Thena

||23||She/Her|| Just starting out please be nice! [Minors DNI]

[faeoftheforest]

And now even tho someone is asking for proof I mysteriously can’t message them…coincidentally

@dollishsims right…

Oh AND still hasn’t acknowledged their impact on our environment. Tells us the person you are.

[faeoftheforest]

This post is for the dumb bitch that thinks she’s so smart and is sick of me obviously outing her lazy ass use of ai to make posters even though she can takes hours upon days to make a sims item. You’re just upset I’m right so you wanted to argue in text messages. Any person with a cognizant eye and anything more than rocks for a brain can see that you use ai for some of your posts.

And of course to top things off you STILL won’t acknowledge the part where your use of ai is taking away clean drinking water from families. Whether it’s a family, or a farm land, or just one person. You won’t acknowledge that and that tells me just how guilty you are. For someone who want to act so smart and high and mighty you sure are an idiot and somehow think your poor attempts at discrediting me are actually smart enough to work.

So to top everything off here’s our very short log of messages since I strongly believe bigots don’t deserve privacy🫶💕

@dollishsims

[forksbug]

I really wanted to get done chapter three but I'm graduating this week so heres a small treat I wrote high and horny a few weeks ago instead.

Backshots

Jasper hale x fem!reader smut | MInors DNI

rough sex, porn w/o plot, p in v, belly bulge.

Bent over the plush comfort of the mattress, your legs strained to keep you upright. The tips of your toes were barely able to graze the cool wooden floor beneath you. Jasper surrounded you. His scent, his voice, his body. The weight of his chest pressed into your back, sinking you deeper into the soft linen. They smelled like him too. All that ran through your mind was him him HIM. Your mind was muddled with nothing but Jasper and the way he felt inside you, against you. A strong hand held your hips in place as he pounded into you. Deep, strong strokes pushing into that special bundle of nerves over and over, sending shockwaves through your body with each thrust. 

His groans reverberated, deep and guttural through his chest, rattling against your spine. Jasper’s other hand gripped the sheets with fervor, displaying the whites of his knuckles. You held onto him, nails digging into his wrist, desperately searching for an anchor. Each thrust of his heavy hips had you seeing stars and gasping like the air had been forced from your lungs. You could feel each breath he took against your neck, staggered and shaking with the fulfillment of his own pleasure. 

You shiver when his tongue darts out to trace up the column of your nape. Gently, he scrapes back down your delicate skin with his teeth, a low growl pushing through the lewd sounds filling the room. You feel him falter at the feeling of his teeth on your pretty throat, fighting so hard to stay under control. Jasper's lips follow back up your neck once again, soft, slow kisses pressed lovingly into your skin. Almost like a silent apology. His kisses trailed up toward your ear, pausing when he reaches the shell. 

For a moment he’s silent except for the huffs and moans that fell from his lips as he pounded into you relentlessly. 

“You have no clue-“ he draws lowly, pulling out slowly until just his tip is left nestled in your warmth, “how much,” he emphasizes with one powerful thrust, hitting that precious bundle of nerves perfectly, “you’ve been torturing me today darlin’.” Jasper rolls his hips into you, kneading his tip against your sweet spot. That alone has you squeezing around his cock, more slick dripping between your already messy and sticky thighs. Earning you an almost feral growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. It had him pummeling into you once again at the same mind numbing pace, with his nose buried into the crook of your neck. Your scent was intoxicating, he could smell that subtle shift in your hormones. The shift that left the warmth of your cunt dripping and aching for touch, you were ovulating. It had been driving him mad all day, he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. He could feel every ounce of arousal that radiated from you. 

His thrust became rougher, slamming into hard enough you could hear the bed scrape the ground as it shifted. Your moans that filled the space becoming loud cries and sobs as your eyes rolled back into your skull. Your mind so clouded the only thing you could think of was him. Nothing could be better than hearing you moan his name. It made his aching cock pulse with need. 

Your legs kicked and your thighs trembled as you felt that familiar tightening building in your stomach. You hadn’t realized just how much you had been writhing and squirming until the arm that you had been holding onto curled around your abdomen. You were pressed tightly against his chest, unable to move, taking each rough stroke off his cock against your walls. “Oh~ no you don't, sweetheart, no running from this.” His weight pushed down against your back while his palm pushed up on your womb, feeling how he bulged inside you. Stars danced behind your eyes while your hips pushed back into Jaspers, your body tensing and shaking as your orgasam raked through your body. You finished with his name on your lips, crying out for Jasper as he fucked you through the high. He whispered praises and sweet nothings in your ear, rubbing small soothing circles into your hip. His thrusts easing to a slow sensual roll of his hips. His own body shook as he came, pressing you against his cool body as much as possible, his low growls becoming animalistic and feral. 

Jasper's lips began to kiss your neck once more, slow and soft. “Take your time darlin’, catch your breath.” He cooed. His hands, despite their gentle touch, rubbed your body with need. Down your neck and along your spine, messaging the flesh of your ass and thighs. His other hand rubbing up and down your stomach, sometimes pushing up a giant his cock that still rested hard inside you and stroking in tight circles. Despite him telling you to take your time he was ready to go again.

[faeoftheforest]

Oh my pussy wet

[faeoftheforest]

I ovulating and the only lewd thoughts I have are about my fucking coworker, omg I’m losing my mind I need him to TOUCH ME NOW!!!

