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#throwing it back to 2008
princeturnip · 4 months
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*send*
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inspector-montoya-fox · 8 months
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Lol
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harrykim · 1 year
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my love for reading bad fanfiction versus my highly developed sense of cringe. who will win because it sure isn't me!
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swordsofsaturn · 10 months
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every time you guys are like "omg fall out boy played THIS song tonight" i'm like holy shit holy shit. no way. that's my favourite. led to me start thinking ok what my perfect fob setlist even look like. impossible question. my perfect fob concert would just be take this to your grave > from under the cork tree > infinity on high in full. and scene
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youdontloveme-yet · 11 months
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heartofhubris · 2 years
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Now the son's disgraced He, who knew his father When he cursed his name Turned, and chased the dollar But it broke his heart
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carowleysposts · 5 months
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What happened to Aziraphale and Crowley between 1941 and 1967?
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It is well known by the fandom that Aziraphale realizes he’s in love with Crowley after Crowley saves him and his books from the n4zis in 1941. That moment marks the shift of their relationship, when Aziraphale sees that not only did Crowley know him well enough to save his books, but also was there for the sole purpose of rescuing him - because he cared. This moment led to their most romantic adventure yet, which involved the car “is there anything i can do for you in return?” scene, the magic trick performance, the “trust me” moment and a very intimate, private, candlelit dinner.
They had crossed a very visible line in their relationship, you could see it in the way they were looking at each other, being more open, talking and drinking together. They were acting romantically towards each other, even if they couldn’t admit it or talk about it.
But then, the next time we see them, it’s almost like they moved backwards in they’re relationship. Aziraphale is practically unable to look directly at Crowley when he first gets in the car. And then we get the iconic, yet heartbreaking and confusing “you go too fast for me, Crowley”. And you can see that Aziraphale looks almost mournful after saying that.
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I saw a post on twitter comparing the two car scenes - the one where Aziraphale is practically throwing himself at Crowley and then the one where he’s hesitant towards him.
And it made me think. Like, whatever happened between those two car scenes has an impact that lasts for many years, as we can CLEARLY see that 2008 Aziraphale and Crowley were still a bit colder and more distant than their 1941 selves. Their relationship backtracked a lot from that candlelit dinner. And i don’t think that’s a plot hole, i truly think there’s something we don’t know yet.
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Of course, after the events of season one, they’re back to being really close, their dynamic is pretty much restored and we can see them hold hand in the bus - which David Tennant has confirmed happened, and it is heavily implied that Aziraphale stays at Crowley’s that night, where they did the body swap for the trials.
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BUT! In the first episode of Season 2, Aziraphale mentions that he had to do the “i’m sorry” dance in 1941. It definitely happened after that candlelit dinner, so could that event - which led to the apology dance - be connected to why they had a temporary falling out? What was it that happened after that dinner? Are we going to see more from 1941?
It has been the only time period that was shown in both seasons, and it was perhaps the most romantic and significant time they’ve spent together prior to the events of season two. Perhaps they went a little too far and weren’t prepared for that? Perhaps they’ve miscommunicated and had a big fight? I don’t know, i’m hoping our dearest @neil-gaiman has an answer for that.
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Also, when Crowley says “no nightingales” before kissing Aziraphale, Aziraphale seems to understand perfectly what he’s referring to. He looks absolutely crushed after Crowley says that. So it led me to believe something in the past made them associate “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” to their relationship and perhaps talk about it. And i believe that, if i am correct and they have talked about the nightingales before, it was in 1941. But then, what do I know?
I would REALLY love to see your theories as to what happened between them after that dinner, if anything at all. Also, does anyone wanna be moots? My posts have been very successful but i’m not getting followers and i really want to meet more of you.
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txttletale · 11 months
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My question about growth/the venture capitalist mindset is like … how have venture capitalists and the like not figured this out already? It’s been a decade, give or take a few years, since the internet started being monetized to hell and back, and if we all know they’re not really making a profit (bc no one clicks on ads, obviously) then why are the structures still in place?im looking at all this and I feel like a dunce bc I just don’t get how ppl can keep ofunelling money into something that we all know doesn’t work lol ! :0
there's a couple reasons for this, but the tldr of it is that if you're wile e. coyote and you're running in the air over the edge of a cliff, it's in your material interests not to look down
let's say you're a venture capitalist and you've put $10 million into hypnospace, the hot new social media site. when you invest into a company, you invest at a certain price--the company has an idea of how much it's worth, and that determines what price they'll sell their shares at. let's say you buy at $10 a share, so you have a million shares in hypnospace. that $10-a-share-valuation was based on hypnospace telling you (in, say, 2012, when this was still believable and even seemed self-evident) that becuse they were seeing huge growth in daily active users, they'd eventually become insanely profitable.
now usually even you, a venture capitalist, a lifeform mostly resembling a parasitic flatworm, might be a little cautious about this investment. will they really become profitable? it seems risky. however because it's 2012, the US federal reserve has been giving out loans at their ZIRP (zero interest rate policy) for four years in a response to the 2008 financial crisis. what that means is that it's incredibly cheap for banks to borrow money, which in turn means it's incredibly cheap for you, a venture capitalist, to borrow that money from banks. when money is cheap, risky investments make a lot of sense--when you can get an extremely low-interest-rate loan, throwing that money down the toilet is unfortunate but no longer catastrophic. so you put your $10 million into hypnospace because the risk is artificially lowered by the ZIRP, making it well worth the reward.
now it's five years later and it's 2017 and it's becoming increasingly clear that hypnospace.horse is probably not going to became the new facebook and that perhaps there will in fact only be one facebook. bummer. but you've still got a million shares in it. this means that you're directly invested--not in the company becoming profitable, but in the valuation of that company going up. if people can be convinced to buy hypnospace shares at $12-a-share, you can make off with a cool $2 million even though the website never did anything useful or made any money. on the other hand, if people start thinking 'hey, this website has never made any money and it's obviously never going to, why would we buy shares in it'--shares plummet to $1 a share, and you're out $9 million! worst case scenario!
so even if you, the venture capitalist, realize that the website's a boondoggle, it's in your best interest to convince everyone around you that no, it really will become profitable, and its shares (that you hold some of!) are really valuable and you should want to buy them. and this doesn't just mean lying to other venture capitalists (although they love doing this)--capitalists pay close attention to sales of stocks. if you realize that hypnospace is never going to make money and decide to cut your losses and abruptly offload all million shares, other capitalists will interpret that for what it means--that you've totally lost confidence in seeing return on your investment--and many of them will panic and also start selling their shares, while capitalists with no hypnospace shares will think 'boy, this hypnospace thing seems like a real wash, i don't want to buy shares in that'.
so what do you do? you keep putting money in. if the company's increasing in valuation the more it grows, then even if you're crystal-clear aware that growth has no path to profitability, you still gain wealth for every month that the business stays afloat by burning money, because the valuation goes up and your shares are worth more. the ideal outcome for a venture capitalist investing into a tech company is to make a big investment, let the company bleed money while it grows for several years, then sell--not all at once, not abruptly, and not while the price is in stagnation or decline. it's one big game of hot potato for when the gig is finally up. not every venture capitalist has to be a totally credulous dipshit--just the last one in the line.
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tkaulitzlvr · 8 months
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Plz write about reader accidentally kissing someone else. Thanks in advance!
