#i keep seeing people in a real fucked up way ask for a dollar and getting paid dust

[thottybrucewayne]

The fact that I see folks up here constantly being disrespected and called slurs for asking for financial help but the girlies being called losers for giving money to the same website that allows marginalized people to be harrassed are pitching a fit over being blocked and made fun of is hilarious.

"What do you expect us to do? It was a gag we just wanted to have fun and you're bullying us and guilt tripping us, what do you want from us?"

Drop your links below, dm me your dono posts and I'll reblog them

I'm tired of this shit

#thotty speaks #if i wasnt broke as shit id be dropping stacks on people's gfm and posts #this shit is so aggravating #i keep seeing people in a real fucked up way ask for a dollar and getting paid dust #yall do nothing but pay lip service to the suffering of poc and trans people #you scroll on by and dont even hit rb #thotty rants

[sm-baby]

I want to see all the carnival AU bios again, but finding Zooble's is too hard, even when using the search. I hope there's a more organized way to view them.

(Trying to come up with nicknames that said characters would give my characters.)

CARNIVAL AU MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES

Augh... I never know how to organize stuff! But here is a mini master post of the TADC Info Cards (edited):

The Main Cast (Minus Zooble :C)

Zooble ( Plus Zooble!!! :3)

Shiny Cards ✨

Lesser AI

THE GLOINKS!!!

Level layout

OFFICIAL COMIC:

The Entire Comic has also been dubbed by @volticglitch !! If you're not a reader, You can watch their dubs instead!! Here is the dub

Your best friend!

Jesterly duties

The hallway

Crying

First clue

Special event!

Foul language - a silly

CONCEPT ART:

Characters Relationship Chart ( Bonus, OC relationship Chart!)

The Tent

The Funhouse

Cutscene

Pomni expressions

Character design

Meet Pomni

ALT character skins (Bonus, Maid skins because of course I did)

Pomni expressions AGAIN!!! (and a bonus)

The Jester's Circus tent (and a bonus)

References

Shape language ramble

LOREEE:

Neck pieces

Neck pieces (prt 2)

Neck pieces (prt 3)

Silly Frilly

Toxic Positivity Duo

Quick Ragatha Doodle

The Rabbit

Non-sentient Pomni

Pity Laugh

First act of violence

First and only visit

DOODLE DUMPS:

First look

Meet Jax

Meet Ragatha

Meet Kinger

Meet Able

Zooble's room

Theatre shinanigans

Thanks for listening

Jax Doodles

Ragatha doodles (Feat. Kaufmo)

Caine doodles

Queenie?

Colored doodles

Eye popping

Jax Ko-fi request!

SILLIES:

Final boss Pomni Theory

Ofcourse you would

Shoulder Pads

test

omg showtime teeheeh ehehehe

CUTIES!!!

MORE SHOWTIME (HAVE I REALLY NOT ADDED THIS IN BEFORE??)

Carnival AU meets Original

its ok she's not drowning

The Amazing Digital... Circus???

A Christmas Carol Play!

Carnival Freakshow AU Merge!! (Freakshow AU by @hootbon)

BUZZBUZZ!! Fan character by @awful-little-goose

Whore Pomni Inside joke - more slutshaming

Pomni where yo pants at

shitpost doodles

SCANDAL!!

SCANDAL!! (alt)

Genderbend time!!

Stupid fucking doodles i made at like 11 pm

Stupid fucking doodles i made at like 11 pm (I dont know why I keep making these ToT)

stupid shinanigans involving Pomni's tent (Pomni's tent for context)

POMNI LET GO OF HIM!!!!!!!!

BUBBLE DAMN

Please hear her out guys

Kinger with no robe!!!

Bunnydoll real?!?!!?(Kofi request by amazing people :3)

Genderbend Jax!

Dollar store Carnival AU

Gangle simping over Able slay - Gangle PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER

Carnival GAINE!! - bro's so strong and cool and awesome

Flirty non-sentient pomni Inside joke (TW For suggestive themes): NON-CANON

Start

Context

Flirty non-sentient pomni (shitpost)

Pomni..........

Memory storage restart

the silly!!

no you're not.

oh god

someone paid me 10 bucks

SOMEONE PAID ME MORE MONEY

╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES/FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗

"Can I make OCs In Carnival?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay, just be sure to warn and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - Yes and please show me!! that would be lovely!! " Can I dub/voice your stuff?" - Yes but, I have only one rule... show me pleaaasseeee pls pls pls 🥺🙏 " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Aughh.. this is gonna suck to explain cuz its a lot to ask.. You're allowed to ship any ship! My only boundary is that it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine being with others who are not eachother! For example: Ragatha x Jax ✅ Pomni x Jax❌ Kinger x Queenie✅ Kinger x Caine❌ As long as the ship does not include Pomni or Caine individually, I'm all aboard!! I respect Jax x Pomni shippers, as well as Kinger x caine shippers, I just don't like them myself and don't want to accidentally stumble upon them in the tag! I do apologize if that's a lot, it just makes me uncomfy! Bounderies can be very tight! :')

#The amazing digital circus #the amazing digital carnival #carnival au #pomni #caine #zooble #gangle #kinger #Ragatha #Jax #tadc #tadc fanart #the amazing digital circus fanart #queenie #kaufmo #able

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 12

Part 11

@spectrum-spectre before you say anything, there's no smut in this one so go to sleep and read it at a more reasonable hour

In Eddie's fantasy world, he took off in a plane with Steve, escorted him back to Indiana, dropped him off at the door of the home he'd be staying at, giving him a very thorough scenting before letting him go.

But Eddie had work to take care of and Steve said he would be fine. And Eddie had gotten the hang of figuring out when Steve meant what he said. It wasn't hard. Whenever he wanted to be spoiled, he put that bratty lilt to his voice. They parted ways, Eddie having rubbed himself all over Steve before they exited the car, then again before getting to the check out counter.

Eddie was avoiding notice by wearing his hair in a braided bun and big sunglasses. He insisted on getting Steve a first class ticket. It was the only way to keep too many people from rubbing against him and thus making his scent fade sooner.

"Don't miss me too much", Eddie teased, looking over the rim of his shades.

Steve wrapped his arms around his neck. "I already do, Daddy", he whispered. He kissed him and then murmured against his lips. "Can't stop thinking about it. In less than ten days..."

Eddie put his hands to Steve's waist. He couldn't wait either. They'd be reuniting for Steve's heat. But they weren't coming back together just for that. While Steve was pretty regular and was 99% it would come when he said it did, Eddie would have Steve on the first jet to Texas on January 1st.

Steve thoroughly enjoyed the luxury of first class and landed back home with less than half the stress of a normal plane flight. Eddie had been a little zealous in spending on him sometimes, and it reflected in how much money he sent to Steve so that he could get a ride at the airport. Steve had specifically told him that Lucas could have picked him up and then he'd be with family for the rest of the time.

Eddie must've heard something different because when Steve checked his venmo, he was several hundred dollars richer. When Lucas picked him up, he decided that money could be well spent doing some last minute shopping.

"You know, I'm actually kind of relieved", Lucas said as they packed the last of the stuff into his trunk.

"Why?", Steve asked.

"I thought when you started being a sugar baby and junk you'd turn into a different person. But you're still Steve."

Steve smiled. "Didn't go through a name change last I checked."

"You know what I mean. You were still cursing out the ref at the game back in DC. And you got Robin a mug with a weird picture, not like a diamond encrusted dog bowl or something."

"She's gonna love the mug more than that. And the ref had his blinders on for the whole first half."

Steve didn't realize how relieved he was to hear that though, that he had retained the real parts of himself even though he felt completely changed by Eddie. Would he start to change in time? How long would it take? His reverie was broken when Lucas pulled into the driveway of his home.

"Okay, so Dustin told my parents you were seeing someone and Mike told them it was someone famous but they don't know it's Eddie Munson."

Steve felt his stomach drop. "Do they know that I'm?"

Lucas shook his head. "You get to tell them that."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me", Steve groaned.

The last thing he wanted to tell the people who helped him through the final years of high school and the first couple of college was that he was getting dicked down by a celebrity and was falling for him too. The Sinclairs were more like his parents than his actual mom and dad.

They didn't hold back either, bringing it up the moment he entered and they got their hugs.

"Dustin told us you're seeing someone?", Mrs. Sinclair said.

Steve snuck an ear twist as Dustin walked by with a grin, one that the Sinclairs definitely noticed but let him get away with. He had to be honest not just because of how important they were, but because they'd find out everything sooner or later. New traveled fast online and he was honestly surprised they didn't know more already.

"I met him one night at a bar. He covered my dinner when I was a little short", Steve said as his hands were kept busy helping with the food preparation.

"Sounds like a gentleman", Mr. Sinclair said.

Lucas and his friends were sitting in the living room, which Steve was thankful for. He knew they'd want to spill every last bean. He got away with giving them minimal info: Eddie's first name, the fact he was a musician, an alpha, and that they'd been on a few dates.

That night, he cornered Dustin and Mike and made them swear to keep their mouths shut about anything else.

"Lucas got basketball tickets. We should get something to", Mike said.

"How's about you don't get a tanned hide?", Steve offered, eyes hard.

Christmas went as usual, Steve spent the day of and day after in the Sinclair home, then returned to his own apartment where Robin was already waiting to celebrate New Years. He didn't get two feet into the door before she was feeling his stomach.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not-"

"But you could be. I know you and your cumslut tendencies. So I know you're not making him wrap it up."

"But I'm still taking my birth control", Steve said.

"You just know that if you get knocked up I'll have no choice but to move back in with you and help you raise this pup", Robin said.

"There is no pup. And I wouldn't make you do that."

"I would though. For you", she promised.

"I know Robs. That's why I'm not gonna let it happen. If I wanna have his baby, you'll get a six month notice before we conceive."

"Thank you for that."

They spent December 31st ordering take out from three different places and binging Empire. When it got to the time for real festivities to begin, they turned the tv to where Eddie said he was going to be performing.

"So that's your beau. He's not bad", Robin complimented. "How's the rest of the band?"

"They're great. I think you and Jeff would really get along. He's actually really into brass instruments too. And Gareth knows a bunch of nerd languages."

"You mean like Klingon and Elvish?"

"And apparently he's learning Atlantean."

Midnight came and Steve kissed her forehead and Robin kissed his cheek.

--------------------

The next day, he was packed and ready to hop on his flight. Robin dropped him off and hugged him tight enough to hold him over until the next time they met. His ticket was first class again and when he landed in Austin, he was already feeling a tingling under his skin. He missed his alpha. Need his scent, his touch, the rumble of his voice.

Because of this, while he loved the other CC boys, he was a little disappointed to see them awaiting his arrival and not Eddie.

"The Ed-man had to finish something in the studio last minute", Gareth explained as they led Steve to the car.

"Thanks for picking me up, guys", Steve certainly preferred them over a stranger from Uber.

Grant drove the way back, taking them to a mansion that had Steve's jaw dropping. He was no stranger to big houses, but he was used to them being simply for status. They'd been grand but sterile, devoid of any personality. The moment Steve stepped in, he could see that wasn't true for this place. He could pick out each of the resident's scents, could see each of their quirks as he was given a tour of the place.

They saved Eddie's room for last and he found out when Eddie barreled down the hallway to meet them at his door.

"They're really good pack", Steve said as Jeff, Grant, and Gareth left the two of them alone.

"I knew I could trust them with you." Then Eddie kissed him about six times. "For all the missed mistletoe." Then again. "For New Year's."

Steve laughed against his lips. "You gonna show me the bedroom anytime soon? I'd love to lie down, Daddy."

Eddie bit his lip, looking nervous all of a sudden as he slowly opened the door. Steve wanted to take in everything. After all, a bedroom could tell you a lot about a person. But his attention was immediately grabbed by the bed situation and what was sitting on the bench in front of it. There was a thin quilt turning it into a canopy bed, much like the den Eddie had made in their hotel room back in New York.

Steve recognized the pattern from what he'd heard before. Jeff's handiwork. And by the foot of the bed was a small bench where a collection of clothes sat. Steve went right to them and took a whiff of the first shirt. It was so undeniably Eddie, he would have thought his neck was pressed to his nose were he not still by the door.

Then he picked up a tank top and caught notes of lemon and ginger. "Are these...?"

"I tried to scent a lot of stuff before you got here, the boys helped out too. I hope that was okay?" His hands were stuck in his pockets and his back was tensed like he might run.

"It's more than okay", Steve reassured him.

"And the den? You like it? I can always change it if you don't. We've got tons of linens here, all that can be scented in a moment's notice and-"

"Eddie", Steve put a hand to his arm. "It's great. Now...", he held up one of the garments. "Help me nest?"

Eddie swallowed and nodded. He followed Steve's lead as they arranged everything on the bed for maximum comfort. Once Steve was satisfied, he sank down into it, smirking when he saw the way Eddie gingerly lied down next to him.

"Your first time doing a heat?", Steve asked.

"I've been around omegas in heat before. Just not as the uh, let's say star alpha", Eddie admitted.

Steve turned so his back was against Eddie's chest and pulled his arm over him. It took Eddie a moment, but he got comfortable and melted against his body. The exhaustion from the flight and being up for hours finally got to him and Steve closed his eyes.

When he opened them hours later, his body was warm and he felt a wetness between his legs.

Part 13

Tag Team CLOSED

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx   @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck  @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @greatwerewolfbeliever @chaosgremlinmunson @blackpanzy @millseyes-world @batxsignalsx @lilpomelito @goosesister @libraryofgage @aresthelostboy @royjaimie4eva @silenzioperso @she-collects-smut @lost-wondering-souls @eddielives1986 @marklee-blackmore

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #omegaverse #a/b/o #i literally checked the clock b4 posting #bc i know now i have the uncanny ability to post smut #and therefore keep specs up at all hours of the night #but this time there's no smut so haha! #there will be a healthy dose of debauchery in the next one tho

[potchi-fics]

8 ball

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Bada and Y/n, for some reason, hate each others guts-- the two try and beat one another whenever they're in the same room. but what happens when the tension transforms into... something else? NOTE: there may be suggestive themes, or even full on nsfw🔞🔞.. i just wanted to give you all a heads up

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Y/n, one of the it girls on the campus. she has everything: money, money, good looks.. everything. one thing about her is she's not the innocent girl you think she looks. oh, no, she's a woman who will do anything to get her way, no matter what.

Bada, like Y/n, one of the it girls. she, too, has everything Y/n has. but she's a player-- she doesn't, or rather, won't care about your feelings. she oozes fuck girl energy.

and they both hate loathe each other.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Y/n and her friends are playing billiards, talking to one another happily, discussing about their stressing college life when Noze changes the topic to Y/n.

"so Y/n," dragging out the first word, "any updates on your love life?"

"please," Aiki snorts, "Y/n? love life? don't even bother-- ah shit!" by the looks of it, the cue ball fell in the corner pocket.

Y/n rolls her eyes playfully, "you're talking as if i'm not here, eh? and besides, i just haven't found my match." she pouts.

"oh, trust me," Monika quips remarks, "you have. by the way, you suck at this, Aiki."

the three only shared knowing looks while Y/n looks at them in confusion. she was about to ask what she meant when they hear a set of people take their place beside them.

Y/n face distorts into annoyance, only crossing her legs and staring at the other table.

"miss me?"

Bada.

She scoffs, "as if."

Bada confidently strolls to her, ignoring the group. "oh c'mon, i know you do."

"talking nonsense, baby," the petname only making Bada smirk, "you're self-projecting onto me.. you're being so obvious, Bada." Y/n's honey like voice tease her.

their moment gets ruined as they hear Chocol's voice from the other table. Bada winks at Y/n, and she gave her a flying kiss as a reply. Y/n looks back at her friends and they all stare with their eye brows raised.

"what?"

"nothing.." Monika answered.

Y/n grumbles. "what is it? tell me? and why does Bada have to choose a table beside us? there's like, plenty other tables."

Aiki and Noze shakes their head at her, "stop grumbling, you look like a baby. let's play!"

minutes pass by and her were all enjoying their stay; making jabs at each other whenever a shot doesn't work out. what Y/n doesn't notice is Bada throwing looks at her every 5 minutes.

"dude, stop staring at her." Haechi pokes fun at her, "we know you're in love and all, but seriously, play."

"i'm not in love with her," Bada denies. "stop saying that."

her friends only hums, resulting another comment from her.

"i'm being for real right now," Bada throws up a middle finger, "it's just so fun annoying her."

Chocol mumbles out, "yeah, that's how my grandpa and grandma met."

"oh, fuck off, Chocs." Bada groans while Haechi laughs her ass off.

a moment later and a woman walks in the place, she marches to where Bada's table is.

"oh! Redlic?" Chocs seem surprised.

Redlic clings to Bada, not even batting an eye to Chocol-- making Haechi and Chocol roll their eyes secretly.

"i missed you, baby." Redlic states, hugging Bada tighter.

Bada separates herself from her, "stop calling me that. you know i hate being called those."

"but if it's Y/n, you don't complain.."

"real, real."

hushed whispers from Bada's friends made her roll her eyes.

going back to Y/n and she is fuming. she hates that that woman keeps clinging to Bada. her stare was so intense that it looks like she's burning holes at the back of their head.

"relax, no one's gonna take your baby away from you," Aiki prods, "why so angry?"

she only roll her eyes and clicks her tongue, trying to focus her attention on the pool. "i'm not."

