#then it comes and I feel like it hits me like a fucking bus and then drags me through December

[moonlightndaydreams]

What do you think Dom Channie's favorite things to do to you are (w a fem y/n) if he was given a choice to do whatever?

This is not an exhaustive list. The more I thought about it, the more ideas would come. I had to rein it in.

MDNI // SMUT

Video you masturbating in front of him. He’ll direct you to sit on his bed, leaning on his headboard. He keeps you dressed in your little black skirt and long socks. “That’s it babygirl. Open your legs for me.” He licks his lip as he hits record on his phone. He sits in his computer chair, pumping his cock with his free hand. “Now, pull your panties to the side. Show daddy your pretty little pussy… that’s it…just like that.” He’ll record you playing with yourself. Then he’ll do another of his favourite things…

Edge you. He stops you from playing with yourself once you’re close to climax, so he can climb on top of you, and push his fat cock into your tightness. He likes to squeeze inside you when you’re on the verge of coming because you’re so wet, swollen and engorged. You suck him in and grip him tight. He continues to video you, focusing now on your face now so he can capture your flushed cheeks and pornographic moans. “Such a good fucking girl. Who’s my pretty little personal porn star…hmm?”, “I should show this to the boys… they’ll probably fuck into their hands watching you.”

Finger fuck you in public. You’re only allowed to wear skirts and dresses so he has access to your pussy whenever he needs to feel you. He’s known to get you to spread your legs in the passenger seat of his car so he can slip his fingers into you while he drives. Too bad if you’re stopped next to a bus at traffic lights, because he’s not going to stop. He’ll wind the window down so if someone looks down from the window of the bus they’ll see it all. At the club he’ll get you to sit on his lap and finger fuck you the entire time. “You’re not going anywhere, babygirl. Not until you cream on my fingers”. Same at the movies. Your parents house at the dinner table. On a flight. On a train. Anywhere really.

Fuck you in department store changing rooms. He’s a sick fuck. He gets you to sample a perfume from the perfume section, then choose a pretty bra or skimpy outfit to try on… then he’ll slip into the change room and fuck you dumb against the mirror. “Listen to how wet you are…the people in the next cubicle know you’re being fucked like you’re a little cockslut.” If there’s a bench or seat in there he’ll get you to ride him. Of course the phone comes out to video you, propping it up in the corner and capturing you riding him. Then, when his done he gets you to return the clothes to the staff member manning the change rooms, knowing they heard the whole thing.

Adorns you with a ball gag and collar when he wants to fuck your ass. With your face pushed into the mattress, he takes his time to prep you properly. Then he fucks you from behind, spanking your ass hard with his hand as pounds into you. With your mouth gagged you can’t tell him to stop, and he won’t stop until he’s good and ready and you have tears streaming down your face.

Fuck your pussy no prep. As much as he loves to fuck you after he’s edged you, he also loves to bend you over the back of the couch, or table, or up against a wall, and push his cock into your cunt without much warning. He loves it because you love it. Your cunt feels so tight as your walls try to accommodate him. Turns out you love a bit of pain. And it turns him on hearing you struggle to take it. “Naww…It hurts doesn’t it, babygirl?” He’ll say as he continues to push further into you. You cry out of from the sting. You cry out because he pushes against your cervix. It’s like he’s not going to fit. But he makes it fit. All it takes is two thrusts and you’re soaking wet and then he can really fuck you hard. “Such a sick little girl, loves it when daddy hurts her.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @chansbabyg @kangnina

@itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queenmea604 @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics

#bangchan smut #bangchan hard thoughts #chan skz smut #chan smut #bang chan hard thoughts #Skz smut #Sorsha is asked

[wingedtrash]

cooper (from fallout) x reader where he rescues her from something?

Cooper Howard x !F! Reader

Kind of short, might make a smutty part 2 if y’all like it enough, otherwise use your imagination for the ending. Not proofread

Warning: mild violence, injuries, suggestive themes towards the end

The wasteland wasn’t new to you. You were born out here, so that meant you should know what you were doing when it came to surviving. But you still found yourself in bad situations.

“Oh shit-” you were cut off by the radscorpion knocking you to the sand. You hit the ground hard with a thump, the scorpion crawling quickly in your direction. You could hear more coming from other directions. You couldn’t tell how many more.

You were about to be trapped. We’re you really going to die like this. After taking on countless super mutants with their machine guns, and fire ants that could literally shoot fire. A group of scorpions were going to be your downfall.

You crawled backwards until your back hit a rock, blocking your path. You fucked up, you cornered yourself. You broke the one rule of not getting yourself stuck against a wall.

“Well fuck.” You mumbled, gasping for air. The suns rays were pounding down on you. The pain from your fall coursing through your body, you were sure to have a massive bruise down your side.

More scorpions came around the sides of the rock. You only had enough ammo to deal with one. But if you could deal with one and get it out of the way, maybe you could make a run for it. Just maybe…

But before you could put your plan into action you hear gunshots and the scorpion to your left goes limp. It’s dead, and the other 3 scorpions turn their attention to what or who killed it. You took this opportunity to make a run for it.

You hopped over the dead scorpion and ran to a nearby bus to hide behind it. As soon as you were behind the bus and had your breathing under control you realized you were bleeding. Your shirt was covered in blood, something must have cut you when you fell, you didn’t know what and you didn’t want to bother finding out. You dug through your medical supplies and found a stimpak and something to wrap your wound with.

