#what am i doing

First date, I’m fucking nervous

Date: “Are you nervous?”

Me to myself: you gotta act self confident!

Me (self confident): “No, I’m Sara.”

welllll

totally having a quarter life crisis

Chapter One

Warning: oral (m receiving), unprotected sex

It’s not serious.

Two adults can sleep together and be fine. You’ve done it before. It’s kind of nice, actually – you get the milk and don’t have to put up with the emotionally unavailable cow. And even though you’ve only known him for a few weeks, you know that’s what Javier is: emotionally available. Physically available? Different story. He lets you know as much when, after a few more rounds, you start to get dressed.

“So, should I leave the money on the dresser?” you ask as you come back into the room, your skirt crumpled in your hand. He smiles around his third cigarette as you shimmy the skirt back up. You don’t really know why you’re bothering, to be honest- your apartment is five feet away and it’s 3 AM on a Wednesday. Anyone who would see you rush to the door in your underwear probably has a lot more going on than to be distracted by a half nude school teacher doing the world’s shortest slut strut.

“It’s about 100,” he jokes back. You twist your face as you bend down to snatch your shirt from the floor and pull it over your shoulders.

“Pricey, but fair.” Somewhat dressed, you stalk over to his side of the bed and pluck the cigarette from his lips, taking a long drag yourself. His hand comes to rest on your thigh as you exhale.

“This isn’t going to be weird, is it?” you ask, flicking your eyes back down to him. “It was good, but I hope I didn’t lose my smoking buddy.”

‘Buddy’? God. You hang out with kids too much.

He smiles and reaches up to take back the cigarette you hold out. “Don’t worry, hermosa. I don’t scare easy.”

“Friends then?”

His eyes flick up and down your body before falling back on your face. He takes a drag.

“Yeah, friends.”

The way he enunciates tells you exactly what being friends with Javier is going to entail. You smile and bend down, catching his mouth in a quick peck.

“See you later, friend.” You stand up and give him a quick smile before picking up your purse from where you left it by the door and saunter out to the hall.

You don’t see him until the late afternoon Sunday when you take a break from grading to go stand on y’all’s usual spot to light up. He’s already there, smoking a cigarette that’s more ash than tobacco. He doesn’t even look up when you saunter up next to him, your hair up in a nest, and light your own.

“Lot on your mind?” you ask.

“What?” his voice is more on edge than you expected. You frown and gesture to his smoke.

“Think you forgot to ash,” you say.

He huffs and pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, pressing it into the concrete on the steps with more vigor than is required.

“Something up?”

“Mind your own fucking business, will you?” he snaps. You physically recoil from him as he starts down the stairs, his hands in his pockets. You’re too stunned to say anything, watching his back until he’s out of earshot. Annoyed, and suddenly not in the mood, you stub out your mostly intact cigarette and head inside.

To be honest, you’re still steaming about it when there’s a knock on your door that night. Already in your sleepwear, you push yourself up from where you’ve been lounging on the couch, reading some trashy paperback you picked up from the airport months ago. You leave against the door, avoiding looking through the peephole – some trick your dad taught you.

“Yeah?” you call out.

“It’s me.”

You frown. You do want to open the door, but there’s a question of self-respect. Do you let the man you’re casually having sex with, who then treated you like shit, into your house, where you know you could happily drop your pants for him once again if he looks at you with even the slightest bit of regret and/or horniness? You’re a strong woman but you’ve been walking funny all weekend, and if you’re honest it’s been pretty nice.

Your indecision speaks for you because from the other side you hear:

“I thought- I’d explain. About earlier.”

Yeah, there goes that resolve. You flick the deadbolt and swing the door open so you’re sat in the doorway, your hand still resting on the doorknob as you consider him with a look you hope is at least a little intimidating, although it’s hard to maintain upon seeing him. He looks rough.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you echo back.

“…What’s up?” he asks.

“Mostly just minding my own fucking business.”

He purses his lips and looks beyond you. “I deserve that.”

A beat passes. You try and keep up your icy, indifferent demeanor, daring him to explain himself, despite the teacher in you wanting to pull him into a hug or potentially ask him to express his emotion through a crayon drawing. Instead, you fight the urge and just raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Can I come in?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment before making a show of stepping aside and waving your hand into your apartment dramatically. He nods before walking in and stopping at the edge of your couch, letting you close the door behind him. He turns around at the sound, his hands on his hips pushing his jacket back just so. You both wait a minute, daring the other to speak, before giving in at the same time.