"enemies to lovers, 'm betting twenty-five dollars on that." Aiki added.

you did try to play, but you see that woman clinging to Bada in the corner of your eye, distracting you.

Noze stares at you in amusement, "how come you're still great at this even though you're distracted?"

"'cus sixty-five percent of her life revolves around this place," Monika remarks.

"then money, grades, coffee, and lastly.." Noze side eyes the other table, "Bada."

hitting the cue ball rather harshly, "you guys are crazy." she rubs the chalk cube against the tip of her cue, "my life does not revolve around her."

"it kinda does."

she only rolled her eyes for the millionth time today. before being able to strike the eight ball, Chocol comes over.

"hey, y/n," she raises her eyebrows at Chocol, "you wanna play against Redlic? the woman beside Bada. there's a bet going on right now, and you know.."

guess now you know her name.

"absolutely," Aiki answered for her.

Chocol nods her head and goes back.

Y/n hits Aiki's shoulder, "you didn't even give me time to think?"

"c'mon, don't you wanna beat Redlic?" her friend whines, "also, i wanna join the bet, so let's go."

Aiki drags them all to where a crowd is forming. she clicks her tongue once more, seeing how Redlic arm's wrapped around Bada's.

"you're the one playing against me?" Redlic cockily questioned.

Y/n simply nods, "yep."

"prepare to lose."

all Y/n could think was, is that all she can do?

Y/n shrugs, "we're wastin' everybody's time here, considering i'm only practicing."

Aiki shouts, "that's my chicken."

"that's right, i raised you like that!" Monika throws out.

and she sees Noze laughing and filming the whole thing. she also sees Redlic's face morph into irritation.

"you go first, i insist." Y/n comments, staring at Bada deviously at the end of her sentence.

Redlic is doing surprisingly well, knocking every ball she hits down the pockets. not forgetting to take shots at Y/n who only smiled and whistled. but on her third to the last ball, she missed.

"aww," she coos, her eyes drifting to Bada as she fixes the table. "that sucks."

Y/n winks at Bada, getting a smirk in response.

now, it was her time to show off. with every hit, every ball-- she mesmerised everybody watching, even Bada. with every ball that she puts in, fuels Bada.

down with the last ball-- the eight ball. she positions herself and fortunately, it was in directly in front of Bada. she bends over, not even caring that other people were seeing them. all she cares, right now, is to make Bada lose herself.

Bada's teeth sinks into her lower lip, her eyes roaming Y/n's body. she was so busy gawking at her that she doesn't hear the crowd exclaiming as Y/n won. hell, she doesn't even notice Redlic storming out of the place.

the crowd disperse but Y/n turns around to face her. she sees Y/n sit on the pool table, beckoning her over.

"enjoyed my show?" she let Bada go between her legs.

Bada puts her hands on the girl's hips, putting her face dangerously close to Y/n. "mhm.."

the air around them suddenly becomes thick, tension building up rapidly. Y/n's fingers massages Bada's nape and her thumb swiping Bada's lower lip.

her eyes lowers down to Y/n lips, "i loved it." she whispers.

"i can tell, baby."

slowly, Y/n pulls Bada towards her, and Bada lets her. just when their lips are about to touch, Y/n pulls back. Bada tries to chase her lips but she stops her.

"not yet," she murmured.

Bada breathed, "baby, why?"

"'cus i want to torture you." she kisses Bada's neck before pushing her away gently and walking to where her friends are.

Bada stares at you stunned as you saunter back to where your friends are because that's the first time that has happened to her.

"better luck next time, boss." Chocol pats her back.

Haechi snickers, "looks like you're the one who's gonna do the chasing."

deep down, she's more than okay with that.

ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻ੈ✩‧₊˚

OPS OPSS🤚 no nsfw yet hehe hope you all enjoy

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

#imagines #oneshots #writing #bada lee #bada x reader #fanfic #female reader #fiction #swf 2 #swf2 x reader #street woman fighter 2

[nappingpaperclip]

“People who tell you not to vote Biden are psyops trying to steal left votes” type posts are pro-government propoganda.

Last time y’all spread that bullshit around the blogs getting deleted for being “Russian spies” were black leftists.

NOT EVERYONE WHO DISAGREES WITH YOU IS A PSYOP. Get real!!

Not everyone who criticizes Biden or says they won’t be voting for a genocider and that you shouldn’t either wants you to vote for Trump or not vote!! Third party candidates exist!!! Write ins exist!!! If we actually organized instead of y’all pulling the “lesser evil” bs about a GENOCIDAL RACIST RAPIST OLD MAN we might actually see some fuckin progress!!

Did y’all forget Biden is a rapist?????

Btw is the “left” in the room with us? Where is the left? Where is the progress y’all keep claiming Biden is making?

Last time I checked Biden has not let those kids out of cages, has personally approved more huge pipelines that run through Indigenous lands and speed up climate change, has ex-BlackRock leaders (yknow, the top 10 climate change villains company who also funds most American private prisons as well as funding arms manufacturing companies, who spend millions lobbying politicians on environmental regulations, immigration and drug policy) in his cabinet, increased police and military budget, didn’t codify Roe v Wade, in fact he held it hostage for votes, hasn’t codified gay marriage or trans rights, hasn’t legalized marijuana, hasn’t raised the federal minimum wage, oh and also is DOING GENOCIDE in case y’all forgot or wanna tiptoe around the “some bad policies” y’all always talk about

Did y’all forget about his “nothing will fundamentally change” policy?

Y’all heard that and thought “left”?? Babes he’s a right leaning centrist AT BEST.

There are actually left candidates btw! Ones who care about things like Landback and reparations and free healthcare and education and sustainability! The ones y’all are telling people are throwaway votes/votes for Trump!! (Which isn’t even how the electoral college works btw)

So us telling y’all not to vote for a genocider makes us Russian psyop spies but y’all telling us not to vote for leftist third party candidates doesn’t? K.

Vote for who you want, I don’t give a fuck anymore, BUT DONT TELL HIM HE STILL HAS YOUR UNCONDITIONAL SUPPORT WHILE HES COMMITTING GENOCIDE IF YOU ACTUALLY WANT HIM TO STOP

The only way to get a politician to stop doing WAR CRIMES is to tell them you won’t vote for them or give them money or otherwise support them until they stop!

You can fucking lie if you want!!! All we’re asking is for y’all not to publicly announce Genocide Joe still has your unconditional support WHILE HES DOING GENOCIDE

His approval ratings are literally less than Trumps!

He has no one to blame but himself.

If he loses in November, I don’t want to hear y’all bitch and moan and blame black people or disillusioned voters or third party voters or “Russian spies” again like y’all did in 2016, I don’t want to see y’all blame anyone but him, BLAME BIDEN FOR HIS OWN ACTIONS. HE IS A GROWN MAN AND HAS THE MONEY AND POWER TO STOP IT IF HE ACTUALLY WANTED TO.

Y’all keep saying he’s doing his best to stop it, that he’s working behind the scenes, that he’s trying, IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE STILL SENDING ISRAEL MONEY?

IF HE IS TRYING, WHY DID HE SEND ISRAEL MILLIONS OF DOLLARS IN SMALL PAYMENTS TO AVOID NOTIFYING CONGRESS?

IF HES TRYING WHY HAVE WE NOT SANCTIONED ISRAEL?

IF HES TRYING, WHY HAVE US SOLDIERS BEEN SEEN FIGHTING ALONGSIDE THE IDF?

IF HES TRYING WHY ARE WE SENDING EXPIRED MREs AS AID? EXPIRED FOOD DROPS THAT ARE NOT ENOUGH TO FEED MILLIONS OF STARVING PEOPLE, WITH FAULTY PARACHUTES THAT KILL CHILDREN?

IF HES TRYING, WHY DID WE BUILD A PORT CUTTING THE GAZA STRIP IN HALF, A PORT THAT NETANYAHU SAID WOULD BE USED TO DEPORT PALESTINIANS?

IF HES TRYING WHY DID HE SIGN OFF $14 BILLION FUCKING DOLLARS ON TOP OF THE ANNUAL CONTRACT AND SMALL SECRET PAYMENTS TO GO TOWARDS ISRAELS BOMBS AND GUNS AND FREE HEALTHCARE WHILE IGNORING THE PEOPLE HERE WHO NEED FOOD, HOUSES, AND HEALTHCARE???

DONT MAKE UP RUSSIAN SPIES TO POINT FINGERS AT! IF HE DOESNT WANT TO LOSE HE SHOULDNT DO GENOCIDE

IF GENOCIDE JOE LOSES THE ELECTION FUCKING BLAME HIM FOR DOING A GENOCIDE!!

#FUCK YALL FR #racist white liberals are no fucking better than the alt right. YALL WOULDNT PISS ON ME IF I WAS ON FIRE!!! #‘what about trans people’ WHAT ABOUT MY TRANS SISTER WHOS HOMELESS? WHAT ABOUT MY TRANS FRIENDS IN FLORIDA LOSING THEIR RIGHTS??? #YEA CAUSE THINGS HAVE BEEN GOING SOOO WELL FOR TRANS PEOPLE! tell me you live in fucking California or New York without telling me!!! #ATP JUST SAY YOU DONT FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE GENOCIDE CAUSE IT DOESNT EFFECT YOU CAUSE WE ALL KNOW THATS WHAT YALL MEAN!!!! #.txt #Joe Biden #us politics #genocide Joe #Palestine #free Palestine #vote blue #vote blue no matter who

[my-hyperfixation-hell]

I've been getting a lot of those scam asks from people pretending to be Palestinian asking for money. And every time, I do a little poking hoping that maybe, for once, it's a genuine person and not some scum of the earth asshole.

It never is. It's always the scum of the earth asshole who thinks they can profit off genocide. Every single dollar they fool someone into donating is another dollar that same person won't donate to Gaza. We all have limits on how much we can spend, so it's very harmful for a cause that needs so much money to keep having said potential revenue drained away by these absolute fucks.

Not to mention the sheer inhumanity it takes to see a genocide ongoing and think, "Hey, I could profit off that!", and then go forward with it

Anyway, all this to say, make sure you look into every ask you get requesting your donations. Some usual signs they're fakes are these;

There's no posts on the account, or, if there are any, they're ALL reblogs of other people's content. I see a lot of these blogs reblog a ton of pro-Palestinian content, which is disgusting. But if you scroll all the way down, there's typically nothing before that, because these aren't real tumblr users.

Reverse-search the images they provide of themselves/their situation. Usually, these are taken right off the Gofundme of a real Palestinian person.

Type their blog name into the search bar on tumblr. If someone else has made a post exposing this person as a scam, this will bring them up.

Hope this helps!

#palestine #free palestine #gaza #free gaza #jerusalem #current events #gofundme #donation #donations #scams #scam #donation scam #scam alert #fundraiser #fundraiser scam #paypal #venmo

[radiofreederry]

US Presidents as Dril Tweets

George Washington: another day volunteering at the betsy ross museum. everyone keeps asking me if they can fuck the flag. buddy, they wont even let me fuck it

John Adams: "ah boo hoo hoo i want to post Foul comments to content leaders" Fat Chance, Dimwit. I will annihilate you under bulwark of the Law and God.

Thomas Jefferson: Q: If your post was proven by a counsil of wise men to be racist, or bullshit, would you bar it from the record? A: I do not delete my posts

James Madison: (sniffing a crumpled up one dollar bill i found on the floor of a dog kennel) ah.. thats greenbacks baby

James Monroe: for decades i have traversed the unforgiving mountains and rivers of south america, hoping to catch a glimpse of the fabled "ass downloader"

John Quincy Adams: "This Whole Thing Smacks Of Gender," i holler as i overturn my uncle's barbeque grill and turn the 4th of July into the 4th of Shit

Andrew Jackson: handing Faves over to my enemies is FRAUD !! base, contemptible FRAUD!

Martin Van Buren: Food $200

Data $150

Rent $800

Candles $3,600

Utility $150

someone who is good at the economy please help me budget this. my family is dying

William Henry Harrison: (spends all of 7 seconds skimming some blog posts) yep. just as i knew all along. having pnuamonia is good

John Tyler: fuck "jokes". everything i tweet is real. raw insight without the horse shit. no, i will NOT follow trolls. twitter dot com. i live for this

James K. Polk: thhere is no such thing as charisma, and art is fake. the only metrics by which we must determine the worth of a man are Strength and Wisdom

Zachary Taylor: the doctor reveals my blood pressure is 420 over 69. i hoot & holler outta the building while a bunch of losers tell me that im dying

Millard Fillmore: trying to heal..... please donate to my go fund me... $10 will make me less racist... $100 will make me extremely less racist...thank you...

Franklin Pierce: blocked. blocked. blocked. youre all blocked. none of you are free of sin

James Buchanan: #NationalGirlfriendDay please cherish your gal's.. in honor of us, the single Boys who must sacrifice all companionship to #CarryTheBrand...

Abraham Lincoln: unloading an entire belt of ammo at me with a minigun or some such device will now get you "Blocked"

Andrew Johnson: who the fuck is scraeming "LOG OFF" at my house. show yourself, coward. i will never log off

Ulysses S. Grant: i regret being tasked the emotional burden of maintaining the final bastion of morality and Nice manners in this endless ocean of human SHIT

Rutherford B. Hayes: using the toilet when i hear Our national anthem start to play. i do what i must. i stand tall in complete agony; as shit runs down my leg,

James A. Garfield: too much truth in such little time. feeling the heat cominh down to silence me... signing off........ for now

Chester A. Arthur: i WILL wise the fuck up. i WILL super charge my content for 2017. i WILL get blue check mark

Grover Cleveland: the way i see it, people who come on here and submit content that is not up to par, could possibly be considered the "Villains" of this site

Benjamin Harrison: i help every body, im not racist, i keep myself nice, and when i ask for a single re-tweet in return i am told to fuck off, fuck myself, etc

William McKinley: boy oh boy do i love purchasing large amounnts of Fool's Gold. wait a minute... fools gold fucking sucks. this stuff is no good..!! Fuck !!!

Theodore Roosevelt: IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL

William H. Taft: ah.. the perfect Souffle! cant wait to dig in to t(*EVERY PIPE IN MY HOUSE EXPLODES AT THE SAME TIME, COVERING ME IN SHIT AND BOILING WATER*

Woodrow Wilson: the conflicted supersoldier stares over the horizon as he smokes a cigarette. "war is the most fucked up thing ever." he takes a sip of beer

Warren G. Harding: somebody please Bribe me

Calvin Coolidge: aggressively joyless oaf hhere. painfully obnoxious respect demander checkign in. extremely dim witted frowning man looking for pals

Herbert Hoover: it is really quite astonishing that I have yet to win The Lottery, given how good I am at selecting six numbers and saying them out loud

Franklin D. Roosevelt: ive never heard of this “europe” but it sounds like a big bunch of shit to me

Harry Truman: everybody wants to be the guy to write the tweet that solves racism once and for all because it would look good as hell on a resume

Dwight D. Eisenhower: my "F*&k It!! Let's Go Golfin" t-shirt maintains a tenacious stranglehold on my life. after 1,125 days of Golf my body is twisted, deformed

John F. Kennedy: when you do sutuff like... shoot my jaw clean off of my face with a sniper rifle, it mostly reflects poorly on your self

Lyndon B. Johnson: incredibly handsome , charismatic famous boy credited with ending income inequality after saying that slumlords should be called "dumblords"

Richard Nixon: i attribute the complete failure of my brand to the actions of detractors, oor my “trolls”, as it were, as well as my own constant fuckups

Gerald Ford: shutting computer down until the shitty moods & attitudes can fuck off., if you need me ill be on my other computer, sititng 60° to my right

Jimmy Carter: i warnned you all that bad things would happen if you kept letting your wives wear jeans. AND NOW LOOK! the damn gas prices are up again

Ronald Reagan: spend a lot of time thinking about how sometimes even war criminals can be heroes sometimes... Dont like it? Click the unfollow buttobn

George H.W. Bush: just thought off an idea i believe to be bad ass. lets find the address of the leader of isis, and mail him/ her pieces of our SHIT

Bill Clinton: were at the point now, that when i offer to impregnate my girl followers, people assume my motives are sexual. disgusting, grow the fuck up,

George W. Bush: friday night gathering up together a big pile of things i like to respect (flags, crucifixes ,etc) and just roll around in it ,give kisses,

Barack Obama: my IQ has increased 10 points ever since i stopped tollerating people mucking about, on the time line

Donald Trump: THERAPIST: your problem is, that youre perfect, and everyone is jealous of your good posts, and that makes you rightfully upset.

ME: I agree

Joe Biden: I will shut the fuck up , IF , it will restore the Harmony. I will get on my knees like a dog and make that sacrifice, for the sake of Calm

#the classic reborn #my post #long post #dril #history

[hotxcheeto]

Chloe as a mom hc’s pls 🤟🤟🤞🤞 I think the idea is cute

━ 𝐂𝐇𝐋𝐎𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) - Chloe Price x G/N!Reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing?, a lot of fluff y'all I just kept adding to it, slight angst in parts but nothing bad at all, alludes to pregnancy ig? i don't really know?

𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - i love babies sm.. also ty for the request!!

first things first, i don't ever see her actually choosing to mother

but if you have a kid? and she likes you? she also likes your kid

chloe probably meets you later in life, she's matured ( kinda) and explored places she's always wanted and finally she comes across you and that thing.. the little gremlin that's attached to your hip with big eyes and a grand smile

step-father chloe y'all ( nah jk... unless )

she is childish herself and lowkey selfish which is why she for sure questions her parental abilities and never wanted kids young or even at all when she thought about, but you just sprung up and how could she deny herself yours, hers and that little ankle biters happiness

but she's for sure the fun parent, the one that will let your child stay up passed bedtime and eat so much ice cream while watching R rated movies and promising not to tell you

and then you get home, catch them and suddenly everybody getting a time out

including her and probably the cat too

she probably has very loose parenting as well, her main ideas is if there's nothing to rebel against, what's the point in doing the bad stuff?

meaning she is just a very open parent in the sense that she doesn't hide the word from her kids or shelter them, she's honest and let's them choose their own path in life with her soft guidance

and she's just open in general about her opinions on things

you ask? she'll answer, same goes for the little one who has all the questions in the world and she's sure to answer

even if it's 'are unicorns real?'

they sure fucking are kid, and so are leprechauns

speaking of which, her imagination is unreal

remember how she'd play pirates with max? oh yeah, grab your eyepatch, you're in for a long ride with this one

her playtime with baby has lore, bullet point, highlighted text and a few video essays and a whole lot of story telling they have to explain to you

then you have your toddler clapping at you to keep up and chloe trying to throw you into her world of sparkles and sea monsters and you just wanted to know what they wanted for dinner

she's so cool to all of your child's friends as well, she's the cool parent with different colored hair and tats that totally have those prissy moms side eyeing her hard and don't give a single damn

lets them do what they want at your house because they're safe and that's what matters at the end of the day, even if they're getting up to shit in their rooms

if your child wants colored hair she'll get them those fake hair clip ins and temporary die just so they can look more like her and oh my god it's adorable

also the fake tattoos you get at like grocery stores or dollar stores in those machines? your kid will always compare them to mama chloe's or yours if you have tattoos

shows them off and tells people she's matching with her mama

has great bedtime stories

big cuddler too, she's a clinger

when your child is still a baby she just loves to hold them and i mean LOVES too, the baby don't even care about being held chloe just don't wanna put them down

doesn't believe in baby talk

she speaks to her baby like they a grown man and that's it there's not another way

she be talking to it like it understands her while it just stares and drools while giggling because chloe is a very animated and entertaining talker, even you catch yourself listening aimlessly

she loves being and parenting though, even the stresses

sometimes though she feels like she's gonna fail at it but you just have to give her the slight reminder and that she's her fathers and mothers daughter, and they were both was a wonderful people and parents

joyce adores your child, whether you had them before or after chloe, she's in love and spoils them as much as she possibly can

chloe even jokes that joyce loves the kid more than her

which may or may not be true

max also loves them so much, loves taking pictures which actually helps capture a lot of memories free of you freaking out to grab your phone, she never posts them or anything, she actually gives them to most times to keep in the baby book

everybody loves the small human okay

chloe saves so much money up to give you and them the best holdiays ever and birthdays, even if you're struggling with money, she makes it all worth while

handy man of the house as well, will fix toys and put together cribs and bedframes well into the night while you're passed out with your body pillow and noise machine my man

she loves taking care of her family, that's all

but chloe most of all, is both scared and enamored that your little human thinks you and her are the entire world, and she doesn't plan on making that world fall apart like it did for her when her dad passed

yeah, that's not happening

#chloe price x reader #chloe x reader #chloe price #life is strange #life #lis #lis remastered

[southsidestory]

Mickey makes the Kash and Grab his go-to shoplifting spot. Mr. Lewandowski should send Kash a thank you card; that old polack has been trying to run Mickey out of his corner store for the last five years.

Ian works late shifts on Fridays, so he’s the one at the register when Mickey swings by at quarter to midnight. He picks up a can of barbecue Pringles, puts it back. A box of Twinkies, puts it back. A Kit-Kat, puts it back. 

“Where’s the king-size?” Mickey asks.

Ian stares at him flatly. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not letting you steal anything.”

“Sure, you aren’t.” Mickey plants his elbows on the counter. “You ever go home, asswipe? Every time I come in here, you’re stocking shelves or brown-nosing customers or doing some other dumb shit.”

“That’s called working. You might’ve heard of it.”

Mickey swipes his wrist over his mouth to erase his smile. “Sounds like a waste of time to me. There’s a lot easier ways to get money.”

“Oh really?” Ian asks. “Why don’t you educate me.”

Fuck, he’s hot when he smirks like that, all snarky and lopsided.

Mickey looks down so Ian won’t see the truth all over his face. He makes himself laugh and ask, “What, you a vice cop now? Officer Gallagher gonna get me to incriminate myself?”

“Screw that,” Ian says. “Couldn’t pay me a million bucks to be a pig.”

Now it’s easy to laugh for real.

“Guess you’re too good for the police academy, Mr. ROTC.” Mickey picks up a packet of Big Red and turns it between his fingers. “Saving your cherry for the U.S. Army to pop when they fuck you over?”

Ian blushes like gingers always do, pink rushing to fill the white spaces between his freckles. “That’s different. The Army protects us from foreign threats. Police are supposed to protect civilians inside our borders, but they usually go after the people who need the most help.”

“Look at that, Ian Gallagher’s swallowed the military propaganda whole.” Mickey mimes knocking back a shot. “Washed it down with some Kool-Aid, I bet.”

“Look at that, Mickey Milkovich knows the word ‘propaganda.’ That’s like sixteen points in Scrabble before bonuses.” Ian scrunches up his nose. “Course, you’d have to be able to spell it.”

Smug piece of shit.

“I’d also have to be a fucking loser who plays board games,” Mickey says. 

He rips open the Big Red packet, unwraps the foil around a slice, and pops it in his mouth. Cinnamon burns his tongue, but it’s a good heat.

“That’s ninety-five cents,” Ian says.

Mickey chews the gum with his mouth open, as loudly and obnoxiously as he can. “Your math’s off.”

“There’s no math, Mickey. The price is on the label.”

Mickey glances over the torn packet. “Fourteen pieces of gum. Ninety-five cents for all of them. I only ate one, so I owe you seven cents—that’s rounding up, so I’m being real generous here.”

Count those points, asshole.

Mickey pulls all the money out of his coat pocket—a few folded twenties and about two dollars’ worth of coins—and picks out a dime to throw on the counter. It bounces right at Ian, who barely catches it before it goes over the edge.

Mickey leaves the rest of the gum behind, says, “Keep the change,” and walks out smiling.

~ ~ ~

I hope you enjoyed this sneak peak of my Gallavich Season 1 canon-divergent fic, If You Have a Problem! You can find it over at AO3 ❤️

#gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless us #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #my fanfiction #tw xenophobia #mickey milkovich is his own trigger warning

[cyborg-franky]

Hey hey hey Franky! I was thinking of some head canons with Shanks, Mihawk and Ace that they were buying some candy and decorations getting ready for Halloween! <333

Yesss I can do that! I went with Modern AU because Mihawk doesn't need to do shit to be Halloween ready, the man lives in a spooky castle and loks like a vampire haha.

Ace

Ace loves Halloween, it was something he always liked to do with his brothers growing up. He was always the kid that was overly polite or would egg your house depending on your answer to trick or treat.

You didn’t think Ace would be super into getting candy for the kids, he didn’t seem the type but he’s really good with kids even if he doesn’t want them in the future.

Word of advice is don’t let Ace be the one in charge of decorations because he’ll go wild with the fake cobwebs and spiders.

Every inch of your house, porch, and garden will look like fog made of fake webs.

Ace loves carving pumpkins and dressing up with you, and really enjoys making the front garden as scary as he can, he will go over the top, and maybe get a little competitive if someone else in the area is trying to match his standards.

All night you have to slap his hand as he reaches over for the candy in the bowl, which is why every year you have to get a bag just for Ace to keep him from pinching any.

He’s always so excited to see people at the door, handing out candy and grinning ear to ear.

He will, however, be that person that chases people down the road if they are rude or if they threaten to mess up the front of the house. 

Ace is the master of tricks and there aren't any he hasn’t seen or done himself.

SHANKS and MIHAWK under readmore.

Shanks

Far more casual about the entire thing but he enjoys how into you tend to get.

He’ll help you decorate, he’ll be the one that tells you that maybe that’s a little too much babe! But you ignore him anyway because there is no such thing as too much for Halloween and he’s a good enough sport to just go along with it.

He likes to answer the door to people and hand out candy, he gets to pull his fake arm off and make people scream, really leaning into the trick aspect of things. 

But it’s all in good fun and you let him do his thing.

He’s not as creative as you when it comes to decorating or dressing up but he’s happy to help you reach places you can’t get to. 

If he thinks someone is going to be a pain in the ass based on how they say or don’t say thank you for candy he can give them this look that makes them think twice about fucking with your house.

Mihawk

No shitty plastic dollar store Halloween things in his house.

He will get out all the old decorations he’s collected.

You think these are worth hundreds because they are heavy and detailed and you are pretty sure the skull-shaped candy bowl is a real skull acquired from his many years of traveling but you’ve never had the heart or stomach to ask him.

He dresses like a vampire anyway so he just puts on some fake fangs and looms in the doorway while you open the door to others, saying nothing as he peers down his nose at those grabbing candy.

No one messes with your house, and no one wants to risk getting a curse from Mihawk, his eccentric ways have given him a spooky rep which you find funny and you have to really hand it to the people who pluck up the nerve to come to knock on his spooky house on Halloween.

Everything looks like it’s out of an old movie and some people, too scared to knock on the door, will still come and take in the spectacle.

#one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #one piece x you #sfw #one piece #gender neutral reader #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #one piece x y/n #one piece imagines #ace x you #ace x y/n #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #ace op x reader #ace op x you #ace one piece x reader #mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #mihawk x yn #mihawk one piece x reader #shanks x you #shanks x reader #shanks x yn #shanks x y.n #shanks one piece x reader

[razorblade180]

Car Date

V2 outfit Weiss:*opens door* Poor people are weird!

Yang:I take offense, but what’s up?

Weiss:So Jaune pissed me off last and ended up ruining my lunch. As an apology he offered to not only pay for my food but also treat me for today out in town.

Yang:Sounds like a date.

Weiss:Yeah he’s not fucking slick but I’m cut off and he actually felt bad so I was like “Sure, whatever. I better like the food.”

Yang:Reasonable request, go on.

Weiss:Today I decided I’m going to be on my best behavior and not give him a hard time. He dressed casually, I’m clearly looking nice as you can see. Now…I wasn’t expecting gourmet from him. My bar was a sit down restaurant.

Yang:Fast Food?

Weiss:Fucking….Fast Food.

Yang:*nods* On brand but hey, burgers are filling.

Weiss:.That’s what he said! They’re also too greasy and not always put together. I almost wanted to hope out of his car-

Yang:Jaune drives?

Weiss:Yes! He actually pulled up near the gate and picked me up, opening the door and everything. It earned him enough points for me to not walk out the car.

Yang:Plus you’re starving and would be walking all the way back in heels.

Weiss:Fact. So I suck it up-

Yang:Pfft-

Weiss:No, grow up for like three minutes. I…endure the thought of Fast Food and I’m ready to get out of the car, but then he pulls into Drive-Thru.

Yang:Okay that’s not the strongest move on his part.

Weiss:That’s what I was thinking! I took the time to get dressed and ready and I don’t even go into a restaurant!? I was getting livid, but still hungry. I ordered my number 3, he asked for ice cream but their machine was broken so he just gets his number 5 and I’m ready to be driven back. Can you guess what he does?

Yang:We’ll as you implied, I’m poor, your rich, and I already know Jaune isn’t a dumbass. He drove to a nicer spot while keeping a budget.

Weiss:He told me his car is 1000 times cleaner than sitting inside. Plus it’s noisy in there, so he ends up driving over to this little park that had a duck pond and he put his car in this nice little spot away from other cars. I could see the sun and civilians in the distance and it was already past noon so sky is getting a little red too. Now I’m thinking…. “Okay~ not bad.”

Yang:As you should. Go on.

Weiss:I thought we were going to eat at park bench, but instead he rolls up his windows and turns on AC. He taught me how to move the move the seats back so we could have more room to eat in the car. Now we have no bugs or people to deal with, he had hand sanitizer in the glove compartment, and he let me plug my scroll in to play whatever music I wanted.

Yang:*smiles* Thoughts?

Weiss:…

Weiss:I have never had a more relaxing lunch in my life! In a car of all places! The food wasn’t terrible either!

Yang:Duh. I doubt he would’ve let you ordered something shitty.

Weiss:We literally just ate, talked, and went back and forth with the playlist. *smiles*…..Why the fuck was that so great!?

Yang:All for the valued price of 15 dollars I bet. You thought you needed lots of money for a quality experience?

Weiss:No but I never thought sitting in a parked car with Fast Food would become a core memory!

Yang:Now he’s the real question. Do you want to do it again, or do you want to do it again with him?

Weiss:….

Yang:AAAAAYYYEEE!!! This is how it starts!

Weiss:Shut up! No it isn’t!

Yang:Did you try only eating the fries in front of him to avoid looking like a starved beast?

Weiss:Perhaps.

Yang:Did you want to try his food?

Weiss:Only because I was hungry and curious!

Yang:The scent of being in Jaune’s passenger seat, can you still smell it? Did you hate it?

Weiss:…..*crimson* THIS IS A PROBLEM.

Yang:Aaaaa! *hugs Weiss* Look at you! I look forward to your growth and development!

Weiss:I just wanted a free meal! Not a genuine human connection!

Yang:Man gave you food for the stomach and the soul.

Weiss:Shut. Up. *hugs back*

#rwby #weiss schnee #whiteknightmonth #yang xiao long #rwby whiteknight

[thevividgreenmoss]

I had a couple of friends (my only two friends really lol which two is far far above my historical average for friends, one is above the historical average if we're being Real) over last night to see the movie I made with my cats/co-directors and I made little tickets/keepsakes for both of them lol

Since the first short I randomly slapped together back in January which eventually ended up being incorporated into what this ended up being I liked the idea of keeping this as something I primarily just directly share with people in my own living room, like the only reason I initially put this shit online anywhere is to have an easy way to share it on here with you all in case it's of interest to anyone lol but idk like there's no way to make even five dollars off of this since I don't have the rights to any of the music playing in the background and huge chunks of certain songs/albums are in the shit lmao like almost half an hour of D'Angelo - Voodoo lmfao but like. it cost me literally nothing to make this, I shot the entire thing on my phone and cut it together on my laptop using open source software so there isn't even any cost to recoup so why not include the music I was already listening to ig and past that just share it with directly with anyone that's willing to sit through it

Back in May I was talking to one of my neighbors who is also one of the neighborhood plugs who also raps a little bit just for the fuck of it "I dont make money off music, I'm a trapper for real" (slightly paraphrased it was almost a year ago at this point), but I actually fuck with his music and listened to it of my own volition after he initially directly played a track for me and our other neighbor and the other day I was over to reup and was like 1) I made a movie off your product so truly thank you cause this doesnt happen otherwise and 2) if you check it out and anything jumps out at you we can work on a music video along those lines if you're down which who knows if we'll do that but personally I'd love to. Then he asked me why I haven't been fasting lmao, remembering that I also didn't fast last year. And that led to talking about god and history and america and the whites. He was telling me a bit about another Pakistani guy that buys from him, showed me a picture of the dude, standing with (presumably although I can't say for sure) his father and grandfather.

The picture he showed me, everything he said has been stuck in my head since. The three smiling desi faces, if I had to guess either fellow Kashmiris if not that maybe Pathaan, but especially the old man's face recalling of course my nana's. I wish I could've made a movie in Lahore with him. I do want to make one with my mom, I was thinking of incorporating clips of a walk around the creek at my parent's neighborhood with her into this video but I ended up going a different direction but I do think it could be worth it's own standalone piece. But I do want to do more of these and the process by which it came together is definitely something accessible to everyone like everyone can do this I feel, if anyone wants. But I personally do want to make one with my mom if she's down.

A few days before that aforementioned day in late May I read Prince's unfinished autobiography and among a million things in there that I have not been able to stop seeing or thinking of was what? The way he opened the first chapter with the image of his mother's eyes - the first thing 👁 saw.

[stilemawillow]

MTIJ | Ch.30 City of Dumbassery, Here I Come

|mtij masterlist|

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

word count: 13k

summary: a girl with a variety of hidden complexes has to live with a french asshole for nine months. easy? on the surface. problematic? definitely. romantic? not too much, or at least they’d make it a point to say so everytime when asked. the end? please, their dynamic isn’t as simple as that.

warnings: nsfw content; mentions of nudity; virginity loss; oral sex (f! receiving); protected sex; explicit sexual content; reader discretion advised

A hundred-dollar question: where do people go to blow off steam when their interns weren’t back back from their vacation yet? First and foremost, never City of Dumbassery as it’s not a place for relaxation. I might’ve been its main population these days, but I fancied myself a rational person capable of making the right choices when needed. Pretend you’re not looking at my romantic history. The right choice, however, wasn’t always right in the heat of the moment, only in perspective, so we begin this scene with me, seated on Erwin Smith’s couch with Hanji Zoe and a cup of coffee.

For more information on the right-est choice I made as of late, keep watching. Or as asshole-me insists on promoting: Come see the prequel to the biggest fuck-up of this girl’s life. I, though oblivious to its imminent eventuation at the point where we start, had a vague notion of what I wanted the next few days to look like. Let’s just say, humourlessly enough, that my wildest dreams came nowhere close to the reality that would take place.