As you were busy fixing yourself up, your savior took care of the rest of the scorpions. And came to find you hiding out behind the bus.

You hadn’t realized until you heard a man clear his throat. You stood up quick, getting your guard back up in case this man saved you for another reason besides out of the goodness of his own heart. He could be fixing to rob you for all you knew or worse.

Hand on your gun you looked up at him. “Uh-” you start, glancing over the man standing before you.

He was dressed like a cowboy, boots, hat, duster jacket. The whole works. His leather cowboy hat covered his face so you couldn’t make out any of his facial features.

“Y’know, ya shouldn’t be out here if you don’t know what you’re doing.” He drawled. His accent thick.

“I know what I-” you started before he cut you off again. “Clearly not.” He chuckled, flicking his hat up to uncover his eyes. He stared you down for a minute, waiting for your next response.

With his face now uncovered, you could tell he was a ghoul. You’d never met a ghoul that wasn’t feral before.

“I didn’t need your help.” You grumbled through gritted teeth. The ghoul was starting to offend you. You had been surviving in the wasteland since you were born.

“Well you got it.” He took a step closer to you. “And just because you didn’t need it doesn’t mean you don’t owe me now.” He was now a foot from you. “Owe you what?” You asked, getting worried.

He chuckled at your now worried tone. “Where’d all that confidence go sweetheart. Oh it’s nothing bad.” He was inches from you now. Your senses were heightening, your heart rate increasing.

Were you attracted to this ghoul? That would be the only explanation for the way you were feeling now.

“I’ll give you two options. How ‘bout that?” He asked, slipping a finger under your chin to force you to look up into his eyes.

“Hmm?” He hummed. “Fine.” You finally responded, gulping down the lump in your throat.

You could feel the tension growing. Where was he going with this?

#cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #cooper howard x fem!reader #fallout fanfic

[modernsapphicism]

I have made mistakes, I continue to make them

Summary: Of all the things that Janis had predicted how this little stunt of theirs would end, Regina George being hit hy a bus wasn't one of them. Suddenly, all the overwhelming feelings she had buried deep down all those years ago comes resurfacing all at once over the sight of seeing the person she once called her best friend lying on the ground, helplessly bloodied and bruised. Something that Janis didn't think she would ever witness in her lifetime. Or, Janis' experience throughout the bus incident.

Warning(s): Just a little angst

Janis didn't see it. Somehow she wish she saw so she could've done something, anything.

She was being swallowed by the crowd, too hyped up by the moment to notice the giant yellow bus that came hurdling towards Regina. The blood-curdling screams of the students made her hyperaware of the surrounding and the next thing she knew, the bus had stopped and Regina was on the ground, a few feet away from where she was last seen standing in front of Cady.

The whole school was in shock of what happened, the red-head more than the rest of the students behind her, knowing full well she was in the front-row of the accident. Cady wasn't moving, most likely from the shock. She just stared at Regina's body with tears running down her cheeks. This wasn't supposed to happen.

It all came so fast and so slow at the same time. Janis doesn't remember much details from that moment but she does remember screaming and running towards Regina. No one has moved an inch and there was a student on the ground, bleeding out. Janis was seething with anger mixed with sorrow.

Janis ran and screamed. She screamed to the crowd to get the teachers, get the principal, to just fucking get anybody while she hurriedly settles down next to Regina's body, desperately wanting to touch the blonde, to cradle her, but refused to do so in order to avoid hurting her any further.

She looked down even with tears slightly blurring her vision and sees Regina bloody and bruised and dirty from all the dust and dirt of the road. She sees red splotches mixed with dirt and debris of the road, some few gashes from the inmpact and scraped skin from the rough road. Regina's eyes were barely open and was threatening to close any minute. Janis kept talking to her.

Regina stay with me, help is coming.

Don't you fucking dare close your eyes.

Fuck, Regina. Dont' you fucking dare go.

Regina, dont go...

Regina, stay, please...

Regina, I'm sorry...

And with the last words uttered, Regina's eyes fluttered to a close and Janis was terrified.

The next thing she knew, Janis was being dragged away by a teacher. It didn't even register to her that an ambulance had came and every adult in the whole school had come out of the building and surrounded the scene.

She didn't want to leave her friend's side so the best thing Janis could do was to scream and run once again. She managed to slip out of the teacher's grasp on her arm and ran towards Regina who was being assisted by the paramedics. It didnt last long until she was caught by Mr.Rapp and Mrs. Norbury, their grip strong but not hurting.

She flailed around, kicking and screaming, doing everything she can to escape their hold on her but any attempt was useless. Her body was slowly shutting down as well. Tears are still streaming down her cheeks and she sobbed uncontrollably. Mrs. Norbury kept talking to her, saying that it wouldn't do any good for anyone if Janis kept screaming at the people trying to help Regina. Her voice was almost a whisper but somehow Janis registered the words despite the blaring sounds of the ambulance, the chattering of the people standing by, and the sobs of some students. Janis resigns all her attempts and stands limply while being supported by the teacher, Mr. Rapp now standing a few feet beside her, and Mrs. Norbury still holding Janis by the shoulder and her back, this time her grip wasn't meant to stop her, but rather to at least comfort the student.

