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feedingtheflockministry · 2 years

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There Are Consequences for Your Words Towards Others

By now most people online (or those that still watch the news media) have already heard about the tragic elementary school shooting that took place in Uvalde Texas in May 2022. From childhood friends to family members of the shooter are interviewed by reporters we start to see what motivated him to murder, as well as the type of personality he had.

The Washington Post reported this about the shooter, “In middle school and junior high, Ramos was bullied for having a stutter and a strong lisp, friends and family said. Stephen Garcia, who considered himself Ramos’s best friend in eighth grade, said Ramos didn’t have it easy in school. “He would get bullied hard, like bullied by a lot of people,” Garcia said. “Over social media, over gaming, over everything.”

His grandfather, who Ramos lived with due to a fight with his mother said his grandson was quite and did not talk much. When the event happened he was in disbelief that his grandson could be responsible for such a thing.

From these statements from those that knew the shooter we can see several things at work here that lead up to this tragic event. First is Ramos experienced heavy rejection and was under constant fire from his peers with insults, mockery, isolation, and abuse. The second thing we see is he was an introvert. Introverted people many times do not open up and share with others what they are going through. So they bottle up their emotions the best they can so they can go about their daily lives. When these two factors come together though they either self destruct on their own, or take others out with them.

A lot of times these people, especially males, are told, “Get over it, be a man, and tough it out.”, but this is the worst type of advice you could possibly ever give to someone. It is neither loving or kind. In fact the victim that these words are being told to are not seeing you as a friend or family member trying to comfort them, but rather an ally of those that hate them, insult them, harass them, and make life absolutely horrible.

These tragic events that we see one person perform are not entirely their fault to bare, but also the people that shared in the creation of this individuals mental turmoil that caused a community to suffer as well as many to die.

Jesus taught us this in Matthew 5:21-26 this, “You have heard that the ancients were told, ‘YOU SHALL NOT COMMIT MURDER’ and ‘Whoever commits murder shall be liable to the court.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother shall be guilty before the court; and whoever says to his brother, ‘You good-for-nothing,’ shall be guilty before the supreme court; and whoever says, ‘You fool,’ shall be guilty enough to go into the fiery hell. Therefore if you are presenting your offering at the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your offering there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother, and then come and present your offering. Make friends quickly with your opponent at law while you are with him on the way, so that your opponent may not hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the officer, and you be thrown into prison. Truly I say to you, you will not come out of there until you have paid up the last cent.”

If calling someone a “good for nothing” (meaning a worthless human being) or calling someone a “fool” (stupid, moron, dumb, and so on) is worthy of the fires of hell itself, then how many of us today are in serious danger? But think about it for a second, why would Jesus mention this at all if there was not a significant reason for it. He is obviously stating here that words damage others on some level.

Consider this, if each insult was viewed as a grain of gun powder, and people continued to add to the pile, eventually something or someone will spark that pile and many will get hurt in the process. Each person that donated a “grain of gun powder” to that pile holds some level of accountability for the lives lost, or the emotional damage the victim inflicts on others as much as the person who did the crime.

Every person should take the opportunity to analyze their words spoken to others, correct them, and ask for forgiveness from those that they insulted or harassed. Tragic events such as the one that happened in Uvalde Texas could be avoided if we would just do as Jesus told us to do.

Walk in love towards others no matter their differences. Treat others like you would want God to treat you. For all people are created in the image and likeness of Him. So when you mistreat others, you are not only mistreating them, but you are mistreating the One in Who’s image they bare.

#mental health #self worth #name calling #insults #harassment #social media #bullies #rejection #mental wellbeing #jesus christ

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imyourbratzdoll · 10 months

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𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒂𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒅𝒐𝒘𝒔

🕊️a whore's fairytale masterlist🕊️

summary - y/n jane porter (you) decides to prove men wrong by searching for the lost man, and you happen upon him after insulting a bunch of baboons, only to realise that you will never leave again.

warning - smut, dubcon, chase, marking, insulting animals, swearing, oral sex, creampie, kidnapping/held hostage?

18+ only please, the gif and headers I use aren't mine.

Warnings and Reminders - Please do not plagiarise, copy, repost/republish, adapt, or translate any of my work on any social media platforms, apps, or third-party sites. The only platforms I post my work on are: Tumblr and Wattpad. I do not own any character of any franchise (Marvel etc.) All my works are fiction and may be dark or triggering content: READ ALL WARNINGS BEFORE PROCEEDING.

You huffed as you stalked the forest, searching for a man who had been lost to the world. Explorers have searched high and low for him but have yet to succeed. You were determined to be different, to prove to them that you could find the lost man. Secretly though, you knew he would be feral, not even knowing what a woman was and the pleasure you could bring him. You hiked up your light yellow dress, white-gloved hands scrunching the material between your fists. You spin when you hear a sound, looking up into the trees, and your eyes widen when you notice the many baboons staring down at you.

“Oh, hello.” You look closer, squinting your eyes and scrunching your nose. “You’re quite ugly creatures, aren’t you?” You stumble back when they begin to screech, looking ready to attack, and you put your hands up. “I didn’t mean to offend. It’s just…” Your words are lost to them, and you start running as some of them jump from the trees and chase you, the others swinging through the branches. You pick up your pace, dodging trees and rocks, trying your best not to trip or get caught. You feel your breath shorten, and your lungs burn. A scream escapes you as your foot gets caught on a root, but before you can fall, something or someone grabs you, swinging you away from the baboons.

You screw your eyes shut, not daring to look at what had grabbed you, feeling it would be better if you didn’t see what fate had planned for you. Your brows scrunched as you felt whoever or whatever was placing you down softly, and your eyes widened when you opened them, noticing the man everyone had been searching for. The lost man had saved you from being torn to shreds, and the excitement caused a jolt between your legs. You scanned his physic, noticing how tanned and beautiful he looked. Your eyes landed on his face lastly, eyeing the moustache and imagining what it would feel like in between your thighs, his unbrushed hair all curled and wild, like him.

Tangerine’s head tilts, doing the same to you. He was curious, never having seen someone like you before. He’s seen others that look like him, but none so… Beautiful, so soft looking. He licked his lips, scanning you like you were a meal for him to feast on. He glared when you lifted your hand, and you returned it with a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you… I’m Y/n Jane Porter. Do you have a name?” Tangerine grunts, lifting his hand and cautiously placing it against yours, thinking of his words. You squeeze your legs together at his touch, causing his eyes to snap down to the sweet nectar that lies between your thighs.

Tangerine’s hand moves from yours and taps his chest. “Tangerine.” Your eyes widen as the words fall from his lips, and you offer a soft smile.

“Like the fruit?” Your head tilts, knowing another name that would fit him. Tarzan stays on the tip of your tongue as you watch him.

He grunts again and stops, looking around before roughly grabbing you, causing a gasp to pass your lips. “Danger.” He growls. You are lifted onto the large man’s shoulders again as he begins to swing away just in time as the baboons swing, missing you by inches. Tangerine lands roughly on the ground. After a while of swinging and making sure you were no longer being followed, he lets you get off of him. You fall as your legs feel shaky, and you stumble back. He spins, eyeing you more, gazing at your exposed legs.

