heya!
welcome to my blog! it's a mess up in here and I don't really tag, just reblog anything shiny that catches my eye.
current fandoms include soc books/sab show, downton abbey, trigun, tlou, and black sails
I'm too lazy to make crappy .jpg stickers for these so here's the events I've been present for on this godawful website, in no particular order:
☑️ nov 5, 2020 aka desihellputinelection
☑️ evergiven
☑️ ofmd vs black sails massacre of 29.3.2023
☑️ et tu brute spn tweetfiasco
☑️ the breakdown of twitter via muskification
☑️ tumblrites driving out various celebrities and seemingly integrating Ryan Reynolds (alleged) and Lynda Carter (confirmed)
☑️ June 24th 2023 aka this year's November 5th, may it live forever in infamy (oceangate, Russian civil warn't, Logitech stock drop)
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hey, Leverage peeps, I've got a thought. I've seen a lot of posts and memes joking about Nate's inability to understand that his clients do not want money, they want revenge. I also find this funny. but I was thinking about it and I realized something: there's a personal reason behind it. there is a very, very good reason why Nate doesn't get that.
Nate's drive to lead Leverage, outside of the crew, originated from his son's death due to his insurance company's refusal to cover the bill for the required treatment. we all know this. if his company had paid for Sam's treatment, everything would've been fine.
…or, if Nate had been a little wealthier, had a little more change to spend… maybe he could've paid for it. maybe Blackpool never would've had a say in any of it. maybe Nate would've had everything under control from the start.
we've discussed at length in the fandom how money equals safety for some of the others in the crew (Parker and Hardison grew up with little to none and know its importance to survival, Eliot needs it to stay ahead of his old enemies, etc.), but I don't know that I've seen any discussion on how it's relevant to Nate. for him, however, money equals security in healthcare and in housing (he lost the house, remember?). Nate's older than the others. he remained in the same place for much longer, and he had a stable life for a while. the others haven't been in that position before. many of their clients, however, are at that place in life.
yes, for the others, money keeps them ahead of the game and it keeps them secure. but none of them ever lost a kid because they couldn't pay for healthcare. none of them risk losing the life of someone who is completely dependent on them when they don't have enough.
(Hardison, perhaps, has the closest understanding, considering he hacked a bank to pay for his Nana's healthcare. but he never lost her.)
Nate thinks ahead, you know? he has a long-term view of things. I imagine that for him, when clients refuse the money, they're not just refusing a month's worth of groceries, or a place to stay the night, or the ability to keep running. for him, they're refusing control over their hard-earned, stable, long-term living situation. they're refusing the potential to save a family member's life.
I dunno, guys. I think that's a pretty good reason to not understand why people don't want the money.
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Priorities
Summary: The reader is basically a horny fuck, her boyfriends been a bit too busy all day & she finally decides to go to him to take care of her problem. (i am an expert at summaries aren't i?💀)
Warnings: Smut :3. Soft fluffy smut, fingering, maybe a small bit of dom/sub? It's pretty vanilla mostly.
a/n: uhm yeah so, hi after idk how many months 💀 this might not be my best work since i haven't written in a long time so keep that in mind. ill try and get back to that kinky shit soon tho. inspired by this request.
NAVIGATION
–––––––
Aching, rotting, coveting.
It had been a day, ever since morning started, and you opened your eyes to empty bedsheets and a note scribbled beside your pillow, and a yearning left to rot in you for the rest of the day.
It wasn't too much to ask for your boyfriend to take you in the morning and just give you a productive start for the day right? It wasn't ‘needy’ just a mere necessity.
His stupid fucking note and the even stupider sentences written on it.
“I have quidditch practice today, I won't be able to meet you for the rest of the day.”
-Love, Draco.
Stupid, stupid note and an even more stupid burn in your lower abdomen.
So, for the rest of the horrible day, you went around classes, ate in some, slept in some, studied in some, and missed Draco in all of them.
You missed his hands, and the way they'd intertwine with yours, his kisses on your face, his taunting deep voice— oh god, that voice.
That dreamy deep, beautiful, incredibly arousing voice. The way he'd speak in low whispers as he'd press you down on the bed, and kiss along your naked body, and make promises and love.
His lean body, above yours, meeting your eyes, his hair falling over him temples as he pumps in and out of you, over and over and over.
Shit.
You should not be fucking having sexual fantasies about Draco in Charms class.