A second later, a car pulls up on the scene, revealing Mrs. George, frantic and devastated. Janis hears her shouting at Mr. Duvall, asking questions to him, the paramedics, and the police, to whoever would answer her questions of How did you let this happen? Who's responsible? Where is my daughter? Will my daughter be okay?

This was one of the few moments she saw Mrs. George act like an actual parent. Despite her flaws, Janis knew that Mrs. George cares and loves her daughter a lot. Regina was her mother's everything. Janis' heart sank at the scene.

That was the last moment Janis could clearly recall before her mind blacked out.

Janis didn't even know how she came home that day. She was told that her mom had picked her up and drover her home. She was allowed to take a few days off of school to process what happened. The whole class was permitted to take some time off just to sort everything out.

Few hours later, the news broke out that Regina had died for fifteen seconds but was luckily revived. The surgery was successful but she was still in a coma.

Janis stayed in bed all week, barely moving and barely eating.

Damian had texted her just to check if she was doing okay. Janis didn't have the energy to respond and left him on read.

The next day, Damian came over. Janis couldn't hold it in anymore at the sight of her best friend. She blamed herself for everything and sobbed all night.

She shouldn't have started this whole revenge party. She only wanted Regina to get a taste of her own medicine, not whatever nightmare this is.

#regina george #janis 'imi'ike #rejanis #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #no beta fr we get hit by a bus like reggie #dribble drabble

[kyouka-supremacy]

That fic from Akutagawa's pov that remarked how although Dazai had left a bomb under Chuuya's car, at least that showed he had thought about him before going, while he never cared enough to spare a thought for Akutagawa.

#I think about it a lot... Something something the opposite of love isn't hatred but indifference #I can imagine Akutagawa and Chuuya fighting over Dazai when he left #“AT LEAST HE THOUGHT ABOUT YOU!” “HIS THINKING ABOUT ME WAS A FUCKING ATTEMPT TO MURDER ME AKUTAGAWA!” #... #It was supposed to be funny it shouldn't hurt me as much as it does......... #Trust me chuu/aku angst actually hits the hardest and you will never see it coming. #Because it’s not the kind of angst of “oh no my boyfriend has been beheaded by this magic sword that cuts through space and time ://”. #Chuu/aku angst hits right close to home when you least expect it and it’s so real in its inherent humanity it leaves you defenseless #ryūnosuke akutagawa #osamu dazai #chūya nakahara #bsd #bungou stray dogs #mine #q. #23/11/22 #I'm sorry I don't remember the fic of course I'll add the link if I find it again #It's just that sometimes you will read something in a fic and go “oh my God” and it feels like you've been run over by a bus #And other times you read a fic and it seems like nothing happened– #and then two years after you realize you're still thinking about that tidbit of lore and you'll be like “oh... oh.” #Like fics that rewrite your entire belief system without you even noticing for real

[ssreeder]

Hii! I was super bored last night so I did a quick drawing of the meditation scene in chapter 14. I was struggling at drawing Zuko cause of the way he sits. He’s described as sitting “lotus position” I looked that up and it looks so uncomfortable. That’s why I’m team #CrissCrossApplesause. Anyways I hope your doing well!! :)

AWWWWWE OMG I LOVVVEEEEE IT!!!! Haha Aang & Momo in the second picture are adorable, and Sokka’s little “I love you” face at Zuko is amazing. Thank you for this it seriously is made my day!!

#oh & ummmm hellloooooo everyone #sorry I have been so MIA the holidays tried to murder me #seriously I love the holidays I’m so cliche I love the songs and the lights and the activies #I look forward to it! #then it comes and I feel like it hits me like a fucking bus and then drags me through December #so yeah I had to take a step back and conserve energy #BUT HELLLLLOOOOOO IM BACK #& I will be coming with a new chapter asap #like this weekend asap #I pinky promise #& it’s like 30k!! #haha kill me #anywayyyyy thank you all those who sent me concerned asks or messages #or asks wishing me well and happy new year I love you all #you’re amazing but I’m not going to post any of them because hello hi I’m fine :) #im not quitting liab or anything pinky promise hehehe #OK SO LIZY MY LOVE THIS IS AMAZING #I SWEAR I PEEKED AT TUMBLR AND SAW THIS IN MY ASKS AND SQEALED #I also got lotus style from Aang in canon but shhhhhhhhhh he’s a cross cross applesauce truther #my neutral Aang haha #he’s funny next chapter #I think he’s funny at least #sokka doesn’t #but sokka doesn’t find anything funny so forget him #I love Sokka’s face in this #& the ‘I know what you are’ #seriously though dolls would love to know what he is cause he’s CONFUSED #maybe some light reading will help him understand #im sure it’ll go great #:D

[maxgicalgirl]

Besties I’m gettin real tired of the random bouts of anxiety out of the blue every couple months. I’d like to not feel like my skin is a live wire and I’ve got an elephant sitting on my chest for no reason please and thank you :/