“I’m sorry about last time, (Y/N). I didn’t know about you and Eren.” Hanji’s contrite apology made my smile widen as I lifted the cup of coffee to my lips. Dismissing the fact she brought the topic right back with the intention to make amends, Hanji was a good person and clearly sincere in her ways of regarding me. Kindness was one thing, but this woman’s pure cordiality was admirable.

“It’s not a problem. I could tell it wasn’t your intention to hurt me.” The corner of my mouth twitched in self-reproach at the manipulative bullshit I let slip. Instantly, I corrected: “Not that I was hurt.” If it’d been Annie, she wouldn’t straight-up laughed. Had it been Levi, he would’ve stared at me like I was dumb for thinking him dumb enough to buy it. But this was Hanji and she just smiled reassuringly.

“You can share if you want to. That’s what I’m here for with all my friends,” she offered. It sounded tempting but I couldn’t allow myself that kind of openness yet. Annie was, as always, the only person who knew the full story in all its repulsive glory but if I wanted to preserve (Levi’s privacy) my reputation, I couldn’t tell the whole thing here. The whole thing – look at me dodging the serious parts in an attempt to make myself feel better. I couldn’t tell Hanji about my intoxicated attempt to sleep with her friend, who gave dubious if any consent. Sounded appropriately disgusting like this.

“Mike and Erwin seem like they lead pretty decent lives, though.” Redirecting the topic, ignoring everything weird, dismissing all as a dirty scheme meant to humiliate me – a methodical step-by-step guide on how to be a paranoid bitch. It would’ve been my equivalent of the Bible if I weren’t an atheist. Even if I regularly used OMG, if I had to pick a fictional character to believe was real, at least I’d pick one from a book with a legit author – something by King, Thackeray, Hemingway, Tolkien, Orwell or Hawthorne. Following that train of thought, I might as well start worshipping Mickey Mouse – it’d do me more good than the big guy with the beard who loves me but would make me suffer for all eternity for stepping out of line once. I did it a lot.

“It wasn’t always like that. Not to mention Levi was stuck in the gutter a month back.” Hanji’s words snapped me out of my daze. “I know I told you to wait for him, but I don’t trust him, so make sure you keep this conversation a secret,” she warned while leaning forward as if afraid the walls would hear. The suspense, though exaggerated and a bit comical, made me put down my coffee. “So, you know how Petra is mentioned here and there?” I nodded. “She was Levi’s fiancé. She died in a car crash last October.” I knew I should’ve reacted appropriately but I couldn’t force it quickly enough. Hanji noticed. “You don’t look shocked.”

“No, but I am surprised. A lot of things make sense now. I’m sorry for your loss.” I hastened to make a recovery to lessen the doubt along the planes of her face. A pang tugged on my heart. When I considered the alternate reality where Petra hadn’t died, the notion of Levi not arriving for his internship was incomprehensible. He’d be studying hard at home and married. No rings, no chaos, no cheating for me – yes, good, but no company around the house either, no distraction and no comfort.

“You haven’t done anything to apologise for it,” Hanji said. “Anyways. Shorty was in a really bad place the months after. Working himself to the bone, no sleep, no food, no nothing. He just had to be doing something. The one good thing that came out of it was his weekly visits to his mother.” A small pause, a moment of consideration for her and an odd feeling of fascination for me. I was soaking it up like a sponge because I was seeing, at last, his angle. “Maybe it hit him that if death came for Petra, it could come for Kuchel, too. I can’t know for sure. All I know is he exhausted himself to the point he collapsed. Unconscious for three whole days. Isabel told him he’d gotten the internship when he woke up.”

“So he used it as an escape,” I finished. It was a logical conclusion. Hanji nodded. Avoiding pain wasn’t the way but he’d been desperate to get away and the internship had been the perfect opportunity. He’d grabbed his bags, boarded the plane and then… well, had to deal with me. Not a warm welcome by any means. He hadn’t even had the energy to get angry or look like he felt anything. I hadn’t known, hadn’t cared enough to see. It made me uncomfortable to realise it.

“Flew over a whole ocean and kept working,” Hanji proceeded. “He wanted something to distract himself with. When he ran out of work because he did overtime, he started calling home more often. Vague details were all he gave, but I got the feeling he had something else to work on.” Hanji’s words made a lopsided smile kiss my lips. He’d wanted to busy himself with my well-being, but I’d taken it the wrong way, as I often did. Nowadays the matter was often used against him but never by him – wasn’t that funny?

“Becoming the spoiled brat’s babysitter,” I filled in kindly, but Hanji’s disapproving frown meant to reproach along with the eloquent gesture of her crossing her arms. I didn’t regret the way I worded it. Eren, Annie, Mikasa and my mother had often tried to make me rethink my ways, but results were yet to manifest. This story, with me as the shitty protagonist most likely to be insufferable contrary to sympathy-inducing, portrayed reality as I saw it – and reality often neglected character development.

“He never called you either, but he did mention taking care of you had the same effect as working, if not better. I felt he might find himself a friend, so I supported him. I think I made the right choice. You have a lot in common,” Hanji declared. It struck a cord – did we really? Our arguments were fire lashing out at ice – not something that happened with people got along. Levi was hard to anger whereas I had a short fuse – everything was a personal insult. No easier target than a conceited paranoid.

“On the topic of that,” I piped. “How do you forget somebody?” The question was light-hearted. I decided to dismiss the whole story so I could ponder it later. Hanji’s brows furrowed as she smiled sympathetically. She couldn’t imagine the situation well enough. The question was I over Eren? had kept at a safe distance from my mind during my birthday vacation and the beginning of August only to assault it now with pitiless ire.

Things kept coming back when I least needed them. Thoughts of the twinkle in his teal eyes or the crooked smile he always wore before a kiss, the sound of his voice – the softness he’d told me he loved me with the first time, the haunting quiver in it when we were breaking up. I woke up at night with the howl of planes taking off and landing. On some mornings, I woke up, hoping to hear a knock at the door and see his face. Would he be more tan? Would his eyes be the same? Would his hair be styled differently? Would he have grown taller?

But, (Y/N), a voice would say in my head, people don’t grow taller just like that, it’s physically impossible.

Eren can, I’d argue, because Eren is my boyfriend and he can do anything if he puts his mind to it.

But Eren wasn’t my boyfriend and he wasn’t a miracle-maker. I’d sit in bed and argue with myself that Eren would come back, that I wanted the best for him and that wasn’t me, that we were done, but that he’d still come back. He never did. A small desperate part of me still hoped for the door to open – any door. Erwin Smith’s apartment’s front door right now, even. I could almost hear his footsteps going up the stairs. I swore I could. I turned to Hanji, a naïve question – can’t you? – flickering in my orbs. She didn’t catch it.

“I’m not an expert,” she said instead. “But Levi can be of help. His coping mechanisms aren’t the best example to follow, but he has a good head on his shoulders. He just doesn’t listen to it.” She might’ve thought, with how desperate I looked, that I might cry. She didn’t know pride would rather have me rip out of my tear ducts before that happened. I didn’t cry often or in many people’s presence. That wasn’t to say I didn’t like Hanji. But Annie and, unfortunately, Levi were the exceptions here. The latter was a mystery, probably my attempt to play a damsel in distress to ask for attention. Attention and help and fucking, might as well – a kiss. Couldn’t he just kiss me sometimes without me having to be in the middle of a mood?

“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t copy those coping mechanisms even if I wanted to. Work, sex and alcohol are never a good mix.” I let out an awkward string of laughter, weirded out by my abrupt disconnection from the conversation and how it turned my thoughts against me. I didn’t miss him that much. Also, he was coming home tomorrow. I had nothing to play the desperate whore for. There was the blondie. That wasn’t jealousy, though. I’d say it was my wish to prove myself better.

“Sex?” Hanji echoed with a conflicted expression.

“Sex with my father’s secretary. I think it was around May. He stormed out after calling her and came back drunk in the middle of the night,” I explained. The brown-haired woman took a second to process the story, then burst out in incredulous laughter. My brows twitched. “What’s so funny?” Was it something else or was I just weird for not thinking my father’s intern and secretary fucking the joke of the century?

“I remember him telling me about that,” she started, voice hinting at a new bout of cackling. “He went to her place for paperwork and she had her boyfriend over. They kept offering him drinks and he agreed to shut them up. Crossed the line at some point. He even got lost on his way back to the house.” I wanted to face-palm using the table and, hopefully, get myself into a coma. Was there a person on this Earth denser than me or was I a phenomenal idiot?

“Oh, God,” I muttered in a wheeze. “I’m so stupid.” Embarrassment and shame painted the tips of my ears bright crimson as I clenched my fists. Hanji patted my shoulder.

“You’re not stupid. I would’ve thought the same if I had no context. Levi would never just have a one-night stand, though. Not the type of person for it. He claims it’s the wrongest way to get over something.” Her brown eyes, previously fixed on me, were now directed at the coffee table. “Might work for you, but he most certainly hates it.” A snort was drawn from her lips as she withdrew her hand from my shoulder. I tried not to think about it, but it was inevitable. Hitch’s party, him refusing, refusing, refusing, because it would be “just like that” and “just like that” was a solution for neither of us.

“I’ll consider it,” I joked. “I was busy up until recently, but maybe university won’t be enough to distract me.” I smiled as Hanji chuckled, patting my back.

“Another boyfriend should do the trick in that case,” she said.

But I don’t want another boyfriend, I wanted to counter. I want your grumpy short friend. The thought froze me up. Asshole-me joined Hanji’s hearty chuckle. Bold of me to think it. Terrible of me to think it. Wrong of me to think it. It was complicated. If romance was not involved here, it was undeniable at this point. I could almost feel it written in capital letters on my forehead.

ATTRACTED TO LEVI ACKERMAN. VERY.

“I’m not ready for the commitment.” Was the only comment to exit my mouth due to the sudden discomfort nestling in the crevice of my ribcage. “I think,” I added awkwardly, reluctant regarding a relationship but very opinionated on the topic of engaging my father’s intern in something inappropriate that would make our relations twice as complicated as they were.

“A friend with benefits then?” Hanji’s mind-reading abilities amazed. I realised it suddenly – that it was natural, this attraction of mine, no matter how humiliating and inconvenient. It wasn’t weird and maybe it wasn’t all that wrong. It was a guy who was three years older than me who lived with me that I considered unreachable. The forbidden fruit, so to say. He was handsome, mysterious and had abs. Natural to be attracted to that. Natural to be attracted to it when I saw it every day and it saw me every day and most times it treated me with passive kindness. So there’d be no harm, I assumed, in initiating something a smidge bigger. What was stopping me? I didn’t have a boyfriend, I wouldn’t feel guilty and I wasn’t insecure because, hey, he’d kissed me last time. Obviously, I wasn’t nasty.

“Update from a virgin to a slut then?” I smirked, a decision born. Hanji’s mouth clamped shut shamefully and I laughed. “I’m kidding, calm down. It was just a joke.” I patted her back. The ring on my finger was cool to the couch and soothing. My resolve, for once, was there. I had a goal. A simple one at that – nothing dangerous. Two words: kiss Levi. I would do it because there was nothing to stop me. I mean, what was the worst that could happen?

…

Imagine an elegant expensive kitchen armed with all kinds of top-quality appliances. Paradise for all little housewives who greet their husbands with a warm meal. I wasn’t that type and the fact I spent four hours cooking more food than a family of six could eat didn’t make me one either. Judging was futile because I took care of that myself during the whole process. Currently, the fruit of my effort sat in front of me – a full three-course meal with different forks to go with the high-class atmosphere. I was far from a successor of Gordon Ramsay, but I outdid myself this time. Why? Last-minute anxiety maybe. Or fear. I needed a distraction because the thought of Eren wouldn’t stop pestering me. Added to that was the fact my father could walk in without Levi. Asshole-me didn’t help.

Bet on the outcome now! A once-in-a-lifetime offer that provides an endless amount of entertainment for the whole family! Fifty bucks says a discount version of William will use the vanishing potion and fly back to France! The other side of the bet? Sorry, I don’t know her. With such a commentator, it was early to skip the food and go straight to consuming my fingernails. Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock. Place your bets right now, your bets need to go in the ballot box, quickly fill out the slips and put them in! Will he go or yes? And what’s the sweat for, princess? Don’t we like watching history repeat itself? I love it. So bet, bet, bet, bet! Come on, faster! If I had a penny for each time your father’s intern left you in the summer, I’d have two pennies. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s hilarious it happened twice!

The jingle of keys pulled the plug on asshole-me’s voice. I’d waited a whole hour now and my head snapped up so fast I heard my neck pop. The front door opened and my heart flinched when my father walked in, dressed in one of those hideous Hawaiian shirts they sold in souvenir shops and flaunting on his nose and cheekbones a really bad case of sunburn. He’d say the sun was harsh in Minnesota. I’d pretend not to hear because believing was impossible. He slipped out of his sandals and I clasped my hands together in excitement.

“Dad, finally! I was starting to think I’d have to reheat everything,” I said. He turned to face the fake exasperation masking the genuine joy I felt at his return. A doubtful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and my eyes were frantically bouncing from him to the open door. Panic began to well up in my mind. Asshole-me was diligently digging a hole for it, to fit as much as possible.

“A pretty big feast you have there.” Rolland Raven took off the sunglasses he was wearing to eye the food a bit better. I cracked a smile I hoped wouldn’t seem constipated. My thought process was starting to lag due to overload when I heard a faint curse. Next thing, Levi’s pale figure, wearing a ridiculous straw hat. My heart dropped like a stone, plugged the pit of panic and made asshole-me yelp when it nearly crushed her fingers. I felt like stumbling back into my chair and never getting up.

“I guessed you might be hungry after the flight. You don’t have to eat all of it,” I said. It was then a pair of graphite hues shot up to my face. It felt like each muscle in it strained almost to the point of tearing. My father took a seat at the counter while the intern opted to drop off his luggage upstairs and change clothes. I stared after him a second too long while he was climbing the stairs.

“You’ve never waited for me after a business trip before.” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) as my father began picking his food and digging in with more enthusiasm than I’d expected. Levi had mentioned the almightly Raven had complained about the poor quality on the trip compared to what he had at home, but it was still a compliment to witness it manifested.

“I usually have things to do when you’re on business trips, father. This summer I needed a source of entertainment.” I rolled my eyes, letting them scan the interior during the roundabout lie. Lucky enough, they caught the exact moment Levi was leaving his room, tugging down his shirt. A glimpse of fit abdominals. A vague tan line. The food on the counter became a tad bit less appetising.

“Don’t you have Eren Jaeger to help with that?” My father’s question made my attention snap back in place just in time for Levi not to catch me staring. He took a seat at the far end of the counter but I was too preoccupied with a small freak-out fit to dwell on it.

“About that,” I squeaked out with a constipated expression, prompting both men’s attention to turn from half-hearted to wholly undivided. Amazing. I couldn’t have done a better job at it if I’d begun yodelling out of the blue. “Eren broke up with me two months ago.” The key to not sounding like a squeaky toy was to not meet anybody’s gaze. My father was blinking like something had gotten in his eye and Levi’s jaw clenched at the discomfort he was subjected to.

“And I wasn’t notified of that because?” Rolland Raven, among many a quality, was a proud man who, in spite of his profession, could never act quite as predictably as I wished him to. This was no exception because I didn’t have time to open my mouth before he silenced me with a hand in the air. “No, forget I asked. I need to have a serious talk with him. Maybe make him pay back all the dates you’ve handled with interest. We can make a fortune.” The devious plan was voiced in his typical cold-blooded businessman manner. I waved my hands around in discomfort.

“Hold your horses, father. You’re not the one who got dumped. Eren ended the whole thing because he went to study in Germany,” I explained but it wouldn’t satisfy my father, who only glared while putting a fork-full of potatoes in his mouth. Levi tried to become fully invisible. I thought if things got too heated for him, he might make a dash for his room with the dish.

“Unreasonable as can be. If he loved you as much as he had the balls to claim in front of me, he could’ve thought of an alternative that didn’t include breaking your heart. Because of something as insignificant as distance, too.” My father leaned back in his chair with folded arms. He forgot all about food so he could glare at me.

“4898 miles to be exact,” I murmured pitifully. Both men shot me an incredulous look, to which I switched on defence mode. “I did my research. I wasn’t crying the whole time.” Subconsciously copying my father’s position, I reclined in my chair and crossed my arms, glaring like a child prior to giving a sigh and smiling weakly. “I gave it a lot of thought and he did the right thing. So can you be the one to tell mom later?” The last inquiry seemed to surprise him, maybe because it was expected of me to share more with my mother and thus already have her know the super secret information I was handing him.

“I’ll try not to cry as I do.” A nod and a similar weak smile. “You did well not to tell me immediately.” He returned to normal – calculating and sharp, looking for weaknesses and thinking in numbers. Levi’s lack of shock went unnoticed, which I was secretly thankful for. The raven was looking at me playing with the silver band around my finger to soothe my nerves.

“Because you would’ve gone to the airport to kick him to the curb like a good father?” I smirked, a pointed look aimed at the dark-haired businessman, who only snorted in return prior to redirecting his attention back to the food.

“… maybe.” A small pause betraying care, an awkward glance in his intern’s direction conveying mild panic as a result of his feelings showing and a fake clearing of the throat to show discomfiture. He changed the topic immediately. “Have I told you you’ve become a better cook than your mother?” (E/c) clashed with (e/c) and I knew he could see I was holding back laughter by the way the corner of his mouth twitched downwards in displeasure.