[forksbug]

Go Slowly Masterlist

Chapter 2 - First Impressions

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You had woken up earlier than expected this morning, rising with the sun instead of your alarm clock. The clouded sun had prickled through your curtains, illuminating your room just enough. Slowly your eyes eased open, the chirping of birds filling the serene silence of your room. With a quick bleary eyed glance to the alarm clock on your nightstand you realized you had an extra hour before your alarm even went off. 

Peacefully resting, you laid in the same spot, unmoving, welcoming the comfortable silence. When you began to fully wake up, coming to your full senses, you noticed a small warmth pressed against your stomach, toffee. You lifted the plush comforter to reveal the fluffy mass, snoozing in a ball against your body. You ran a hand through her soft marbled brown fur and she nuzzled into your hand still sound asleep.

‘Calm mornings make for a good day’  You thought about what your dad used to say, hoping it really was true. You needed today to be good, afterall, it is your first day at Forks High.

༉‧₊˚.

The car wound around the corners of each street. Trees covered in snow and deep green brush lined the road for miles and miles. Lady Luck had shown down upon you today, the continuous snow and heavy downpour had subsided for the day. Although still cloudy, the day was a bit warmer than a few days ago. The waterproof jacket you had donned to combat the cold snow was left hanging on a hook at home today, traded for a soft warm wool lined jacket instead. You had spent an embarrassingly long time in your mirror this morning picking an outfit. First impressions. 

You closed your eyes and let your head rest against the window, enjoying the feeling of the cool glass on your skin. The heat flowed through the car, warming up the car and wrapping around you with a comforting warmth. As you watched the vibrant green trees blur with each passing, you wondered how your day would be, what the school was like. Were people nice? Would you make friends?

The car smoothed to a fault as your mom pulled up next to the curb in front of the school. The tension in your body was evident as your leg bounced sporadically, your gaze fixed on the two big brown doors that lead into the school. Letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, your shoulders sagged. You unbuckled your seatbelt, grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car, before you closed the door your gaze shifted to your mom.

“You’ll be fine.” She mimicked a deep breath, reminding you to take one yourself. With that you turned away, moving towards the double doors. 

When you entered the school there wasn’t as much movement as you had expected, granted, you were there a bit early to get your schedule. The front office was incredibly easy to find, posters for school events, psa’s, student projects, and winter decorations clung to the windows. “WELCOME BACK STUDENTS” had been plastered across the glass with tape and construction paper letters in the Spartans signature yellow and blue. 

As you enter the main office you greet the woman at the desk, her face becoming ecstatic the moment she laid eyes on you. “Oh my, you must be our other new student, aren’t you just a dime a dozen. Let’s get you settled sweetheart.” The secretary, who you soon learn is Mrs.Cope, tells you about the school and your classes. Bio, history, calc, english, P.E., all the boring stuff but at least you had a free period. The big light above hums monotonously as she goes over where everything is. As much as you were paying attention you still struggled to understand where you were supposed to be going. Before you're able to ask anymore questions a bright flash goes off in your peripheral, startling you from your conversation. 

You hadn’t even noticed someone entering the room, great spatial awareness on your behalf. “Wow you’re actually so effortlessly stunning.” A girl holding a camera says, looking down at the camera at the picture she had just taken of you. She was pretty, with tanned skin, dark hair pulled into a ponytail, and slim glasses that framed her face perfectly. 

“Do you mind if I write an article about you for the Spartan Shield, our school paper?” She looked up from the camera at you hopefully expectant. 

“Uh- sure, yeah,” Although a bit apprehensive about the whole school paper thing, you didn’t mind sharing a bit about yourself. 

“Really?! Oh this is great, we got turned down by the other new girl already.” She let out a little disappointed sigh at the thought, “I would’ve had to write about padding on the swim team.” 

At that she earned a chuckle from you. “Wait, they really do that?” 

“Oh my gosh, yes! It’s ridiculous!” 

Your mouth fell into a shocked ‘O’ before giggles started to pour out from your lips. The smile that graced your face was radiant and although you couldn’t tell, the girl could, as she quickly snapped another photo. “Hey!” You let out in mock surprise, at least this time the flash wasn’t on.

“Sorry, you just really look good in this light, plus your smile was perfect.” Flattery is a very powerful thing, and this girl was stroking your ego with her words of affirmation. It had warmth pooling in your cheeks, and an unrefutably sappy smile playing at your lips. It felt nice to be complimented, especially with the nerves of your first day of school weighing so heavily on you.

“I can meet you during free period in the library to work on your interview.” You had no clue where the library was, hell, you didn’t even know it was there till the girl had just mentioned it. 

“Sure sounds good,” You nodded, making a mental note to go look for it later in the day. The girl gave you a final smile before turning to walk out the door to the office. “Oh I forgot to ask, what’s your name?” You ask quickly before she makes it fully out the door.

“Angela, It was nice to meet you!” You wave goodbye to her through the window of the office door before turning back to Ms.Cope as she resumed your conversation about your classes and the school. 

༉‧₊˚.

Your face crumpled as you stared daggers back down at the paper. A printed map of the school, all the buildings, rooms, and other miscellaneous places. Ms.Cope had drawn in some dots and lines to make the search easier but her scribbles proved to be futile. To you it was like reading ancient texts as you struggled to find your class. First thing at eight you have English class and as seven fourty-three rolled around it was still nowhere in sight. You could’ve sworn you’d gone in circles at least three times. Are you even in wing B? Had you seen that water fountain before? 

You could feel the curious glances following you as you passed through the halls. The pause in conversation as you walked past unfamiliar faces was audibly deafening. You desperately wanted nothing more than to hide from the prying eyes and hushed whispers. 