#mental health #anxiety #generalized anxiety disorder #bipolar disorder #vent post #I just don’t get it ??? where they’re coming from ??? #it’ll be like one small thing that sets me off and then every inconvenience for several days feels like a death sentence #like oh shit I called someone the wrong name ??? nbd but also I would like to pass away now please #like don’t I take medication to make this not a problem ?? #and like 9 weeks out of 10 it works but then I’ll randomly be hit by a bus and down for the count #like genuinely I’ve been trying so hard not to throw up for 4 days now #I’m having trouble sleeping #im having trouble eating #and there is no root cause I just don’t understand :( #like body….brain…..please I want to fix it but you gotta give me some indication of where the fuck this is coming from

[the-tubort]

My DonBrothers Episode 14 Thoughts

#donbrothers #super sentai #avataro sentai donbrothers #tuborts thoughts #im losing my fucking mind #inoue you BASTARD #i HATE YOU #joking but oh my god #you cant just drop THAT as the ending to an episode ON TOP of the trailer for next week #this isnt fair #youre telling me i have ANOTHER WEEK OF DREAD #this is just too much for me joly shit #where am i #take me back to zenkaiger where my only concern was how quirky the next episode would be #not if the entire team is going to die and if tarou coming back is going to be some life or death shit #i just cannot believe this is where i am at with donbrothers #it started out so strange and odd and now i feel like im dying every week cause some new drama is gonna hit me like a bus #we had haruka going back to being a mangaka only to realise its selfish #we had kijibrother MURDER SOMEONE and not talk about it #TAROU GOT FUCKING BISECTED LAST EPISODE #and now we have this absolute fruit motherfucker substitute who absolutely looks to be a jealous rival 6th #i just cant girl i CANNOT defend this /JOKE #holy shit what am i going yo do for another week #i was refreshing nonstop to see when the episode got released and next week will be even worsr #i wasnt even like this during zenkaiger finale like what happened what is with inoues writing that has me by the balls

[sweetdreamspootypie]

reasons to have shiney sun-catcher windchimes inside the house 1) shiney 2) rainbow lights 3) makes you feel a lot cooler when you completely ignore relatively strong earthquakes because you’re busy

#I was playing snake on brower #and doing my assignment #reasons to not live at sea level: long and strong requires a get gone #whereas my ass is sitting at the top of the hill in the luxury of a king's fortress baybee #also there are so many lovely views and lovely houses across the peninsula #but like FUCK am I gunna buy a house on the far side of the airport #when the big one comes (and the 100 year storms are getting more frequent) like hell am I gunna get stuck on the wrong side of that #no view is worth that #(actually it is - I could feel it actively lowering my blood pressure and releasing good brain feels) #(I just have an inherently risk averse mentality so that's the line I draw) #(I'll pay 1.5x as much for a shitty little apartment if it means having buffers from the End of Days #then I'll die by getting hit by a bus or some shit #like god intended #born to be boring #anyway #my life #my posts #not looking up from a focus and reflex game unless it throws me out of my chair

[sargentsblu]

i am re-reading the whole trc series while i wait for Greywaren to drop and I have a lot of feelings, most of them about chapter 51 in particular

shaking crying throwing up because look at all of this

#this chapter is a fucking goldmine #like you grew up loved didn't you? just hits fucking different #who has he ever had to love him? ever? #abso-fucking-lutely not we are not doing this nope #THE WAY THEY ARGUE ABOUT COLLEGE AND JUST FUCK #AND THEN #and fucking then #the way blue just perfectly captures his feeling of belonging there but feeling like it hurts so fucking much even though and he can't #fucj 140 characters #and he can't understand why it hurts and she can't either but they both share that same feeling and it makes them si fucking CLOSE LIKE #the way they can understand each other so well and it just comes so idk easily like yeah he's stupid abt money and hes stupid rich #and shes not and so theres that huge gap there that gets under them sometimes but still they understand each other so fucking well like #do you remember when blue said that she recognized the strange happiness that came from loving something without knowing why you did #like from book one she's been accurately just understanding him and i want ti jump in front of a moving bus right now thanks #THEN OH JANE #AND i dint even want to THINK about i wish you could be kisses jane #because it nearly drove me to tears today and like #excuse you sir #excuse you miss #how the fuck #are yiu two so fucking just FUCK #trc #the dream thieves #bluesey

[blackmotionsoup]

Finally had an actual appointment with an actual therapist today; told him about my anxiety and my mom and my fears of attending therapy, and he ended the session by saying "it's about learning to ride the waves and live with these feelings forever" and my response was two straight minutes of hysterical laughter ✌️

#also he said i might have ptsd but also maybe not so thats fun!!!!! #this is objectively a good and also kinda funny thing but also i feel like i got hit by a bus #and the only hours he has available rn are during work #so i guess now i have to ask for an ada accommodation so that makes me wanna hurl #adventures in being a massive fucking nerd #ill come up with a tag for this i promise

[aph-estonia]

1 more day of this illness i hope

#it's day 4 of the illness i hate being stuck in bed i just want to draw!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #literally cannot believe like 4 days after the most crippling days of my period cycle hits i get genuinely unironically sick #so the past 10-ish days have had me writhing in bed in agony for like most of them #just woke up a few min ago i am getting better but FUCK i feel so bad constantly making my bf make me noodle soup but #with the way my throat is it's all i can eat really #also i'm stranded here cuz i gave my parents the illness so they can't come pick me up & i'm too sick to bus home so he's literally #forced to take care of me. poor thing </3 #i woke up to his grandfather giving me his cough syrup because apparently i sound so bad he's worried and now i feel bad for making #everyone in this god damned apartment concerned about me #.txt #fuck this stupid baka life