You clear your throat, brushing the dirt from your dress. “Thank you again.” Your chest moves up and down as you breathe heavily. You try and keep your eyes from looking at the bulge hidden behind the tiny cloth. Tangerine’s eyes lock to your heaving chest. You watch as they become black, filling with feral lust. He stalks towards you, backing you into a tree. You feel your cunt pulse, the large man turning you on. “W–what are you doing?” You gulp, squeezing your thighs together when he traps you against the wood.

“Me do you.” Tangerine growls. He grabs your hips, dragging you onto the ground and climbing over you. “Stay… Still.” He grunts, trapping you with his large body and rubbing his bulge against your dripping cunt. Tangerine had never felt something so incredible, and he hadn’t even explored that far yet. He sits on his legs, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust and hunger, growling as your dress becomes annoying. Tangerine grips the material, shredding it and causing you to squeal and squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself clench around nothing. “Annoying” You don’t know why, but this feral man's few words turn you on.

You whimper, subconsciously spreading your legs for him, watching his mouth open and close as he glares between your legs, watching your pretty pussy drip. Tangerine growls as he dives in, lapping at your sweet cunt. Your back arches, and you let out a scream that echoes through the many trees. Your hands curl into the ground, legs slamming shut around his head as he continues to feast on your cunt, licking and sucking, wrapping his lips around your swollen pearl and sucking, flicking the sensitive little bud with his tongue. You move your hand into his hair, gripping the untamed locks, pulling him closer. “O–Oh! That feels so good!” You exclaim, feeling the band inside you tighten, ready to snap. “Keep going, please!” Your eyes screw shut, and your toes curl, but suddenly everything stops, and you open them again. “What are you doing? Why did you stop?” You felt furious, sexually frustrated. This was the most pleasure you had felt in your entire life, and you couldn’t let it slip from your fingertips.

Tangerine growls and your eyes widen when you watch him grab himself. The tiny cloth has tented massively and keeps nothing hidden. He rips the pathetic material from his body and throws it aside, tilting his head as you make an embarrassingly loud choking sound. You look at him and back to his cock repeatedly, staring with your mouth open. “That’s not going to fit inside me.” Even as you say those words, your walls clench as you watch his cock twitch.

Tangerine grunts, shrugging. He crawls on top of you, forcefully placing your legs onto his shoulder and tapping your gaping hole with his swollen tip. “Fit.” You gasp as he begins to push in, his hair covering his face as he puts his head down, never having felt something so good. “Good” The grunt he lets out causes you to clench around him and his hips to thrust forward, forcing his way deeper inside you. Your head rolls back into the dirt, closing your eyes as he picks up his pace, releasing the animal buried deep inside of him. Tangerine slams hard and fast into you, his cock so large it feels like he’s in your stomach. If possible, the bulge that forms causes him to become even more feral.

Your hands fly up and grip his arms, digging your nails into him before whimpering when he pulls out and flips you around, pushing your face into the dirt and lifting your hips before plunging back into you, grunting and growling as he fucks you like an animal. Your mouth falls open, and your eyes roll back, clawing into the ground and clutching onto it, trying to find something to ground yourself too. Tangerine grips your hips, pounding against you, moaning when he feels you grip his cock like a vice, dragging him deeper into you and allowing him to hit your sweet spot repeatedly. “Ah! Oh! Fuck… Right there!” You whine, fucking and grinding your hips back into him, wanting to feel him more.

Tangerine pulls out again, your mind too fuzzy to get angry as he grabs you and pushes you against the tree, wrapping your legs around his waist and reentering your sweet cunt. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, mouth open in a silent scream as he fucks up into you, his lips against your neck, marking you as his. You are so close, feeling your walls pulsate and clench around the feral man, feeling so dirty and full. “I–I’m close!” Tangerine grunts, slamming harder into you, pinning you against the tree, not caring if the bark marks your flesh. Your vision goes white, and your body goes slack in his arms as your orgasm rips through you, squeezing his cock and coating it with your cream.

A growl rips through the large man. Tangerine bites into your shoulder, fucking deeper as he feels his balls tighten. He had only experienced this when he’d touch himself, teasing his cock and balls until he was close to cumming before stopping and repeating. He knew the release would feel amazing, causing him to continue to thrust, his hand moving between your bodies, locating your swollen, sensitive clit and rubbing. Your back arches, causing another orgasm to rip through you, and Tangerine groans, releasing his cum deep inside you, filling you with thick amounts as you squeeze his cock.

Your head slumps against his chest, your chest moving up and down heavily as you try and catch your breath. Your walls pulsate around his still-hard cock, wondering how he could still be ready for more. Tangerine cups the back of your neck, grunting as he makes you look at him. He grins, leaning close as he slowly begins to thrust again. “Mine.”

The growl can still be heard as you realise you will never be able to leave again, but maybe that was a good thing.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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batfambrainrotbeloved · 30 days

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Bruce Wayne, mentor to many- father to none.

I want the angst of B having to come to terms that he doesn't know ANY of his kids not anymore at least and maybe never and the fact his kids are just- used to it?

Visiting Dicks apartment, he finds a picture of him smiling while surrounded by a bunch of little kids in spandax uniforms. Turns out he'd been a gymnastics instructor for about four years now and his most recent team had everyone qualify for state. (Bruce didn't even know he still practiced)

Jason stopped accepting Wednesday night patrols, but when he looked into it he found out that was the night he went to DND nights with his roommates every week. The roommates he met last semester after he decided to go to college and get an english major. (Bruce didn't even know he had applied)

Checking the library he found a small pedastal plague put up by Alfred displaying just one book. It said Cass was the author. Apparently she had gotten super into writing and published a book talking about language deprivation and lack of accomidation for deaf/hoh children born to hearing families. She had a book signing last month, Alfred had gone and grabbed this copy now on display (Bruce didn't even know she liked to write)

Tim finished a case early and let it slip he needed to sign off early to "meet up with his boyfriends" and hung up before Bruce could process. It only took a small glance at his middle child's latest social media post to see him alongside Superboy (what was his name?) and a blonde boy he didn't recognize. Both were leaned in to kiss his cheek and the caption said "Happy 3rd anniversary!!" (Bruce didn't even know he was interested in boys)

Steph's birthday came around and Bruce got her a new account and shoved a couple thousand for her to buy whatever she wanted. But he quickly noticed a pattern of everyone getting her- cat supplies? Apparently She had adopted a cat about a month ago to celebrate her new apartment, Mister Mystery was his name, and she had asked everyone for supplies instead of other gifts. (Bruce didn't even know she had moved)

He decided on some impromptu father-son bonding and tries to track down his youngest. But Damian is nowhere to be found. He gets pretty close to calling an emergency meeting but the moment he messages Oracle she reminds him Damian is in Chicago. Damian had won an art competition at school and his piece qualified for a gallery spot. The entire family had gone days ago and he was due back the next day. (Bruce didn't even know he cared about art)

Then Duke- his youngest in terms of time spent. But one he had grown fond of just as fast as the others. Especially working the day shift the time they spent was limited. Bruce got them both lunch, but it wasn't until halfway through eating that Duke had turned to him with panicked eyes and asked if the stew had shellfish. Duke had a severe allergy, thankfully Jason had been just up the street and had an epi-pen ready before they took him to Leslies. (Bruce didnt even know he had any allergies, let alone one so severe)

The worst part? There was no blow up. His kids didn't take his idiocracy as a personal insult or even raise a fight. They just rolled their eyes and moved on. As everyone crowded in the room, surrounding Dukes bedside he could hear Barbras voice. "Its not your fault, Batman may be omnipotent, but Bruce doesn't know anything really"

He wasnt meant to overhear or maybe he was, Oracle had always been petty But he couldn't refute it.