“Hi! I’m Alice!” You flinched as a girl appeared in front of you, bright eyed and with a welcoming smile. Something about her was so familiar…like the girl from your dream. It made you wonder if the boy you saw might be a real person too.

“Uh…hi.” You blink owlishly before telling her your name, she had caught you so off guard that it took you a moment to process what was going on. 

“I noticed you looked a bit lost, did you need help finding a class?” She pointed at the scribbled on map in your hands.

“Actually, yeah I do, thanks.” You passed her your schedule without a second thought.

“Oh! You actually have class with me, come on I’m headed that way.” Alice began down the hall, each of her steps full of graceful pep. You followed close next to her as she navigated the halls with ease. As you walked you tried your best to observe the rest of the school, rooms, decorations, the way the hall curved and the large windows that stretched along the walls. 

“So…why’d you move to forks?” Alice piped up curiously.

“Oh we wanted to be closer to my grandma.” You left out the part about her dying, you don’t need a pity party right now. 

“That’s so sweet. I hope you like it here, I can show you around some time if you’d like.” Alice looked to you with a hopeful gaze. 

“Sure that would be great!” You nodded. 

Alice clapped her hands together with a small squeal. “This’ll be great, I promise you’ll love my tour of forks!” Her excitement was palpable, it was like she had infinite energy. 

Your conversation came to a halt as the two of you made it to the open classroom door. Some people had already seated themselves, others lingered around the classroom standing and talking to their friends. “Come sit with me.” Alice whispered. And so you did, following her to the seats she chose at the perfect spot in the classroom. Not all the way in the back but not too close to the front either, and you had a good view of the window. 

You glance up at the clock, seven fifty-two, ‘not bad timing’. Setting your bag down you settled into the desk next to Alice’s. There wasn’t much for you to do before the start of class. You took a moment to look around, taking in your new surroundings. Poetry, art, book covers, and writing strategies covered each wall fully, even going above and around the chalkboard. Books sat at the front, most of them seemed to be academic textbooks but some were regular novels. You notice a few books that you’ve read before, all classic literature Romeo & Juliet, Sense and Sensibility, Persuasion. ‘Interesting’ you thought to yourself, you guessed whoever your English teacher had a taste for secret romance stories. You couldn’t judge though, they are all very good books…and maybe they sit in your home library too, worn from how many times they’ve been picked up and read.

Your observation is cut short when you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. You pull it out quickly just to see what the notification was. Its Evangeline, (How is skl? NY wint is so brrr) You thought about just how far away your sister was in that moment. The two of you were on completely opposite sides of the country, different time zones, but at least you both had the same cold winter weather. You go to text back when your phone catches Alice’s attention, she lets out a gasp. 

“You have the new Razr!” She gawks audibly, catching the attention of other students in the classroom. ‘It's so cute, oh my gosh I need it’  you hear from one girl, ‘isn't that the one Paris Hilton has?’ another whispers to her friend. You hear the little conversations start around the classroom, all because of your phone! 

“How much even is that?” A girl a few rows from you leans over to ask her friend. 

“Like almost five hundred!” Both girls share wide eyed looks before looking back at you.

Okay so maybe your family was a bit more well off than you liked to express. In fact you didn’t like telling anybody about just how much money your family made. You didn’t want to be known for your connection to money, you especially didn’t like flaunting it. Your mom had got you one before the release date for Christmas, ‘one of our firm's clients is cellphone manufacturer but don’t go telling’ she had told you when she asked. Perks of having a lawyer as a mom you guessed. 

“I love that color!” Alice says as she looks over the phone. 

“Thanks, it’s my favorite color.” You really hadn’t realized but almost everything you used on a daily was your favorite color. You never bought them all in the same color on purpose either. 

“Are you going to dec-” Alice’s next question is cut short when a loud animalistic growl echoes from outside. The classroom went silent as you and the other students looked to the windows trying to spot what may have made that noise. The search however is futile as nothing comes into view but the grassy fields and the tree lined forest beyond it. 

“There must be a very upset animal nearby, I suggest you all make sure you are careful going outside.” The teacher announces to the class as he entered the classroom, setting down his bag with a theatrical thud. You turn to Alice to ask her about him when you notice the shift in her emotions. She reminded you of an animal on high alert the way she was watching the window, her gaze focused and her face unreadable. 

“Alice? Is something wrong?” You whispered. You didn’t really want to pry but something about her expression concerned you. 

Her eyes didn’t leave the window as she spoke to you, distinctly locked on something. Yet when you looked out the window in the same direction you saw nothing but trees at the edge of the forest blowing in the wind. “Yup! Great, I was just looking at the forest.” 

༉‧₊˚.

Despite the odd occurrences of the morning, the rest of your day moved fairly smoothly without much thought. You found your history class easily with Alice’s help once she helped you figure out the map of the school. During your free period you met up with Angela in the school library to answer some questions for the Spartan Shield like you had agreed. You made a mental note to check out the library in your free time, maybe hunt out a book or two. The questions were a lot simpler than you thought. Where are you from? What's your name? Do you have pets? What's your favorite color? Easy Stuff, definitely not as invasive as you had worried about. You were having so much fun talking with Angela and answering her questions that neither of you had heard the bell ring for your next period so you ended up being a little late to lunch. When you walked into the cafeteria you saw Bella, she was sitting at a table with a couple other students including Angela, but much to your dismay it was full. You gave Belaa a small wave and she waved back. 