[teddybeartoji]

toji loves listening to you ramble. i really think he does. he finds your voice so soothing, so comforting, no matter whatever the fuck you're actually talking about. he's lazing on the coach at home while you're out running some errands and ranting about how stupid people can be over the phone. he laughs quietly to himself, very amused by your annoyed tone. but he loves it. he wants to hear what you've bought, where you've been, what you've eaten, where you're going next. he loves hearing you talk to the barista, never ending the call with him. he listens to you order a sweet little beverage and he's smiling, happy about the fact that you're having a good time.

he can't wait until you come home though. he already knows you're going to step inside and immediately hit him with another ramble as if you weren't just on the phone with him. he watches you kick off your shoes and remove your coat, he watches you place your bags onto the table before making your way over to him. you give him a big toothy grin and he doesn't even have time to respond because you're already falling flat on him. folding your hands on his chest, you rest your chin on top of them - staring at your boyfriend at an uncanny angle. his big arms curl around your middle and now you truly feel at home.

"arytiredfmyet?"

he rumbles a chuckle from beneath you and pinches your side, reveling in the little squeak you let out. "ya gotta speak louder than that, sweetheart."

with an eye-roll, you grumble back. "i asked whether you're tired of me yet..."

he looks so terribly comfy. and homey. and he smells so fucking good. you've never seen a boyfriend look so boyfriend. he's warm and he's looking at you with the softest eyes, despite the little smug grin that's creeping on his lips.

"ya got more for me?"

"i'm afraid so. awful, just awful things happened on the bus." you nod your head, eyes big - emphasizing your words like you almost died on your way back home and his insides feel extremely gooey. you're so close and you're warm, too. he can feel your heartbeat pounding directly above his own, the touch is just right. he knows you're tired; you've had a long day but you're still so set on talking his ears off and he loves you.

his scarred hands knead the skin of your waist. he looks like a big domesticated wolf. you want to scratch his ears. you surpress your desire to tell him that though. his lips stretch into a proper smile and your stomach fills with butterflies.

"can't wait to hear all about it, sweetheart."

#YESS WHATEVERRR I'M SOFTTTTTT #toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji drabble #toji fluff #toji blurb #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fushiguro drabble #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji fluff #fushiguro toji drabble #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk drabble #toji zenin #wtf mickey can write

[avocado-writing]

Companions reacting to Tav telling them they love them right in the middle(or after) a fight?? Like Tav is just so in awe of seeing em in action<3

oh! So sweet! Absolutely, here you go anon - writing as if you’ve seen them do something magnificent in battle & are so overcome with love that you have no choice but to blurt it out! (some stuff under a cut for being a bit NSFW LMAO) plus mentions of blood & violence

Astarion

stabs someone attacking you from out of the darkness with such efficiency they’re dead before they hit the ground

you’re blown away by the bloodlust and fury in his eyes - how DARE someone try to hurt you?

”I love you,” you choke out, wide-eyed and trembling from fear and emotion.

he’s shocked, but reaches over to give you a quick and bloody kiss before stabbing someone approaching behind you and urging you to get back to the fight

tells you later it was very silly to be distracting yourselves like that… but he does appreciate it nonetheless 😌

Wyll

we’ve seen the way he’s introduced in game, we know he’s a fan of some showmanship

you see him deal with three opponents at once, Eldritch Blasts in one hand and rapier in the other, and shout that you love him almost instinctively

when he finishes seeing them off he leaps across the battlefield, spins you, and gives you a fiery kiss before darting back up to block another sword

you feel like you’ve had the air stolen from your lungs but quickly manage to recalibrate yourself - you have a fight to win!

you can’t help stealing glances at his fine form for the rest of the battle though 😏

Gale

we know canonically he gets turned on from watching you fight.

you yell out that you love him after seeing him sling the coolest Fireball? he’s putty in your hands afterwards.

so desperate, kissing you, begging for your hands to be all over him

“you are so wonderful, my heart… to see you in battle… it set every inch of me aflame…”

gets you into a routine of quickies after battle bc the two of you are fired up. neither of you mind delaying your adventure to fuck rough and fast. the rest of the party… could do without that.

Karlach

is busy raging and does NOT hear you lol

roars in response but that could just be a normal battle roar when it comes to her tbf

she finds you afterwards though, a little sheepish, and is like “oh erm did you say you loved me mid-battle?”

”yes! you looked so cool cleaving that dude in half karlach, I was a bit swept up…”

her face goes bright(er) red and she actually giggles before pulling you into a kiss

“things like that make this all worthwhile, solider. I love you too.”