“You have now. Congratulations on successfully dodging the topic,” I announced with a complacent grin as he scoffed, ignoring the embarrassment so he could go back to eating. Levi’s gaze was relentless but, once having resolved the current minor conflict, I felt too ashamed to return it. I couldn’t be speaking of Eren, thinking of Levi and acting like a professional whore. It went against my moral code. I wished it was as stable as my pride. Somewhere in my head, asshole-me was drafting an advertisement for the future demise of both.

The following day was unexpectedly laid back in terms of emotions – the process of waking up and going to work was starting to become mechanical. I disliked that I was turning into a nine-to-five zombie, but Melinda’s cross remarks did nothing to hinder my placidity and Adam’s request for a date was, surprisingly, accepted with a pinch of reluctance. It was time for something new, I defended when asshole-me breached the topic of my change of heart. I couldn’t go a whole life without clashing with a man who wasn’t Eren. To forget him, I actually needed to accept that. Because knowing he wouldn’t come back and I didn’t want to get back together was different from realising I couldn’t stay in the comfort zone of being endlessly attached to him and using it as an excuse to never move on.

I felt a smile light up my face the moment I saw Levi in front of the TV with a cup of tea in his hand. Unfortunately, I couldn’t use him to move on – it was the conclusion I drew from the quiet happiness gripping my heart at the sight of him beckoning me over. Everything I’d done had been quite enough. I wouldn’t turn him into a tool as well. So I settled on the couch and we led a half-assed conversation about the movie playing until my parents barged in, beaming and formal. Going for a date at a restaurant – yeah, no, I knew where they were going after. I smiled as we sent them off, and then the ebony-haired intern began choosing the movie we’d be watching and I worked on the snacks downstairs.

Accepted a date, claimed you won’t use him and now you’re pondering the kiss you’ll initiate. You know you’re fucked in the head, correct? Asshole-me piped mockingly, making me huff. I knew I was fucked in the head because she was there. Also, kissing Levi and using Levi were two different things. Different for him how? It’s kissing. It wasn’t. It would be exploring this time – not thinking about being distracted but feeling it for what it was. Jesus, that’s such a weak excuse. I felt she might be face-palming. Seriously, what’s wrong with you? You spent so much time telling your best friend you don’t like him, then you miss Eren, then you “date” Adam, then you grab your friend-zoned intern and decide you’ll be kissing him again – after you established you’re fucking inferior to the blondie who’s clearly hitting on him or clearly intent on doing it too. Can you not follow the timeline?

“Princess, why does Natalie tell me you’ve filled out all the forms related to the company’s income during our vacation?” Levi lowered the phone from his ear. The call had ended a second ago and he was glaring at me doubtfully. I was busy watching the movie – hopefully, excuse enough for scarce to no eye contact. I opened the pack of Doritos I’d dug up from my secret stash in the garage and warily eyed the pale intern’s expression.

“Because the forms were in the office downstairs and I figured they’d get in the way of our movie marathon, asshole. I haven’t messed them up.” My scoff was promptly returned to sender as Levi shoved his phone back in his pocket and clicked his tongue in exasperation. Another three minutes passed before I spoke up: “By the way, I need advice.” The room was dimly lit and the raven’s sharp gaze was on my temple.

“Will you have it in mind when you get back on your bullshit?” The inquiry was flat and doubtful. I tried to nod but it came out looking like a cringe and a shrug. His lips pursed in exhaustion. “Spill,” he ordered coldly, making me pout.

“How do I forget Eren?” Squeaky was the best I could do after becoming tense again. Nervousness was gnawing at the feeble stem of courage I’d managed to grow and my hopes for this to go as smoothly as a chat about the weather were stuck in an elevator on the top floor of a skyscraper. Even overthinking was useless here.

“Easy,” he said. Again, there was that breach of grammar. “Find somebody new. Judging by how much you’re smiling these days, you might as well be done with that.” The suspicious mockery made me snort.

“Don’t you think I might be happy to have you and dad back home?” I asked pointedly.

“No,” he countered with a defiant click of his tongue. What he said next sounded like an extract from a Jorge Bucay book. Something about self-love maybe. “Before you get with Rivers, however, you have to accept that Jaeger is now your ex. He’s part of the past and the past doesn’t hold power over the future if you don’t let it.” I bit back laughter to not offend him.

“Such a poet you are,” I huffed half-heartedly. “And how do I stop loving him?” Seriousness stood perched on my right shoulder, but the Doritos between us kept decreasing and I felt the soothing coolness of the ring on my finger. Our gazes locked and I stared, just because I could, because he was back, because he acted normally. And why wouldn’t he? Our circumstances surely weren’t enough to alter his demeanour.

“You don’t. You never will and you should get used to it.” His answer cut deep and I realised it might’ve confused me but I was too captivated by his eyes to process it. He forced himself to explain: “We never stop loving somebody once we’ve fallen for them. We just fall harder for another person.” It was as romantic as it was businessman-like. A bit too… systematic somehow.

Line up, line up! Asshole-me encouraged. I imagined a big queue in front of an entrance door with a sign bearing my name above it. Number 12, pass through, but beware – number 10 wasn’t careful with his words and number 11 made no effort to change that! The asshole side of me clearly fancied the idea. For all waiting, the Eren Jaeger mural is on the left and the guy on the right is the one you’ll never be! Keep trying but keep this face in mind – Levi Ackerman is hiding in a lot of the corners you’ll visit! He’s an invaluable guest at this establishment! Oh! Is it time for the next one already? Hurry up, number 13! Don’t hold up the queue, who knows how much capacity we have left. And so on until the last victim had walked in. It made my nose scrunch up.

“Does that mean you still haven’t gotten over Petra?” I piped curiously, bright eyes observing closely the intern’s reaction. The movie was no longer as interesting. Everything I could focus on was the furrow between Levi’s brows and the flat unperturbed look in his eyes. He grabbed a Dorito from the pack. I moved my hand away just in time to avoid a clash.

“It means I haven’t fallen in love with the next in line,” he said, reinforcing the notion of a queue. “I’m used to the fact she’d dead. Filling out every report in the world won’t bring her back,” he paused briefly and gulped, “so I go on with my life.” The explanation was simple but relatively quiet, like he was trying to say the words while not exactly aiming to have me hear them. His gaze was staring at the screen ahead as I looked down, trying to come up with a good one-liner to put him out of his discomfort.

“I feel like we’re becoming pensive,” I started with a lopsided smirk, “so let me pull a Reverse Uno card on this mood by saying I’ve reached a milestone in my life.” Licking the Dorito dust off my fingers, I puffed out my chest proudly, making the intern put a hand to his mouth. Maybe he’d bitten back a smile behind it. “I won’t get fined for driving without supervision now. Not to mention, I can have sex.” Waving an index finger in front of his face, I didn’t react when he grabbed it without warning.

“I don’t see what stopped you before,” he stated nonchalantly. I shrugged, concluding I hadn’t exactly shared with him details about my childish vow.

“There was this really religious teacher at school when I was ten – she scarred all her classes by giving them unsolicited Sex Education lectures mixed with Bible verse. Got fired because children complained to their parents, but she did a good one on me before that,” I explained with a smile, yanking my finger from his hold. “Since sex was for sinners – both began with the letter s, she explained to us – and I didn’t want to be a sinner because it meant… well, a bad person, I told myself I’d have sex only after turning eighteen, regardless of the temptation. So I held out. Proud of myself for that.” My complacent smile made him snort. He might’ve glanced at my lips right after.

“I’m sure there’s been a lot of temptation for you, princess,” he drawled in a deep sarcastic voice, moving the empty bag of Doritos away before wiping his fingers with as I processed the retort. I sat still, pouting for a fraction of a second, when it hit me this was my chance. The signal was there – shining in bright green, if I wasn’t color-blind – and it was time for me to grasp the opportunity.

“More than you can imagine, asshole,” I said with a scoff, not parting my eyes from his profile to observe his reaction. We cast aside the fact he could’ve poked fun at me being the furthest thing from a believer, yet such a big aspect of my life had been altered by a religious teacher. The tip of his nose twitched when he snorted in dismissal, not daring to meet my eye all of a sudden.

“The mood has been brightened. What do we do now?” He turned to face me, curious but hesitant, and I felt a surge of courage at the sight of the indecisiveness dawdling about in his grey eyes. The blue specks were calling me – count us, (Y/N), count us – and I concluded this would be the one time I initiated anything between us. It was stressful and scary, but it was Levi, so want overpowered fear, resulting in something we’d have a hard time sorting out our feelings on.

“Watch the movie you so diligently picked for us maybe?” But actions contradicted words because I was leaning in and he could see it. For two whole seconds, there was no movement on his end. Panic was about to make me pull back, pin it to something else, anything else, when his hand lifted, slender fingers gently tucking my hair behind my ear. This was it. It would happen. I was exploring what it’d be like without the guilt of purposefully seeking distraction.

It was slow – the first kiss – his lips barely landing on top of mine so we could taste the water even when we knew it was lukewarm. The movie was like white noise – I could catch fragments of dialogue and the screen illuminated Levi’s profile the few times my lids fluttered open. His hold on the side of my face was gentle, granting permission for me to pull back at any point. I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew I was barely thinking and it felt nice, for my head to be so blissfully empty. It was all sensations and when he dragged his tongue over my bottom lip, my mouth opened to allow access for further exploration. The kiss deepened and I tried to push closer into him.

“Get on top,” he muttered into my mouth. His right hand dipped to grab my leg. I might’ve flushed bright red, but I still complied, slowly straddling him and letting his hands guide me to where he found it most comfortable. I was terribly aware of what I sat on. It might’ve been terribly aware of me, too.

It was slow and fast at the same time. We weren’t breaking the kiss but some moments of it – like his hand brushing my side and making me cover in goosebumps – were fleeting like blinks while others – like the weird scorching thing in my whole torso – felt endless. It was indescribable to a point, the heat of the moment but the moment was long and the pace was changing slightly the more it went on. It hadn’t been him either. It was him responding to me, because I couldn’t for the life not hold him tightly and subconsciously look for more. We were glued together and his fingers had tentatively pushed up my shirt at the back so they could trail up and down the curve of my spine.

My head was tilted, fingers tangled in his hair and heavy huffs escaping my nostrils. He smelled like lavender and rain and cologne, and my fucking conditioner I’d told him a thousand times to stop using because it was expensive. I didn’t bother scolding him about it now. My desperate want turned the kisses hungrier and there was this point – I might’ve wiggled slightly to find an even closer spot – but he stiffened and grabbed the back of my head, growing twice as persistent and passionate. Weird, using that word about him. It hit me the forbidden part of male anatomy I was seated on top of had risen to attention. It made me wonder if it had happened before and that, in turn, was simultaneously embarrassing and flattering. He was attracted to me, too. Duh. We were literally making out on my bed.

When more began translating as more of everything instead of more of this particular thing, he seemed to sense the shift. His hands guided me off his lap and back on the bed. My head was resting against the pillow and my head was empty, lids fluttering open to drink the sight of him the first time he broke the kiss – pale but handsome, tired but caring, bored but clearly moved by the happening. It was a miracle. I’d been begging for this statue to show me anything in the beginning of his internship. I hadn’t known it could show me this – it looked like a godsend. My heart was going a hundred miles per hour, my breath was unsteady and my body felt hot all over.

It didn’t matter where he kissed – my lips, my neck, my chest, my shoulders – I just wanted him to keep kissing me. Temptation had seldom been this strong and the vow was no longer active, it was fulfilled – an electrifying realisation. I didn’t need to have him stop. What my sinner’s hands did the moment that resolution snapped in place was to grab the hem of his shirt and, with pointed urgent eyes, plead with him to take it off. He hesitated for exactly one second, then complied, like he’d complied with everything else without having me say it. He was kneeling between my legs, arms going over his head so the piece of clothing could be discarded. His chest and abdomen flexed, the biceps, the triceps, all the other names of muscles I’d had to read about but hadn’t memorised. Adonis in the flesh. Fuck me for drooling. Oh.

If I could paint, I’d paint him. If I could sing, I’d write a song. If I had a taser, I’d tase myself out of being so cringe-worthy in admiring the body of a man. But when that body pressed against mine, everything became a bit too hot – literally and metaphorically – so I decided the next step was to cool down by taking off my own clothes. First the shirt, then the pants he helped out with. I almost laughed when they tangled at my ankles and he had to tug them off with an irritated frown. Here it was, having my father’s intern see my bra again. This time I didn’t mind.

“Frills? Seriously?” Well, now I minded.

“Do we have an issue?” I snapped with a pointed look. It didn’t help he was towering over me, sizing up my underwear with eyes that spoke simultaneously of him being amused and him being something else. I wondered if he was still hard. I hadn’t touched there once.

“It’s almost cute,” he mocked flatly. He didn’t reach to take it off – he just leaned down to mollify me with a kiss. It worked. I was carried off into wanting more again. The weight of him on top of me grounded the body and made the soul soar. It was a cringe comparison but whatever, it was true. I realised, right about the time I tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants and his brows flashed in unrestrained surprise, that I was an eighteen-year-old doing exactly what was expected of every single eighteen-year-old on the planet – sneaking a boy into my room while my parents were out.

This here was a boy I trusted and a boy I was halfway convinced was more of a man than a boy, mostly when it came to observing how he casually sat up and removed his sweatpants with precision contrary to clumsiness. My eyes flickered down to his boxers. Still hard alright. There was a rush of excitement and shame all at once when I realised it. A bit too late to stop and pin this a mere heat-of-the-momet make-out session. It was the real deal. Happening. Live. In my room. On a late August evening. Goodness gracious.

It took me a second to process it and he might’ve sensed that I’d grown a bit rigid despite remaining just as active. He didn’t advance the happening, petting my hair and kissing me, and trailing lower, but only as low as he’d gone before, finding the rest a sort of forbidden land. Didn’t even take off the bra with the frills he mocked me for. What a gentleman. He was kissing the curve of my breast and I was wondering how in the fucking hell I’d deserved this.

“We don’t have to,” he warned at some point. “If you don’t want to. Saying no is allowed.” He kissed me and it was intoxicating, but also the last snapped nerve. I arched my back off the bed, elbows bending so my hands could reach for my bra clip. The shoulder straps went loose and Levi paused for a moment to process what the act meant.

“I won’t say it,” I muttered with determination, eyes locked with his. Pride was strong within me even now and, having the wordless consent, he gently took off the bra before paying some attention to newfound territory. It was like being examined in a lab. Again, my boobs weren’t perfect. It was genetics and fate, and whatever else. In being embarrassed about him staring at my chest, I was graced by the thought I hadn’t shaved anywhere. Double embarrassed. Wasn’t it only right that the first time would come with presentability? There go the Raven teachings.

And the word nipple is somewhat lame – I’ve heard it from native and non-native speakers of English both – but there is no other word. So when his tongue rolled around my nipple, I forgot I hadn’t shaved and drew such a sharp breath I almost choked. My chest was heaving and he was thumbing my other nipple. I thought we’d get straight to it and was mistaken. He knew better, it seemed, because a virgin needed the bare minimum of this much and more foreplay to truly relax. It hit me for a fraction that this was actual foreplay while I was staring at the ceiling between trying not to make any sounds. I was like a dead fish, just letting him do things to me. More responsive than a dead fish but awfully inexperienced in any case. It made me feel just a bit guilty. My one saving grace was the fact his erection kept brushing against my leg – and if that was there, then it meant he wasn’t dissatisfied.

It was a black spot for a while because I couldn’t pinpoint between the overwhelming build-up of nice but not nice enough where exactly Levi was kissing or sucking or nipping or touching. Now it would be my thigh, now leaving a hickey on my shoulder, now trailing kisses over my jaw and down my neck, now caressing my side, now trailing a finger down to my navel, now my boob, intermission, the other boob – and the whole time there was that thing in my abdomen, the same one I’d felt with Eren, the hot knot begging for attention.

This was a new person and I hadn’t thought it’d come with a new person, but it was there alongside a brand new dynamic which wasn’t hurried or harsh or overtly passionate like I’d been used to. The pace was decent and steady and passion here didn’t amount to bruises – or at least not explicitly so. The new person made it thrilling, overwhelming. The new person made it a brand new experience. And when the brand new person’s hand gently dipped to touch the part where my legs met, I shivered all over, heart and lady boner flinching at once. Levi, with his obstinacy, refused to ask permission vocally. I still nodded, spreading my legs a bit wider. Slowly, like my panties weren’t in the way, he kissed from my knee to the base of my inner thigh, nipped slightly and made me yelp, and muffled something like a chuckle against the plush of my leg.

I didn’t know what he was thinking. I knew his fingers pressing against the spot where wetness had accumulated made my mouth gape slightly. I craned my neck and closed my eyes. There was embarrassment holding hands with excitement, with pleasure breathing down their necks. Nothing quite mattered. I breathed out like I’d been holding my breath for fourteen minutes when the raven’s fingers gently dragged back and forth against my core and then he might’ve been impatient, because he tugged my underwear out of the way, down my legs, past the knees and the ankles, dropping it with the rest of our clothes and the empty Dorito bag on the floor. It was a whole mess, this thing. I wanted it.

“The house is empty, princess,” he said while leaning down to kiss below my navel.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, almost out of breath in spite of my lungs functioning perfectly. His fingers were ghosting on the side of where I wanted him to touch. His mouth dragged lower. There was the jab of shame about not being shaved again. It hadn’t sent him to his feet and out of the room, so it was probably fine. A man wasn’t afraid to fight the jungle, I’d heard a few times before.