You look around the cafeteria searching for somewhere to sit. As you're walking towards an empty table you had spotted you heard your name being called. “Come sit!” It was Alice!

 “We have an open seat, Emmett left early today." Alice said as she pushed the chair out for you to sit in.  

“Emmett?” You had heard that name whispered earlier that day when you were in history. Something about him acting “strange” and practically running out of class. ‘I think he was sick,’ one girl whispered. You hadn't understood what any of it meant at the time. 

“Oh sorry, our brother.” Alice explained. 

“Ohhh, well I hope he feels better.” Alice blinks at you for a moment, like she hadn't understood what you’d said. 

“Oh! Yeah he wasn't feeling well, but he's resting now.” You’re glad to hear it, being sick during school was always something you hated. You knew the feeling of just wanting to get out and go home.

When you finally sit down you greet the others at the table, earning you a few waves and ‘hellos’. You notice one of the boys at the table also looks like the boy from your dream, just like Alice…what an odd coincidence. 

Lunch went on as you chatted quietly with the Cullens, ignoring all the eyes watching you from afar. Alice and you talked for the most part but you got a chance to talk to the others as well, except for Edward, who seemed to have his eyes on Bella the entire time. ‘They’d make a cute couple’ you thought, and almost as if he had heard you, Edwards' eyes flitted over to yours for a brief moment before looking away. Jasper was kind but very quiet, whenever he talked it sounded a bit strained like he was in pain, but you just brushed it off as nerves. You didn't want to say he was strange per se but he didn't blink a lot, you guessed he just had a staring problem. Rosalie on the other hand was a different ball park, she wasn't really mean to you, more like standoffish, but at least she talked to you, she kept her answers short and watched you with a very keen eye.

༉‧₊˚.

That evening you sat curled on the couch of your cozy home in your pajamas, one of your fingers occupied, twirling a strand of hair while you worked on your homework. Your grandmother sat across from you quietly, watching her soaps play across the screen of the tv. You took a moment from your homework to look up and just observe. Your grandmother was so different now, reaching the end of her life so quickly and all you could do was make her comfortable as she withered away. She used to be so lively, dancing around the house, working diligently in the garden, and laughing loudly to her heart's content. Now she was merely skin and bones, her body lay stationary, the less she moved, the less pain she was in. Despite the morphine flowing through her system you could still see sometimes when she would wince as you helped her adjust. Some days you wondered just how you got here, why her? And why now?

The sound of keys jingling in the door broke you from your thoughts. The sound of the door opening and closing was followed by the familiar ‘click clack’ of your mothers heels against the hardwood floors. 

“Hi honey.” Your mom leant down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, before walking over to your grandmother and doing the same. 

“Hi mom. Did you two eat?” You nodded. You watched as your mother released herself from the confines of her work attire and equipment. Setting her keys in the bowl and her purse on the hook, before plopping down on the bench by the door to kick off her heels. She let out a content sigh once both her feet were free, standing she flexed her toes and stretched her ankles. She crossed the floor, moving towards the kitchen she pulled off her blazer and took her hair out of its tight bun, letting out another content sigh as she massaged her scalp. 

“Mama, are you in pain?” She asked the same question everyday like clockwork, to an outsider it would seem like a normal question for someone on hospice care. In reality it was your mothers gauge, was today a good day, or a bad day? And what the answer was, was your gauge, would your mom sleep quietly tonight? Or would she pace the house till late, watching your grandmother sleep, monitoring every rise and falls of her chest?

“No, I’m okay.” Your grandmother couldn’t see behind her, the way your mothers shoulder sagged with relief. Nowadays it was like walking on eggshells when it came to your grandmother's health, her days were extremely limited. You all fear you’ll lose her at any given moment. Your mother took a deep breath and rubbed small circles in her chest. ‘Hard day’ you knew those mannerisms, whatever she had to deal with at work today had her nerves shot. You could tell in the way she carried herself, her emotions were bubbling to the surface and she really needed something good to end her day. 

She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and walked over to the dispenser to fill it before coming to sit on the couch next to you. “Soooo…how was school?” She looks at you expectantly waiting for your rendition of your day.

“It wasn’t too bad, I struggled to find my class at first which was embarrassing but a girl I met helped me and I think she wants to be my friend. She wants to hangout and show me Forks sometime. Oh! And we played badminton today in PE, I was actually pretty good!” Your mother watched you closely as you rattled off the interesting parts of your day. 

“That’s great! Who’s the girl you met?” She nudges you with your shoulder, you were so nervous this morning but now it all seemed a lot easier.

“Alice Cullen, she’s really nice.” At that your mother smiled but the sharp sound of your grandmother turning in her chair had caught your attention. 

"You stay away from Cullen's, do you understand me?" She spat angrily. Just their name alone, ‘those Cullen’s’ was like venomous bile spat from between her gritted teeth. "I don't want to hear about or see you around any one of them ever!" Her fist thudded loudly against the wooden table desk next to her chair, rattling the items on it.

"Lullit you sent your daughter to that school with those wretched heathens?!" You had never heard her speak in such a way about anyone like this.

"Grandma, they're not evil! They're my age and they've done nothing but be kind to me!" You looked to your mother for some kind of help, meeting her eyes with an almost desperate plea.

"Listen to your grandmother please...she's lived here, she knows what she's talking about."