MISTAKE - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: a fan puts you in an awkward situation, tom getting the complete wrong idea, putting a divide between the two of you as you try to explain yourself, tom thinking of a different way to resolve this.
content: angst, angry sex, a little fluff at the end.
a/n: thank you for the request i hope u like it, i had sm fun writing this!! sorry it’s so long i got carried away…😭😭
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“oh my god i love you so much!” another fan says, tears streaming down her face as i sign her autograph, sending her a warm smile and moving onto the next.
tom isn’t too far behind me, signing other fans autographs and taking pictures with the rest of the band, this being the standard before and after every event. we had just wrapped up the 2008 EMAs, getting ready to leave, not before acknowledging his fans. with me being his long term girlfriend, aside from the occasional fan who would hate on me purely out of spite, i had become quite popular amongst his fanbase, signing autographs and interacting with them turning into a regular occurrence, but i didn’t mind it. these people had given tom the success he has, and i couldnt thank them enough, taking pictures and speaking with them, even if it is only for a few seconds, being the least i could do.
and to say that tom likes how much his fans adore me is an understatement. he treats me like his prized possession, his face beaming with pride as i speak with every fan i can, occasionally turning around to see him smiling back at me, so much love in his eyes that my heart could melt at the sight. he wore two headbands, one black and the other grey, his long dreads tied up in a ponytail, losing his usual flat cap and opting for a dark brown t-shirt that read ‘tokio hotel’.
i however, wore a long black dress, the bottom split at one side, the material hugging my figure perfectly, paired with some black heels, my hair straightened and makeup caked on, excessive amounts of jewellery around my body. i was surprised tom hadn’t made any moves on me the whole night, the public eye never really stopping the PDA from him. he didn’t shy away from telling me how beautiful i looked before we arrived, promising that he would show me once we were back at the hotel room, and i knew exactly what that would entail, the details better left unsaid.
my body begins to feel slightly tired after being at the award show for hours, the amount of fans that i’m yet to speak to not going down. i approach the next one, already a little weirded out. he looks around my age, maybe a few years older, a strange smirk on his face as his eyes rake down my body, undressing me with his gaze. i already feel uncomfortable, unsure of what to say as his eyes stop at my cleavage, not even uttering a word.
“hey! how are you, is there anything that you want me to sign?” i eventually say, the guy quickly looking upwards, as if he hadn’t been checking out every inch of my body seconds before.
“can i get a picture?” he says simply, his tongue poking out as he slowly licks his lips, not breaking eye contact with me.
my insides are churning, the thought of him checking me out making me want to throw up, internally praying that tom could be beside me right now. i quickly look over, seeing him too immersed in signing fans autographs to glance in my direction, the high pitched sound of girls screaming his name leaving him a little distracted from me, understandably. i plaster a forced smile on my face, trying to be done with this guy as soon as possible so i can move away from him, already feeling super on edge.
“of course!” i say, moving closer to the barricade as he pulls out his phone.
he moves his hand, reaching it outwards as i assume he is going to put a friendly arm around my shoulder, not minding this as it’s something a lot of fans do. instead, his hand stretches towards my face, turning it so that it is facing him instead of the camera like it previously was, placing a kiss onto my lips before i can even register what is happening.
the second that i process another person’s lips are touching mine, a person that isn’t tom, i frantically pull away, my breathing fast and heavy as i quickly turn to face tom. he is already looking at me, having just witnessed the entire thing from a few metres away. he is pissed. his jaw clenched, eyes hooded, chest heaving up and down as he completely ignores the girls shoving paper and pens at him, begging for an autograph.
i ignore the guy, knowing that if i speak my mind to him in this moment, i’ll deal with a pretty big scandal. instead, i rush over to tom, tears clouding my vision, trying to push them back as i force a smile, walking over as he steps back from the fans, facing away from the crowd.
“we’re gonna talk about this once we get back. don’t think that you’re getting off the hook, what the actual fuck?” he whispers, his teeth gritted. “now you’re gonna act like everything is fine until this whole thing is over, yeah?”
“but tom i-” i begin, desperately trying to explain myself.
“i don’t wanna fucking hear it. you’ve done enough, don’t you think? now smile.” he mutters, quickly turning back around to the crowd, wrapping his arm around my waist and planting a kiss onto my cheek as if nothing has happened.
the fans go wild, screaming loudly, the paparazzi loving this, knowing that pictures of tom and i are something that the world goes literally crazy for. flashing lights blind my vision as i try to blink the tears away, doing so successfully, putting my emotions aside for the sake of tom’s career, desperate to get out of here so that i can explain myself, tom clearly getting the wrong idea.
“kiss her properly tom!” someone within the crowd of paparazzi shouts, tom flashing them all a smile, pecking my lips as the cameras go wild, taking advantage of the opportunity. i can tell that he is pissed from the way his lips touch mine, his hand around my waist, the other hanging loosely by his side, no love in the kiss. but he doesn’t let anyone else see that. to anybody else, it would look completely normal, like a couple with no problems, not as if tom had witnessed me kiss another guy with zero context. his hand grasps mine, interlocking our fingers, taking me over to an interviewer beckoning us over, this the part i am dreading most.
she smiles warmly at us, speaking into the microphone, tom still holding my hand, squeezing it slightly, this not to comfort me, but to remind me to act normal.
“so guys, how are you both? and, congratulations to you, tom, and the rest of tokio hotel for winning an award tonight!” she says, pointing the microphone to tom as he smiles before speaking into it.
“we’re doing great. it feels so crazy to win another award with the band, we couldn’t have done it without our fans, so thank you, all of you.” he says, smiling warmly at the camera as the interviewer takes the mic back.
“and, as tom’s girlfriend, how does it feel to be here with him tonight, and, i’m guessing there’s gonna be big celebrations later on!” she laughs, winking at me when saying the last part.
“yeah, it’s amazing. i feel so honoured to be here with him and the rest of the band tonight, i’m just so proud of how far he’s come, and i’m so thankful to be on this journey with him.” i nod, smiling and looking into his eyes as convincingly as i can, kissing him lightly on the cheek.
tom leans into the mic, the interviewer pointing it in his direction. “and to answer the second part of your question, i don’t think we’re gonna be doing much sleeping tonight.” he smirks, winking in my direction as i laugh lightly, smacking his arm and rolling my eyes playfully.
as angry at he is right now, he is good at not showing it as even i question if he is acting anymore, his affection so natural that it doesn’t seem forced.
the interview drags on for at least another ten minutes, asking questions about our relationship, to which we answer the best we can, appearing to convince the interviewer and crowd pretty well. she ends it by thanking us, wishing us a great night as we walk away, big smiles plastered on our faces as we head to take more pictures, paparazzi again demanding us to be as intimate as we can, tom and i obliging, followed by more interviews.
“tom can you please just listen to me-”
“i don’t want to hear it, just get in the car.” he says, opening the door for me and climbing in, sitting silently with his arms crossed as the car falls silent, the driver taking us to the hotel room.
the entire ride home is silent, tom completely ignoring me as he won’t touch or even look at me, his head resting on the window, jaw clenched and his entire expression angry. i try to hold his hand, moving my fingers and attempting to intertwine them with his, but he shrugs them off, refusing to say a word.
we stop outside the hotel, the driver opening the door for us as we both say our thanks, stepping out of the car. tom walks ahead, not waiting for me as i struggle to keep up, only catching up once he buzzes for the elevator, both of us stepping inside, tom standing on the other side, looking downwards at his feet and refusing to make eye contact with me.
“baby please just let me talk, i can explain.” i plead, my voice a little shaky, slightly scared of his ability to so naturally act like he is in love with me in front of the cameras, but once we are alone, he can turn from caring to cold in seconds.
“what, you can explain kissing another guy right in front of me? can you fucking hear yourself?” he scoffs, tutting as the elevator opens. his hands are in his pockets as he lifts his body up from where it was slouched against the wall of the elevator, walking ahead of me once again, using his key card and entering the hotel room, finding the rest of the band already there. they had left earlier than us, already finished with their interviews as the band had done their collective ones earlier on, tom and i only needing to stay to do our separate ones.
“hey guys.” tom says, saying nothing more as he walks into our shared bedroom.
bill furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and i send him a small smile, mouthing ‘i’ll explain later’, before following where tom had gone. the bedroom is dark, tom not in there, but the balcony doors are open. i can make out his figure through the darkness, smoke coming from his mouth as i look towards the lit cigarette in his hands, hesitantly joining him on the balcony which overlooks the city.
he takes a quick glance at me, looking forwards and ignoring me as he had since the incident had happened.