Shadowheart

you’re dying. she floods you with a cure wounds so powerful it starts your heart again and also cures, like, an unrelated ache in your hip too, lol

you look up at her, bathed in the blood of battle, and she is like an angel sent from the heavens

“I love you” you manage to croak out from cracked lips

“I know,” she says, utterly unfazed, and then pushes you to your feet to keep on fighting

does give you a sweet smooch after battle though, to let you know she appreciated it 😌

Lae’zel

“tsk’va! there is a time and a place for this!”

she swings her sword and cuts a man’s head clean off, showering you both in a rain of warm blood, and you’re enchanted with her.

has to fight people off from wounding you because you’re so distracted oops

afterwards tells you that you cannot afford to be so absent-minded in battle… but does hold you close and rest her forehead to yours, allowing a moment of connected closeness between you ❤️

Halsin

you confess it when you see him bear out and start ripping people into pieces.

he is just… incredible. all raw power and brilliance.

you shout your love over to him and the bear roars before taking the head off of a zombie in one bite

always fights nearby you anyway, but will make an effort to get closer so he can hear your words of affection better!

plods over to you in wildshape afterwards and nuzzles into you, huffing happily when you bury your hands in his fur and give him a scratch 💕

Minthara

her blade is full of the might of her god, and she is going to use it to sunder her opponents.

you’re dazzled, in utter awe when she kills a fiend with a single blow from her sword

you can’t help the words falling from your lips.

she lifts her shield to block a blow from falling on you, and in its shade she gives you a kiss and says one word:

”good.”

#shadowheart x reader #shadowheart x tav #karlach x reader #karlach x tav #gale x reader #gale x tav #gale dekarios x reader #gale of waterdeep x reader #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion ancunin x reader #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #lae’zel x reader #lae’zel x tav #Wyll x reader #wyll x tav #wyll ravengard x reader #Wyll ravengard x tav #minthara x tav #minthara x reader #My writing #request

[cherry-leclerc]

20/90 ☆ cl16

genre: humor, smut, angst, jealous!charles, post-break up, toxic ex trope, on & off

word count: 2k

After a painful break-up, you and Charles find yourselves taking part in what seems to be a never ending cycle. But there are rules that apply.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...car sex, riding, wrap it before you tap it!

req!...two in a day?? you guys are spoiledddd

It takes about twenty days to break a habit, give or take. There’s proof; like the time you scolded yourself into not biting your nails anymore, horrified with the idea of getting engaged with monstrous hands. Or when you swore you would never drink again after Singapore.

But it takes ninety to make a permanent change.

It was a mutual decision, it was the most mature one, really, too. He was getting more and more busy; higher demand. You were drowning with homework, and senior thesis, it was long overdue. Yet it still broke your heart just the same. We can try again in the future, he tries to reason when you sob against his chest, linen shirt growing damp, but never once thinks about pulling away. 

There is no future if there’s no you, you whimper. You feel stupid, desperate, and disgusting. It was not a lovely mix, but it was true. How could you move on when he was all you’ve ever wanted?

And there’s no present without you.

That was thirteen days ago, to be exact. Life was not better, but bearable to say the least. Often, you would find yourself stalking him on social media, unbeknownst that he did the same. You finally got your bachelor's you had worked your ass off for. He finally came to a renewal on his Ferrari contract. Life should be good.

Instead, you find yourself slumping against the cold wall, eyes squinting at the harsh sun. You’re well aware you’re panting like a beast, and sweat trickles down your face like a water faucet, but you couldn't care any less. Running was definitely not for the weak. 

Abandonner si tôt?

Directing your attention to a deep voice, your heart stops before excitedly pumping against your chest. You can feel it in your ribcage. It should be a crime how handsome he still is, the more he gets day by day. W-what are you doing here? 

His green eyes flicker against the rocks. Oh, you know. 

Are you here for me? You want to foolishly ask, but bite down instead. I thought you were already in Bahrain. 

Keeping tabs on me? 

Flustered, you narrow your eyes, feigning a normal state. We dated for five years. I know your schedule by heart. His soft features register a wave of shock, nervous fingers gripping his phone.

It was good seeing you. And he leaves.

It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it does. It feels as if you’ve scraped your knee, hit your heart, got punched square in the face, and got run over by a school bus. Infinite times. And he seems A-OK. It's against your better judgment to follow after him, to yell at him out of spite for no apparent reason. But you were not the same girl he used to know.

“Oh fuck,” Charles groans as you ride him hastily, headboard banging against the wall as he keeps a steady hold on your hip, where a path of fresh bruises lie. He almost laughs if it weren’t for you rolling your hips tentatively. He quirks a brow when you shake your head and finish around his thick girth, leaving him no choice but to follow along with a low shudder. 

“What have I done?” you whisper, delicate hands coming up to cover up your bare breasts. “Oh my God…”

“Ah,” he hums. “What a delightful thing to hear.”

Scurrying off his lap, you grab your wrinkled clothes, inching towards the exit as you wag your finger. “This –that– could never happen ever again. Capeesh?” 

Charles tries his best to hide his hurt, braving through with a nonchalant smile. “Never again.”

-

You’re eight days in when he texts you. Something about needing someone to talk to. You might have broken up, but who said you couldn’t remain friendly acquaintances? He demands you meet at your spot, and it's a slap in the face but find yourself there nonetheless. He rambles on and on about his ongoing stress, and the neverending pressure. You knew it got bad, but you never thought this much. 

“My PR manager is debating on whether I should date someone for the sake of increasing views. More attention.” 

Your jaw goes slack. “You called me for this?” Rushing up to your full height, you brush off a gust of dirt, struggling to not roll into a coughing fit. “What makes you think this is something I want to hear?”

The Monegasque’s face pinches up like a clam. “I thought you should know.”

You scoff. “Right…” He watches as you scarily pace the open field with a blank expression. It saddens him how suddenly he doesn’t know how to read you. “You’re a fucking coward.”