You paused for a beat, taken aback by your mothers agreeance. She's usually a very reasonable person, she didn't even ask why your grandmother didn't like them. For god sake she was a lawyer, and she didn't ask any questions? "Are you serious?" Your face held a muddle of confused and hurt emotions. This was so out of character for both of them.

"Am I serious? Who the hell are you talking to? Better yet, who the hell are you questioning?" Your mother’s once exasperated tone was now raised and bubbled over with anger. "I said what I said and that's the end of it."

You wanted to scream and yell, say how unfair and judgmental this was but there would be no use. You knew if you argued back this would only turn into another ugly screaming match. Your mother's mind was set, whether it be in anger or resignation to your grandmother there was no getting through to them about this now. Silently you nodded, your shoulders slumped in defeat and your eyes trained on the speck of dust stuck to your fuzzy socks.

I hope you guys like this chapter, I'm experimenting with longer chapters so let me know how you guys like this one! I can wait till our reader and Emmett meet!

MWAH! 💋

[enretrogue]

Black reader who’s dark skinned. Black reader who’s light skinned. Black reader who’s brown skinned. Black reader who has Albanism. Black reader who has vitiligo.

Black reader who’s Soulaan/African American. Black reader who’s Caribbean. Black reader who’s latine. Black reader who’s West African. Black reader who’s East African. Black reader who’s Central African. Black reader who’s South African.

Black reader with tight coils. Black reader with looser curls. Black reader with a relaxer. Black reader with a pixie cut. Black reader with a bald head. Black reader with alopecia. Black reader with locs.

Black reader from the hood. Black reader from the suburbs. Black reader from the city. Black reader from the country.

Black reader with glasses. Black reader who’s deaf. Black reader who’s blind. Black reader with a physical disability. Black reader with an intellectual disability. Black reader with a visible disability. Black reader with a hidden disability.

Black reader who’s Muslim. Black reader who’s Atheist. Black reader who’s Christian. Black reader who’s Catholic. Black reader who’s Agnostic.

Black reader who’s queer. Black reader who’s gay. Black reader who’s Lesbian. Black reader who’s bisexual. Black reader who’s ace. Black reader who’s transfem. Black reader who’s transmasc. Black reader who’s nonbinary. Black reader who’s genderfluid.

Black reader who’s an athlete. Black reader who’s a bookworm. Black reader who’s alternative. Black reader who’s punk. Black reader who’s goth. Black reader who’s preppy.

Black reader who was one of the “cool kids “. Black reader who was one of the “weird kids”.

Black reader who’s a STEM major. Black reader who’s a Liberal Arts major. Black reader who’s an Art major. Black reader who learned a trade.

Black reader who’s a student. Black reader who’s a teacher. Black reader who’s a doctor. Black reader who’s an engineer. Black reader who’s a writer. Black reader who’s an artist. Black reader who’s a cosmetologist. Black reader who’s an electrician. Black reader who’s a cashier.

Black reader who’s a daughter. Black reader who’s a son. Black reader who’s a father. Black reader who’s a mother.

We are not a monolith. We are beautiful. We are capable. We deserve to take up space in this world.

Happy Black History Month! Shout out to us!

❤️🖤🔱🖤❤️

And because I’m Soulanni/African American, stream “Sexy Soulaan” by MONALEO!

[totesnotbeyonce]

please lawd 😔🙏🏾

[milkluvr333]

Not pleased with the lack of new fics for my fav characters (hyper fixations) lately. The withdrawals are eating me alive

[forksbug]

I have a sickeningly strong obsession with twilight atm and feel the urge to create a multi chapter story about a black girl in forks who inevitably falls in love with Emmett with this kind of vine….

[rosescxrner]

This seems to be one of my biggest hear me out's, because no one I know irl supports me, but I know tumblr will have my back

HEAR ME OUT

[faeoftheforest]

My asf because no one writes for Harry wells but I js rewatched the flash and am overly freaked out everytime I see that man. SOMEONE FEED MY NEED PLEEEEEEEEASSE I couldnt even find anything good on AO3 GUYS!!!

[faeoftheforest]

So my sim had sex with this guy he had met and had good compatibility with...and turns out IT WAS HIS PROFESSOR?!?!?! HOW DID HE NOT KNOW

IS THIS GOING TO AFFECT HIM GETTING HIS DEGREE?!?!

[forksbug]

Emmett Cullen Smut Drabble

18+ below the line! Minors DNI! Praise! Pet names!

P w/o plot

The way his cock pounded into your silky heat was mind numbing. His cock reaching so deep inside you and stretching you so deliciously it had you seeing stars. You had long lost your ability to think or even speak a semi-coherent sentences a while ago. Whimpers and broken moans of his name were all you could give. You held onto Emmett as he fucked you mercilessly into the mattress, nails digging into his broad shoulders. You let him take and ravish you and your entire being. Your pretty moans and desperate whimpers filling his ears, making his cock twitch against your warm walls.

He hummed low and sultry, the deep rumble in his chest vibrating against your own. "Love you pretty girl— Fuck, I love you" You could feel the way his lips curled into that cocky smile against the crook of your neck when he felt you tighten around him. All worked up over him telling you he loves you. How cute. "Yeah baby?" He pushes deep into you, a strong hand pressing down on your stomach feeling the way he's stretching you. "You like that pretty girl?" His words only adding to your pleasure, his voice drawing you in like a siren. "I mean every bit of it," His lips meet your plush ones in a soft but hot kiss, his actions expressing what his words couldn't. "Mmm— and don't you fucking forget that," he can feel the way your body shakes under him as you cum on his cock, "love you so much." Soft kisses pepper your face as he fucked you through your high, whispering sweet praises in your ear.