"But you have us"

Well- thats just it wasnt it? Even when Bruce was absent- his kids had each other. But was that ever meant to be enough?

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captainreecejames · 9 days

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Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill.

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up.

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating.

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him.

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque.

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x fem!reader #Charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #my stories #read #my writings

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theemporium · 6 months

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[2.4k] when pictures from a past relationship come to light, the whole world decide to weigh in what they think. but it's your boyfriend who is right by your side, knowing who you are and who he loves. it's you and him against a world of scrutiny, hate and jealousy.

based of this request!

You were honestly surprised you hadn’t chucked up the contents of your stomach in the toilet yet, though you suspected you were close to doing so soon.

It was meant to be a normal day. It had started off as a normal day. By some grace of a superior being above, you had the Monday off and you had spent most of the morning just lazing around the flat. You tidied, you sorted out a food shop, you did the laundry you had been holding off on for the weekend. You sorted the place out a little in preparation for Lando coming home.

You hadn’t been able to fly out and join him due to some projects you were working on for university. You decided it would be easier to stay home to finish them off, and Lando respected it even if he pouted incessantly before he left in hopes you would change your mind.

He had messaged you that his flight would be landing later that afternoon, so when lunchtime came and you were fighting back a yawn, you saw no harm in a nap. You had been curled up on the couch in one of his hoodies and a thick blanket over your body, slowly blinking as you tried to focus on the documentary playing on the tv but it was a losing battle.

You didn’t even know what time it was when you woke up. All you knew was that you could hear your phone buzzing and pinging and it was hard to enjoy the warm comfort of sleep when you could have sworn the whole building could hear your phone. You blindly reached for it, your vision still bleary when you peaked them open and saw more notifications than you ever had in your life.

Your heart stopped when you saw the notifications spread across all your social media platforms.

But it dropped to your stomach when you saw the reason behind your trending name.

It was a series of misconceptions, twisted lies and bitter words that were overwhelming your phone screen. Every tweet was worse than the last, every insult stung a little more, every stranger thinking they had a place to say or assume anything about you absolutely fucking sucked.

And you get it. You were dating someone in the spotlight, it was stupid to assume you could stay in the shadows. You could handle being photographed in the paddock. You could handle fans wanting to follow you on social media. You could handle people tagging you in cute edits and wholesome posts. You could even handle the offhand hate you knew most people only posted due to jealousy.

But this? This was something else.

SLUT. WHORE. CHEATER. CLOUT CHASER. DISGUSTING.

The words were blurred and intertwined between photos that you recognised, photos that were indeed yours. They were photos from mere months before you met Lando, making them recent in the eyes of the public. They were photos that shouldn’t be posted for someone who’s happily in a relationship.

Your vision welled with tears, your breathing became erratic and every part of you knew you should’ve just thrown your phone across the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop reading all the comments. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop putting yourself through that pain.

You felt like your whole life was being thrown in your face.

Suddenly, all your female friendships and interactions were being analysed and scrutinised. They were pulling up pictures with friends from over the years, pointing out the ‘obvious’ signs that they should have noticed before. They were pulling up comments you had left on friends’ posts, claiming that you were blindly unfaithful to Lando for everyone to see.

Suddenly, your integrity to your relationship with Lando was being questioned. They didn’t see you as a fit match for the Brit. You didn’t fit the mould of a perfect WAG. You were an anomaly, you couldn’t be trusted, you weren’t good enough for him.

Suddenly, every piece of your life was being torn up, criticised under a microscope and judged for the whole world to voice their opinions on.

Suddenly, you weren’t a human anymore. You were just an object for them to throw their insults, judgements and abuse at. They didn’t care for an explanation or a response or a story, they had made their minds and they seemed inclined to push that narrative to anybody who would listen. And that narrative only seemed to be solidified by the fact you had missed the most recent race weekend.

Everything blurred into a mess.

You didn’t know at what point you slid off the couch and curled up on the floor, or when the sun started to set outside. You didn’t know when your thumb started to cramp from scrolling, or when the strain behind your eyes started to become more stabbing and irritating. You didn’t know what time it was, or even acknowledge the sound of the door lock turning.

“Babe?”

It was like a distant sound, like your head was underwater.

“Baby?”

And a part of you wanted to say something, to open your mouth but you couldn’t even bring yourself to utter a word.

“Hello?!”

And then, like the fogginess had been lifted away, he was kneeling in front of you. He was in front of you, his expression hinting confusion and his brows furrowing in concern and his touch was so soft and gentle as he reached out towards you.

“I–” A choked noise left your lips, like the words got stuck in your throat and muddled together. But it was enough for Lando to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into his chest. And as much as your mind reeled at the idea, your body sunk into his embrace.

“Hey, hey, shhhh,” he cooed in a gentle voice as his arms tightened around her even more. “It’s okay. Take your time. There’s no rush.”

And it felt twisted, in a weird sick way. Here he was, comforting you and holding you and reassuring you. Here he was doing to you what you should be doing to him as you reassure him everything wasn’t what it seemed, that they don’t have the facts—that nobody believed the truth, that you would never cheat on him in a million years.

“It—” You took in a gasping breath, your lungs burning for some fresh air. “It—It’s not….it’s not true. I-I promise. Lando—”

He pulled back, the crease between his brows deepening slightly as he looked even more discombobulated than he did moments ago. “What? Baby, what are you on about?”

You froze, your body tensed in his arms as a wave of discomfort washed over you when you realised he had no idea. He hadn’t seen the pictures. He hadn’t seen the comments. He had no idea, and somehow, that made it even worse.

Scenes flashed before your eyes of him looking through them, of him seeing them for the first time. An image played in your head of his gentle comfort quickly turning into bitter anger. You imagined him pulling away, scoffing, tearing up. You imagined him believing them instead of hearing you out.

You imagined him saying the same bullshit the rest of the world was saying.

And deep down, you knew he never would. That’s not who he was, that’s not your Lando. But for a split second where fear clouded your judgement and your stomach twisted in discomfort, you imagined that maybe your boy was capable of the same hatred that tainted the world.

“Baby?” You heard his voice gently calling out, dragging you back into the moment as coldness seeped into your body. The concern was back again, overwhelming and engulfing and something quite like guilt bubbled inside you about the whole thing for reasons you were unsure of.

“I was in a relationship before I met you!”

The words were blurted out, a few beats of silence passing between you before Lando even seemed to react to the outburst. He nodded, his hands still holding onto you like he was keeping you together.

“Yeah,” he murmured, nodding his head. “I know, babe. I was in a relationship before I met you too.”

“No, I—” You shook your head, letting out a shaky breath. “A few months before we met, I…was seeing someone.”

“Okay…baby, I’m not gonna lie to you, I don’t know where this is going or what this has to do with why you’re upset,” Lando admitted, something in his chest aching at the sight of your puffy, red eyes.