“you gonna keep ignoring me? or can i explain?” i ask, trying to stand a little closer to him, testing what my boundaries are.
“nothing for you to explain.” he mutters, bringing the cig to his lips, inhaling and watching the smoke exit his mouth.
the cold breeze of the night causes me to shiver a little, my strapless dress not helping me out as i rub my hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm myself up.
“i didn’t fucking kiss him. jesus christ do you think i’m some slut who can’t contain myself? i haven’t cheated on you throughout our whole relationship, tom, and i definitely wouldn’t do it in public like that.” i sigh, the tears already beginning to form in my eyes as i can see that he isn’t in any position to hear me out, his mind already set on what he thinks he has witnessed.
“what so i was fucking hallucinating when i saw him kiss you?” he scoffs sarcastically, putting his cig out and looking into my eyes for the first time, his full of rage, a lit fuse ready to blow. he shakes his head when i stay silent, walking back into the bedroom.
i don’t give up yet, quickly following him into the room.
“he asked for a picture. i wasn’t even looking at him, i was looking into his camera. he grabbed my face and kissed me. he forced me onto him, and i pulled away. so can you stop being so fucking stubborn, ‘cause i’m tired of this shit. i shouldn’t feel bad when you’re too childish to hear me out! so fucking grow a pair and-”
my heated rambling is quickly cut off my tom firmly pressing his lips against mine, walking me backwards until my back harshly collides with the wall, a gasp leaving my mouth as i do so.
“fucking shut up.” he mumbles against my lips, his hand reaching behind me as he quickly pulls the zipper of my dress down, pushing his tongue into my mouth and kissing me with so much hunger that it is hard to remember why we were even arguing in the first place.
but the harshness of his kiss tells me that he is still irritated, taking out his anger on me in the best way possible, his hands reaching for the top of my dress, pulling it down my frame without removing his lips from mine, letting it hit the floor, leaving me in only my black lace panties.
he moves his hands to underneath my thighs, lifting them up in one smooth motion, wrapping them tightly around his waist as he walks us to the bed, his tongue still exploring my mouth, only fuelling the need to feel him inside me, the burning in between my thighs getting harder and harder to ignore.
he lays me on the bed, wasting no time in climbing on top of me, my hands scrambling to removing his t-shirt, lifting the material up and over his head. he moves his knee in between my thighs as he unbuckles his belt, the hunger mixed with pure lust causing me to grind on him, brushing perfectly against my clit as i sigh out in pleasure. tom has his tongue pressed to the corner of his mouth, almost mocking my desperation.
“getting off on my knee, you’re that needy? baby you need to use your words. i’ll give you what you want, you just need to say the word.” he teases, pulling his pants down and throwing them somewhere on the floor, leaving him in just his boxers, our underwear now the only thing separating us.
he climbs back on top of me, moving his knee as i whine slightly, a little frustrated at the loss of contact. he buries his head in the crook of my neck, biting at the skin harshly, soothing the slight pain with his tongue after, sending a chill down my body, my breathing becoming erratic as he begins to grind down on me, knowing exactly how to tease me.
“you know what you want.” he whispers against the skin of my neck, before carrying on placing slow and wet kisses there, knowing he will leave marks afterwards. “just say it. say what you want.”
i feel him smile against me, enjoying the way i wither beneath him, completely at his mercy, so desperate to feel his dick inside me.
“i need you…inside me.” i breathe out, my fingers moving to the inside of his boxers, fiddling with the waistband as i just want them off, tired of his teasing.
“was that so hard?” he asks, kissing me roughly as he moves my hands away, tugging his boxers down and moving to my panties, pulling his lips away from me and using his teeth to pull them down a little, loving the way my breath hitches in my throat when he does this. he replaces his mouth with his hands, swiftly taking my panties off, leaving us both naked.
“don’t think i’m going easy on you. i’m still pissed about earlier.” he begins, positioning his tip at my entrance. “i just knew i’d be able to get you all worked up doing this.”
he stops, looking into my eyes as our faces are inches apart, before moving into me, stretching my walls as he gives me no time to adjust, bottoming out inside me and almost completely pulling out, snapping his hips once again.
“fuck- too much.” i whine, the pain overtaking the pleasure as i squeeze his bicep, my eyes watering as my teeth sink into my bottom lip.
“i thought you wanted this.” he taunts, slowly moving out of me again, before thrusting into me again, a restrained groan escaping his mouth. “can you not take it, hm?”
all i can do is moan in response, trying to caress his chest as he begins a fast rhythm, showing no remorse as he moves in and out of me at a rapid pace.
“mm, no touching.” he says, taking both my arms and placing them above my head, using one hand to hold them in place, whilst the other begins to toy with my clit, the pain quickly subsiding as i am lost in pure ecstasy.
his tip brushes over my g-spot, a loud moan emitting from my parted lips, my eyes screwing shut, unable to take the pleasure as it hits me faster than ever.
“oh my god, there…right there, please tom!” i cry out, biting my lip to try and contain my moans, remembering that the rest of the band are right down the hall, not wanting them to hear any of this.
“here?” he teases, angling himself so that he isn’t just brushing over the spot, his tip is directly hitting it over and over again, my release fast approaching.
“that guy…” he begins, pressing his hand on my lower stomach, the print of his dick moving in and out of me now visible. “he couldn’t fuck you like this. only i can, mhm? say it.”
i am so lost in pleasure that i don’t even register what he is saying, my eyes rolling to the back of my head, legs going numb as they instinctively wrap around his waist, bringing him closer into me, allowing him to drill into me even deeper with each thrust, hitting angles that i had never felt before. i don’t comprehend his words until i feel his thumb touch my bottom lip, dragging downwards until it releases with a pop.
“fucking say it.” he demands, grunting lowly and moving in and out of me even harder, my legs feeling a dull ache between them as the knot in my stomach only tightens, my release fast approaching.
“only- fuck! only you can do this.” i manage to breathe out, my words so incoherent that they can barely be made out, so lost in pleasure that i am beyond the point of caring.
“i’m close baby.” tom says, connecting his lips with mine once again, our mouths sloppily colliding as small moans are muffled within the kiss. i can’t even tell him that i am close too, but the way i clench around him gives him enough of an idea.
his dick twitches inside of me as he pulls away, his mouth hanging open whilst his head falls back, a choked moan escaping his mouth as i feel his cum coat my walls, this triggering my own release. my ability to speak is quickly lost, a high pitched moan leaving my mouth as i let my release take over, my vision clouding up as the pleasure becomes too much, tom clearly not looking to stop as he chases another release, my eyes squeezing shut as i quickly become overstimulated.
“too much…” i whine. “cant take it.”
“should’ve thought about that before you let me catch another guy kissing you. i’m not stopping till you fucking understand only i can do that.” he replies, flipping us over so that i am on top.
“ride.” he says, placing his hands on my hips as mine rest on his shoulders, his lips moving to my collarbone.
“i can’t.” i sigh, tears clouding my vision as i fall onto him, completely exhausted. my legs ache, my inner thighs sore from him not letting me adjust, my throat dry from the sounds he made leave my mouth.
he sighs, guilt taking over his expression as he begins to feel a little bad, his hands reaching to rub my back.
“you did so good schatz.” he says, pulling out of me as i whine from the loss of contact, my body hot, forehead glistening with sweat. “you okay? did i go too hard. sorry, i was just angry, if i took it too far you have to-”
i cut him off by gently pecking his lips, reassuring him. “it’s fine, tom, i’m okay. i’m really sorry about tonight.”
“it wasn’t your fault. sorry i was such an ass about it.” he apologises, tracing random shapes along my back. “i think it’s best i don’t leave your side in public from now on, yeah? i swear to god if i see that asshole again-”
“don’t worry about it, it’s okay now.” i laugh, taking his hand and playing with his fingers, my breathing slowing down. “i don’t think he’ll be coming to anymore events that we’re at, you should’ve seen how humiliated he was when i pulled away. fucking loser, i don’t understand what else he wanted me to do.”
he chuckles slightly, tightening his hold on me and planting a soft kiss on my forehead. “let’s get you cleaned up.”
he takes my hand, laughing at the way my legs shake as i struggle to walk, taking me towards the bathroom and running me a bath, showering me with kisses for the rest of the night.