“That you can make noise without being scared,” he responded casually. I snorted and decided inwardly that I wouldn’t be making any noise whatsoever, just to spite him. It did feel good, though, so I doubted I could actually hold back effectively. As though to challenge the unsaid decision, Levi cut the suspense short. When his tongue rested where only one other had before, I came close to whining. My hand shot down to paw at his hair and he hummed against my clit. The vibrations of it made me writhe slightly.

He licked and sucked – nipped twice, which made me yelp both times – and did all sorts of other magic. Added to the title of mind-reader would now be the rank of mage. Then, there was this point when I could feel his fingers prodding at my entrance – a gentle warning of what was to come. First it was one. My mouth gaped and there was a slight flash of something like pain. More like discomfort. Now this was brand new wherever I looked at it from. Remember, my vow had its doors but none had included penetration. Officially the furthest I’d gone with somebody. Goodbye, hymen. You served us well.

He waited. Waited almost a full minute and distracted me with his tongue before I rolled my hips to give him the green light. Slow pumps. It was still uncomfortable, but the friction wasn’t painful. Just uncomfortable and new and I didn’t like change, but when this one found with its finger one particular spot sold off as the Bermuda Triangle for men to find, I might’ve liked this particular change. First, it made me moan. Second, the more he kept reaching that spot – because it was impossible to miss I liked it – the closer I was to coming. There were sloppy sounds and a second finger inserting itself in me, and my voice bouncing off the walls before dropping to the floor in a hush.

I might’ve said his name, actually, I might’ve half-screamed it. The orgasm hit me like a brick dropping straight on my genitals and he kept flicking his tongue slower and slower until I’d ridden it out in full. How considerate. When his fingers came out, there was a spot of blood. My mouth clamped shut in shame. He reached over to clean them with a wet wipe – then he cleaned me, too, because obviously he could see things that were invisible to me. There was slick on his chin and I glared half-heartedly when his eyes twinkled in amusement at me.

“Well, that’s done,” I muttered while he leaned over with the intention to kiss me again. “Wipe your mouth, asshole.” I put a hand to his chest to prevent my own pussy juices from coming in contact with my face. For a clean-freak, he sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry to get them off.

“You don’t want to see how tasty it is?” He was mocking me. I was red and hot all over still, a bit like a deflated balloon being refilled with exasperation contrary to air. No longer a virgin, as far as doctors would care. Still kind of in the middle, considering typical hetero interactions included something more than fingers.

“God, no!” I tried to push at his jaw and he almost chuckled when the pussy juice got on my fingers and I flicked my wrist frantically to get it off.

“It was god, yes a second ago,” he drawled pointedly. I burned bright red under his gaze, naked and not a hymen-bearer and kind of lost as to what came next. I pouted, swatted his shoulder and pretended to be very disgusted when he kissed me, making it open-mouted and sloppy for the sake of spiting me. In truth, it didn’t taste like much. Tasted weird, unlike food and drink. Well, that’s bodily fluids for you.

Remember the right-est choice I made as of late? Here it comes. The kiss guided his fingers down to my clit again and mine – to the band of his boxers. A tug and a snap, and he asked me three whole fucking times if I was sure. Not verbally, of course. It was just the particular way he stopped between each step to make sure, to look at me straight in the eye and have me nod my consent back to him. Like I’d change my mind that fast. God’s sake – if I would’ve said no, I would’ve said it before we’d kissed. But this wasn’t something he would do under normal circumstances – not a matter of alcohol, guilt or duty. It was free will and choice. Mine might’ve been made sometime last month, right around my birthday.

The boxers were gone. I blinked at it. A penis in textbooks, a dick in colloquial speech, a cock in smut books, a member in tame erotica. Length, girth, meat sword, love machine – could go on forever. We sat staring at it like it was an alien and while I was bashful, I was also bad with measurements without the aid of a ruler, hence why I safely concluded that I could stack about four donuts on it and put the zipper on it. There was that thing – precum, was it? – leaking from the tip. In all honesty, no I didn’t want to lick it off. Same went for sperm. In the history of mankind, I’d done the gracious thing and sucked off my boyfriend exactly once – the rest had been handjobs because blowjobs came with terrible pains in the jaw, a cramping of the tongue, a crap salty taste and the awkward detail of looking like an unattractive fish during the act. So, no, I didn’t volunteer to show off how bad I was at it.

“Condoms, shit.” It flew out of my mouth unintentionally. Levi’s face scrunched up. We were both visited by the bitter realisation that going further was not an option anymore, unless he wanted to don on a sock. Then the solution came to me. “Keep it up, I’ll be back in a minute,” I mumbled hurriedly, jumping off the bed and rushing butt-naked out of the room so I could go to my parents’ bedroom. Yeah, no, such was the reality of things. I tried to keep my conscience untainted while rummaging through the wardrobe. The hidden box of condoms in the back by the shoes was the saving grace. I wouldn’t speak of this to a living soul that wasn’t Annie Leonheardt ever.

The moment I returned to the room with the box held proudly over my head, Levi snorted. He laid me on the bed again and the mood returned, which was weird because I’d pinned him the type of experience one moment of interruption and consider it all ruined. Not that I’d thought about him during sex or having sex. I hadn’t. I promise. I was thinking it now, when I was about to have it with him. The kisses eased the natural awkwardness and by the time he was putting it in, I was a desperate mess again. Sweat stuck to skin and my breath got stuck in my throat when he pushed it in. I blanked, gaped like I’d received a headshot and felt him stand still to let me adjust. There was, again, mild discomfort. Fingers couldn’t compare to a dick.

I gave it half a minute and told him to move. The first thrust had me whining into his mouth. It was good. It was good, progressively becoming better and better and better, a surprise arriving with each snap of his hips. My father’s intern having sex with me, my father’s intern, my father’s intern, my intern, my Levi. The first five minutes were full of careful slow strokes to let the awkwardness dissipate and for me to get used to it. I won’t call myself anything but I’ll say I got used to it a bit too fast for comfort. So it went. Losing my virginity to my father’s intern.

“Faster, can you--- a bit faster?” The words were choked out and you’d wonder why I would ask for faster when slow was doing a good job of making my chest heave like I was running a marathon, but it was maddening and addictive.

“I can for you, princess.” It was a rasp against the side of my neck and I was blanking because the voice, paired with the hands, with the scent, with the sensation of being full and empty, then full and empty again was so mind-numbing I could melt on the spot and stay there forever. So slow and careful turned into fast and considerate. There was no harshness in him even when he kneaded my boobs or licked stripes down the length of my throat, no harshness whatsoever when he gripped my thighs or my sides. It was tight, but pleasant, egging me on further.

I bit down on the pillow when he found the spot. I bit his finger, too. I bit his shoulder and I bit my own hand to keep my voice down because how was something on this Earth allowed to be so nice? Fuck. He murmured at me to moan if I felt like it. There was a smug undertone. And when he reached between us to roll circles around my clit, I didn’t moan – I was a banshee impersonator, neck craning, back arching, toes curling, all that jazz. I came with a crash and a bang, and it might’ve been an hour by now, or maybe more, but the neighbourhood was asleep and I was wide awake, trying to wake them up, too.

A five-minute break of kisses served as an intermission to avoid me becoming overstimulated but Levi was still hard and still quite energetic in spite of the fact he’d been fucking me for an overall of thirty minutes without stopping or having his pace hitch. Round two started fast and I had my legs up, knees on the sides of my head. It was hot, seeing him through that kind of frame. Just one bead of sweat on his temple – not sticky all over, unlike me. Why was I the one becoming exhausted anyway? I was being a pillow princess. His eyes were gorgeous and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Please, don’t stop,” I whined at some point. He didn’t seem to have any prospects of stopping anyway, but I couldn’t help it. He huffed, chest heaving with lust and I knew it wasn’t easy to be the one doing all the work, so I mentally gave credit where credit was due. “Oh--- Levi, God!” He seemed like he wanted to laugh and my ring glimmered in the dark against his cheek while I tried to pull him down for a kiss which was simply impossible in our current position. He switched it five minutes later. It was not an understatement to claim I was seeing stars and everything was nice and nothing was awkward and this was the most handsome man with the most stamina on this land.

I lost my voice at some point, or I thought I did because my third orgasm couldn’t make me bite down on the pillow fast enough to muffle the literal holler that left my lungs. His name, by the way. If that hadn’t woken the neighbours, I wasn’t sure anything would. I was recuperating and he was trailing gentle pecks along my neck, still not finished. Was sex always this physically draining? My mind might’ve blanked during the third round and we were in missionary again because I insisted that I be able to kiss him any time I wished to. His hand was holding my wrist captive and the other was massaging my breast and it was all a giant whirlpool of pleasure and heat and fluids – the nasty and the nice in one, but I couldn’t care less about the nasty.

He came with a growl, biting down on my shoulder to muffle something that sounded like my name as his pace hitched and turned sloppy for the first time in what felt like hours. He slumped down on top of me and I was breathing more heavily than him, calmed by the weight. I was blinking at the ceiling and my heart was doing somersaults in my ribcage. He went to shower after a minute of rest, I called him out for being a clean freak and it just so happened that my perception of time wasn’t all too warped because checking my phone made me realise we’d had sex for about three hours, foreplay included. I slipped into the shirt he’d tossed on the floor, wiped myself and very considerately ignored the soreness in my hips while changing the sheets.

To my biggest surprise, he returned to my room in a new pair of boxers with his hair wet. There was no invitation. He joined me on the clean bed and wrapped his arms around me. This might’ve been aftercare. When our gazes locked, I didn’t dare avert my eyes in bashfulness. It was surreal and I wanted to memorise it. Then he asked me again – as voicelessly as the first time and the following ten – and I answered positively by flashing him the biggest smile I could muster. No words were exchanged. Levi rolled his eyes and I tucked myself under his chin, legs tangling with his. I was knocked out cold. I wouldn’t hasten to write this off as a happy ending but I wouldn’t immediately turn it angsty either. I explored. It was nice. I don’t think I regretted it for a second.

Waking up was a surreal experience because it included the added luxury of being bathed in sunlight with a warm arm draped around my midriff and a pale sunlit face inches from mine. A spot of purple in the crook of his neck and a few red crescents on his shoulder. Perhaps one or two leftover scratches on his back. I blinked at the sight incredulously, gradually coming to and realising what this position meant – prompted by last night’s three different ones, too.

It happened! Asshole-me hollered in my head, nearly hysteric, slamming a pan into a bell and making the echo of the toll ring painfully against the confines of my skull. You ruined it all! It was like an automatic switch – suddenly, the neutral was the bad and I had complicated it with my impulsiveness, my stupid hormones. I imagined four months of awkwardness and the wish to have more but being completely incapable of asking for fear it would mean feelings. I pictured a tense atmosphere, uncomfortable interactions, embarrassing thoughts, lame excuses. A friendship built with struggle and just barely reinforced annihilated to smithereens by my dumb ass.

I cringed, removing my hand from Levi’s chest to slap myself across the face for being horrible again – not in using him but in indulging my own selfishness. His eyelids fluttered open before the admonishment transpired and I was staring straight into the melted silver which had the tendency to read my thoughts. The current self-reprimanding cacophony would entertain him.

“… should make you coffee,” he mumbled half-coherently, making me blink wondrously at his hazy composure. This is normal, his eyes whispered, lips pressing nonchalantly to my forehead before he got up, so there’s no need to be so shocked. The trip down the stairs was silent. I had left scratches. More than two.

Currently, we were in the kitchen, sitting around the counter with our mandatory morning drinks. Unsaid words hung from the ceiling like dangling cobwebs. Levi, who’d needed a moment to retrieve his memories in full, was stiff and uncertain, and in spite of that visibly calmer than me. I could feel my face heating up as I thought of what to say. This wasn’t normal, even if both of us upon our respective awakening had pinned it such. It was something we had to discuss but how were we supposed to discuss sex when we sometimes fought over food? Deciding what to do seemed impossible.

“Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” The raven, of course, was the one who broke the silence while I was slurping on my coffee, gaze averted and heart beating erratically. “Princess, I’m afraid this is something important,” he said in the face of my silence. His piercing glare was on my temple but I wouldn’t turn, keeping my fingers glued to my cup and my mind grounded in panic. “Need I remind you exactly what happened?” Levi pressed additionally, husky voice raising in audible urgency. I felt completely and utterly naked – dressed in only his shirt and my own underwear.

“We had sex, that’s what happened.” I shrugged, mind preoccupied with the strange feeling eating its way into it. Deep into my stomach, up to my lungs, through the chambers of the heart, in the windpipe – but not painfully. “There’s nothing more to it.” The nonchalant statement didn’t get a warm welcome. That much was to be expected. The attractive intern was frowning, rubbing his temples with a frustrated sigh. I tried not to look at his fingers.

And I’m trying to do just that, asshole-me scoffed pointedly. There’s something different about them when they’ve been inside you last night, yeah? A good type of different. Imagine it. My shoulders tensed as I chased her around in my head with a frying pan. Levi ran a hand through his ebony locks. Wow, is that the sex hair? And I pursed my lips in displeasure, knowing the struggles of the current moment and choosing in spite of them to secretly a wish for a second time. No harm, you know, no harm whatsoever in wanting to fuck your father’s goddamn intern, yeah? No? Can you hear it? Does it sound like a good sentence? Does it?

“Where exactly does your lacking virginity fit into your nothing more to it?” His retort made me cringe, well aware of the virginity ace hidden up his imaginary sleeve. It was a bit harder to argue with him when he was half-naked, letting me see the spots I’d bitten and kissed. The situation: we’d had sex. My side: I had nothing against him being my first because I trusted him and he’d been experienced and careful enough to make it nice. The actual problem: he was my father’s intern.

The abstract part: intimacy often came with, well… intimacy. Casual sex had the advantage of not seeing your partner again afterwards and in our case, we’d had casual sex with somebody we saw daily. Future speculation: tension due to this adventure would brew either discord or twice the ferocity in repeating the adventure. A possible solution: talking about feelings. Additional issue: Levi and I talking about feelings? Not in this day and age. Not in this life either. Telling him he made me feel warm and appreciated? Impossible. Honesty in the face of something embarrassing? Sorry, I don’t know her. She must be really lame.

“Everywhere, because I don’t care for it. It might add complexity to your situation, but it doesn’t play a big role in mine.” Dismissing the whole of it and pinning it on him was wrong. My nonchalance was false. Maybe it was what made him take a deep breath prior to speaking up again, his tea untouched.

“You’re supposed to be freaking out, princess.” His eyes were on mine and asshole-me was screaming: Come on, do it! Just kiss him and make things worse! Go right ahead! I averted my gaze with a snort. He’d used my nickname last night. Added a shade of meaning to it. I tried to get a grip as my rational side reasoned with the situation. This had been a one-time thing – or at least for him. Following that train of thought, wanting more was useless.

“You think I’m not?” It was high-pitched and ludicrous. Memories were surfacing and it was somewhat unpleasant to think they wouldn’t repeat. Levi kissing me in the dark, almost saying my name, clearing the hair from my sweaty forehead, biting my neck as he came, smiling against my lips as I tugged on his hair and tried not to moan, holding me close afterwards, not once saying the wrong thing. “I’m freaking out. You just don’t see it.” My downcast gaze was thoughtful and the air was becoming heavier with something I couldn’t identify. I could feel him staring and it bugged me not to know what he was thinking. “What?” I snapped, refraining from playing with my ring.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked flatly, eyes pinning me in place. “Do you want me to pretend this didn’t happen or do you want us to keep going?” It was ridiculous hearing him say it because, usually, he wouldn’t. I blinked, thinking I’d misheard.

“Keep going as in keep having sex?” I echoed to make sure I’d understood. It might’ve gone out a bit more shocked than expected, which made him sigh.

“I was listing options. In the end, it all comes down to what you want.” The flat voice made me realise I knew what I wanted well enough to have chosen during the conversation with Hanji three days ago or maybe even before I’d had the courage to admit it to myself.

“I don’t know what I want,” I lied with a pointed look, vehement embarrassment clawing up my throat and scratching at the back of it. I could say I wanted to keep going – his offer meant he might be willing – but his response was a fifty-fifty on whether he was sexually frustrated or would rather stick to decorum while living in the same house as the girl he was fucking and her father. I couldn’t turn the question on him because it was mean. I couldn’t call it a mistake because that would be another lie. I was tired of lying when it didn’t go to protect my pride.

“You don’t?” He quirked a thin brow mockingly, feigning the surprise he didn’t feel. “Or you just don’t want to admit your favour the more embarrassing option?” I sat motionless, knowing this wasn’t what I should’ve been doing – considering it. Maybe this was a test he had for me – to see if I’d be dumb or act like a reasonable adult. But (there came that stupid word again) if Hanji had been right, this wasn’t a random hook-up, which meant there might be something and---

Are you seriously considering a relationship with somebody who’s leaving in less than four months? Asshole-me interjected, making me sigh in defeat. Doesn’t fuck randomly, okay, fine, but this is an exception. How in the fucking hell would he grow to like you? You know that’s impossible. Methinks he went along with it because you clearly wanted it. Think about it, he does all sorts of bullshit for you. So what sounds more plausible? Him being himself or him liking you? The former, of course, but I couldn’t admit it. Like I couldn’t admit he was right to say I favoured the more embarrassing option.