“Because,” you took a moment to pause, to bask in the few moments before you felt like your life was truly about to hit the fan. “Because she was a girl. I…I was with a girl before I met you. Well, she isn’t the only one I have dated, but she was the most recent one and some pictures got leaked and the world seems to think I just used you and—”

“Deep breaths, babe, deep breaths,” he said in a soft but commanding voice, watching the way your chest heaved with the staggered breaths. “Just like that f’me.”

“Lando,” you whispered, your whole body practically shaking from the overwhelming emotions inside you whilst he remained completely calm.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, and this time it was your turn to be confused.

“What?” You blinked a few times. “Why are you apologising?”

“Because being with me puts you in a spotlight you didn’t ask for. It makes people think they have some right to snoop around in your life and voice their opinions on it,” he confessed as his hands stroked down your arms before taking both your hands in his. “I’m sorry I have put you in that position. And I’m sorry they don’t value your privacy, I can understand how upsetting that is when you never asked for this kind of attention.”

“I—”

Yet, you cut yourself off for a short moment. His words weren’t completely false. It was a big change in your life from going as a nobody to a somebody for such a large group of people. It was weird having aspects of your life picked apart. It was weird that people felt they were so entitled to parts of your life. But out of everything you said, the fact he was holding onto that alone made you almost feel like you were going insane.

“And you’re…I just…” You shook your head, looking down at your joined hands where Lando’s thumbs were tracing random circles on your palms. “And me being with a woman is okay?”

Lando frowned a little. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

And it was such a simple question.

Because he was right. Why should it be such a problem? Why shouldn’t it be okay? Why should you having previously been with a woman be such a scandal or detail to latch onto?

And maybe it was the years of feeling like you needed to hide who you truly were. Or maybe it was the shifts in behaviour whenever you did open up about your sexuality to someone. Or maybe it was all the times it was held over your head that made you feel like you had to keep it a secret, that you had to hide the truth, that you had to make sure the least amount of people in the world knew that you were attracted to men and women because of the countless people who made you feel utterly shit in every being secure in that fact alone.

Maybe it was the realisation that there were people out there—people like your Lando—who would accept you without any questions asked because whilst your sexuality is a part of you, it’s not your whole identity.

“I don’t know,” you breathed out, a shake in your voice as the overwhelming urge to cry once again washed over you. “People just said—”

In seconds, Lando pulled his hands away from your grip and raised them to hold your face, the touch gentle but comforting as his thumb swiped away the few stray tears that ran down your cheeks. He gave you a soft smile, and something about it seemed to ease some of the tightness in your chest.

“People are gonna say a lot of things, that is an unfortunate reality I have come to learn over the years. But, the only people’s opinions who should matter to you are those of the people you love and the ones who know you,” he spoke, everything about his presence so soothing in contrast to how you were before he arrived. “I know you, baby. And I know what kind of person you are and how amazing you are. And I know that people can say what they fucking want about you, but I know the truth.”

You let out a small, breathless laugh.

“I’m sorry they made you feel like something was wrong with you,” he continued, a small frown on his face as he uttered the words. “Baby, it’s a part of who you are. And I love every part of you. And if you like men and women, then so be it. I am just grateful that I am one of the people you have decided to love,” he confessed to you, something like a cheesy grin on his face when he said it. “I am one of the luckiest fucking guys about because of it.”

“I love you,” you murmured, your eyes falling shut as he rested his forehead against yours,

“I love you too, baby,” he murmured back, his nose brushing against your affectionately until he saw your lips twitch upwards. And just when the silence had passed for a few moments, he spoke up again. “Plus, I haven’t seen the photos but I am pretty confident in saying that I am probably way hotter than your ex—”

You snorted, the noise loud and unbashful but it made your boyfriend grin at you as you tried to stop yourself from grinning.

“You’re impossible,” you grumbled, laughing as you shook your head.

“Yeah, but I’m right,” he replied with a cheeky smile, so boyish and so Lando.

“You’re much hotter,” you reassured him, even if you rolled your eyes a bit.

“Knew it,” Lando grinned as he leaned down to kiss you, finally happy to give in to the one thing he had been craving to do since he left over a week ago, with social media and the world a distant thought in both of your heads for the time being.

Lando knew you and loved you, and that was all that mattered.

#lando norris #formula one #f1 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #formula one fic #formula one one shot #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fic #f1 one shot

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hauntedrain · 3 months

Text

Part 1: Unexpected | Max Verstappen x Fem Reader |

mixed Social media AU summary: Max stumbles upon a twitch streamer who peaks his interest

✮▹A/N: Love you guys and thank you for 1,000 notes on my last post but also 100 followers! love you guys

✰▹Warnings/Notices: Used random names for readers friends, also i really didnt know how to format this tbh so might be a bit weird and make no sense. NOT EDITED.

Part 2: Here!

liked by 25,456 others

@Y/N: Stream was lovely today, sorry for missing the last stream. love you guys and see you on the weekend! ALSO new video out on YouTube with Theo and Lorelei.

Y/N has posted a youtube video!

YouTube transcript!

Y/N: Its actually really pretty out today, I expected it to be a little more gloomy. But its rather sunny out.

Lorelei: Why are you talking like that?

Y/N: What do you mean? Just because you still talk like a 5 year old doesn't mean I have to stay on your level.

Lorelei: Anyways...

Theo: Did you hear that they're planning an f1 race here?

Y/N: F1? Like the vroom vroom thing you like?

Lorelei: PLEASE the vroom vroom thing.

Y/N: I DONT KNOW WHAT IT IS!

Theo: Yes the vroom vroom thing. Anyways yea they're planning it.

Lorelei: What team do you like?

Theo: McLaren. you?

Lorelei: Maybe Redbull or Ferrari.

Y/N: Preferably I like the one thats winning. so...

Theo: Redbull.

Y/N: got it.

Y/N: I wanted to buy this coat from down the street from my apartment but it was like $150. At that time I really thought about where and if I should find a rich man to marry.

Lorelei: F1 drivers are rich.

Theo: Like rich rich, mainly the popular and good ones but thats besides the point.

Y/N: As much as you guys try im not gonna get into F1. And also why is this video just you guys insulting me over not knowing anything.

Theo: We just think you'll like it.

Y/N: Cars going in a circle for 2 hours? Would rather watch football

Lorelei: But you like football.

Y/N: Yeah thats my point?

Max Verstappen has gone live!

Max Verstappen has ended the stream!

Liked by Max verstappen & 32,345 others

@Y/N: Why are people tagging me in F1 stuff? And whos Max verstappen? HELP.

user8: LMFAO MAX IN THE LIKES. THIS POOR GIRL.

user9: I think you should do a reaction video or stream to everything.

↪ user10: she would need Theo and Lorelei for help.

user11: MAX CAN TELL YOU.

↪ Y/N: WHO TF IS MAX?

↪ Lorelei: Babe please come to my room. I'll explain everything.

↪ user12: MAKE A VIDEO OUT OF IT PLEASE OR STREAM IT.

↪ Y/N: Will do?

Y/N has gone Live!

titled: HELP ME.

⭒❃.✮:▹A/N: Guys im deeply sorry if this makes no sense and everything is confusing. IDK what im doing. but love you guys and I hope you enjoyed.

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starkidmunson · 4 months

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glitter & crimson

It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.

He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?”

“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.

“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.

“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.

“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.