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requests are open! keep sending them in!!
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florencewellch · 6 months
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This album is called "Fearless", and I guess I'd like to clarify why we chose that as the title. To me, "Fearless" is not the absence of fear. It's not being completely unafraid. To me, fearless is having fears. Fearless is having doubts. Lots of them. To me, fearless is living in spite of those things that scare you to death. Fearless is falling madly in love again, even though you've been hurt before. Fearless is walking into your freshman year of high school at fifteen. Fearless is getting back up and fighting for what you want over and over again...even though every time you've tried before, you've lost. It's fearless to have faith that someday things will change. Fearless is having the courage to say goodbye to someone who only hurts you, even if you can't breathe without them. I think it's fearless to fall for your best friend, even though he's in love with someone else. And when someone apologizes to you enough times for things they'll never stop doing, I think it's fearless to stop believing them. It's fearless to say "you're NOT sorry", and walk away. I think loving someone despite what people think is fearless. I think allowing yourself to cry on the bathroom floor is fearless. Letting go is fearless. Then, moving on and being alright...That's fearless, too. But no matter what love throws at you, you have to believe in it. You have to believe in love stories and prince charmings and happily every after. That's why I write these songs. Because I think love is fearless.
Fearless (November 11, 2008)
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itsmealaiah · 4 months
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From a whisper to a scream
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Summary: Bill gets clingy, toying with your jean shorts and hands, being clingy, and it gets more intense when you get home.
2008 Bill x Fem Reader
Tags/ warnings: eating out, unprotected intercourse, dom! Bill, and degrading.
German is italicized!
Your POV:
"Please welcome Tokio Hotel!" The interviewer shouted, looking at the crowd as we all stepped out. The crowd was cheering and screaming in pure joy.
We sat down on the couch, Bill taking a seat next to me. I smiled. "Can you all introduce yourselves to the fans once again, just for good measure?" The interviewer beamed, and the crowd cheered more.
"Bill Kaulitz, lead singer" "Tom Kaulitz, guitarist"  "Gustav Schäfer, drummer"  " Georg Listing, bassist" " And Y/n y/l/n, backup vocalist"  We all smiled, as the crowd shrieked. I saw Bill glancing at me briefly before he looked away.
I furrowed my eyebrows, shrugging it off. "So, how did you guys all meet?" The interviewer asked, looking at a card. We thought for a moment. "I think it was in school, right?" I looked at the band, who was nodding. "Yeah, in school." I smiled.
"Next question" He spoke, pulling out another card. "Will you continue doing songs in German, English, or both?" Bill perked up at this. "I write the songs, we rehearse them in German, and then do another copy of an English version." The crowd cheered.
As the interview went on, Bill clung to me more and more. At first, it was just brushing his hand over my leg, which made my face turn a light shade of pink, to holding my hand in his, thumb gently caressing the back. 
I didn't know what was wrong with him, he hadn't been this needy for my attention ever. We were best friends, but nothing more.
I was snapped out of my thoughts by Tom nudging my side. "Hey you, we have to leave"  I got up and followed him back to the taxi.
"Hey guys" I beamed at the band. I squeezed into the back with them, all of us mushed together. "I think we did great at the interview." I rubbed Bill's arm. "What was that for?" He questioned, making the rest look at me. I was flustered. "Oh n-no reason" I stuttered out.
We got back to the hotel, and I rushed to the elevators, grabbing one, hoping it would close before anyone could get in. It was almost shut when a hand covered in rings grabbed the sliding door. I sighed quietly.
"What are you doing in here all alone?" The person asked, I knew it was Bill. "Oh nothing, just needed a breather." I rolled on my heels back and forth. He drew closer to me, his hot breath tickling my ear. "Y'know, I really like you" He whispered huskily in his thick accent. I blushed. "You do?" He nodded. "Why don't you come to my room tonight pretty girl, I could show you a real good time." 
He winked before stepping away and pressing the button for his floor, leaving me shocked. My mouth was hung open. "Do I have that much of an effect on you, doll?" I was about to speak but the door opened, and he walked away.
"Jesus" I gasped. I had been holding my breath. I got out before the door could close, shouting. "Hey wait!" I ran down the hall, trying to catch up with Bill. "Yes?" He turned to face me, I was slightly out of breath.
"Where's your room?" He smirked. "Right this way, only like a few more doors." I followed him like a lost animal, trailing a couple of feet behind him. 
He led me to his room and opened the door quickly. "I have to use the bathroom, make yourself at home" I made my way to the bed, lying fully on it.
I heard a click and saw Bill, he was inching closer to me with each second. "Mind taking those pretty clothes off baby?" He groaned seductively. I began to slide my shirt off, leaving me in my bra. Bill's eyes devoured me as he gazed upon my soft skin.
"Let me do it, you're too slow" He growled, throwing himself at me. I gasped, as he rid me of the fabric once covering me.
His head dipped between my legs, as he looked at me for approval. I nodded. His tongue gently lapped at my folds, and I moaned in frustration. 
"God" He whispers against my skin. "Taste so good love" He makes his way up my torso, kissing a line and grabbing my lips angrily. He undid his jeans, separating us for a brief moment. I moaned and reached for him. "Not now" He hissed, slapping my hands away.
He slid his jeans down his legs and shucked his boxers. "Watch me, I want to see your face," He said, pushing himself into me. I moaned loudly, beginning to squirm. "Stop it bitch, or you aren't allowed to come" 
He pinned me down, thrusting in and out at an inhuman rate. Our skin was slapping, and the headboard was crashing against the wall. "That's good oh my God, please keep doing that"
I moaned out, he was grinning from ear to ear. "You're quite easy to please" He marked my neck, thrusting lowly. "Why are you being so gentle with me? It's not fun" I whined, tugging at the ends of his hair. He looked down at me, lust in his eyes, before bucking his hips into mine.
His frantic pace had me sweating. "Bill, gonna c-come" I whimpered out, lips parted as I moaned again. "Me too," He said, groaning. I released on him, thighs shaking, as I screamed. He also released in me and pulled out.
I heard a knock at the door, assuming it was nothing. "You okay?" He asked. I flashed him a weak smile. The knocking got louder. 
"Bill, what the fuck are you doing in there? Answer the door!" It was Tom. "Shit" I muttered, running to the bathroom as Bill rushed to the door. I heard the door click and Tom walking inside. 
"It smells like ass in here" Tom snapped. "Sorry I was in the bathroom" Bill tried to cover himself. "Well I'll help you spray it with air freshener or something" Tom opened the door, and I jumped.
"Hi," I said awkwardly. Tom began to laugh hysterically. Bill and I froze in our places. "Get dressed you two" He heaved, another chuckle spilling out. "We have to leave soon"
A/n: y'all all I'm so sorry, I was so busy these past few days and barely had any time to write, it seems I can only write a story in 2 days now. I'm terribly sorry if it's bad. better ones to come xx alaiah ❤️ 🥹
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intersectionalpraxis · 5 months
Note
HAPPY 15TH ANNIVERSARY TO THE DAY A SHOE WAS THROWN AT BUSH! 🤪
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Happy 15th year!!
Muntadhar al-Zaidi is the Iraqi broadcast journalist who famously threw both his shoes at Bush in 2008. He said this:
“This is a farewell kiss from the Iraqi people, you dog,” al-Zaidi yelled as he tossed the shoe before being pinned to the floor by security personnel. “You killed the Iraqis!”
After he was released from Baghdad prison in 2009, he started a humanitarian foundation. Although I do not know what he is doing currently (aside from living in Lebanon for a decade and trying to run for President in Iraq back in 2018), I know that over the years when people have thanked him for throwing the shoe as a form of protest on social media, he has responded.
