you move to get off him. Right now, you want to be as far away from him as possible in fear of Grimmjow seeing the tears that have begun to prick the back of your eyes. 

If he hates being your friend that badly, then there’s no way he’d ever reciprocate… 

“Hey. You crying?”

To your surprise, Grimmjow grabs you by the hips and pulls you back, caging his huge arms around you to prevent you from escaping. His eyebrows furrow as he leans in to examine your face. You muster up every ounce of willpower to suck the tears back into the confines of your eyelids. 

“You look like a bug,” Grimmjow murmurs. 

You pinch his cheek with a scowl, mind briefly wiped of your previous grievances. 

“Bastard.”

He doesn’t even flinch. “You stopped crying.”

“I never started,” you retort. 

He makes a noncommittal noise. 

“What?”

He grunts, eyes still fixated on your own. “Trying to figure out why you ran away.”

You gape at him. He has to be kidding. Right?

“Okay, first of all, I did not run away; I left because you pissed me off. Second of all, are you serious? 

Your exasperation only fuels his confusion. Grimmjow’s face scrunches, and he tilts his head only slightly, but enough to emphasize how baffled he is by this whole situation. 

You falter. This whole night you have agonized over his words, never once considering that he may not find fault in what he said. Maybe he never intended to hurt you and only meant to state a fact: that you simply don’t mean anything special to him.

Do you occupy such a minuscule part of his heart? Given that he takes up all the space you have to offer in yours, it is an unnecessarily cruel twist of fate.

You steel yourself. Grimmjow is your friend. Nothing less… and certainly nothing more. He has drawn that line very clearly—in bright, irreversible red. 

“Forget it. It’s nothing,” you murmur.

He shoots you a look; he doesn’t believe you. “Oi. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you insist. 

His eyes narrow, and he slowly drawls your name. Irritation coats the word like honey as he presses you for a different answer. 

With a shake of your head, you cement your refusal to budge. Nothing good could come from that conversation, and you would rather suffer in silence than lose Grimmjow as a friend—which is the only outcome you can fathom. 

“I… it doesn’t matter. Not like you’d care.” The last part is practically inaudible to the human ear. Unfortunately for you, Grimmjow’s senses are anything but human. 

He stiffens, looking like he’d just been slapped hard. “What the fuck are you on about? Who told you that? I’ll kill ‘em.”

“No one told me Grimmjow… no one other than you, at least. It’s obvious you don’t care to be friends anymore,” you scoff and look away, too anxious to meet his eyes. 

Every single muscle of Grimmjow’s goes rigid. You sneak a glance at him and pause at the storm brewing in his gaze. Tides of emotions threaten to overwhelm one another, but at the forefront of the tumultuous battle flashes an intensity you are very familiar with: desperation. 

Grimmjow tips his chin down, lessening the gap between your faces… and lips. What comes out of his mouth next scarcely breaks above a whisper, but the words themselves bear a threatening weight. 

“Obvious to who? Because last time I checked, you’re the only human I ever speak to willingly, the only person whose touch I don’t find repulsive, and the only one who can mouth off to me in my own damn house and not die for it. So tell me, Y/N, who is that obvious to? Because it sure as hell ain’t me,” he snarls. 

You blink. That sobers you up. Any and all words dying in your throat as you take in everything. You only manage to find your voice again after a minute of deliberation. 

“Then why did you say that I wasn’t special? You’re giving me mixed signals here,” you whisper. 

Realization dawns on him like an iron curtain as your response dwindles in the hushed air. He shifts again. This time, switching his grip on your thigh to the curve of your waist. His hands settle firmly, yet gently, on your side, and the warmth resonates through your bloodstream, making it increasingly difficult to focus on the present situation. You try anyway. 

“Is that why you ran away?”

You roll your eyes. “I didn't run.”

He shrugs. “My bad. Is that why you abandoned me?”

For a split second, Grimmjow’s sulking reminds you of a kicked puppy.  A crass, six-foot-one puppy with blue fur and murderous tendencies. Your fingers twitch with an almost overwhelming desire to run them through his hair. You settle for flicking him in the forehead instead. 

“Don’t be so dramatic. You’re acting like I fled the country rather than go to a club ten minutes away.” You absently brush a stray strand of his hair aside, not thinking much of it. Grimmjow, however, sucks in a sharp breath and you pause as a glint of something flits across his gaze… something intimate. 

A trick of the light, surely. 

 “You–” Speech morphs to muffled protests as you press a hand to Grimmjow’s mouth, effectively cutting off whatever he was going to say. 

“You still owe me some answers,” you remark.