A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.

harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything?

eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.

harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks.

Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.

eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.

harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.

Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.

harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.

That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.

eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.

harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.

The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.

harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.

Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.

__________

A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.

“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.

“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him.

“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”

Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”

“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.

But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game.

When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.

In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.

“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face.

“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.

“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.

“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”

There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”

“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.

Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?

It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.

“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.

“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.

~~~

The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes.

A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.

“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.

“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.

“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.

In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks.

“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile.

“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”

The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh.

“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”

“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.

_____

There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.

“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.

Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”

“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him.

Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.

“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin.

“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.

As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.

____

It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs.

He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance.

Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.

It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him.

The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.

“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.

“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.

“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.

“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”

“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.

“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”

Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”

“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”

“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.

As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one.

“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.

“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.”

She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”

“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.

“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.

“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.

“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.

“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.

Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.

“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”

Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.

“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip.

“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”

________________________________________________________

Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.

I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!

#steddie #steddie hockey au #steddie rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson #hockey player!steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #corroded coffin #stranger things #starkidmunson writes #glitter & crimson

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bizbat · 4 months

Note

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

#bizbat #dc #jason todd x reader #jason todd headcanons #dc headcanon #red hood x reader #red hood #jason todd #dc x reader #lian harper #roy harper

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peridot-tears · 1 year

Text

Hey MDZS fandom. I want you guys to be careful interacting with this person.

If you don't already know, Chinese people have had a long history with cultural erasure when it comes to taking on English-language names. It started with imperialism, and continues as a way to "assimilate" and avoid mockery of our language in western countries.

For Chinese diaspora like myself, it's another form of racism we face, to the point where some of us are reclaiming our names in everyday life. Here's an article about this movement happening across Asian diasporas in the United States -- just to name one instance out of many.

The responses to this post reflect that:

You can see that my comment assumed "good faith." However, OP deleted these comments and blocked me. (That didn't stop other people from calling it out as well, though I have to assume that if OP was so offended by my comment, the next few people will receive the same treatment.)

I honestly didn't like whipping up the diaspora statement -- that I wrote with multiple Chinese diaspora fans of MDZS, all of us hailing from multiple different countries and backgrounds, our ancestry coming from completely different regions of China -- because it meant that we were encountering another microaggression.

If you ever wonder why MDZS and danmei fandoms in general seem to be so bereft of Chinese diaspora voices, that's absolutely because of these microaggressions: Someone makes a joke, writes a story, writes some meta, that is culturally ignorant at best, offensive and harmful at worst, and when we gently correct them, explaining why it's racist, the person in question shuts us down, dismisses us, gets defensive, or worse.

Regardless of where you are -- fandom, social media, on the street, at work, at school -- as long as you are interacting with other people, your words matter and affect other people. That includes being racially offensive, even if you didn't intend to be. It's how you respond to the people you've insulted that reveals your character, how willing you are to be complicit in their mistreatment.

My rule of thumb has always been this -- if multiple people, including those of the culture you've just made a microaggressive joke about, find it unfunny, racist, or harmful, then you listen. Dismiss or ignore them, then yes -- you absolutely are racist.

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sl33paholics · 6 months

Text

Baki's Reaction To Your Ex Trying To Get You Back Headcanons! (and a mini story ig)

Uhm.....it's 6am as I write this and I'm giggling my ass off

To say that Baki would come up and beat the shit out of your ex on the spot right in front of you and others is an understatement.

Baki is more of a quiet observator. Rather than confrontational, Baki might choose to observe your ex from a distance, assessing the encounter with a calm demeanor, possibly seeing it as an opportunity to reaffirm your commitment.

Baki's not an idiot. He can choose to downplay the situation, opting not to give your ex's attempt much attention, focusing instead on maintaining the positive dynamics of your relationship.

Known for his actions more than words, Baki might subtly intensify his efforts to show affection and support, reinforcing Baki's commitment through deeds rather than direct confrontation.

Baki knows how much you love to post yourself on social media. The latest fits, shoes, or with your friends. He's aware that your ex still follows you, even though you unfollowed him many, many months ago. Expect Baki to always hype you up in the comments under your posts on Instagram by spamming hearts and down-bad shit as well, he's most likely getting pinned every time.

Hell, if you're not posting yourself, you're sharing photos of the two of you on dates and random shit. Such as the you two at the gym. Baki's arms always wrapped around your shoulders or his hands gripping your hips. Baki can tell your ex is salty, he stalks his story on an alt account, LOL!

Sometimes, Baki could sense how annoyed and bothered you are whenever you'd see accounts named "shien_giveaway_6997" viewing your story. It's so obvious! Baki values honesty, and he'd engage in an open conversation with you about the situation, discussing any concerns or insecurities. Baki doesn't want a pretty woman like you stressing out over a man who couldn't keep his dick in his pants.

If you don't want to speak to him about the whole situation, Baki could respond with affectionate gesture, like a surprise date or a thoughtful gift, to reaffirm his commitment and show that he values and appreciates you. He could even use humor and make jokes about your ex's attempts to diffuse the tension.

However, it could only be so long until the man could entertain your ex before he was going to be pushed off the edge.

Baki could opt for a straightforward conversation, expressing his feelings and concerns calmly while speaking to the man via text message or phone. While not confrontational, Baki gives off a subtle warning vibe, a non-verbal cue that communicates the depth of his commitment and suggests that attempting to disrupt the relationship won't be taken lightly.