Much respect to him -and a huge FU to US imperialism and violence.
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ccbunnv · 2 months
Note
Hi I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do a fem!reader x 2008 Tom where the reader attended this big fan party thrown by Tokio Hotel and Tom kind of like brings her to their VIP area and fucks after they dance??
that's so cute!!
˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 tom x fem! reader smut
well, there you were, dressed in your low waist bootcut jeans and your tight t-shirt. you stood there, close to the wall, lights invading your vision and songs filling your ears.
your throat burned with the taste of the awfully sweet punch, and you were seriously craving some water. but you were too nervous to leave your current spot; woe is you.
you scan the area meticulously, hoping to find your friend but much to your chagrin, you see nothing but the sea of teenagers. the last you saw of her was when she got guided away by some guy.
leaning against the wall once more, you heave a sigh. you look back down at your drink and bring the red plastic cup to your lips, drinking the sweet punch once more.
you grimace slightly at the overwhelming taste of additives.
"hey, you okay?" you hear a voice call out in your direction and you recognise it instantly.
you turn to look at the person who called out and your heart could've went into cardiac arrest right there.
in his usual baggy attire, his dreads pulled up into a ponytail, his headband-cap combo on, it's none other than the fan favourite Tom Kaulitz. you hear a bunch of girls whisper as he approaches you.
he smiles and hands you an ice cold water bottle, "here."
"um, thanks." you say, taking the water bottle and cracking the cap open. you chug down the contents, to which earns you a little giggle from him.
"the punch is really sweet, right?" he asks, taking his spot right next to you, "I can't handle drinking it either."
"yeah." you reply, twisting the cap back onto the bottle.
"say, I've never really seen you around before," he says, "first time?"
"yep," you awkwardly laugh, "I don't really know what to do."
"your friend's having the time of her life," he says, nudging his head over to the side of the crowd where your friend was grinding onto the guy who invited her to dance.
a little chuckle escapes your lips.
"you dance?" he asks, reaching his hand out for you to take.
you ponder for a little bit before placing your water bottle on the nearby table and take his hand, "sure."
he pulls you into the dance floor, just in time as britney spears begins playing. you can feel his hand on your waist, his hips grinding against yours, and you can smell the cigarette smoke on his breath.
and for some odd reason, that's hella hot.
𓆩♱𓆪
his jacket covers your body as the wind blows in your direction, as if welcoming you back outside. you watch as he pulls out his box of Marlboro reds and lights up one of the cigarettes.
he notices your eyes lingering on his figure and he smiles, offering you the stick, "you smoke?"
"I..." you were about to decline when you decided that one puff couldn't hurt. you nod and reach in to take it.
he takes a drag before handing it to you. you look at it tentatively, before placing it in between your lips and taking a long drag.
the smoke stings the back of your throat and you pull out the cigarette, coughing puffs of grey.
you hear him laugh and you groan, "not funny."
"don't swallow the smoke." he chuckles.
you pass the cigarette back to him and he inhales another round, before exhaling it. you watch silently as he does so. maybe it's the lighting or the fact that you just danced with him, but you understand why he's the fan favourite.
you can't help but find yourself entranced. he looks down at you and smirks, before saying softly, "what? in love already?"
"no," you respond softly, "you're just hot."
he laughs again, "I know I am."
you roll your eyes, before whispering, "I think I'm gonna do something I might regret."
"really?" he asks, throwing his cigarette onto the floor and stepping on it.
"yeah." you nod.
"like what?" he turns to face you.
"like this." you respond, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss him.
you pull away and quickly step aside to return inside, but he quickly grabs your hand and says, "you're not escaping this that easily."
𓆩♱𓆪
"oh--fuck, Tom!" you whine softly, pressing your face against the pillow as he pistons his hips into yours.
his hands grip your hips to keep you in place as he stretches you open, as well as render you unable to move away from him. he grins and says, "what? are you regretting it now?"
you weren't. but you weren't gonna tell him that now, obviously.
you let out a low rumble from the depths of your throat, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the tip of his girthy cock hits your g-spot repeatedly.
the way he's holding you so tightly, you were sure to wake up with a few bruises in the morning. your mind grows hazy with each pump, a choked moan being the only thing that leaves your throat.
"good girl." he praises, which makes you moan.
"you like that?" he snickers, "you like it when I call you good girl?"
"uh-huh..." you mumble as the wet slaps of his hips against your ass fill the silence.
he hits a spot of you that makes your back arch and your walls clench around you, which draws a hiss from his lips, "fuck...yeah, that's right...you're perfect for me, aren't you?"
you whimper, both your heart and your stomach full of him.
"made to be mine," he whispers, "moulded for my dick, hm?"
the songs from the ongoing afterparty seeps through the gap of the door and though muffled, it accompanies the erotic melody happening in the VIP room currently.
he slowly removes his hands from your hips and one rests at his side while the other brings your hair up into a ponytail. he tugs on it, pulling your head back, which shows him the perfect view of your fucked out face.
he laughs softly, "that's a good girl..."
you've never really had sex before, but your gut tells you that nobody else will ever be able to pleasure you this deeply ever again. the way he fills you up can't be put into words.
you can't think of anything else. not your phone buzzing on the nightstand, probably your friend calling you, not how you're probably about to get involved in some controversy later on...all you could think of was him.
he slowly readjusts his position and brings your hips higher, until your tummy is off the bed, and thrusts into you again. his pace is slow and sensual until it picks up into rough and merciless.
you moan quietly as you look up at the headboard, watching how it smacks against the wall and how the bed creaks ever so slightly with every push and pull.
your thighs begin to tremble, signalling you of an oncoming orgasm but he notices it as well, and stops abruptly. you whine, "why'd you stop? that's not fair..."
"just a change of position, sweetheart," he says quietly, flipping you over so your back is against the soft bed, "be good for me, yeah?"
you nod, simply waiting for the pleasure to return to you.
he smiles and lines his cock up against your entrance once more, before shoving it in. you groan at the feeling of him stretching you out once more.
without warning, he picks up the pace once more. he thrusts into you harshly, which elicits another sultry moan from you. his eyes fixate on the little bulge that's forming everytime thrusts inwards.
he grins as he pushes the bulge down using his index finger and middle finger, his thumb to stabilise his hand. you whine, kicking your feet slightly, which makes him even more amused.
each thrust fulfills you, and you find the knot in your lower abdomen tightening itself once more. your thighs begin trembling, and he says softly, "come on, cum with me..."
you abide by his command, and your breath hitches while your vision turns black. spots of white decorate the ebony, before you slowly regain your sight.
his movements become more erratic, fast and ruthless. you pant softly while he continues his assault on your pussy, before finally pulling out and cumming on your stomach.
your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat, illuminated by the lousy LED lights that cover the top of the ceiling. he smiles down at you and brushes your hair away from your face.
his voice is gentle as he says, "there you go, that's a good girl...mhm, felt good, didn't it?"
you nod tiredly, feeling your body already drained.
but he grins and says, "well, we're not stopping there. we're gonna keep going until you remember every inch of me."
𓆩♱𓆪
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hai7ani · 7 months
Text
橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou
nsfw (smut) mdni
masterlist | playlist
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part i / what would you do for love?
You think the summer of 2008 is bittersweet.
You did a lot of things back then -- finishing your gap year after graduating last summer and working a part-time job at a Family Mart in central town. Applied for countless of universities in Tokyo while questioning if it was really what you wanted to do. Experienced your parents' divorce and watched as your father cut ties and left you and your mother alone to pick yourselves up piece by piece. Lost your virginity to a boy you liked a lot and got your fragile heart broken by him after.
Not everything from that summer was bad -- you just don't like thinking about it a lot. There were good times and new experiences; yet the memories of you and Rindou will forever over-shine them and it always gets so awful that you'd prefer not to think about it so often because it only does nothing but makes your heart ache whenever you're reminded of that day and the day after.