“Do you want something to drink – “ “I’m sorry about earlier-“

You both stop, waiting for the other to finish. He speaks first.

“Yeah, what you got?”

“Water, beer, or tequila.” You say, gliding past him to the small kitchen that overlooks the living room. You turn back, awaiting an answer. He’s still a thousand miles away.

“Beer.” He says finally. You nod and go to the fridge, retrieving two cans from the bottom shelf. Closing the door with your foot, you walk forward and hold the can out for him. He takes it but doesn’t open it. Annoyed, you make for your spot on the couch and plop down, pulling the tab back as you tuck your legs under you.

“You can sit down,” you say.

As if snapped out of a trance, he comes forward and sits on the opposite end of the couch. In a fluid motion, he opens the beer and throws it back for a long gulp. You study him from your perch, nursing the cold can in your hand. When he finishes his gulp, he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. The air around the two of you is tense, and the stomach makes your stomach flip.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says. You sit up, prompting him to look up at you. You bring the beer to your lips and take a sip, letting him know he’s got to offer a little more than that. He shakes his head.

“It’s- it’s a shit excuse. It’s just work.” He says.

“Yeah? Did the embassy cut the janitorial budget? No more Comet?”

He shakes his head. “You’re smarter than that,”

You fall silent and look at the space between you. You both know you never bought the excuse he gave you that night out, you just let him have it because it was easier to let him have his secrets, even if he noticed your eyes lingering on the gun strapped to his side when he first went up to the bar.

It was just supposed to be a drink.

Nothing serious.

“I am,” you say, setting your beer on the coffee table. You sit up and wait for him to respond. Instead, he takes another sip of his beer and makes to stand.

“I shouldn’t have bothered you,” he says, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll let you get back to your evening-“

“Javier,” you say. As you see him making for the door, you pounce up and grab his arm. He stills, and you drop it as if you just breached a barrier.

“You’re not bothering me,” you say. “You can tell me…or you don’t have to. It’s fine.”

He turns back and regards you with those eyes. Those fucking eyes. In this light, with the beers you’ve had, you feel suddenly so undressed in front of him. You bring an arm up to hold the opposite arm. It makes you feel less exposed

“Friends, remember?” you say, trying to recapture the jokey feeling from the previous night. Trying to make him feel comfortable. Like he can be light in here. With you.

He’s still for a second, but just as quickly as he popped up from the couch he’s got his hands on your face, pulling you into a desperate kiss. It’s messy and hard, but you let him take the lead, opening your mouth when he presses his tongue between your lips.  His hands drop to your waist and clutch at you, pushing your ugly, old University shirt up to touch your skin. Everything feels so urgent like if he let his hold on you relax even a little you’d float away from him. You feel the hardness in his jeans as he holds you against him, and you try to kiss him back with equal ferocity before realizing maybe he needs this kind of harsh control. So you relax, letting him take the lead and paw and gnaw at you. He leaves a trail of harsh, open mouth kisses along your neck that you know are going to leave marks, and you make a mental note to wear a turtle neck tomorrow to avoid the inevitable, unintentionally shaming little innocent voices asking “Señora, qué es esto?”.

Why do little kids notice everything?

Eagerly, as if he’s realized it’s the one thing that’s been keeping him from peace all day, he pulls your shirt over your head and throws it somewhere behind you. You’ve already taken your bra off, and his head dips down to take one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the point before giving it a quick, testing bite. You let out a little gasp as he switches to the other, and for a moment you forget his face at your door – sad, like a puppy dog that got kicked – and the dullness of his voice, so different from just a few days earlier. This feels different too- not so much fun, but release.

You’ll let him have it.

Your knees hit the edge of the couch and, a creative idea coming to your head, you drop from the kiss and sit yourself on the arm, focus now on undoing his belt. Above you he strips his jacket off, dropping it to the floor. You pull the belt out of the loops with all the show of a circus lion tamer cracking a whip and immediately being to pull at the buttons and zipper. Aggressively, -maybe too aggressively, calm down, the dick isn’t going anywhere, Eloise- you pull the jeans down past his ass and lurch forward, catching the head of his cock between your lips and sucking. Above you, he hisses, and you bring your hand to him, wrapping your fingers around the top as if it were an extension of your mouth. Gathering spit from the back of your throat, you take him deeper, trying to coat his length. His hands come up to grab at your hair, and you’re encouraged to go faster. Suddenly taking care of him is the only thing that matters anymore. Your other hand reaches forward and presses up against his sac, and the groan from above you is enough of an indication that he approves. You pull him out of your mouth and flick your eyes up forward, holding eye contact as you lick along the side of him. The way his mouth falls open is enough encouragement to return to your work in earnest, and for the next five minutes, you’re working your jaw like a fucking snake – pulling him into the back of your throat, tickling the underside of him all the while before returning to give attention to the head.