This could go two ways. 1) Your ex could simply back off and respect your wishes that your current relationship holds. Or 2) your ex could simply be cocky, shouting at him over the phone, insulting him to insert dominance, and other things to Baki as he's just there sitting silently listening to him yap yap yap yap yap yap yap -

It just so happens that Baki and your ex stumbled across each other while in the city.

Guess you can see where this is going.

Seeing Baki's size, your ex laughed and berated him. How can a man his height cuff YOU up? He couldn't believe it. How low were your expectations? He was tall and built. Baki? Sure. He was ripped but SHORT.

"I don't have time for this," Baki simply said, making your ex raise a brow in confusion. "(Y/N) is waiting for me, I can't have my love waiting." Baki walked past the taller figure, his hands in his pockets. He stopped once your ex pulled on his shirt, tugging and pulling Baki back.

"A short boy like you can't do shit!" Your ex would spat. The smell of cigarettes reeked and made Baki want to cough in his face. "Suddenly coming 'round and stealin' MY girl away from me?! I should punch you in your shit-"

It's safe to say that Baki hit this man with a two-piece combo. A slap and a roundhouse kick sent that man straight to sleep on the sidewalk. Baki stared at the unconscious man before sighing. Continuing his journey towards your place.

Hours later, your phone begins to blow up from your friends of the picture of your ex on the sidewalk earlier that day. You confronted Baki only for him to pout and say, "He ruined my shirt :("

You couldn't be mad at him. At least your ex knew not to fuck with you and your boyfriend anymore.

#anime #black writers #female writers #poc writer #black reader #x black reader #fluff #baki #baki smut #baki son of ogre #baki hanma #baki the grappler #headcanon prompts #headcanon #jack hanma #yujiro hanma #kaoru hanayama #crack fic #baki headcanons

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wilwheaton · 9 months

Quote

The seeds of today's political division and reporting began with Ronald Reagan. While lying to the press, Reagan also set out to destroy it. He himself was quoted in the New York Times on Oct. 6, 1985, saying, "A substantial part of the political thing is acting and role playing and I know how to do that." Of course that's literally all it is today. What else is different? Well, the press itself is different too. Reagan destroyed the FCC's "fairness doctrine" and encouraged media consolidation. Decades later, as social media rose to take the place of the corporate media's diminished role in providing vetted information, the slide accelerated. People hiding behind anonymous handles rather than their actual names hurled insults and threats. Twitter offered "verified" names as a way to combat that — until Elon Musk took over and turned the verification process upside down, once again making anonymous insults and trolls fashionable. Every tool used to legitimize and verify information in the last 40 years has evaporated under the push to make money. Fewer companies own most of the corporate media. Fewer independent news platforms exist — and they often get lumped in with bloggers and trolls. The end result is chaos. Confusion.

How did we get here? The dumbing of America, from Reagan to Trump and beyond.

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glow-worms-are-believers · 2 months

Text

Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3

Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)

Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell.

That was another thing. Danny.

Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation.

It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.

And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.

No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that.

He could research. And so he did.

And found nothing.

Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.

No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.

It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.

Damian breathed out slowly.

It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.

An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.

Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.

“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”

That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.

“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”

Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.

“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.

“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.

“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”

“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.

“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”

Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far.

“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”

“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”

Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it.

Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.

“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.

“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”

This was getting insulting.

“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.

“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”

Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it.

“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”

“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.

“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.

“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.

“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.

“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”

Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.

“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.

No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny

“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening.

“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.

“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.

“Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”

Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.

“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.

“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.

“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”

It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try.

There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.

Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.

And then finally-

“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.

So this was it then.

“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”

“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.

“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”

“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.

“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted.

He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.

Whatever. He turned away and started walking.

It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.

It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted.

The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #Might be too soon but I just gotta say that the progression from fake lovers to bitter exes is extremely funny to me #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

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mewhenimanangel · 10 months

Text

everywhere ʚɞ miles morales x reader

pairing: 42!miles morales x reader

synopsis: you were a wreck. it’s your mom’s one year anniversary since she passed. miles helps you feel better

wc: 3.0k

warnings!: swearing, death, death jokes, violence, kissing, n word used

prev, next

you begrudgingly pulled your blanket off you and went to the bathroom to brush your teeth. you were fighting so hard to not crawl back in your bed and sob into your pillow. it was the anniversary of your mom's death and all you wanted to do was cry.

you got in your uniform and put sunscreen and lotion on your face, not bothering to do anything else. you grabbed your bag and your phone and went out your door. your dad was standing there making coffee when he turned around to walk over to you and embrace you in a hug. "good morning baby" he pulled you back to see your quivering lip.

"i know, i miss her too. say what how about i make her special pasta that she always made. or at least attempt to." he joked. "yeah sure whatever" you fanned your tears and went out the door. safiya was standing outside your building waiting to walk with you. "hey bebe how you doing?" she rubbed your back. " i'm fine" you faked a smile. she knew you were lying but she didn't say anything and you two just walked to school.

your classes went by quickly, probably because you spent 90% of them staring out the window. currently you were in physics class doing the exact same thing, it's been a month since your schedule switched and you and miles grew a little closer, as close as he'd let you. you'd exchanged numbers and followed each other on social media. and he would join you and safiya on the walk home, silently walking at your side while you chat with your best friend.

miles looked through the side of his eye and noticed you hadn't even picked up your pencil since class started and were just staring into space, dejected expression on your face. he nudged your shoulder and whispered "what's up with you today, chiquita?"

"mm? oh, nothing." you mumbled looking back down on your desk. "you ain't even write your name, ms bennett's gonna get on your ass" he snickered. you just snorted a bit before going back to stare out the window. it was a rainy day out, how ironic.

he could tell something was off with you so he decided to help you out. "here, i'm done" he moved his paper to your desk. "just copy it" he told you.

you smiled at him before writing down everything he had on his paper, on yours. "you look different today" referring to your bare face "in a good way" he added when he saw your eyebrows furrow. "um thanks" you finished your paper just in time for the bell to ring.

you were in the bathroom washing your hands when the melanie came in. "oh..hi y/n, we miss you in math" she said with a condescending smile on her face. you rolled your eyes and dried your hands before getting ready to leave. "oh by the way since your fine daddy's single, do you think you could give him my number." you face twisted in disgust and you turned around and shoved her up against the wall. "fucking say shit bout my parents again and i'll fucking kill you." you snapped, pushing her head back against the wall.

