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pedritomosquito · 2 years ago

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All Choked Up (Ch 1)

MINORS DNI

Summary: You're shooting a fight scene with Pedro that involves choking--you know where this is going.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!Reader

Word count: ~4.1k

Content: SMUT, Minors DNI Blog, thigh riding, choking, handy, general steaminess

You had been called in for more shooting after working for a month on The Last of Us as various clickers. You were going to be doing another fight scene, but this time as your normal human self. Wardrobe had just finished with you and one of the PA’s was escorting you to set to be approved by Craig and Jeremy. It looked like they were in between takes of a scene with Joel and Ellie. Pedro and Bella were both sitting on set pieces, laughing and sipping at water.

Craig and Jeremy are crowded around a monitor with several other producers watching the latest take. The PA introduces you and suddenly all of them turn around, examining you. Craig greets you.

“Great to see you again! Thank you for joining us.”

You have to hold in a laugh, because ‘thank you for joining us’? As if you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into fucking LA traffic to be here?

“Thank you for having me,” you smile instead.

At the sound of your voice, you see Pedro perk up out of the corner of your eye. You pretend not to notice his gaze.

“This looks great,” Craig approves. “Can I see it without the scarf?”

The PA unties your neck gaiter.

“Yes, perfect,” He nods. “Thank you Jennifer,” He dismisses the PA and sends you on your way, “See you on set!”

Interesting costuming detail for Craig to be so particular about, but whatever. The PA starts to usher you back towards the wardrobe department.

You hear Bella call your name and you turn, giving them a happy wave. Pedro gives you a wave too.

“Tomorrow–You, me?”” You playfully point between him and yourself, “we’re squarin’ up!”

“No way!” Pedro replies, looking dare you say excited to hear the news that you’d be working together.

“See you at rehearsal!” You call as you slip out the door.

—--

The next day you have stunt choreography for the fight scene in the evening. You dress in a cute matching Lululemon knock off set and report to the rehearsal studio on the lot. The three stunt coordinators are there to greet you and you stretch out until Pedro arrives.

He’s in a tight workout t-shirt and gray sweatpants. Not the gray sweatpants dear LORD.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” one of the coordinators teases, “And ten minutes late, no less!”

“Fuck off, Phillip,” Pedro laughs as he approached, “I’m old and I’m tired.”

“That’s your excuse every day,” You prod.

“Well it’s true every day,” Pedro complains.

“Ready to beat the shit out of each other?” You smirk.

His laugh makes your stomach flip flop.

“Absolutely.”

The stunt coordinators demonstrate the choreography first and you have to make sure your jaw doesn’t hit the floor.

Your character stands yielding a prop knife and his character rushes at you, grabbing your arms. You struggle like that for a beat before the knife gets knocked out of your hands. He keeps his grip on one of your arms as he punches you across the face, then shoves you back up against the wall. Both of his hands come up to your neck and you fight against him until you pass out and he drops you on the floor.

You have always been on your best behavior around Pedro. The poor guy has women thirsting after him at every turn and you don’t want to add to his suffering. You have your own private thoughts about him–many of them not PG rated. But you are there to do a job, to be a professional. You never really allow yourself to entertain any of those thoughts beyond simple fantasy.

But he is about to choke you against a wall.

That alone has you entertaining several new thoughts.

“Alright, how do you guys feel about that?” Phillip asks.

Pedro just nods with a small “great.” He does this stuff pretty much every day so you’re sure none of it phases him.

Phillip looks to you and you must be a bit too wide eyed.

“You look a little uncomfortable,” Phillip notes kindly, inviting you to speak.

Pedro’s concerned expression knocks the wind out of you.

“No, no,” You assure them, “It just looks amazing and I’m hoping I wasn’t padding my resume when I said I had stage combat experience.” You give a little giggle to sell it and god bless being an actor because they all buy it.

“No worries, you definitely got this,” Phillip assures you.

Phillip had not been lying–you pick up the sequence just fine. When it comes time to run the fight with Pedro, you are feeling confident about the choreography but not much else. You mark through it, slowly going through each motion to practice.

You’re pretty sure you black out when he slides his hands under your chin. He is slow and careful and he barely even makes contact with your throat but just the idea, the notion that he could so easily, makes your insides scream.

He eyes you closely making sure you are okay. You feel safe. Somehow that makes it even worse.

You go through some notes and run it one more time slowly before kicking it up to full speed.

The intensity of doing it in real time causes an adrenaline storm. Pedro’s hands are all over you, all power and tight gripped. You desperately hold it together so you won't forget what you’re doing.

The way your back hits the padded wall forces the air from your lungs. Before you can even get a breath in, Pedro’s inches away from your face, hands around your neck. Heat spreads across your cheeks all the way down to your chest. You are sure the shock is written all over your face and you swear Pedro’s eyebrows furrow just a fraction. You take the moment of embarrassment as a good cue to drop to the floor out of his grip.