“Mmm… to what?” He’s getting sleepier; the lull in his voice is a clear indication. Warmth blooms across your skin as Grimmjow droops forward and nestles his head into the crook of your shoulder, leaning into you as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

“How about why you ruined my perfectly good night out?” You feel his head turn, breath hot like coals against your neck. A chill shoots down your spine at the slight contact, and you ignore the tingling sensation in your stomach that feels an awful lot like butterflies—millions and millions of them. 

He scowls. “What, you’re that upset over not seeing lover boy again?” His arms tighten around you, “You could’ve had a better night with me. Here. Like this.” 

You draw in a sharp breath as his forehead meets yours. Space is a minuscule concept now as his face hovers mere centimetres from yours. Your mind swims with a torrent of mixed feelings and thoughts. 

“Grimmjow…”

“I’m sorry.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“For what I said. I didn’t mean it—any of it. Swear on my life.” His voice is strained, as if not used to the taste of those words on his tongue. 

You want to believe him, truly. But the emotional, irrational side of you forsakes that possibility. 

You’re nothing special. 

The knife in your heart, previously forgotten, now twists again as you recall his words. For a brief second, you wonder if it would be better to feel nothing at all. To bear an empty chest, much like the hollow hole carved into the Arrancars. Perhaps that’s what you need—to lose your heart and live as they do, void of all sensations that make up human nature. 

“It’s fine, Grimmjow. You don’t… experience things like I do. It’s not your fault I got upset over such a trivial matter,” you sigh. 

He pulls back, something akin to guilt and shock shuttering across his handsome face. “So I did hurt you.”

You swallow, unsure how to face this new vulnerability of his. 

“Tell me how to fix this. How to fix us,” he pleads.

“There is no us,” you say. The distance between you and Grimmjow is practically nonexistent, yet you find yourself unable to face him. 

“Bullshit,” he spits. 

You shake your head, a migraine already forming in its center. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Grimmjow. I can never seem to understand what you want!” Your anger rises with each sentence, but you don’t stop and let the emotion fuel you, “I saw us as friends. Best friends. But then you go and act like I’m nothing to you, only to turn around and get all pissy like a fucking cat marking its territory when I dare spend my night with someone who isn’t you. So for the love of god, what do you want from me?!”

“I want you.”

Your head snaps up. “What?”

“Next to me, in my bed in the morning, in my arms. Wherever I am, whenever it is… I want you with me,” he states plainly. Too casual, acting as if he didn’t just drop the biggest bomb on you, wiping every semblance of your anger away with pure, unbridled shock. 

You ignore your racing pulse and focus on the intensity of his gaze instead. “You don’t believe in romance. You told me that.”

“I didn’t believe in many things before I met you.” He presses a searing kiss to the inside of your palm before leaning into it, your touch a familiar comfort. 

“Like what?”

Heaven. Home. Love, probably.

He grunts. “Secret.”

“That’s not fair,” you tease. The hope rising within you gives way to giddiness and a whole new sensation: relief. 

Grimmjow wants you the same way you want him. Perhaps even more so. 

“What’s not fair is being iced out for a whole day while waiting for you, only to witness that thing wrapped around you like some fucking parasite.”

“He was not a parasite.”

“Looked like one to me. Ugly. Small. Easy to step on.”

“You called me a bug earlier. Doesn’t that mean we’re meant to be?” You’re torturing him at this point. It's incredibly amusing. 

Grimmjow’s eyes darken. Two slits of obsidian that burn with jealousy and something else under the surface. Something even more dangerous. 

“Say that again.”

You only laugh. It is a light sound that eases the tension in both the air and Grimmjow’s shoulders. He’s missed your laugh—craves it more than a drowning man would for air. 

After a few seconds longer, he inevitably feels his lips pull upwards into a crooked smile—a special kind that appears solely in your presence. 

Your giggles falter into a faint smile when you notice Grimmjow smirking at you. He absently draws circles on your hip with his fingers, lazily tracing the curve of your back as you ask: “What exactly are we?”

“Dunno,” he half-mumbles, too preoccupied with snuggling into your neck. 

You let out a soft chuckle as his hair tickles your cheek. “Grimmjow.”

He groans, the sound reverberating against the skin of your collarbone—the place his mouth presses against. ”Does it matter? You’re mine. I’m yours. All I care about.”

“This won’t be easy,” you say. 

“Yeah, well, I signed up for you, which is anything but easy. So don’t worry,” he pulls back slightly so that you’re both face to face. “I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You barely register Grimmjow’s words before he leans in and roughly kisses you. 

And it is the best damn kiss of your life. 

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