Without warning, you feel hands on your shoulders, and before you can protest – no, I want to do this, I want to do this for you – your back is against the leather of the couch cushions. You stare up at him as he finishes undressing, his eyes are so dark and focused as he drops the clothes to his feet. In a fluid motion, he pulls your night shorts and underwear down, depositing them with the rest of his clothes as he crawls over you. You scoot back until your head is pressed against the pillow just fifteen minutes earlier you had nearly fallen asleep drooling on. He hooks your leg up, opening you up for him as he slithers up to kiss you again.

“Are you-?”

“Yeah,” you say.

It’s enough. Seconds later he’s sheathing himself inside of you, and despite yourself, despite that stupid cool disposition you opened the door with, you let out a moan. Harsh fingers grab your chin and pull you back into a kiss, cutting you off as he continues to pound into you at an unforgiving pace. God, it feels good. It’s been years since you’ve had sex without a condom, and you’ve forgotten how nice and right it can feel to have someone inside you without a barrier. You hum into his mouth as he pulls away, dropping his lips to your neck as he continues, hard and unforgiving and perfectly painful in a way that you’ll carry in your walk for a week. Embarrassingly, you’re so wet, and the excess slick only makes the sounds coming from between the two of you more obscene. You clench yourself around him, earning yourself a moan as he sucks a bruise onto your collarbone – it’s okay, remember, turtleneck -and bucks into you, faster than before.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he continues. “Fuck!”

“Yeah?” he asks, his hand coming up to grab your breast. He pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb, and you let out another moan. Instead of answering, you dig your nails into the meat of his ass, urging him forward and deeper into you. It must have an effect because it’s his turn to moan into your ear, for you to hear the string of curse words that tumble from his stupid, perfect mouth. Encouraged, you press against his back, bringing him closer as you ride him from below. He sucks as his teeth and leans into it when you try again. You bend down and suck at the spot where his neck and shoulder meet, doing your best to leave a mark. Fair’s fair.

A few more minutes into this and you don’t think you can hold it off any longer. Opening your legs as much as possible, begging him to go as deep as he can, you finally let your body go. It’s deep and internal, a different sensation than when you’re circling yourself alone in your bed. It seems to pull him deeper and crush him in between the impossibly strong spasms. You let out a little cry, which is all it takes for him to finish. Seconds later you feel him pulse inside you, warmth spreading deep inside of you. He falls atop of you, both of you breathing heavily as you come down from the high. You both stay like that for a moment, two sweaty bodies flopped atop of the other, basking in the afterglow. After another minute he pulls back and kisses your chin before pulling himself from you – you’re proud, you only let out a small pathetic sound of disapproval – before he’s up, making for your kitchen. He returns a moment later, a wet rag in his hand. You try not to remember that you used that same cloth to clean up split orange juice that morning as you take it, pressing it between your legs as you sit up. You reach forward for your beer and take a sip as he settles beside you, two cigarettes once again caught between his lips. He lights yours first and passes it to you, which you take gratefully. For a moment, the two of you relax in the afterglow, naked and sweating on your shitty couch, sucking on cigarettes and waiting for your heart rate to go back down.

“I saw a kid get shot,” he says out of nowhere. It’s enough to jolt you upward. You turn to look at him, but he’s staring forward, lost in his own thoughts. He brings the cigarette to his lips again.

“…Fuck.” You say. Because what else can you say? Try and make him feel better, tell him you’ve lost students to the same bullshit he seems to be fighting? Yes, that’s always the solution- more dead kids.

“Couldn’t have been older than nineteen,” he says. “Other…kids were there. Saw it.”

You bite your lip and study his profile. You’re not sure what to say. Is there anything? If you were in his position, you’d probably hate someone trying to fill the silence. To make you feel better. Like people can’t just sit with something uncomfortable and true. It reminds you home, of the family you grew up in. You want to show him that isn’t you.