A random afternoon in July and the two of you are spending the day kissing each other stupid in his childhood home. Rindou tastes like peppermint and tobacco and you cannot get enough of his lips -- so you keep on kissing him until your lips are tired and sore and he decides to pause for a moment to look into your ocean eyes.
You both come from a small town located in Kanagawa Prefecture. The people living there are warm like summer and were never cold like the winter; families care for each other as their own and that's also how you've come to know these two boys.
You grew up with the two sons of Mr and Mrs Haitani -- just born a year after their youngest and you follow them everywhere they go; from watching them play basketball at the park to climbing rooftops together of random shop lots in town.
One particular activity you enjoy doing with them is having competitions on picking mandarins at the nearby orchard, and you will always hold those moments dear to your heart despite everything else -- because you were never good at picking mandarins but there will always be Rindou beside you sneakily throwing in a couple extras in your basket when the time's running out and Ran is loudly boasting about his basket full of the citrus. And you'll look into Rindou's and notice there isn't anything inside, because what was once in there were now in yours and he ends up having to clean Ran's room for a week as his punishment for not getting any. And the two of you will meet eyes when the older boy isn't looking -- he'll fist bump you, "I got'chu," with a bright, handsome grin and you'll always blush in return.
The boys left for Tokyo as soon as they turned 14 and 15 and they seldom come back home for visits. You don't see them a lot, just during the summer when they spend a few weeks over with dyed hairs and different piercings and when it happens you always get so happy because you get to leave their house after with a few gentle kisses snuck to you in the kitchen while your families are busy chatting on the dinner table.
This summer, you're 19 and Rindou will be turning 20 soon. Ran had just turned 21 in May and it makes you feel a bit sad when you think about it -- the three of you used to hang out every day while fooling around at the park and talking about the future and now all of a sudden they're in their 20s and you don't talk a lot.
The brothers are spending the holiday back home and when the news broke you immediately ran over to their house, your flip flops loud against the tar road and the boys hear you before they see you. You hug Rindou first, Ran next and the older boy says he got you something and you grin brightly at his words. Rindou tugged you behind when he made sure Ran is walking ahead and is not going to look back and he kissed your rosy cheek as a greeting. You giggled into his back and he simply pulled you along by hooking pinkies and he'd only let you go when his parents were in sight.
Then on, you stop by whenever your hands are free and you always bring something with you whenever you visit -- their mother has always loved a good gift and it never fails to have your heart warm and flutter when she pulls you close and kisses your cheek for your sweetness. You brought watermelons today -- Grandpa got a good deal from a family friend and said to take some along and give it to the Haitanis when you go.
Two empty cans of Asahi and neatly cut triangles of the fruit sits in a porcelain plate on Rindou's desk, all left untouched and soggy because neither of you thinks that watermelon is sweeter than each other's lips.
And they're chasing each other -- yours and his. Red, swollen, and a bit purple too from the teasing bites and harsh sucks you give to each other, but you don't seem to care and he pulls you close to his face again to sigh dreamily into your mouth when you sit on him just right.
If his mother were to come up here and ask for the plate back, you're sure she'd scream and yell and hit the both of you when she finally finds out what the hell is actually going on with her youngest and the girl living down the street who have been hiding in his bedroom with the door locked all day. You figure it'd be considered filthy -- you're sitting on top of Rindou who so obviously has a very difficult boner that's needs to be taken care of and you're grinding your hips on it slowly.
He moans when you press down harder and his hands fly down to your waist and he grips your meat tight. He holds and keeps you there and he rests his head on your shoulder.
You think it's a bit complicated between you and him. It's not like you're dating. You're nothing like a boyfriend and girlfriend relationship -- you've never had that talk before. You've never confessed your feelings either. And yet he treats you so differently than he does to the other girl living down the street -- Himeko, who have always treated him nicer than usual. She's nice to Ran, she's nice to you, but she is so much nicer to Rindou and it makes you see red sometimes whenever you spot them both standing in an alleyway and she passes him a bento box she prepared that morning or some handmade keychains she learnt at a workshop in school.
But Rindou will reject them every single time and you'll always get giddy when he walks over to you and ruffles your hair. "Let's go." And he pushes you forward with a hand pinching your nape.
Rindou sends you a gift every spring without miss and he writes you letters sometimes because you've told him before that you don't use the Internet often. There will always be a few snacks and keychains attached in the parcel; sometimes it's box and sometimes it's a big brown envelope. It depends on what he sends but big or small, you don't mind. You don't care. Because they're from him -- the letters are handwritten, gifts are handpicked and his hard-earned money were spent. It is all that matters.
You hide and kiss each other behind doors or when you think people aren't looking. You were 15 when you gave him your first kiss in your bedroom after you both had a little bit too much of his father's stolen beer to drink but he tells you he doesn't regret it the next day. You shook your head with a smile and said that it was never a mistake. You're not too sure if the kiss was his first too, but you remember that he was blushy when he inched closer to your lips and stamped a firm kiss on it. Rindou was 16 when he kissed you for the first time and you always hold it dear to your heart.
Since then, Rindou kisses you whenever he can and you always return it while pressing a thumb into his bicep as affection -- he's told you once he doesn't like it when people touch him there because he is training but he never pushes you away when you do it. Instead, he smirks and wraps a hand behind your neck.
Rindou never does those things to Himeko; he only does them to you.
And it makes you feel so special even though you've never established anything -- you're not exclusive. But he always holds your hand when he walks you home after waiting for you to finish summer school and he carries your bag on one shoulder while your swing your hands back and forth.
You're straddling his lap and Rindou lips part to say something but you're feeling a bit cheeky. You feel like teasing him because he's got a stupid smirk on his face. So you jerk your hip forward just a little and he moans. All the smugness on his handsome face disappears and a mouth-opened moan breaks through his lips so loud you had to clamp a hand over it to make sure his pretty noise doesn't travel any further -- you definitely don't want anybody to be catching the two of you like this right now.
He rests his head on the headboard and half-lidded eyes peer at you. He sticks his tongue out to lick your palm and you wipe it on his shirt with a scowl and he laughs. You're busy getting his saliva off your hand and he takes the chance to admire you -- his pretty girl who he thinks is so sexy right now with a strap of her tank top falling off her shoulder and the hem of it run up beneath her breasts, bun loose and stray hairs framing her pretty face.
And despite the rough and brave demeanour he presents to all the people who aren't you, Rindou is nothing but putty in your arms when he slides sneaky hands under your tank top and squeezes your mounds. You're shy when he fondles them like stress balls and you gasp when he pushes them up a little and squeeze even harder.
Rindou feels as though he's falling in love with you all over again.
But he doesn't tell you that.
Instead, he dips both thumbs into the waistband of your shorts and he pushes it down. He's blushing when the red of your lace is exposed and you're bold when you reach for the condom on his nightstand and put it to his mouth. He takes it as a cue to bite down on the packaging and rips it open. It's torn and you see the condom inside, but you don't take it out -- not yet.
A hand moves down to his exposed dick and your touch is electric when your pointer grazes along the vein running up to his angry tip and it turns dangerous when you wrap your hand around and give it a few pumps and strokes. He moans at the stimulation and pre-cum leaks from the slit and rolls down his shaft.
You think his dick looks so pretty.
You finally let go when you're satisfied at teasing him to take the rubber out with shaky hands and he watches with cloudy eyes as you roll it down his thick length. You drooled a little when you first saw it -- it's big and long and thick and you weren't sure if it was gonna fit. But he kisses your concern away and tells you to trust him -- and you trust him the most -- so you do. And you believe him when he tells you it wouldn't hurt so bad if you relax and let him do all the work.
And it didn't. It really didn't hurt at all when he pushes it in -- just a bit breath-knocking when he bottoms out and you whine into his ear that it feels good when he moves his hips like that. Rindou continues fucking you that way until you feel something funny bubble up in your abdomen -- you've touched yourself before and you're sure every other girl of your age has, but you've never felt anything like this while doing that and it makes you panic a little when it gets stronger and you doubt you can take it anymore.