You hadn't even seen his face in the morning, not even kissed him.
And just, fuck this shit. Because, if you needed Draco, then you would have him, and he would give himself over to you, because your trusted he would.
He was yours, of course he would take care of you.
—
“Uh, Draco?” you said, calling out to him in the locker room. You'd seen him come inside, so surely he'd just be around somewhere.
“Sweetheart?” he said, puzzled. He paused. Stared at you for a moment, then dropped his kit on a bench.
Then you wanted to run back to the castle because he was probably not happy to see you here, he'd been busy all day and now he had to deal with you and—
All of those insecurities got shoved aside as he smiled— warmly— and started to walk over to you.
Two large hands wrapped around you, and tugged you towards him, burying you in his chest and kissing your forehead lovingly.
“Hi” he grinned, looking down at you. You smiled back, reached up and kissed him, hard. There was no point in hiding your want, so you just laid it out.
As though you were a clear parchment and he were the ink which spilled over it.
“Missed you— I missed you so much” you muttered, pulling away, and looking away from his eyes. “I can see that” he laughs, kissing your temple now.
You kissed him again on the mouth, pressing his hard, hot body right against your own. Feeling his skin and then feeling yourself starting to throb even harder.
The way his hair was messy and fell over his forehead, his shirt tight around his muscles. Just— so perfect.
One of his hands found your waist, balancing you, the other in your hair, tugging as your pressed your tongue in his mouth and deepened the kiss— you felt him smirk as you were kissing.
He pulled back after a moment, panting a little, and wickedly smirking.
“Well wow— you're something else today aren't you?” He ran a lanky— veiny— hand through his hair and smiled.
“I just.. need you” you said plainly.
“Need me? How so?” he raised a brow, and reached his hand down to your hip, squeezing hard until you gasped.
He kissed down your neck, and slid his hand into your shirt. “How do you need me, love?”
“Just— please, you know where. But if you're busy then—”
“I'm never busy for you, you're my priority sweetheart”
And that, really had you going. The affirmation, the slight teasing.
“I can't give you what you want unless you tell me”
You glared mildly at him, then grabbed his hand from your hip, and pressed it firmly— between your thighs.
He gasped as he felt you, throbbing, and slick even through the cotton of your panties. He moved his thumb to the apex of it, putting pressure there and licking at your throat now.
He grabbed you by your waist, and pulled you up on a counter. The pulled away only for a moment to put privacy charms around the locker room.
He said nothing, just unbuttoned your blouse, shoved your bra down, pulled your skirt up your hips, parted your thighs and stood between them.
“Pretty” he said to no one but himself, kissed you cheek and pulled your panties to the side. His fingers rubbed a circle around your clit, his eyes— avid, and fixed on the way his hand worked on your cunt.
He kissed along your breast, “This is where you needed it right?” he said, in a low voice, staring into your eyes as he ran a finger along your slit.
“I— yes” you nod, and arch into his fingers. His left hand cups your ass, not at all gently, and he taps his finger at your entrance.
Your legs involuntary part even more, offering yourself to him, he groans at that, and then pushes his finger deep inside until your head falls into the mirror behind you.
He's quick to pull out his finger and shove it back inside. His eyes seemed to have turned black now.
He wrapped his mouth around your nipple, his warm wet mouth, working around it as he pumped his finger.
“Fuck, look at that” he said, looking at the way you fell apart on his finger as he pushed another one inside. Working his hand so so perfectly— grunting at the sight and the sounds.
When his finger pumped harder, and then curled, you left out a whimper, a really loud one at that, and he smirked at it.
He was fucking you hard, taking no pause to give you what you wanted, thrusting his fingers until your thighs started shaking and he could only stare the whispering mess you were.
You gripped his shoulder, hard, pressed nails into him.
“I love how you trust me” he spoke, resting his forehead against yours as he kept fingering you. “My pretty angel just know when to come to me, don't you”
You nodded several times, “Yes, I— I trust you” you sobbed, trying to finally— finally sort out the rot which had been killing you all day.
“Fuck, Draco!” you gasped, and with that, you came. Clenching around his fingers, your legs shaking and your breaths shaky and loud.
Draco seemed to exhale in satisfaction, as if this gave him more pleasure than it did you.
“Was that good for you?” he asked, grinning as he pulled his fingers out and pressed then to his mouth, feeling you on his tongue.
You smiled, “So good”
———
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