And you leave.

-

He follows through with it because there’s really no other choice. She’s nice, but not kind like you. She’s pretty, but not breathtaking like you. You get the gist. 

Her touch is unfamiliar and cold, forced. Abnormal. Her father is some kind of wealthy man who invests in prestigious hotels in his home country and is looking to make some more money as if what he doesn’t have is enough to serve him a lifetime. Sometimes, Charles feels for her. She probably wanted this the same amount as he did. 

Behind a screen, you live through all of it. Your friend nicknamed you as Bella-From-Twilight-When-Edward-Goes-Away. Only Edward comes back. Charles never did. But it's now been seventeen days. And you curse the day you run out of your favorite ice cream.

“Why am I always bumping into you?” you huff when you spot the brunette. He rolls his eyes. I’m the famous one here. I don’t need to follow anyone, unlike you. Where his cold tone finally blossomed from –you don’t know– but you didn’t like it at all. Purposefully hitting your cart against his own, you stroll off. “Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Superstar.”

Comedically, you both find yourself glaring as you check out from adjacent sides, a silent competition on who can get out of there the fastest. You came here just for that, he mouths from afar as your burn bright pink, gaze flickering towards your strawberry ice cream. You flip him off, but giggle apologetically when the cashier assumes it’s aimed towards her. 

Charles wants to chuckle in amusement but would rather eat his own foot than admit to that. Have a good day, you can hear his clerk tell him at the same time yours does too. Flinging your arm into the hoop on your tote bag, you run off as he races you with a full cart of groceries. There’s a curve you hit as you manage to squeeze through and smile back at your ex, somehow satisfied. Amidst skip, you feel a harsh push as you fling forward, falling onto your knees as a little boy winces, licks his lollipop, and walks away. 

Blood trickles down your knees as you fiercely turn back to look at a regretful loser. “Is it really that deep?” you spit out, ears turning bright red from your reasonable anger. He tries to help you up but that only receives him a slap in the face. “Great. I look like I just got my period. Unbelievable.” 

“You just hit me,” he speaks in disbelief.

“You just pushed me,” you retort pointing at your injury, flesh being creepily visible. “On purpose, I might add.”

The Monegasque scoffs, gently massaging his aching face, dark brows pointed at you like knives. “You’re one crazy fucking girl…”

“Thanks, I get that a lot.”

It's all a fateful haze, the way you end up in his car. You suppose it starts the moment he presses on helping you unload your groceries, as some sick apology. But it’s only my ice cream. But he sheepishly shrugs. Now blood paints his driver's seat as you sit on top of him, and occasional grunts overflow due to his red cheek. “I can’t have sex with you,” you mumble against his swollen lips, chest heaving as your tinted windows begin to fog up. It was still early, but you didn’t care. 

“And I shouldn’t want to have sex with you, and yet.” 

“Yeah,” you pant, kisses steaming up. “Okay then.”

Shame lingers on your drive back home, and grows even deeper when you realize your strawberry treat has melted.

-

You would never take yourself as a self-driven person; not like most people. It was only one of your many flaws, but in this very moment, bent over the kitchen counter, you promise to become one.

“I can’t keep going back to him,” you groan over the phone as Lily attentively listens to what she considers gossip, and you consider a mid-life crisis. “We broke up months ago, why do I keep doing this to myself?”

“Perhaps because two still care for one another.” And because you know you still love him, and he loves you, she wants to add but stops herself when you glare coldly. 

“I am so over him, are you kidding? I’ve never been better. In fact, I’m going out tonight. First man I see boom! Fuck him. Just like that.” You click your fingers magically for emphasis. 

Lily’s face drops as her eyes zigzag towards something behind her screen. Before she can try to talk you out of it, you hang up. She’s obviously joking, the Chinese girl stutters when Charles freezes, midway from hanging Alex a pair of joggers, since he had forgotten his own. The green-eyed boy forces a dark smile, tipping his head and heading out without a goodbye. 

“I should probably warn her.”

You weren’t picking up–you weren’t going to. It was starting to hit you how stupid this all was and you did not need your friends erasing the last bits of determination you had within you. Beaming at a group of guys, you can’t help but flutter your eyes as they quietly fight over who gets to have the first move. Dibs, if you must. Swallowing the last bit of your awful drink, you start making your way over before a warm hand grips your wrist. “No. I’m not doing this again.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “And you’re not doing that either, we’re leaving.” It takes a lot of mental strength to not kick him in the shin and run off, but you can’t help but slap him once again as soon as he drags you out into the alleyway. A habit you’ve picked up, I see, he growls.

“Why are you still doing this?” you whimper, glassy eyes looking up in complete defeat. “You broke up with me. I agreed. We’re supposed to be moving on from one another. Why can’t you at least try to let me go?”

It’s a punch to the gut, the sound of your raw voice, broken and weak. He takes a clumsy step back, chest tightening from the tense situation he has wheezed himself into. “Believe me, I’m trying but I just can’t…”

Your nose is runny, mascara coats you like a baby racoon, cheekbones are splotchy as if you’ve just been hit, and you were still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Which is part of the reason why he can’t walk away from everything you've been through. 

“Well you’re not going to try, but I am. For real this time.”