"R-Rin, feels weird." Your mouth is ajar with soft gasps escaping and you tilt your head back on the soft pillow. He slows down a little to observe your body and control his strength to make sure you're not in pain, that he's not hurting you, but when he sees the pretty look on your face he smiles a little and continues. You roll your eyes back and grip his shoulder tight, nails digging into his skin and he hisses at the sting.
"Got'chu, pretty."
And you let everything go at it. Your thighs feels sticky and wet and you're so tired but you don't care because it felt so good -- he felt so good.
Rindou takes you in his bed again and again that afternoon; bending your bodies in different positions and kissing your lips so sweetly until there's not a single coherent thought going through your brain despite it being your first time because you think it was so magical. He made you feel so good and you know you want to do it with him again. So you don't stop until you're all spent and he loses it -- and by that he means moaning uncontrollably until his mother gets up to knock on the door and ask what is happening inside.
(She doesn't find out.)
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱
You sit with him side by side on a bench at the park later that evening after getting cleaned and sneaking out through his window. You're holding a plastic bowl of kakigori in your hands and he's sipping on another can of Asahi despite you telling him to knock it off -- alcohol is bad and he'll become addicted (you say that as if you don't drink as well) but he simply wraps an arm around your frame and forces your head to rest on his shoulder. "I'll be fine." He smirks and you smack his thigh as a warning.
A bunch of young children are running around the playground, chasing each other and giggling happily while you kick your feet in the air and feed yourself another spoon of the sweetened shaved ice. Rindou crushes the now empty can and aims it to the nearby bin -- it circles around the mouth and slowly, it lands to the bottom with a clang and he claps with a cheer.
You knee his butt with a laugh and he bends to pick a wild flower from the bush. "Did Waseda reply?" He asks in a soft voice while dusting dirt off the petals and shuffle closer to you. You lick the spoon clean and blink dumbly when a hand reaches up to tuck your hair away and slot the flower on your ear. He adjusts it with a smile and he thinks you look real pretty like this. "No. Not yet." You reply, a bit stunned from his actions and you grin when he ruffles your hair. "Todai replied, though. But I wanna make sure I have all my options laid out first." And he listens as you continue to ramble about the other letters of acceptance you've received so far.
"I hope I don't make the wrong choice. Can't imagine losing myself studying something I don't like or at a place I don't find peace in."
"You won't."
He lifts your chin with two fingers.
"Look up."
Instead of the bright orange sun and pretty sunset in the sky, all you see is a camera pointed at your face and the next thing you hear is a loud click.
"Hey!" You smack his elbow with an angry red blush and he cackles while shoving the camera back into his pocket. "What? You're pretty. Wanna look at you forever."
"'M not." You fix your hair out of embarrassment from his praise while making sure the flower is in place -- he gave it to you and you don't wanna lose it. It's a pretty one too. "You are. You're the prettiest girl in the world." Rindou says it loudly and you pout when a lady walks past while looking at the two of you with judgemental eyes. But he ignores her and he makes you ignore her too when he leans down to press a kiss on your forehead, hands snaking around your neck and your eyelids flutter at his gentleness. You wrap yourself around him when you stand up, the plastic in your hands tossed at the ground to engulf him in a bear hug. He blushes when he feels your boobs press against his chest but you press your lips on his neck, feeling his quick pulse against them and he thinks he feels a bit more normal now.
"I never wanna lose you." He murmurs it to your ear and your heart tightens a little at it. But you hear some kind of hidden message in his words and you rub his back.
". . . My money is tight, so Tokyo isn't confirmed. Waseda and the others are just options. I also applied to the community college just in case. And you leave tomorrow. If things don't go as planned and I don't go to Tokyo, I'll have to wait another year to see you." Your lips wobble a little when you say it. Waiting for Rindou to come back home every summer was never easy and you can only count on the letters and merch he sends for you to feel closer to his heart.
". . . I'm staying here another week. Ran is going back alone tomorrow." You loosen your grip on him and look up into his eyes to search for any lies and uncertainty in them -- but all you see is sincerity and warmth and love. There's a certain look on his face that you can't decipher, though. You don't know what it means and what he really wants to say but you choose to brush it off when you're reminded that he called you a pretty girl and cup his cheeks with a grin.
"Really?" "Yeah." "Stay the night then. Ma won't know if we're quiet." "'Kay."
Ran stands behind the two of you under a tree and watches with betrayed eyes as you kiss and hug each other under the 6pm sun. He stares down at the taiyaki in his hand and angrily dumps it away in a bin. Ran knew you liked taiyaki. But Ran never knew that you liked Rindou more. And he walks away with that newfound knowledge as a long and sharp knife to his chest.
"Idiot Rin." Ran scoffs and shoves his hands into his pockets. "So much for saying you don't like her. Where does that fuckin' leave me?" He tuts and doesn't look at where he's going because he bumps into Himeko on the way back. He looks at her and notice that she's crying, face red with tears running down her cheeks and she brings an angry fist up to hit Ran on the shoulder. "Didn't you like her? Why is she with Rindou?" She yells and pokes a finger into his chest and Ran doesn't push her away. He doesn't call her names when she starts getting violent by kicking his leg. Instead, he lets Himeko release all her anger on him and he can only bite his lip and look up at the orange sky. ". . . Beats me, 'Hime."
꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱
You wake up at 2 in the afternoon the next day, head throbbing from a migraine and you pat on the area beside. It suddenly comes to you that Rindou isn't beside you in your bed. Though it makes sense, because it is halfway through the day and Rindou has always been a morning person.
But when you look around your room you realise that his stuff is all gone -- the Nirvana t-shirt that was hanging on the wall last night is not there. His metal glasses isn't on your nightstand. You don't smell his cologne in the air. There are no traces of him in your bedroom and you grow confused.
So you trot down the stairs with sore legs and cover your neck with your hands to ask your mother if she's seen him or Ran around. But she simply shakes her head and says that Ran took the first train back to Tokyo alone early in the morning. "Ran dropped by to say farewell. And he also left you something, it's on the table." She nods to the coffee table and you see a box on it. It's a bit big but you nod and look back at her.
"I didn't see Rindou, though. I asked Ran about him earlier and he said that Rindou will be gone for quite some time after this visit. I don't know what he meant by that but the boy looked sad when he said it. Maybe Rindou's already went back to Tokyo, I don't know. Or maybe he won't be coming back here anymore. Beats me. But I wish him the best, though. He's always been a bright kid with a bright future."
You run back to your room before your mother can finish her words and you call Rindou's number. You press the phone to your ear with shaky hands and it goes straight to voicemail. You dial his number again and again and pull at your hair when he doesn't pick up. So you spit it to his voicemail to go fuck himself for leaving you. You tell him that you never want to believe him anymore for lying to you. You cry that you are a fool for loving him. You love him. You loved him. "Don't ever let me see you again, Rindou." And you throw your phone at the wall angrily.
26 July 2008. Rindou was gone.
You went from seeing him every day to waiting for him to come home every summer and to not seeing him ever again.
And you laugh to yourself whenever your intoxicated mind travels back to the moment of you and Rindou in the park 7 years ago now that you're 26 and a working adult living alone in Tokyo. You don't bump into any of the brothers in the city. You lose contact with both and also Himeko.
Summer of 2008 is bittersweet.
And you weren't the only one who felt that way.
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denaliwrites · 5 months
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Dreams See Us Through
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Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader
Part 1: Don't Blink Part 2: Don't Turn Your Back Part 3: Don't Look Away
Catch and Release Prompt: "Solo"
Summary: Without the Doctor by your side, it's up to you to save yourself.
Soundtrack: If We Hold On Together by Diana Ross
Requests: Open!
Tag List: @nyxiethesimp, @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce -- If I could tag literally everyone who asked for a part 4, I would.
Warnings: Canon-Typical Peril.
"Doctor," the tinny voice of Jack Harkness piped up from the TARDIS intercom, sounding winded, "I found something I think you're gonna want to see."