Hope you guys enjoyed it! This is literally my first ever time posting my writing so I hope I did well! Lmk if there's anything y'all would like to see my asks are open! 🎀

[faeoftheforest]

[faeoftheforest]

Poetry heals my soul, I may not write it as often as I wish, or get to showcase my ability, and I may be too scared to just show it to people. But spilling my guts in that beautiful mumbo jumbo of interconnected symbolism heals me just by writing it.

[staytrueblue]

The way this beautiful SAS man took the bullets out has me hypnotized

first off I would like to thank god

[spider-mann]

David Corenswet for GQ photographed by Noua Unu

[faeoftheforest]

My god, I wanna lick him

[fawnindawn]

he's all that.

clark kent x reader. (3.2k)

summary: as a reporter of the daily planet, you haven’t been shy of your dislike for superman. clark is desperate to prove to you how superman, and by extension, him, is not as bad as you think.

content: flufff, clark kent being an adorable loser, still a loser as superman, interview banter, superman as the wingman for clark (cheeky ik), silly coworkers having a crush on each other but having no idea its reciprocated, office romance

author’s note: seeing clark’s frustration in the interview and article scene in superman 2025 got my head spinning 😏

“Okay, but why do you dislike him?”

Clark is on his interrogation case again. You don’t blink an eye as he settles across your desk, squeezing into the office chair with one elbow leaning on the armrest as he waits expectantly, almost desperately for your answer.

Every time you publish a new article with your detailed opinions on Superman’s recent actions, to provide an alternate perspective against the other rose-coloured articles of Metropolis’s favourite metahuman, Clark is always the first in line to question you.

“I don’t particularly dislike him.” Typing away at your computer to polish up one of your drafts, you rehearse the same line you tell everyone. “How could I dislike someone I’ve never met?”

“Then why the title?” He huffs. “I mean, come on. 'Superman’s Ulterior Motives In Recent Metropolis Fire Controversy'? You make him sound like a criminal."

“Come on, Clark.” You give him a pointed look. “You know how article headlines work. If I wrote something like “a critical approach to Superman’s latest actions regarding the fuel explosion”, who would read that?”

“I would.” His response is immediate, and it forces you to crane your neck, away from your latest article that’s been giving you writer’s block, to cast your attention to him.

“I appreciate the sentiment, but one reader wouldn’t exactly meet my paycheck’s expectations.”

“Well, I’m sure there are others who would appreciate a less cash-grabby title.” He retorts.

He realises the error in his words the moment he's on the receiving end of your icy glare.

“I have work to do, Clark.” Placing a metal sign that states "DO NOT DISTURB" on your desk, he doesn't need a hint to get that you're telling him to leave. "Even if you don’t appreciate my efforts, you could at least go distract someone else with your critiques.”

Clark knows he’s made a huge mistake. He doesn’t actually think your work is cash-grabby, he just wished you could see him- well, his alter identity in a more positive light. He loves your work, even if it makes him cringe when you point out his flaws with your cutting tongue, getting under his skin better than anyone else could.

You’re brilliant, and he’s just.. him. As Clark Kent, he doesn’t hold a candle to you. You’re fierce, bold and you leave a mark with your words and your presence. He can’t even begin to describe how much he admires you, but you barely even glance his way.

Maybe that’s why he’s in the office, eight on the dot every morning with a coffee in hand for you, asking you about your articles, your thought process, anything to get a few minutes with you.

Now, he’s officially screwed it up. Whatever tolerance you held for him previously, it’s all gone now thanks to his stupidity.

He sighs, shutting down his computer. He can’t even focus, and his eyes were starting to strain over staring at the blank document. Glancing over at you, you’re still typing away, with that same furrow in your brow that he’s memorised in his mind. How could he make it up to you? How could he change your mind?

Shifting his weight, his chair squeaks as he ponders.

“What are you looking at?” Clark jumps, suddenly registering Jimmy’s voice. Its rare for him to not hear footsteps nearing him, and it's only more proof of how much of a distraction you were. “Oh, her. Your office crush.”

“I do not have a crush.” Clark interjects, feeling oddly defensive. Having a crush on you, it makes his neck hot from the mere thought of it. “I just made her angry, and I’m thinking of how to make amends.”

Jimmy laughs. “Unless you somehow snag an interview with Superman for her, I think you’re going to have to wait awhile for her to cool down.”

“What did you just say?”

“That you’ll have to wait awhile?”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh, an interview?” Jimmy scratches at his head. “I overheard her talking to Lois about how she’s stuck on her most recent article, and that she wished she could have a one-on-one with Superman to hear his perspective.”

That’s it. He may have screwed it up with you as Clark Kent, but Superman may be able to salvage this. Clark practically leaps off his chair, giving Jimmy a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, man. Seriously, I owe you.”

“Woah, dude. You’re heavy.” Jimmy huffs. “You’re welcome? But how are you going to get Superman to agree? It’s not like you have his contact or anything, do you?”

Clark doesn’t bother to reply, determination coursing through his blood as he walks out the office. Nearly out of ear-shot, he still hears Jimmy’s ‘Wait, Clark! Do you?’ repeating as an echo through the walls.

By the time you've managed to break a paragraph into your latest article, you feel that incoming headache and back-pain on its way to torment you for your incompetence. There's this block in your mind that refuses to be drained, and your tension with Clark earlier this morning certainly didn't aid you in your focus. You look up, noticing that the office is practically empty, and that most of the lights are off except for a few desk lamps from other co-workers who haven't left either.