“That looked great!” Phillip approves, “How did that feel?”

You nearly choke on your spit at the question.

“Good,” you manage to squeak.

You catch Pedro side eyeing you and force yourself to look anywhere else. You bend over and fiddle with your shoelace out of sheer desperation to hide your face.

“Yeah,” Pedro echoes, “Good.”

You can hear the smile in his voice and want to leap out the window.

“Alright, let’s go full out this time,” Phillip says, “Add the acting, the drama, I want it all. Let’s take it from the line before so we can get the timing down.”

You and Pedro square up, getting into position.

“I’m not going down easy,” You play with a quirked eyebrow.

“Bring it,” He challenges.

You both slip into character and you raise your knife.

—-

“Great work, guys!” Phillip chimes, “See you on set tomorrow.”

“You drive here?” Pedro’s voice appears next to you.

“Yep,” You reply, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and pushing open the door. The cool night air glides a chill down your arms.

“Let me walk you to your car,” He offers, “ I just need to grab my stuff.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, that’d be—that’d be great,” You stumble over the words with a smile.

It’s a short walk to his trailer

“What’s been your favorite project you’ve worked on?” He asks.

“I always thought it couldn’t get any better than Mandalorian but honestly I think this show might be my new favorite.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, everything on this show feels so… real. Mando was all soundstages and green screens. Last of Us really feels like we’ve been dropped into an apocalypse,” You explain before cautiously adding, “And I’ve gotten to work with you a lot more.”

“You like working with me, huh?” Pedro asks as he playfully bumps his shoulder into yours, the shadow of a teasing tone in his voice.

You can’t find words for a moment, pausing with your mouth parted. You might as well put all your cards on the table. “Yes,” you finally reply with a small laugh, “I do.”

You can safely toe the boundary of friendship here. You figure he wouldn’t read into it if he wasn’t interested.

Wait. Are you interested? Oh fuck. Of course you’re interested.

Pedro pauses for a fraction of a moment as you arrive at the trailer, looking at you. Before you can say anything, he pulls open the door and holds it for you. You climb inside and he brushes past you as he enters.

“When you showed up here on set,” He says, “I was really happy to see you again.” He sits down on the cream colored loveseat.

So he isn’t just ‘grabbing his stuff’ after all, you guess.

You join him, trying to remember how to sit like a normal human being.

“I thought you were lying when you said you remembered me,” you reply honestly.

“God no,” Pedro chuckles. His gaze on you intensifies, flitting down your body for a moment, his voice dropping a bit lower. “Couldn’t forget you if I tried, sweetheart.”

You suck in a quiet breath. Your mind begins to swim in the suddenly thickening air. How has he managed to make himself so clear in just a single uttered sentence?

He seems to search your face. You realize he’s looking for reciprocation . This isn’t the time to toe the limit at all–it’s the time to cross the line entirely.

The line between colleagues is drawn for good reason, you try to remind yourself. But all logic dissolves in the simmering heat of how he watches you from the other end of the couch.

Fuck the line. What line? Never heard of one.

You switch on a new part of yourself, cocking your head.

“You aren’t too forgettable yourself,” You reply with a soft smirk, making sure to regard every inch of him.

That is all it takes from him to start closing the gap between you, stopping just inches away. He reaches out and slides your bag off your shoulder in slow motion. You stay frozen as it thuds to the floor. The way his eyes never leave you makes your breathing pick up.

“You can leave right now, I won’t hold it against you,” He says quietly, “We can go back to before and I will never try this again.”

You can’t imagine a worse fate. You shake your head desperately.

“Tell me you want this,” he says, eyes glued to yours.

“I want you ,” You whisper.

His lips easily find yours as you feel a hand lace into your hair and another around your waist. The softness of his lips makes you forget to set yourself into motion, too busy melting into it. You finally remember to reach for him, placing a hand on his chest and the other on the side of his neck. You splay your fingers over his bare skin, brushing a thumb against the stubble on his jaw.

His fingers graze over your scalp as he gently grips a handful of your hair. It makes your jaw fall open and he takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You grab a fistful of his shirt to pull him closer.

His hand travels up the center of your chest, curving over your collarbone and back down your side.

He is either being a tease or far too respectful.

You take his wrist and guide him to the bottom hem of your tank top, sliding his hand underneath until his fingers come to the elastic of your sports bra. You pull the spandex up out of the way.

His fingertips skate lightly over the bare skin before he cups you, rolling your nipple between his fingers.

You whine against his mouth, arching into his touch. Your head tips back and he kisses down your neck before returning to your mouth. His lips become more insistent, the pressure of his hands roaming your body more firm. You shift to pull your leg up under you on the couch, needing to get closer to him. He untangles his hand from your hair and does you one better, reaching down, grabbing your ass and pulling you into his lap until he has you hovering over him, his knee between yours.