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
When you opened your eyes, the Doctor was gone. In his place, a seemingly infinite field of flowers sprawled before you, with the sun shining brightly overhead. At first, you thought maybe you'd died and gone to Heaven, but as you looked around you saw that, to your right, nestled among some rolling hills, sat a pretty average-looking castle. You would've thought that, were this Heaven, the castle would've been grand and made of gold or something.
And, as you made your way through the meadow, you realized you recognized the flowers you brushed past.
So the angel hadn't killed you. And not only had it instead displaced you in time, it had also displaced you in space.
You were back on Earth.
Your next step was to find out when and where you were. Based on the castle overhead, your guess for location was a very broad "somewhere in Europe." That didn't help you much -- you needed more exact details.
You needed coordinates and a date.
You paused to look around, realizing that you never bothered to look behind you. Unfortunately, it didn't help much -- the castle was still your best bet for civilization. And from this distance, you couldn't tell what state it was in. If it was brand new or hundreds of years old.
Only time -- and a very long trek -- would tell.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
"Doctor," Jack greeted as the Time Lord swept into the room. His arms were held open as if for a hug.
The Doctor ignored the gesture and opted to instead stare at Jack from a distance, arms crossed over his chest. "Why am I here, Jack?" he asked, already tired of the man's antics.
"To look at this," Jack answered with an easy grin as he whipped out something from his coat pocket.
The Doctor stared at it in confusion.
"You called me all the way here for an Agatha Christie novel?"
"Really, Doctor. You think I'd resort to making up excuses to get you to come see me? Look at the cover," Jack told him, throwing the book over.
The Doctor caught it easily and did as Jack had told him. Up close, he could see the details and read the finer print. And a realization struck him.
"What's a hundred-year-old Vipiteran edition of the Mysterious Affair at Styles doing in a dingy apartment in 2008 London?" Jack asked aloud the question that had been forming in the Doctor's mind.
He didn't have an answer, so he shrugged and began flipping through the pages.
He was near the end when he stopped short, staring at something wedged between the pages. The Doctor pulled it out, staring dumbfoundedly at the old photograph he held between his fingers.
"Doctor, look at the back."
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
The biggest problem was avoiding the creation of a paradox -- difficult, but not impossible.
Luckily, you'd found a town on the other side of the castle, and with it your date and location. May 16, 1922 in Tureborg, Sweden. That definitely made things easier, though there was still the challenge of getting the Doctor's attention without creating a paradox. Or... at least, not a world-ending one. Hopefully.
You unfortunately had very little on you -- really, only the book you'd bought on Vipitera that you'd kept on you in case you found time to read (so much for that), and a credits chip that was virtually useless now.
You also couldn't speak Swedish. That was a bit of a problem.
You were there only a few days when your problems seemed to resolve themselves. An English artist had stumbled upon the town on his way through the country and had stopped to take in the sights and paint a pretty picture.
More importantly, though, he had a camera with him, and that was enough to spark an idea in your mind.
Befriending the artist was easy -- he was desperate for the companionship of someone who could understand him and you were desperate to get back to the Doctor.
You used each other, as God intended.
Fast friends that you were, it wasn't long before the artist offered to take your picture, and it was an offer you couldn't refuse. In fact, it was an offer you'd been banking on.
And that was how you got a Vipiteran copy of the Mysterious Affair at Styles, with a picture of you tucked into the back and a date a few days into the future and current coordinates scrawled on the back, to London.
Now all you could do was wait, and hope.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
The Doctor decided, as he set the TARDIS on course for the day and location you'd written on the back of that photograph, that the moment he saw you, he was going to tell you he loved you.
He was lucky, ultimately, that you'd found a way to leave breadcrumbs that were too small to upset the delicate balance of reality -- yet noticeable enough for him to pick up the trail.
He was lucky that you were smart, and bold, and courageous, and determined as hell. He was lucky that you wouldn't take death lying down. That you'd find some way to make it back to him.
He was lucky, he realized as he threw the switch that'd send him back to you, that you loved him enough to fight to get back to him.
--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---
Right on time, the sound of the TARDIS materializing filled the air. You moved to stand, waiting with bated breath and vibrating nerves as the blue box faded into view, and only a moment later the Doctor came bounding out, eyes scanning the scene for you.
He barely had a second to process the you-shaped missile heading his way before you were on him, arms thrown around his neck and holding on so tightly that he had to remind you that he needed to breathe.
"Shut up," you murmured into his neck, even as your arms loosened, "and fucking hug me back."
He obeyed without hesitation, his lips pressing to the top of your head as he pulled you tighter against him.
"I thought I lost you," he said into your hair. "I love you -- I promise I will never let anything happen to you again."
You believed him.
This experience had been enough to scare you both into being more careful. And even so, it wasn't over.
You pulled away from the Doctor, staring up at him with a determined gaze.
"Take me home. There's a Weeping Angel I need to take care of."
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drdemonprince · 4 days
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I've noticed a pattern in anticapitalist books I read (specifically I'm talking abt Mark Fisher here, in Capitalist Realism). They do this great anticapitalist analysis etc and then go on to critique their students? and sometimes it's a bit ableist? it's like all the critical thought goes out of the window and they cannot understand the situation because for once suddenly they are in the authoritative position. It always gives me this "I don't understand these kids, back in my day-" vibe, and I see this with lecturers at university too. like Mark Fisher maybe we can think outside the box about your student who "needs" headphones to focus in class "even though no music is playing". and maybe it's not to do with the "Matrix"(????) I'm well aware this was written in 2008 but it's weird that I see this pattern continue today. Not to mention Mark Fisher took part in some ableist studies, and was a guy with questionable intentions on occasion.
it's like you Just said that reducing labour is good why are you calling your students lazy, that's so unprofessional and privileged. I wonder of coincidence that he is anti-meds when his right wing, pro-eugenics, accelerationist friend was addicted to amphetamines.
Or even just the amount of people who have written books about laziness and anticapitalism (excluding you) and just saying the most contradictory shit ever?? or not following their own ideology???
Anyway, I wonder if, when writing Laziness Does Not Exist, you came across any of this and were equally as baffled.
Materialism is just *so* true that high-status academics don't have a vested class interest in seeing their student struggles as legitimate or in recognizing the struggles of disabled people in general. For many edgy academic leftists having the correct opinions is just a way to flex one's intellectual status, not a lived experience they give a shit about. I'm not shitting Fisher in particular in saying this, it's more that it's a really widespread problem in the culture of these kinds of (very white, very academic, very cishet) leftists communities. You see the same kind of thing among some of the Chapo stan types, too, you don't have to be specifically an academic to do it -- lots of people throwing around the r-slur and flexing on how much they have read and doing fuck all for the oppressed people around them. I tend to find it especially common among people who inherited leftism from their (often academic) parents? Whereas leftist communities populated by Black & brown anarchists and working class people tend to fare a lot better in this particular respect.
Note that I'm not saying a person's identities are a guarantee of them being any more radical -- there's lots of liberals lurking in our midsts of all identities for instance -- more that someone's orientation toward power tells you a lot. and unfortunately there is an approach to leftism that puts a lot of stock in either institutional power via the academy, or in a kind of soft power of intellectual authoritativeness that tends to punish anyone who is supposedly less well read, less intelligent, lazy, needs disability accommodations, has trauma triggers, or what have you.
The simple answer is that power and privilege obscures other people's challenges from you, and the desire to preserve one's power (be it actually institutional academic authority or just the status of the person who supposedly knows the most in the room) leads to a lot of oppressive behavior. a lot of these guys that you're talking about believe in communism sincerely but they don't have humility, they believe themselves to be superior to most everyone else. and they tend to be white guys from wealthy families who either do not have any disabilities of their own, or they have the undiagnosed intj mastermind rational flavor of autism that makes you feel incredibly alienated from others but interpret that alienation as a sign of your intellectual superiority. (i had this type but i got better. a little)
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