You eye Clark's desk discretely, only to feel a pang of disappointment that he's already left. You rarely fought with him, as much as he was an insistent Big Blue fan. He was the sweetheart of the office, and on some days, you'd like to think he extended his sweetness a little more to you than everyone else. After today's conversation, you probably soured his impression on you after bashing his favourite metahuman in your headlines.

There's some part of you that worries you won't see him at your desk tomorrow with your coffee and another debate ready on his lips. He had left so early, which is incredibly unlike him. He couldn't possibly still be upset that you told him to bugger off, did he? He didn't seem like the type to hold a grudge, but maybe today was a step too far?

You shook your head, trying to shake off all your thoughts about your strange co-worker with his oddly charming demeanour and a size too large for his clumsy antics. Maybe you should pack up and go for a walk to clear your head. Sitting around here wasn't doing you much good other than increasing the hours of your back and eye strain.

Metropolis was nice at night. The city, which was always packed with crowds and honking cars, had quiet down at this hour. You watched as the lights went out in the tall buildings around you, signaling people leaving their work stations or going to sleep for the day.

If only you could get your hands on an interview opportunity with Superman. Funnily enough, despite having lived in Metropolis your whole life, you've never seen the hero who was so beloved in people's hearts. Other than social media spottings and the morning news, you have never seen the actual man who captivated Metropolis.

Kicking a crushed soda can on the sidewalk, you wonder if your bad luck in sighting him has to do with your articles being the singular negative perspective in the Daily Planet.

"Should I consider that as littering?"

Your head snaps up, and you.. can't believe it.

"Superman." You gasp, and realise this is probably the first time you've addressed him to his face rather than through an article.

He smiles, and you're surprised by how human it is. He bends down, picking up the soda can you kicked and tossed it into the nearest trash can- which was nearly ten feet away.

"You shouldn't be out alone this late." He comments. "The city's crime rate is higher at night."

"Isn't that what you're here for?" You ask. "To keep the city safe?"

His dimple deepens, and he lowers his head in a nod. "I do my best, but I can't be around every area no matter how fast I try to fly."

"Right." Through your daze, only one thought comes through with sharp clarity. You can't lose this opportunity to interview him. "Um, actually. I'm a news reporter from the Daily Planet. I was wondering if we could have a-"

"An interview?" His voice is filled with mirth. "Of course."

That was easy. Easier than expected. The daunting task and envy of Clark being able to secure interviews with Superman so easily seems less intimidating now, but you find yourself at a loss of what to ask as you prepared your recorder.

"What is your line of thought regarding the recent Metropolis fire?" You decided to start there, the topic most fresh in your mind from having just published the article this morning.

"I saw people that needed saving, so I did just that." He answers.

"However, when you saved the culprits who intentionally started the fire and insisted they be brought to the hospital and taken care for, you received a lot of criticism for not considering the victims who had to watch you care for the culprits."

"In life or death situations, I don't place people in boxes based on their roles. I do think the culprits need to face the consequences of their actions, but they were also injured. A life is still a life."

"You have very strong morals." You responded. "However, people are concerned on whether your judgement can be misplaced one day, and that you'll let the wrong people walk off free because you only cater to your own morals. What do you have to say to that?"

"If I had to consider what everyone wanted before I made a decision, I would have lost a lot of lives. In my situation, I will always be prone to making mistakes, so I try to make the ones I'll least regret."

"That is true." You answered, not expecting him to be so honest and open to your intrusive questions. "You are one of the only few metahumans in Metropolis. Have you ever felt out-casted by living on Earth?"

"Not really." He shrugs. "I always saw myself as human. I was raised by human parents with a normal human life. I am a Metropolitan as much as everyone else here."

"Just with ridiculous strength and the ability to fly." You point out.

He laughs. "And that too."

He walks alongside you as you add on more questions, your excitement palpable over the chance to finally have a real debate with the man himself. He's charming- irritatingly so, and sometimes, you have to force yourself to focus on what he's saying and not the way his eyes glimmer under the street lights, or how his height makes you crane your neck to look at him in the eye.

“So do you swoon all reporters this way to keep your pristine reputation?” You tease.

“Nope.” That damn dimple of his. “You’re the first person I’ve ever done this with.”

“Interviews? You sure give plenty to Clark.”

“Clark?" His expression freezes for a moment before relaxing. "Ah, that Daily Planet reporter? He’s a nice guy who happens to be around whenever I.. save people.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” You huff. “He might be your biggest fan.”

He takes note of your tone, the near sigh at the end of it. “Do you not.. like him?”

“No, I never said that! It’s just that..” How could you tell Superman of all people that you had a disagreement with Clark just this morning about him? “I was a little harsh with him this morning.”

“How so?”

“Well, before I met you.” Evading your gaze, your force yourself to admit the truth. “My impression was different to his, and it was quite obvious from my articles. He commented that my works were cash-grabby.”

“That’s a rude thing to say.” He responds.

“Really?” You implore. “I mean, I wasn’t exactly kind when twisting my words to fit the narrative of what sells. I didn’t consider how you also have feelings, and that you’ll probably feel horrible if you read what I wrote. Maybe I felt defensive about what he said because I was scared he’d be right.”

“Well, he isn’t right.” His gaze is determined, so sure his words are the truth. “Your articles are amazing, and he’s a fool to comment on them so carelessly.”

You blink. “You read my articles?”