"bitch is that a fucking threat?!" she pushed you off her. "yes bitch! i'll fucking gut-" "girls, where are we supposed to be??" a hall monitor interrupted coming into the bathroom. you grumbled an insult before pushing pass her and heading to the roof.

miles looked over from his conversation and saw you storming off from the bathroom, melanie following shorty after with the monitor trailing behind her. "yo i'll see you later aight" he dapped his friend up and followed behind you.

his eyebrows furrowed when he saw you sneak through the rooftop door. he followed through the door and snuck up the stairs. he saw you hunched over on the ground and he could hear your sniffles from here. he didn't mean to slam the door but he did and it startled you. you darted your head over your shoulders, quickly wiping your tears when you saw him. "what are you doing here?" you put your head back on your knees. "saw you when you stormed outta the bathroom, you looked upset. then i saw you come up here and i wanted to make sure you ain't kill yourself" he joked, making you giggle.

"why you up here anyway? and why you crying?" he asked, sitting down next to you. "i told mr brown i'd water the garden." your voice was breaking. "doesn't explain why you're crying ma" he looked at you. you didn't say anything for a moment, taking a deep breath before you opened your mouth. "today was the day my mom died, like a year ago today" you told explained. "i promised myself i wasn't gonna cry today but that fucking cunt melanie loves to piss me off"

"that why you said you fought her?" he asked. "mhm" you mumbled. "well she's a fucking bitch. don't take that shit from her." he told you, you nodding your head. "but...i get it. my dad's dead and when he died, niggas thought something was funny? so that's why i had beat lincoln's ass" he said. "god the people here suck so bad. m'sorry about your dad." you told him. "it's aight, i'm sorry about your mom" you smiled and nodded your head, holding back the tears that dared to slip down your face. "it's alright to cry ma. don't hold back i'm not gonna judge you"

you blinked and your tears came flowing down your face, you leaned your head on his shoulder and he didn't move it he just let you cry. "i just wanna go see her grave, but it's all the way in westchester" you wiped your tears. he stayed silent for a moment "then let's go see it. i have my license and i know where my dad's old car is" he told you, rising to his feet. "what? we can't do that. we have school and you can't just take your dad's car." you rose to yours too.

"what, is he gonna stop me?" he said making you giggle. "that's crazy. you don't have to do this really it's fine" "it's alright, if it'll make you feel better i don't mind. come on let's go through the door in the green hallway" he said going through the roof door, you following behind. you opened your phone to tell safiya you were skipping with miles.

'miles is taking me to my mom's grave??😭

we're ditching come with us' you sent the text.

'girl WHAT 💀' she sent.

'that emoji feels familiar 🤔' you sent back.

'stop. anyways i cant come, bout to start a test. just be safe baby. i love you' she sent back.

miles scoped out the hallway making sure no teachers or monitors were around. he pushed through the door and you two made a break for it down the street. "wait, i wanna get something" you pointed to the grocery store down the street.

you both went in and you picked up a bouquet of pink roses, her favorite flowers, from the front. you went to another aisle and picked up a pack of ferrero rocher chocolates "these were her favorite. one time my dad stood her up with work on valentine's day so she and i watched her favorite movie and ate a whole big pack of these. we were so sick afterwards. after i threw up she gave me medicine and sang me to sleep" you lightly laughed, biting your lips to hold back your tears. "she sounds great" he said giving you a comforting smile. "she really was"

you checked out and miles took you to an old garage, tugging open the door, a black buick sat on the other side. "does this even still work?" you asked opening the door. "should. if not i'll just make it" he turned the key in the ignition, engine sputtering in response. he groaned, opening the electrical system. he pulled out two wires, hitting them together until a spark emerged and the engine started. he looked at you with a cocky smile "there, all we need is some gas" "how do you know how to do that?" you asked putting on your seatbelt. "don't worry bout it" he drove off.

after stopping at a gas station and filling up the tank, you two drove the hour and a half drive to westchester graveyard. he let you control the music and would occasionally glance over at you while you just stared out the window. he watched you put your legs up in criss cross apple sauce and doze off, smiling at the way your mouth fell open and he could hear your soft snoring.

he pulled into a nearby parking lot and tapped your thigh "we're here" he told you. you stretched and rubbed your eyes, looking around to make sure it was the right place. "you were snoring mad hard" he teased you. "i was not!" you gasped. "yes you were" "nuh uh, i do not snore" you retorted. "yes you do, could barely hear the music" he lied. you rolled your eyes fondly and opened the car door, grabbing the chocolates and the flowers.

he followed your lead to her headstone and you let yourself plop down next to it, resting the flowers down gently. "hey mom" you leaned your head back. "miss you, god even after a year it still doesn't feel real" your voice was breaking and miles figured he'd back off a little, sitting back on a bench nearby.

"i'm a junior now, me and safiya are still as close as ever but i've been making new friends. dad and i have been weird but if feels like it's getting back to normal now?? his cooking still sucks ass tho" you giggled "oh i got a job now, i'm a barista at mel's. i've been letting my hair grow longer and i redecorated my room. i started reading those poetry books that you had always wanted me to and brandy's been in my playlists on repeat, maybe it's silly to do this because i like to think that you know all this already cause you're watching over me."

"i miss you so much mommy. god i wish you would just come back, how is this not some stupid joke" you wiped your tears, but they wouldn't stop streaming down your face. you turned around and kneeled, knees sinking into the soil beneath you, hands resting on top. you couldn't control it anymore you let out a broken cry and shoved your face in your hands.

you felt miles tap your shoulder and pulled you to your feet. you looked at him, face scrunched up with bloodshot teary eyes. he moved a hand up to your cheek wiping away the tears that rolled down your face. "ugh this is embarrassing" you grumbled, shoving your face in his chest, and he put his arms around your shoulders. "it really isn't. i get it y/n, trust me it'll be okay. i'm not saying it's gon stop hurting but it'll hurt a little less with time." he told you.

he reached in his book bag and took out a small pack of tissues. he handed them to you so you could wipe your tears off. "put your leg up" he told you putting his hand on the underneath of your knee. you put your hands on his shoulders to support yourself and he used the tissues to clean your knees. you let out a small laugh "thanks. really thank you so much for this, you genuinely did not have to do this at all." "it's alright ma"

you checked your phone seeing a missed call and texts rom your dad. 'where you at? school call me tell me you not there??' 'answer me before i call the police' they read. you giggled a little before telling him you were in westchester, which he did not take lightly and told you you were in trouble but right now you didn't care.

you went to the bench miles was sitting on and grabbed the chocolates. "you wanna eat some with me?" you asked him, holding out one to his hand. "you not gonna eat till you throw up right. i don't fuck with vomit." he put out his hand. "no!" you laughed which made him smile.

the two of you sat there on the bench for about another half an hour talking about whatever. your parents, your lives outside of school and knowing each other, etc. while eating the chocolates. you stopped yourself before you got too into them. "ah we should probably start driving back" you told him. "you sure?" he looked at you. "yeah, dad said i'm in trouble when i get home anyways" you got up and closed the container.

"well. since you're already out can i take you somewhere?" he asked. you twisted your mouth in thought "but my dad-" "well if you're already in trouble when you get back why not stay out a little longer" you let him convince you and got in the car for the drive back to brooklyn.

when you got to brooklyn he drove straight past your buildings and to a nearby unused subway station. you went down and he walked you all the way to the end of the platform going onto the side of the tracks. "alright are you trying to fucking kill me" you hesitated in following him. he chuckled "relax ma, no trains run here anymore it's an old track" he put his hand out to you and you took it and you both walked down the tracks. "alright we gotta hop the fence" he told you.

"are you crazy" you furrowed your eyebrows at him. "it's not even that high up, i'll go first" he climbed the fence and jumped down, swiftly landing on his feet. you followed behind and lost your balance when you were on top causing you to fall over but not before he caught you and put you down. "will you chill out" he laughed at your annoyed expression.

you kept walking for about a minute until you saw a wall full of graffiti. "my uncle takes me down here sometimes and we just paint" he told you, tossing a can at you. "you wanna do a mural for her?" he asked you. you smiled and nod your head "what does she look like?" he asked you. you pulled out your phone and opened the photo album you had dedicated to her, picked a photo and gave him the phone.

"wow she's beautiful. you guys look like twins" he said holding up the phone to a blank part of the wall. "she should fit right in there." "you think i know how to spray paint?" you said shaking the can. "i can help you."

and so he did, he found a color to match her skin tone and her facial features. he did most of the artwork, putting you on his shoulders to do the hair and the top of the rose. you stepped back and admired the finished product. it was your mom with a big smile on her face with her signature red lip, you added details such as your matching necklace, the beauty mark on her cheek, her smile lines and a hand that held a single pink rose.