You pull off your tank top and your sports bra.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Pedro murmurs breathlessly as he attaches his mouth to your nipple.

“Fuck,” The word punches out of you and your hands fly into his hair. His mouth is all heat, tongue working in circles and flicks. You imagine his face between your legs doing the same and you shudder at the mere thought.

He grabs your hips and speaks against the skin of your chest.

“Sit.”

He pulls you down firmly onto his thigh.

“Good girl.”

A gasp helplessly escapes your lips and he has you all figured out. He fails to suppress a smirk and you have half the mind to admonish him, but any attempt is interrupted by his mouth returning to your tit.

He guides your hips to grind against him. The feeling of your wet leggings sliding over his sweatpants drags against your clit just right. You whimper against his temple. He tugs your hips forward again as he flexes his thigh into you and your whimper becomes open mouthed, a moan buried in his hair.

Your hips start to roll on their own accord, chasing down the friction.

“That’s it,” He says softly, licking up your chest, “Make yourself feel good, pretty girl.”

You let out a stilted sigh, dropping your head and sucking the skin beneath his jaw. You reach your hand down and press over the crotch of his sweats. You inhale sharply when you feel him already hard underneath your palm.

“You know how hard it was to control myself, hm?” He questions, voice strained as he pushes himself up against your hand, “Keeping everyone from seeing how much I loved having you pinned up against that wall?”

“ God , that was good acting,” you moan.

“Yours needs some work,” he taunts, “‘Could see it all over your face, querida. Bet you were wet for me, weren’t you?”

“Whole time,” you nod desperately.

He drags his fingers up your chest and wraps his hand around your throat.

“Oh fuck,” tumbles from your mouth.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart? My hand wrapped around your throat like this?”

“Yes,” you whimper. “Fuck, keep talking,” you beg, moving faster in his lap.

“You like the sound of my voice, huh?” He prods, “Like it when I tell you how good you are while you fuck yourself on my thigh?”

You only nod with a whine, reaching under his waistband and taking his cock in your hand. You nearly whine again when you feel how thick he is.

“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening just a bit around your throat.

The squeak he receives from you in response is equal parts innocent and filthy.

He uses his free hand to shove his pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his cock in your fist.

You pump him slowly, watching the precum leak from his slit. You release him, pausing your own movement to dip your hand into your panties. You slide two fingers into yourself, gathering your wetness, and return to his length.

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, his words trapped in the back of his throat as you wrap your slick hand around him. His hand tightens on your neck and he thrusts up into your hand, jolting you back into your own rhythm.

Your free hand is slipped under the neckline of his shirt, placed on his chest to steady yourself. The skin there is firm and radiating heat. You can feel his heart beating as fast as yours against your palm.

“You gonna cum like this?” He asks, “Such a needy girl, making a mess on my thigh?”

“Yes, fuck, yes, god yes,” you babble. You’d say yes to practically anything he could ask of you right now, anything to stay in this moment.

Every word he speaks, every shift in his touch drives your fist around him faster.

“ Fuck you feel so good,” He says through gritted teeth, hand now trailing down your throat, curling his fingers to skim his nails over your delicate skin, “Doing so good for me.”

“Please, please, Pedro–” you blindly plead.

He squeezes his hand, tightening the grip on your neck. It’s hardly enough to affect your breathing, but it fuels the tension growing in your hips all the same. Your motions begin to stutter.

“That’s it, querida,” He hums, “That’s it.”

“I’m gonna–” your stutter, “I’m gonna cum.”

He presses the pad of his thumb against your clit and every bit of air deserts your lungs.

“I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

Pure heat sparks and sets you ablaze, flames rolling down your body as you cum, cries forced from you.

“ Good girl , there it is. That’s a good girl,” He grinds out the words, pushing himself harder up into your fist. “Fuck, that’s it, fuck ,” A strangled noise catches in his throat, stripes of white painting your hand and his shirt as you ride out your high.

You lean forward to collapse against him, pressing your head to his shoulder, and you both try to catch your breath. He wraps his arms around you, fingers absently tracing over you back.

“Thank you,” you sigh.

“ Thank you ?” He nearly giggles, “Jesus Christ, all I did was sit here!”

“Then you’re welcome,” you breathe, “Like, very, incredibly, definitely welcome literally any time.”

His laughter bounces against your chest.

“Don’t go making offers that are too good to be true, now,” he warns, and you can feel his grin against the side of your neck, “I can’t take the heartbreak.”

So you’re not the only one who wants this to be more than a one time thing. Fuck yeah.

“Any. Time.” You repeat, whispering in his ear.