-

It’s been ninety-two days, a lot, but not enough at the same time. But there was a piece of you that knew you weren’t missing him as much. So, maybe–it was. Enough, you suppose. It still hurts a tiny bit sometimes, watching him pose with fake smiles, or maybe they’re genuine, you can’t really tell the difference anymore. The way his eyes learned to sparkle for her over time. Fake can become real, it appears. But you being yearnful didn’t mean you weren’t moving on for your own sake. This was good, a new start. The kind you now looked forward to.

And it only took ninety-two fucking days.

taglist: @urfavnoirette @lpab @d3kstar @namgification @myownwritings

*feel free to let me know if you would like to be included in the general taglist!!

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 #scuderia ferrari #f1 fic #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 x oc #charles leclerc x female oc #charles leclerc x female reader #formula one

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

#palestine #israel hamas war #israel hamas conflict #hamas #on war #essay writing #personal essay #rant post #stop terrorism #israel #writing #palestinian lives matter #jewish lives matter #jewish and proud #jewish identity #jewish muslim solidarity #on grief #on religion #antisemitism #anti zionisim #purim 2024 #chag purim sameach #judaism #israeli palestinian conflict #am yisrael chai #kvetching #jumblr #mims on middle east #המצב

[hysteria-things]

PLEASE MAKE A MEET AND GREET PART 2

♛ TWO ° •

ʚ♡ɞ 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ʚ♡ɞ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dom!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you miss matt like crazy, and can’t help but to send a dirty photo to him…

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, suggestive, masturbation (female), there might be more idk

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 751

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i swear ghost and BFB part two will be coming soon🫡

thank you for 2.6K btw i love you all very much :)

texting your celebrity crush is like what happens in movies or wattpad, but the fact that you're doing just that still blows your mind. however, it's not as mindblowing when you had sex with said celebrity crush three days ago.

biting your lip, you giggle and tap on your phone like there's no tomorrow.

“are you even watching the movie? you seem to be more intrigued with your phone instead.” hannah says, leaning to the coffee table to grab the remote and pause the TV. “you’re never so glued to your phone. is it a boy? do i know him? what does— is that a hickey?”

pausing mid-type, you place your phone down and try to cover the healing hickey on your neck with your hair. “…no.”

“oh my god, it so is!” she gasps, smiling wide. “who the hell are you fucking? is it the person you're texting? when did it happen?”

“you ask a lot of questions, you know that?” you joke, trying to maneuver this conversation.

“y/n, come on. i’m your best friend. best friends tell each other everything.”

you sigh. she’s right, you guys do tell each other everything. clearing your throat and fidgeting with your hands, you try to find words to explain the recent events in your life.

“so… remember when i went to the bathroom at the sturniolo’s tour? and left you standing outside for an hour?”

she rolls her eyes. “yeah.”

“what if i told you that i actually didn’t go to the bathroom, and matt snuck me on the tour bus and… bentmeoverthetableandfuckedtheshitoutofme?”

she looks at you with eyebrows furrowed, confused as hell. “what?”

you exhale. “matt bent me over the table and may or may not have fucked the shit out of me?”

her face now morphs to shock, trying to read your body language to see if you’re lying. “what the fuck? is that why you came out limping and looking like you got manhandled?”

“yes.”

she blinks, shaking her head to take in this sudden information. “was the dick at least good?”

biting your lip, you nod. “duh.”

“hello?” you say innocently into the phone, running your hand from your stomach into your underwear.

matt’s leaning against the wall in a hallway that the venue has, far away so nobody can see nor hear him. “hi, y/n.” he chuckles.

you pout, rubbing your clit hard to get some sort of sensation rubbing through your body. “hi, matt.”

he licks his teeth and smiles smugly, knowing exactly why you wanted him to call. “whatcha doing?”

with fluttering eyes, your finger moves to your folds, moving up and down on your slit slowly. your breath hitches. “t-touching myself.” you whine. “thinking about you.”

as much as matt wants to do it himself, he can’t. the ache in his pants will last until after the show, that’s for sure.

“is that so?” he teases. you feel your wetness start to pool. “what’re thinking about, hm?”

“about the other night.” you squeeze your eyes shut, biting your lip. after a few long strokes, you’re wet enough to slip a finger inside.

he sighs, adjusting the phone on his ear. “you mean when i bent you over the table and bred you? or when i tongue-fucked you to where you couldn’t stand?”

moaning loudly, you insert a second finger and move them rapidly. “b-both. god, i miss the way you feel.”

“i wish i could fuck you dumb again.” he says lowly, hearing your pants and arousal all in one. “screaming so pathetically beneath me. isn’t that right?”

even though he can’t hear you, you still nod your head, arching your back when that spot gets hit at just the right angle. “yes, matt!” you moan loudly. “i miss you. i miss you so much! fuck, i’m going to cum. please let me cum.”

you ramble on as he stands there quietly to listen. the way your sounds get louder and faster the more your orgasm builds. “go ahead. nobody’s stopping you.”

clawing at the sheets with your eyes rolling back, you rut your hips on your fingers when you feel your release coat them.

“good luck tonight,” you mumble, trying to catch your breath.

he laughs, checking the time with a sigh. “i have to go. i’ll make sure to win for you.”

you hang up the phone, and not even a minute later, a picture comes rolling in. you love that he’s acting like you didn’t just cum to his voice.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

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