you smiled and tears stung your eyes, mix of happy and sad but mostly happy. you looked at the time and saw it was almost 9 o'clock. "ohh my dad is gonna kill me" you groaned. "do you think you could take me home now?" you asked him. "yeah it's mad late" he picked up his bookbag and you guys walked back out of the track.

he drove the car back to the garage and you grabbed your book bag before you guys got out, walking to your block getting to the front of your building. "thank you for today, like seriously. i don't know anybody who would've drove me out for two hours just to sit at a grave." you giggled. "you were sad and i didn't like that, wanted to make you feel better." he nudged your shoulder. "you did make me feel better, thank you" you threw your arm around him, pulling him into a tight hug wrapping around his waist.

you threw your arms up to his face, pinching his cheeks "who knew you were such a big softy morales" you said in a playful baby voice. he rolled his eyes before looking into yours, face softening. your hands were still on his face and his were still around your torso.

your eyes flickered down to his lips before going back to his eyes, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. you quickly pulled back "oh sorry! don't know what came over me" you frantically apologized. "don't apologize" he whispered before pulling you back in. you threw your arms around his neck, hand rubbing against his fade. his hands were on your waist pulling you closer to him.

you were interrupted by your dad poking through the window five stories up. "y/n! you had me going crazy wondering what the hell you were doing and you out here kissing boys?!" he shouted, baffled expression on his face. "girl get inside" he told you through gritted teeth. "goodnight miles" you giggled pulling away from him. "g'night" he said back to you. "and boy who your parents is? cause i will be giving them a call! got my damn daughter out at night kissing all up on her" he pointed at miles, grumbling the last part. "dad relax!" you shouted up at him. "get inside!" "what does it look like i'm doing?!" you shouted back, opening the building door.

taglist ౨ৎ

@prettypink-princesss @itsnotino @r3d0n33 @iluvprowlermiles @jmsanchoo

#NIA WRITES ࿐#across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles x black reader #spider man: across the spider verse #prowler miles #earth 42 prowler #black reader #fluff and angst

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outlanderskin · 2 months

Note

Lauren Lyle doesn't have crazy shippers trashing her and her boyfriend, hiring private investigators to prove she and he aren't actually together or creating fiction about her and her co-star Cesar. Plus, not every celebrity is into promoting and sharing their private lives on line with million of strangers. And in spite of all the garbage shippers thrown Cait's way for 10 years, she's managed to be with Tony, who she married and had a child with. By the end of 2024 OL will be just a memory. She will finally leave it behind and rarely see Sam who will continue on the same path making B movies and shilling his booze to whatever is left of OL mommies.

First of all: we are coming from an Easter holiday, I don't know if you celebrate it in a religious sense, but we usually leave these holidays lighter and happier, so why so much bitterness? Second: why are you hurting yourself by reading shippers' blogs, where you will find opinions contrary to yours, which will make you angry and cause you suffering? Now to answer: no one can take away from Lauren and Cesar the merit of having been light and open from the beginning. And this has always been easy for them because they have nothing to hide. Nobody ships them, because from the beginning the friendship between them is something that can be seen, in fact. From the beginning they post photos together with their respective partners, from the beginning they don't create mysteries when they meet. Everything we see from the two (and from anyone who has social media) is what they want to show us and Cesar and Lauren have shown us all these years how spontaneous they are. They just act like normal friends who have nothing to hide. About Stalkers you forgot to mention the fans who travel (and even move) to Glasgow to try to meet and get a glimpse of C's home life (unsuccessfully). He also forgot to mention the fan who went to an awards show and screamed T's name as if he were a celebrity, making him practically run away from the venue in mortification. Well, these people are not shippers, you don't have to complain about them here on my blog. And about celebrities and social media: anyone who really doesn't want people/fans to know anything about their life acts like Tobias Menzies. You don't know what his garden looks like, his dishes, his sheets, the walls of his house, his relatives, where he was possibly last week, not even the last female friendship he made, simply because he doesn't post anything of this and doesn't even talk about it in interviews. Posting about personal life and then complaining about privacy is contradictory to say the least. And lastly: based on your bitterness and the fact that you try to read things that hurt you: have you ever thought about going to therapy? I know you'll take this as an insult, but I'm serious. Sometimes destructive behaviors are in small nuances of our lives and we don't realize it.

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hiorisgf · 1 year

Text

↪ft. Bachira, Rin, Sae

↪gehehehehheehehhehe hi

Boyfriend bachira! Who tries to match their footsteps with you, slowing down his steps and making sure that he'd step at the same time as you, using the same foot as you just for something silly like feeling a bit closer to you than he already is.

Boyfriend bachira! Who frowns when you open the door of your car yourself and quickly rushes over to you—closing it and forcing you to go back in the car again. Your confusion soon turns into realization when he goes and open the door for you, urging you to go out. You can only deadpan at his eccentric actions.

Boyfriend bachira! Who likes to take videos of you, whether it be the moments where you could compete with an angel when it comes to looks—or the moments where you seem as though the embodiment of unflattering, he takes it all and keeps it safe in a memory card; compiling videos from the start to the end of your days.

Boyfriend bachira! Who makes a diary exclusively about you. Your likes, dislikes, trivias and others. Things he's learned and the feelings he's felt about you. And there's also the fact that at the corner of every page, a small doodle of you and him together is always there.

Boyfriend bachira! Who often plucks a flower from the ground and promptly tears off its petals, all the while he chants a famous chant, 'they love me, they love me not' and then giggle like a middle schooler when it lands on they love me, but persistently continues if it's not.

Boyfriend bachira! Who acts uncharacteristically fragile on nights where the stars shine the most, clinging onto you and never letting go. He asks you to stay by his side with a tone you've never heard from him before, it's delicate and quiet—words you would never have thought to describe bachira. But it's true, and so you hold him tighter, a silent promise to never leave him.

Boyfriend rin! Who leans his umbrella more towards you so you don't get hit by the rain. Yes, even if it meant him recieving the shorter end of the stick and having his shoulder get rained on. (and then possibly getting sick)

Boyfriend rin! Who smirks when you achieve something, small or big. His smirk is especially wider when you've done exceptionally well on the one thing you worked hard on, as though silently bragging 'that's my love'

Boyfriend rin! Who makes sure to remember all the important dates like your anniversaries and surprise you with gifts, the color red never leaving his cheeks as he shakily offers to you a bouqet he spent nights on, trying to find a way to make it as perfect as possible for you.

Boyfriend rin! Who calls you an idiot and berates you if ever you forgot your coat during cold weathers but still, he'd offer you his coat with a roll of his eyes. He flicks your forehead, calling you names a lover shouldn't to their beloved, but you don't find yourself hurting because of the way he readily gives you his coat.

Boyfriend rin! Who sometimes scrolls at your social medias, smiling ever so slightly as he finds the posts that included you and him. Because even if he denies it vehemently so, he does infact, like it when you proudly show off your title as his lover.

Boyfriend rin! Who's unbelievably stiff the first few times you cuddle together. He's unsure of what to do and the concept is unfamiliar to him. But eventually, as time passed by, it had become a necessity to do it on normal days, and especially during the days he feels down. Because the feeling of laying on somebody's arms—his beloved's arms helps calms him down from his thoughts.

Boyfriend sae! Who pushes you to do the things that you like in a way that can be seen as insulting. Although whether it sounds insulting or not doesn't matter because at the end of the day, it always ends up working.

Boyfriend sae! Who stares at you, completely inlove with the way you look so happy in whatever you're doing. A small smile graces his lips as he watches you giggle for the umpteenth time, and it's clear to anyone that he's utterly and absolutely whipped for you.

Boyfriend sae! Who later makes it a habit to flick your forehead whenever you say or do something stupid (albeit weakly, he wouldn't want to hurt you that much). He sincerely enjoys seeing the little pout you make when he does it.

Boyfriend sae! Who forces you to talk to him about any problems you're facing with because he'd really rather not see your face tainted by a frown, and the sight of the light in your eyes dimming into nothingness. He'd much prefer to see the scheming grin on your face as you pull yet another prank on him or anybody else.

Boyfriend sae! Who unintentionally does things that can be misleading, like pulling closer as though coming for a kiss, yet pulling back right after he takes the leaf from your head. He only realizes it when he sees you look flustered, steam coming out of your ears, and a ghost of a smirk appears on his lips.

Boyfriend sae! Who likes to kiss you on the crown off your head as you drift off to sleep. An out of character glint in his eyes as you greet him goodnight.

#blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x y/n #bllk x you #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #meguru bachira x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae x reader #@@.xylvie's works

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