“Even if it was like that,” I chose to return the favour and be doubtful, “I’m not inclined to think your morals would let you humour me.” My chin was tipped upwards while Levi shook his head and finally took a sip from his tea. The ghost of a smirk in the corner of his mouth disarmed.

“I have little to nothing against it. But,” (that fucking word again) the firmness of his voice was the only thing keeping my chest from swelling, “it doesn’t sound like an ideal course of action when you’ve almost got yourself a new boyfriend,” he reasoned calmly, somber responsibility lacing his tone.

“It’s not cheating if we’re not official,” I protested instantly, furrowed brows and a pout. He snorted.

“That’s not what I meant, princess.” My lips pursed at the jolt the nickname gave me. “I don’t want sex clouding your judgement. I get Rivers isn’t your boyfriend, but you shouldn’t exclude him as a possibility just because you’ve started thinking you have feelings for me.”

“Besides being a poet, you’ve turned into a psychologist, too,” I exclaimed with a genuinely cheerful chuckle that made him quirk a brow. Something in my throat shrivelled up. “Don’t dwell on my feelings too much, asshole,” I reassured. “I like this because it’s something new, not because I’m head over heels in love with you.” I was still chuckling as he sipped on his tea and fixed me with one of those firm looks that had the ability to bend the knees. The effect was doubled in intensity this morning.

“Make your choice then,” he said boredly, not wishing to be too imperious, seeing as the situation wasn’t taking place in a formal setting where he was the boss and I was the indecisive underling. I might as well have been, with how hot my ears got while I held his gaze, brave and stupid in the face of somebody who read me better than I sometimes read myself.

“I’m not saying it out loud,” I muttered, bashful. The ebony-haired intern watched me struggle before tilting his head to the side with a fake air of oblivion.

“Then I won’t know what you want,” he said innocently, attempting to mock my shyness and what was more – succeeding. I burned bright red, feeling heat creep up my neck and my glare was pointed and uncontrolled. It couldn’t pass as mere annoyance because Levi was hitting a nerve.

“I didn’t see you having a hard time knowing everything I wanted last night, but okay.” There was more spite than sass in the sentence, which only further conveyed my inability to stay nonchalant – something that clearly amused him. “I want us to… keep going. Satisfied?” Crossed arms, downcast gaze and a childish pout. I was the live embodiment of the word petulance and Levi wasn’t done having fun with it.

“Not as satisfied as I clearly left you.” He was smirking and I glared at him, furious and not knowing where the blood would go when there was no space left in my head. I hopped off my chair, turning my back to him and hearing how he moved to stand behind me. A well-meaning hand landed on my shoulder. “It was a joke, princess, there’s no need for the cold shoulder.” His tone was flat and disinterested, but there was a pacifying sliver. He might’ve been trying to make peace but I wouldn’t have it after all the embarrassment he put me through – just to have a good private laugh, too!

“Un-fucking-bearable, that’s what you are,” I hissed, brushing his hand off my shoulder and heading to the staircase in order to escape. He gave chase and set on ignoring the usual code that forbade touchy-touchy when unneeded. The pure and unfiltered imagination one must have in order to picture a shirtless Greek God chasing after a poorly dressed eighteen-year-old spoiled brat was too ambitious a requirement for anybody to fulfil. Turn to mythology for that, but it’s inappropriate there and this one meant well.

“I’ll stop embarrassing you if that’s what you want.” His hands were on my shoulders. He turned me around and I didn’t look at him, much less respond. He could sense I was ashamed. His hands slowly trailed down over my arms to hold my wrists in a grip I could, with effort, free myself from. “Does the mere mention of sex with no context whatsoever embarrass you, princess?” He knew it did, leaning forward with twinkling eyes and a complacent half-smile. “Your face is red.”

“And you’re a fucking genius, congratulations,” I spat with sarcastic disgruntlement. He pulled me forward so that I bumped into his chest. My shoulders jumped in surprise. I didn’t want to look him in the eye but the sight of the marks I’d left on him were no less embarrassing to behold. My heart sped up and I was pouting, flush against him with nowhere to go.

“It speaks,” he whispered by my ear. His hands retraced their steps over my arms and shoulders, gently gliding against the sides of my neck until they held my face. “Does it want to go up to my room?” Blue specks in a pool of melted silver. The question was genuine, in spite of being masked with slight mockery. The adult of us two. I tried to stay mad, but it was impossible. I promised the blue specks I’d count them later and then we were kissing. It was a funny picture – the whole of this situation – ridiculous but somehow not fictional. It was him lifting me off the floor and me wrapping my legs around him. It was him making step after step, steady and careful not to drop me while I snickered into his mouth. It was me being a literal koala and then it was us, hearing the jingle of keys.

“Shit,” I cursed, parting from him with a smack. He let go and I could catch only a glimpse of the panic on his face before I was running up the stairs. I’d barely closed the door behind us when I heard my mother greeting the empty kitchen downstairs. While I breathed out in relief, Levi was already heading to the balcony. It occurred to me that there was a pack of condoms on my nightstand and they were stolen. I’d need to make a trip to the pharmacy and replace the box. Talk about inconvenient. “Careful now,” I piped while the intern was preparing to make the jump, “we don’t want you to fall.” He gave me a half-hearted glare but said nothing.

When he was gone, I plopped down on my bed and grinned incredulously at the ceiling. This “secret sex” thing we were about to dive into wasn’t how I’d imagined the weeks prior to my first year in university, but oh, well. Expect the unexpected and if unable to – just accept it. This officially marked the beginning of my longest stay in City of Dumbassery. It was surprising, however, that I wasn’t alone in there. Twice as surprising that I’d be stuck with my father’s intern. Whom I was having sex with. Amazing. Spectacular. Asshole-me would have my ass for that.

tag list: @unloved-cadillac ; @donaldthrts

#mtij #levi x reader #levi ackerman fanfiction #x reader #levi ackerman imagine #reader insert #levi ackerman x reader #it finally happened #all i'm going to say: i wrote the actual sex scene while editing the rest of the chapter because i was too bashful in the past lol #sure hope it's not worse than the vague three paragraphs of the past #levi is a literal king who preaches consent and safe sex and nobody will change my opinion #also our drama queen is entering a brand new arc of her life #beware: storm incoming

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary203

4/5-6/2024

friday - saturday

annoyed.

my gf had me go out with our friend because he successfully defended his thesis today. i didn't think i would but i was persuaded and i stood around in a club i didn't really want to be in for 2 hours listening to music that was either okay or decent but i wasn't enthused. i liked everyone i knew there but i didn't really have anything to say. i just didn't feel there or want to be there.

today i also got asked by my coworker to spot her some money, 30 dollars, i have 24 laying around, i say yeah. she says, don't tell anyone and that's weird but it seems like a shame thing. so like, other people are around, i don't get to, or she doesn't let me. it seems easy to explain that she can't pay a phone bill or something to them, but maybe she's done this in the past and they have no sympathy. i just feel like i should be good for one favor probably. after that i am kind of spent, with everyone mostly, or at least with money. i tell this to my gf and she's like sure yeah.

but then when i bring up that i'll have to probably go over there w/ friends to just hand her the money she says like, why are you doing that, whatever, not in a jealous way, just like, what if we need money and like we aren't doing well i guess but every time i try to talk about it with her, if i need to keep my job for longer than i think to offer money up, pay for something, she says no. straight up no, it's not important that i do that. it's detrimental to her even for me to have a job because it makes me prickly and exhausted.

she does that in front of people, which makes me panic because it seems like we've been in the middle of a crisis and that she's trying to make me look bad on a night i didn't even want to come out for. i just got off work when she called, i had to go home and get myself ready for a second time today, and then i just stood around while people drank and i did nothing. which is fine that's the life i've made for myself basically. but it upsets me that she'd spring it on me out of nowhere like that.

when we got home i was like, what was that, are we fucked, what is going on, why would you spring it on me like that and catastrophize, and she was just like, sorry, i guess.

she feels worse than that but i don't know. i don't feel like i'm very cruel for being upset about this. it's not like i need or want anyone to validate me either, i just want to put the thoughts here, to see where i feel tomorrow i guess. this is the first 'large' argument we've had in a while. i ask her like once a week if i need to keep my job and pay for something, it's routine and it seems to bother her, but i keep doing it because i am so not in the loop about money because she decides i'm too anxious and stupid to deal with it, but then she brings it up in a way that's like, socially humiliating or something? like i don't know. it's pointed to do it like that and maybe she doesn't even realize, i imagine she doesn't, but this is the kind of thing being raised by her mother would bring out, as in, it's just a kind of behavior she learns and it's not like i can really even blame her, or maybe it's not even fair to say it's learned. i know it's a real anxiety, but it's such a failure to talk to me seriously. idk.

and then before then she spent the whole night trying to have fun with me by grabbing my arms and touching me and i kept saying no and it took until like the 5th fucking time each time to get her to stop. i wanted to not be touched. i don't care if it makes me cold i am just like that sometimes i don't want to be touched all of the time i can't handle it, it feels bad sometimes, like painful and like bugs crawling on me. it's anyone that can do this, anyone on earth will make me feel like that and it's not some issue with her. it's me but i'd like it to be respected or something.

there's other stuff today too that's not a relationship drama. i mean most of our day was good together, what little there was because i spent most of my time at work. we saw our friend who defended his thesis earlier, or she brought him over before i left. that was nice. i liked seeing her then. i liked seeing her in the club even though i wasn't having fun and she was irritating me sometimes.

and then i wanted to work on music stuff today but i just have no time and people are coming over tomorrow. i feel hurried and bothered.

as soon as i got home i had like 2 people texting me anxiously as i was trying to get ready, my gf and co worker. my gf was trying to get an uber to me, or our friend got it and then she was coordinating, and my co worker just desperate about me trying to get to work tomorrow to give her 24 dollars. my gf is crazy if she thinks i want to do this but it's like, if someone is asking me of all people for help, and not their parents, not other people, they must either be scared of something or just not getting any other help, which makes me feel bad and it's not like this cash was in any fund for anything. it was literally my money, untethered to any plans of any kind. i don't want anything from me helping her, i literally just want to know that her life is less bad or something, this is the minimum i can do for anybody and it makes me feel awful i can't do it most of the time.

if i consider what she said from her side, which i really should, it is obviously the kind of thing where she's just talking and joking like, oh why help her, she has parents, haha, and like yeah, it's funny and i should have said no but i didn't, so i am on the hook and as easy as it is to get off the hook it's like, that's happened to me too much to want to keep it going, not even with money just in general, people fall through, they are flakes, i would like to not be. at the same time she said something not really thinking (drunk), she really hurt my feelings, or upset me in multiple ways beyond hurt feelings. it's not fun to have to put this in front of other people, i don't think it's noble or worth anything, it's not even the amount she needs it's just literally the most i can spare as it's not sitting in my bank account, it is purely liquid and never accounted for, it sat here for weeks. if my gf needed it she could have taken it, if i needed it, i could have used it.

but the money is not the important part, it's that she was just trying to joke and dissuade me from helping, and that it came out relatively bad to me, she is probably right that no one else will think about it but i also wonder like, what is with the impulse to air it out like that anyways. whatever. i just don't want to be mad at her and i guess i'm not, she is probably upset at me for being upset at a failed joke but i don't really feel wrong for it. just like i should have let it go easier or something. but idk. on some level i feel like i can never tell her how i feel about anything. if i do, she takes it mega personal, which she is now, and it's always been that way. i feel trapped by it, i can't do anything about it.

anyway, reading was good. i am liking the hito steyerl essays more, and foucault is insightful as always, he got to the inquisition as an early example, or maybe not example, just vision of the disciplinary structures that would arrive, an antecedent of the panopticon in ways, but still very different as it organized nature, created natural sciences and enabled the exploitation of that domain, the panoptic structure does this for 'the human'. one thing caught me, is lodged in this book is something rather anti-hegelian i guess, or against the dialectic, it's a very simple thing, but given that these ideas of the sovereign aren't really excised so much as repurposed, for instance the parade as expression of discipline, the ritual still in some way points to the sovereign, as well, the sovereign is now managed, not kings literally but a sovereignty and right of individuals, this is developed and managed via methods of coercion, very interesting, as it posits not a real humanization of things, an improvement, but a method of retention and recycling. or perhaps this is my incorrect and strange reading and i am actually quite stupid.

i am stupid, aren't i.

so that is where i am at. i guess i'm going to listen to the album tomorrow, see how it sounds, maybe try another sequencing of it, and then, idk, take notes i guess.

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mickittotheman]

I just read the snippet of your fic from an ask from iansw0rld and I'm just ‼️‼️‼️‼️ about it literally can't form coherent words but I'm obsessed already and I'm very excited to read it! 🖤🖤🖤

GAH omg thank you!!! Here's another snippet. As a little treat. It takes place immediately after the prev one:

______

“What is with you and the fucking sprite?” Mickey grouses the next day. He’s having a bit of trouble looking Ian in the eye, but he’s sure Ian will lure him back into a relaxed state soon enough, his weird fucking alien powers doing whatever the fuck it is they do.

“You got something against sprite, Milkovich? ‘Cause we can’t still be friends if you do.”

Who the fuck ever said anything about fucking friendship? 

Mickey bites his tongue, sure that if he says anything about it Ian will make some stupid quip like, ‘oh? what do you want us to be then?’ and Mickey will have to grit out some answer like ‘strangers’ or ‘mortal fucking enemies’ while fighting a losing battle to keep his cheeks from going pink.

Yeah. Probably way smarter to just let Ian keep thinking they’re friends, no matter how fucking faggy that is.

“This is a fucking bar, man. You ever gonna order a real drink?”

“I’m good,” Ian chirps, slurping obnoxiously at the glass Mickey hands over. “Soda tastes better than alcohol. I’m not 21 yet, anyways. Not for another few months.” 

“Jesus, you aren’t supposed to fucking tell me that.” 

Ian grins at him. “Oh yeah? What ‘m I supposed to do, then?” 

“You’re supposed to show me a fake ID like a normal fucking person. Or just not fucking say shit in the first place, considering we don’t even fucking card people.” 

Ian splays one of his big ass hands over his chest. Drops his jaw in shock. “Mickey. Surely you aren’t encouraging me to break the law.”

Mickey snorts, a smile breaking out on his face despite his best efforts. Ian’s eyes go wide, delighted, his grin the most blinding one yet. Mickey scurries away to refill the glass of some girl who didn’t even fucking ask for one.

“Hey, I didn’t–”

“Yeah, I fucking know. On the house.”

The girl frowns at his language, then perks ups at the concept of a free refill, then frowns again. “You aren’t, like, trying to hit on me are you? Because you are so not my type.”

Mickey directs his eyes heavenwards. The shit he has to put up with in this fucking hellhole.

Ian finally leaves just before ten, just like he always does. He smiles, just like always. And, just like always, his last smile of the night is soft and sleepy in a way that makes Mickey want to punch him. “See ya tomorrow, Mick.”

“No you won't,” Mickey says, snatching the five dollar bill Ian’s holding out. He knows by now to be careful not to let their skin brush as he does it. “Work the opening shift tomorrow, with any luck I’ll be gone before you roll in. And I’m off Sundays.”

Ian frowns for a minute before brushing it off, his grin cropping up again. “No problem,” he chirps. “I’ll come by on Monday, then. My wallet and glucose levels could use a rest from all the drinks, anyways.”

And yeah, okay, Mickey’s had this sneaking suspicion that the guy has mostly just been coming to hang out with Mickey for some insane fucking reason. But for the guy to just straight up fucking confirm it like that? Just put it out there in the open, no holds barred?

It’s fucking unsettling, is what it is. Guy definitely has a screw loose. What is it with EMTs and their weird ass obsessions with making Mickey’s life a living hell.

He spends the last twenty minutes of his shift all fucking jittery and shit. Thank fuck he doesn’t have to deal with this shit again until Monday.

+++

#my scribblings #an unyielding need for validation? in my writing process? its more likely than you think #deadass i could probably be baited into posting the entire fic in tiny little snippets like this smh #mechy answers

[minefield-of-a-ninja]

CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5

Prompt from @thesassywallflower​​​​ for @spnfanficpond​​​​ Secret Santa): Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday. 

Chapter tags/warnings: this is where we get our explicit rating

Chapter WC: 3800 of sweet, sweet lovin’

Author’s notes: It’s been at least 10yrs since I’ve had anything approaching all-night sex, so this was particularly fun to write. This chapter is inspired by a post @brrose-apothecary​ shared with our Slack group re: vanilla sex. It is also dedicated to my most favorite past sex partner, who was the living, breathing embodiment of erotic cliches and without whom I would be sadly lacking in experience with multiple orgasms before ever even seeing his dick.

This is also fucking hilarious and apropos to this chapter. Dean’s about to turn 44 in this timeline, but peepaw CAN fuck. @stusbunker​

Text divider by @talesmaniac89​.

Donna enters her bedroom whisper-quiet because she’s walking on a cloud. She doesn’t bother to close her door; Dean will do it.

“Claire loves her fuzzy socks,” she says over her shoulder, setting a couple of water bottles on her nightstand and clicking her bedside table light to low.

Claire picked the socks Dean had chosen from the dollar store on her first try. She immediately pulled them and threatened bodily harm to anyone who tried to steal them. Dean looked so proud.

When Donna turns, she finds him hedging the foot of her bed, brushing his fingertips along the sapphire-blue chenille throw. His chin is dipped into his chest, and his brow is gently furrowed.