So, you swing your legs onto the ground and move to sit closer to him. He notices but says nothing. The two of you sit in silence, the smoke from your cigarettes intermingling in the smell of sex and sweat that permeates the air around you. He finishes his cigarette first, and you stub yours out – in what, solidarity? – before reaching to catch his hand in your own. He stills, but lets you interlace your fingers.

“You don’t have to-”

“Friends, Javier.” You say again. He turns to look at you and you hold his gaze, daring him to say something against you. A beat passes, and he drops his head. Reaching out, you pull his head to your lips and press a kiss against his temple. Leaning back, you pull him down with you, letting his head lay on your chest as you pull the ratty blanket over the two of you. You listen to his breaths go in and out, as you trace mindless patterns through his hair. After a few moments, his breathing evens out, and you realize he’s asleep. Letting out a sigh, you close your eyes and soon follow suit.

The next morning, when you wake up alone on your couch, you try not to let the ache in your chest settle. When you leave that morning, alone for the first time in weeks, you try not to overthink it. And later, then night, when you’re lying in bed and hear another woman’s groans permeate the wall between your bedrooms, you try not to finger the bruises on your neck and ignore the ache between your legs.

It’s not serious.

URGGGHHHHHHHH

I will probably update it every century but here’s the link

Unhealthy love - Amiinkles - Transformers: BotBots [Archive of Our Own]

Shoot me

also do i start being active on this blog again? im still super into hamilton, but now im fixating on jagged little pill and mean girls more and more lol

[kuroo and Bokuto doing orange Justice completely in sync]

Kuroo: hit or miss I guess they never miss huh

Bokuto: you got a boyfriend I bet he doesn’t kiss ya (mwah!)

Akaashi:

Akaashi:why 

Of my cage. And I’ve been doing just fine. Except for the fact asexuality isn’t real…So am I not real?

If you wanna ask or suggest me something! Don’t be shy nor disappointed with my answer. Trust me, I don’t bite that hard.

Here we include rare pairs or underrated ships such as:

Xianyu

Venyu

TohAya

And some more other shits. Like head canons for the readers because we simp for Genshin characters …

Requests:Currently open.

Allowed:NSFW, male reader, female reader, gn reader, head canons, drabbles, different species/race reader, rare pairs, lgbtq+.

Not allowed: Incest, underage ships like with the children ya know/pedophilia basically.

when I’m talking to people on tumblr or instagram and I tell them I never watched supernatural, and they’re like

seriously though, should I watch it?

July 18, 2019

Hey, I know it’s been 2 year but I’m back and somewhat better. I’m not with my toxic ex anymore so hey that’s a plus. Hmm what else? Oh! I have a new boyfriend. Yeah, but he bores me. Plus he’s into some girl we went to school with. He’s OBSESSED with her. When I first met him all he did was talk about her and how beautiful she is. I’d have to admit she is beautiful but she’s not my type. But my boyfriend is in love with her.

Speaking of in love, my boyfriend has a friend. I’m kinda into him. And by kinda I mean I’m CAPTIVATED by him. After I met him something in my gut told me I was with the wrong friend. Ha! How crazy is that? This friend and I have so much in common. It’s like we are on the same mindwave. When I met him I had this connection with him that I can’t exactly explain. Lol but we we’re also high, and starred at each other for what felt like an hour. (maybe it was just 3 to 5 minutes) Anywho, we would..(we as in my boyfriend and I).. go out to the bars and we would invite him. He once touched my butt once. Not going to lie I kinda LOVED it even if it was an honest mistake.

I can’t get him out of my head and I don’t know why! I need to figure out what to do.

Vote in the commented polls to help decide what they do next!  Previous installments under the ‘cc: choose your own’ tag!

Twitter and Tumblr have voted differently, so check out Twitter’s newest story path at https://twitter.com/catscradlezine/status/1531166426257469440!

Cat’s Cradle Preorders are open until June 19th!

“You’re telling me he isn’t your secret love child?”
1.  Shinsou is not my secret love child.
2.  If he is, you think I’d tell you?
3.  Stop changing the subject Dabi!  Bring Shigaraki to see the cats more often!
4.  Other (comment on post)

Vote at https://strawpoll.com/polls/QrgeVoo62Zp!

oh crap tomblrs today well welcome tom <3