He realises his accidental confession, his lips stuttering to come up with a response. “Occasionally.” He coughs, being the one to avert his gaze this time. “I am a Metropolitan, and you make good headlines for the news covers. Even I can be curious about what the Daily Planet writes about me.”

”My, if Superman is keeping an eye on my writing, I’ll have to be careful on what I say.”

“No, I like your honesty.” There he goes again with that smile. You understand what people mean when they say it blinds you. “It’s refreshing. And it’s good journalism.”

You snort at his words. “If Clark heard you say that, he’ll never dare critique my articles again.”

“You sure do mention Clark a lot.” He murmurs. “Is he a close colleague or..”

“Oh, not really.”

For some reason, his expression dampens at your words.

“He’s, how do I put it?” You mutter. “He’s like this ball of sunshine. He’s always got something nice to say to everyone, and a real big heart. He'll help out when the photocopier is down, when someone could use an extra coffee, when someone needs a proofreader. He’s the complete opposite of me. It's like he came into this world to help others.”

“Is that a bad thing?” He asks.

“No, actually I-” You bite your lip, wondering if you should tell him. I mean, it’s not like him and Clark are tied to the hip or anything, it’s practically the same as telling a stranger. “I kind of do- like him.”

Superman is silent. Deathly silent. It’s like he’s going through cardiac arrest, and you hurry to speak to clear the air. “You can’t tell him. I swear, not even my closest friends know about this.”

He seems to be recovering from your words, with a small grin raising the left corner of his lips. “I can keep a secret.”

“No, seriously. No one except you and my cat knows about this.” You sigh, feeling the flurry of emotions overwhelm you. “He drives me crazy.”

He looks like he’s trying to contain his laugh, making you feel even more silly. “How so?”

“He never gives me a break to recover from well, him. It's like he's always ready as soon as I reach the office with my favourite coffee, having already read through my entire article even if I published it minutes before. He’s always hogging my desk and asking me questions during my break too, and I do my best to not feel special because he treats everyone nicely.”

“From the way you put it, I think he likes you too.”

“Seriously?” You ask, trying hard not to be swayed by his confidence. He's looking at you so earnestly as he says it, it's almost like he knows he's right.

“Why don’t we do a little test?” He offers. “Does he wait to give coffee to other people in the morning?”

“No..”

“Does he ask other people about their articles?”

“Not that I know of?”

“Does he spend time with others during break or is it always just with you?”

You’re silent, feeling the racing of your heart. Superman smiles again, as if he already knows the answer you refuse to accept.

“I think you should have a talk with him.”

The moments you had with Clark flash through your mind. All the times he was so considerate with you, so passionate, and.. how you ended things today with him during your conversation. You didn't want to lose him, not when you had a chance to turn things around. “You know, Superman? Maybe you're right.”

The next day, after Superman graciously dropped you off at your apartment per your directions, you feel your anxiety clogged up in your throat as you wait for the office elevator. Your foot taps anxiously, wondering if you should truly take the advice given to you and confess to Clark.

Worse case scenario, you get rejected and have to face a lack of free morning coffees and interrogations for the rest of your career. That realisation does pummel your spirits down a little. You do like his interrogations, even if you had to be held at gunpoint to admit it.

You reach your floor, and step out with a chaotic choir shrieking in your chest, instinctively looking to your desk where Clark would usually be waiting with your coffee. Your heart seizes when you find no one there. Right, maybe this is a sign that your plan is bogus and you should come back to Earth, instead of listening to some metahuman’s love advice-

A call of your name interrupts your train wreck of thoughts. You turn around, and Clark is standing there with your coffee.. and a bouquet in hand.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be late.” He stammers. “Your favourite coffee spot was crowded today, and the florist was on the opposite side of town, and I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked.”

“Also, I’m really truly sorry about the other day.” It’s like he’s on a marathon but with words, spilling sentences out like he’s rehearsed them beforehand. “I didn’t mean to call your articles ‘cash-grabby’. You’re an amazing writer, probably the best I’ve ever met, and I don’t want you to feel insulted by my stupid comments-”

You step closer, ignoring his rant and place a kiss on his cheek, stopping him in his tracks. His lips are still parted midway through his sentence, only now, there’s no sound coming out from him.

“Thank you, Clark.” You replied, ignoring the shakiness of your hands. “And lilies are my favourite, so good guess.”

He swallows dryly, blinking like a morse code pattern as he tries to find something, anything to respond to you. “Well- Right. That’s good. Flowers are good.”

You laugh, taking the coffee from his hand to take a sip, mostly to ease your nerves from your impulsive action. The faint scent of coffee and peanut butter was still lingering in your mind from having been so close to him. “I have a new article on Superman." You brought up, trying to seem casual as you toy with the back of your chair. "I thought you would like to have a read.”

That seems to kick him back into his senses, his response arriving as soon as you stopped yours. “I would love to.”

You move the monitor to make the article visible to him. “I’ve come up with a few pointers, but I need help with the title. Do you want to.. work over it while getting lunch together?”

“Yes!” He exclaims, a grin so wide on his face it nearly splits it in two. “I mean, yeah." He shrugs, a light red coating his ears. "I would be glad to help out.”

You can’t help the grin that slips out when you see his, which is as infectious or even more so than Superman’s. Maybe Clark was right about Superman being more than the words you wrote about him in the past. Yet, it was the man in front of you now.. that held your heart.

a/n: I love him so much. The movie was so good, I was geeking the entire time. I have so many more fics I want to write for Clark, I can’t wait!