“You sure about this, Donna?” he asks quietly, to the point instead of small talking about white elephant gifts. He looks up at her, keeping his chin close to his chest.

If you asked a dozen people what they love about Dean Winchester, they might say he’s brave, charming, heroic, handsome, or loyal. Donna does love those things about him, but what she loves the most, what she’s always admired and held close to her heart, is that Dean is genuinely kind.

She loves that he’s gentle. He doesn’t take the easy way anywhere, and not just because he’s hard on himself but because he will always do what he thinks is right. And, right now, like many other times before, in a time of his own self-doubt, he gives Donna hope.

“I said earlier that I wanted to take things slow, and I meant it.” She nods and swallows. “I meant- Dean, I want you. I want this. But I want it for real, to take our time and... savor it.”

Dean’s eyes light up, and his lips twist from an uncertain pout to a brash, toe-curling smirk. He straightens to his full height before swaggering his way around the bed to meet her where she stands.

“Hmm, I think I know what you mean,” he says. Donna’s mouth goes dry because they’re toe to toe and her bed is right there. “Kinda like...”

Dean cups her jaw in his giant hand, resting his thumb over the hollow of her cheek as he descends so slowly, she might scream, before finally kissing her for the third time that day.

This one might burn her alive.

He moans as he unhurriedly slides up against her, wrapping his free arm around her waist and lifting her to her tip-toes.

Donna drapes her arms around his neck as she kisses him back. Her body aches from her lips to her core and out to the tips of her fingers and toes. It’s the kind of ache she hasn’t felt since she was 17 and writhing in the backseat of Paul Evensen’s borrowed Cutlass Supreme.

“‘M gonna be so good to you, princess,” Dean murmurs around her open mouth, and she can’t take it anymore.

Donna lifts her legs to wrap around his waist, and Dean chuckles. He draws his hand from her waist down under her butt to squeeze and smack, then hooks it under her knee to support her, kneeing up onto the bed before setting her down. She looks up at him as she reclines all the way back, and he’s stretching out over her. Her slippers fall to the floor as he wedges himself between her legs.

“We should,” Dean breathes, ducking in to brush his damp, plump lips over her jaw to her throat. “Talk about where- er, what...” Dean huffs and rears back on his haunches, keeping his hands on her, toying with the hem of his big hoodie where it’s riding up her belly.

“Tell me what you like. I want whatever you want.”

Donna exhales and smiles softly at how flustered he is and then shakes her head. “I like you — your hands and lips on me. I want you.”

She feels sort of dumb saying such a simple thing out loud, but judging by how hard he is under his jeans against her thigh and the look in his eyes, maybe it was just the right thing to say.

Dean nods. “Can I put my mouth on you?”

Donna closes her eyes and bites back a whine. If ever there was a dream come true.

“I don’t know how else to say this without sounding like some kind of super slut, but I cannot imagine one single thing you could propose right now that I’d say no to.”

Dean’s face splits with a wide and bright grin. “Lose the hoodie, D-train. And the pants. You’re in for the ride of your life.”

Dean holds her eyes with his and her wrists to the bedding as he kisses and nuzzles his way from her mouth to her hips.

She’s completely bare to him now because the hoodie and pajama pants weren’t enough to lose, and he’s almost as bare as her except for his boxer briefs. She’s all satin curves and soft slopes against him.

Her tits rise and fall with her shaky breath, and her smooth skin ripples over the flex of her core muscles underneath. Dean closes his eyes and brushes his nose and lips back and forth across the soft, lower curve of her belly.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, pressing wet kisses everywhere he can reach.

He releases her hands and drags his fingertips over the delicate skin on the insides of her wrists, grips her elbows and biceps, tickles under her arms without letting her squirm away, and wraps his hands around her ribcage before thumbing her hard nipples. He can’t resist pausing to gently pull and suck at them before continuing down until her hips are nestled in his hands, and his mouth is buried in her soft, wet pussy.

Donna sighs and lets her knees rest heavily over his bare shoulders, and Dean goes to work.

He knows he’s good at a lot of things. He’s rebuilt Baby to new nine times, can wield any weapon ever handed to him with expertise, and he’s pretty proud of his bacon and bleu cheese burger. But his number one accomplishment, in his eyes anyway, is eating pussy like the motherfucking GOAT.

He presses his lips to her half-bare slit. She’s left the top of her mound, the juicy plump that wraps her clit covered in soft closely cropped blonde hair, but below that, her lips are shaved smooth. Dean groans and grinds into the mattress as he licks along the silken, tangy skin.

“So fuckin’ hot.”

He reaches around her hip to use his thumb and forefinger to spread her open. She writhes under him when kisses her, making her jolt across the bed.

He wants her open, to suck and lick every inch of her inside and out. She’s so hot and slick, and it makes him so hard.

“Taste so good, I’m gonna come before I even get inside you.” He chuckles, but it isn’t entirely a tease. It’s been a while since he’s been with anyone like this and even longer since he’s had the time to really focus.

“Wait for me, cowboy,” she breathes, bucking into his face. Her other hand drops to his head, fingers twisting in his soft hair.

“There ya go, show me how to fuck your pretty pussy.”

Not everybody likes the way he talks during sex, but Donna sure seems to.

“Dean... god...”

He dips back in to wrap his lips around her hot, swollen clit. She hisses and her back arches off the mattress, so he eases off a bit — feather-light suckling alternating with delicate, broad swipes of his tongue. He uses his arms around her hips to keep her still; he knows what he’s doing and knows she’ll love it.

“So, so pretty,” he whispers, blowing a stream of air across her clit and then licking along its side.

“Dean. Inside.” She wraps a leg around his neck and pulls. “Please.”

He shakes his head free and murmurs, “Not yet,” then slowly swipes his wide tongue from her slick hole to her puffy, pink clit. “But we’ll get there, I promise. We got all night.”

She grips his head again, holding him in place and rubbing up against his mouth. He’s fucking thrilled that she takes what she wants. He wants to watch her do it.

Dean rolls until he’s on his back and she’s straddling his face. When she realizes she’s on top, she pulls the chenille throw in front of her. He wants her to feel comfortable, so he encourages her to use it to her advantage.

“That’s it, rub your slick pussy all over my mouth and that soft blanket over those pretty nipples.”

He helps her settle in place, her tits peeking from the sides, her nipples so taut it makes his dick even harder.

“Ride my face, princess.” He slides his hands up over her wide hips to her waist and under the blanket. She closes her eyes and starts to surge, smearing his lips and chin and nose.

Dean leaves his mouth open, periodically swiping his tongue into the mix as she rasps over his face. When she looks like she’s out of her mind, he cups her tits and pinches her nipples.

Donna shouts, dropping the throw and arching her back. She braces her hands behind her on his thighs, thrusting into his face over and over until she’s coming, gasping for air.

Dean holds her steady and works his way up to sitting. He wipes his mouth with his hand before twisting her half-tied hair in his fist and kissing her.

“You’re so hard,” Donna whispers. “Can I-”

“Mmm,” Dean takes her mouth again, refocusing his hands on her gorgeous fucking skin and curves. “In a bit.”

Donna pouts but doesn’t resist any further.

He half-crabwalks them 90 degrees to the side and up to the pillows. Donna holds on for the ride, giggling, then gasps when he rids them entirely of the throw and captures one of her nipples between his lips.

“Tsk. Pussy’s soakin’ my boxers,” he mock-chastises, pulling and pushing her until she’s side saddle across his lap.

He cradles her head in his palm, fingers twisting in her hair as he slides his other hand up between her thighs. “Drippin’ wet,” he whispers, gliding his fingertips along her seam.

They kiss, and he strokes her like that for a few minutes. He wants to give her time to calm down a little, so he can ratchet her all the way back up again. Finally, he settles upright against the pile of pillows at her headboard, situating her back flush with his chest.

“You make me fuckin’ crazy, you know that? Your mouth and your voice, these tits and your hips. I’m so hard.”

He cups one of her tits to pull and twist one nipple as his other hand slides down her belly back between her legs. He cups her there, too, and swirls his fingers in her mess.

“I could do this all night,” he murmurs before taking the shell of her ear between his teeth.

Donna’s head falls back against his shoulder, and her hands cover his. She spreads her legs wide, planting her feet on either side of his knees.

“Y’want my fingers now?”

Donna nods, rolling her face against his neck.

“Mhmm, good girl.”

He slides his hand down to press his heel over her clit as he slips his long middle finger up inside her. He goes slow because he knows it’ll make her nuts. She’s almost crying when he works his ring finger into the party.

“How’re you so tight, princess?” he asks conversationally, kissing along her throat. “Slick, fat lips hidin’ this tight fuckin’ grip. Can’t wait to get my dick inside you.”

Donna groans and tries to close her legs, but he catches her in time and holds her open with his knees and his free hand. He swipes his thumb across her clit before beginning to deliberately thrust his fingers inside.

She moans, taking the skin on the side of his throat between her teeth to keep from making too much noise, but god, his mouth and hands — his whole body — are doing things to her she’s only ever read about.

He talks the whole time, and that doesn’t surprise her, but it drives her wild. He talks about her body like it’s the hottest thing he’s ever had, he narrates what he’s doing to her, and tells her about his... cock.

Donna’s never been this wet in her life for such a long period of time, and it’s all his fault. She feels like a raw nerve, superheated and naked and open. Every word out of his mouth and every languid thrust of his fingers stokes her higher.

“Listen to how wet you are,” Dean murmurs.

She nods and shudders, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “I’m coming,” she gasps.

He kisses her, letting her pulse around his fingers. Then he’s angling his hand to give her clit a rest as he slides his fingers up to press and caress her g-spot.

Donna convulses against him anew. “Holy f-”

Dean grips her chin and captures her mouth again, arching his wrist as he slams his fingers into her, skating the wide pads of his fingertips over the spongy patch of nerves behind her clit.

“Shh,” he quiets her, then looks down where his hand is working her into another frenzy. “Wish you could see yourself, pink and shiny, takin’ my hand. Jesus Christ, you’re hot.”

Dean, the hottest man alive, thinks she’s hot, and that simple fact sends her over the edge again. She reaches up and back to hold onto the back of his head, whining into his mouth as she comes again, wet.

“Oh, fuck yes,” Dean moans into her mouth.

They both look down between her legs where he’s slowed the thrusts of his fingers into her aching cunt.

Donna’s squirted before but only when she used her most intense vibe and her womanizer at the same time. If she were with anyone else, she’d be embarrassed.

“I’d apologize for makin’ a mess, but this is my bed, and that was incredible.” She sighs, feeling like a bowl of buttery noodles.

“Gimme like,” she pauses, gasping quietly when his fingers slip from inside her, and she’s finally able to pull her legs together. “I’m gonna need a minute.”

Dean huffs a laugh.

Once she rolls to the side, careful not to steamroll his very hard cock, he mutters something about her ass. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him adjust himself as he runs his other hand up the back of her leg and slides a finger along the crease between her ass and her thigh before squeezing and smacking her plump flesh.

Donna drops to her side, facing him. He grins as he pulls the throw over her. “I’ll be right back.” He dips in to kiss the tip of her nose, then stands and quickly shucks his boxer briefs to the floor.

“Could bounce a nickel off that tush, ya know,” she says, making herself chuckle and Dean blush.

He struts toward her bathroom, hair messed seven different ways, broad shoulders, sculpted back, narrow yet strong hips, that phenomenal ass, and powerful thighs. Donna’s never seen a body that defines symmetry as well as Dean’s body does.

“Rest up, princess, ‘coz when I get back, I’m gonna show you the benefits of havin’ an ass you can bounce a nickel off of.”

Donna breathes deeply and closes her eyes, waiting for him to deliver.

Dean fucking loves sex. He loves getting turned on and turning someone else on, then cranking the volume to eleven. He loves getting so hard it hurts until he can finally, blessedly, slide into slick, tight heat.

Sex is never just about coming. The payoff’s great and all, but nothing beats a warm, soft body and breathy moans.

The way she said his name when she came was the best part.

He finds a washcloth, gets it wet, then heads back to join Donna in bed.

She’s curled on her side, her golden waves a mess, splayed around her head, partially covered by the little blanket she had at the foot of her bed before they disrupted it.

She looks up with dark eyes and pink cheeks. Her full lips are further swollen from his kisses, and there are at least two obvious hickeys blooming on her collarbone and one of her perfectly shaped tits.

“You look like a little sex kitten all cozy and fuck-rumpled.”

Donna bites her lip and blushes darker, as he climbs onto the bed and knees over to her.

“Roll over on your back,” he instructs quietly, pulling the blanket away and climbing to kneel between her opening legs. He uses the cloth to gently clean her belly, hips, and between her legs. Her inner thighs are coated, so he pays extra attention there, then he snaps the cap of a sweating bottle of water and hands it to her. “Sit up and drink this,” he says, reaching for his own.

They each down their bottles in less than 30 seconds, and as Dean stretches across her to set their bottles aside, he feels her warm hands wrap around his dick.

“Whatchya doin’, princess?” he asks, sitting back on his haunches as she rises to mirror his position.

“Returning the favor,” she says with a smirk. She spits in one hand and twists that fist down and up his length. “I never knew a cock could be pretty, but if anybody’s is...”

Donna shrugs, and Dean feigns shock.

“Sheriff! Did you just say cock?”

Donna shoots him a look of playful derision. “I can talk dirty, too. Not as dirty as you, probably, but...”

“Honey, keep doin’ what you’re doin’ and lettin’ me touch you, and you can say anything you want.”

Donna shivers when Dean leans in to kiss her.

She’s seen a few cocks in her lifetime — big and small, fat and long, ungroomed and smooth. Dean’s is just what she dreamed when she’d let herself think about it. He’s thick and long, but not so big she’s afraid of it, and he feels like a heavy steel rod wrapped in fine velvet. She wants to swallow him whole, lie back and let him take what he wants.

“I want you inside me now,” she says, surprising even herself.

Dean pulls back and studies her face for a few moments before nodding and licking his lips. “Lay back,” he quietly suggests, and she doesn’t hesitate.

Her hands are open and relaxed on either side of her face as Dean drags his big hands along her open thighs and stares into her. “Condom?” he asks.

“Up to you. I’m on the pill, and haven’t had sex since before Doug was a vampire,” she replies.

Dean blanches almost imperceptibly then nods again. “OK, I’m good, too,” he says as he stretches out over her, stroking himself and spreading her legs open wide with his knees. “But let’s not talk about Dougs. I wanna show you how good my dick’s gonna feel inside you.”

Donna’s eyes roll back, and she moans. “Yes, please,” she whispers.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, guiding the head of his hard cock up and down her wet slit.

Donna opens her eyes as he notches just inside her before stilling and entwining their fingers. He’s braced on one elbow as he starts to push inside another inch, then another and another.

Donna trembles and whimpers, wishing she could open her legs wider, but the burn of the stretch is mouthwatering. She huffs a quiet sob.

Dean lowers his mouth to hers, then pulls back, muttering against her lips. “Breathe, Donna, gonna feel so good.”

She nods, bending her knees, and Dean loops his free arm under one knee. He starts pushing inside again, and she feels every ridge and bend, gliding against her walls.

He grits his teeth and swears. “Good?” he asks.

“So good.” Donna squeezes his hand in hers and wraps her other hand around his neck,

“OK,” he whispers, pulling back and thrusting all the way in. “Oh, fuck yes.”

Donna bites her bottom lip to keep from crying out loud. Dean sets a rhythm, and she holds on tight. She watches his beautiful face change with every thrust. His tongue pressing behind his teeth, jaw flexing, and inside her, his cock pulls every ounce of shiver from her bones to fill her up with heat.

“Dean, you... I can’t...”

He fits so perfectly, filling her so completely — like she was made to hold him inside her.

“Let me, princess.” His eyes bore into hers, and his hips swivel and snap. “I wanna feel you come. C’mon.”

Donna wraps her free leg around his waist, and he slowly pounds her hard. The slap of their skin and the thick drag of his cock make her shake and whine, and then she’s flying apart.

Dean swears above her, railing her through her orgasm and into his own.

He slows his thrusts, luxuriating in how perfectly her tight, velvet pussy squeezes him. He sighs, lowering his damp forehead to hers and brushing her nose with his.

As he reluctantly pulls out of her welcoming body, they kiss, soft and slow.

They stare at her ceiling as they catch their breath, then Dean reaches for her hand. “That was fuckin’ awesome,” he says, looking over at her, letting his gaze travel the length of her body. “Gotcha all messy again.”

Donna snorts a giggle, and Dean’s heart races. He bites his lip as he traces random patterns across her clavicle, then down between her breasts to her belly, finally palming the lower curve of her stomach with a hum.

“You are so gorgeous,” he says, feeling sated but really fucking thirsty. “Need anything? I’m gonna get more water.”

“Just water,” Donna answers with a drowsy smile.

“‘K, go get cleaned up, and I’ll bring ya some.” He winks, rolling off the bed to pull his jeans on.

Donna sighs before doing the same and wrapping the throw around herself. Dean shrugs into his undershirt, backwards and inside out. Donna tries to duck past him as he makes his way to the door, but he snags her wrist and pulls her in for another kiss.

“Be right back,” he says, and she grins.

“I’ll be waitin’, cowboy,” Donna replies before turning toward her bathroom door and swaying her hips because she knows just how to drive him crazy.

“Fuckin’ killin’ me,” he mutters before heading to the kitchen for water.

Chapter Six coming soon...

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#dean winchester fic #dean winchester smut #dean x donna