——-

Coco is setting up her station next to Stephanie and Jess for the afternoon. The hair and make up department is an integral part of The Last of Us because of the extensive clicker-fication process. Coco always jokes with Pedro that she has the easiest job out of everyone–make a man, who is already gorgeous, gorgeous. Not much to do there, just upkeep on Pedro’s gray hair and ensuring he’s grimy enough for an apocalypse.

You walk into the room bundled in a scarf and find Jess’s chair, greeting her. You had never met before and you were a little nervous. Coco, on the other hand, you’d talked to a few times.

“Okay, so, I might have screwed up a little ,” You admit to Jess, immediately piquing the curiosity of the women around you. You were about to make Jess’s job a bit harder.

“Oh?” Jess says.

“So, um, I get uh–strangled, in the scene we’re shooting today so there’s going to be a lot of focus on… my neck…” You preface hesitantly.

Coco whirls around.

“You didn’t,” She gasps, scandalized.

You grimace apologetically as you unwrap your scarf.

“I did.”

There’s no way they could possibly know that Pedro put the hickey blooming dark purple on your throat unless they’re mind readers, but still. You’re paranoid that somehow everyone will know what you did last night with Pedro.

Could see it all over your face, querida.

“You have girl bossed too close to the sun,” Coco shakes her head while Jess and Stephanie giggle.

You cover your face with your hands.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jess laughs, “You’re hardly the first actor to need some hickey cover up. Happens all the time–we’ll get you fixed up.”

Jess does an excellent job as promised and your neck looks pristine.

You thank her endlessly and slip out the door to go to wardrobe.

Just a moment later, Pedro speeds into hair and make-up, greeting Coco and plopping down in her chair.

“I need a bruise covered up,” he says simply.

“How’d you hurt yourself this time, old man?” Coco asks.

“Uh, it’s not exactly that kind of bruise,” he replies sheepishly. He pulls down the turtle neck he’s wearing, revealing the hickeys he’s sporting up his neck.

Coco, Stephanie and Jess all exchange a look. Stephanie is desperately trying to suppress a smirk and Jess has to turn away to contain herself.

You and Pedro are none the wiser that you’re totally busted.

“ Pedro ,” Coco scolds him playfully.

“I know, I know,” he sighs.

“Pass me that concealer, Jess?” Coco asks, “We’d better get started. This might take a while since someone decided to sell his body last night.”

“Oh shut up,” Pedro waved her off with a bashful chuckle, “Vete a la chingada.”

“Pedge, I’m immune to your spanish insults. I don’t speak Spanish.”

“Allow me to translate: fuck. off.”

“Never.”

—————-

You're sitting on the sidelines of the set, absently going over your script and blocking.

“Hello you,” a low voice rings next to you.

A smile climbs onto your lips and you keep your attention on the pages.

“Fancy meeting you here,” you chime.

“Come here often?”

You giggle, finally looking up at him, but your breath is stolen. God , he looked so good as Joel.

“Querida, your face,” he chuckles, “we talked about this.”

You pause for a moment and realize what he’s implying. You must be blushing. Or drooling.

“I have no idea how I have an acting career,” you murmur.

He’s laughing and you can’t help but be reminded of a ray of light. He’s like a bright beam, reflected and refracted into a spectrum of color, streaking boldly across a sunlit room. Maybe you didn’t understand how someone could be ‘beaming’ until now.

He looks like he almost starts to reach out to touch you, maybe tuck a stray hair behind your ear or place a hand on your waist, but he aborts the movement.

Phillip approaches you and you break from your trance.

“Hey guys!” He greets, “how about a quick dry run fight before shooting?”

“Sounds good,” Pedro nods as you agree.

Someone from the props department appears with your fake knife and you thank them.

You do a slow motion run through, making sure the spacing and blocking is perfected for the set pieces around you.

The full speed run is just as intense as the first time you had tried it the night before. You’re panting on the floor by the end, and Pedro extends a hand to help you to your feet. You look up at him from underneath the fan of your lashes and he stares down at you all the same.

“Alright you definitely have the choreography down!” Phillip sings his praises and declares you both ready for filming.

“We’re going to start shooting in just a minute here,” Craig informs the room.

Jess is there, coming over to touch up your make up one last time and the guy from props reappears, returning the discarded knife back to you.

“You and Pedro have us sharing the good setting powder,” Jess laughs to herself, taking some onto her brush before Coco steals the container with a smile as she passes by.

It hits you all at once.

You left hickeys all over Pedro last night, didn’t you? You look over and see Coco brushing the powder over the side of his throat.

“ Jess, ” Your eyes are blown wide.

She pauses, regarding you with confusion for a moment until the realization appears on her face.

“Oh! Don’t worry, we’ll never tell. Makeup artists take an oath of secrecy,” She explains. “ However ,” She adds, “I am living vicariously through you. Just full transparency.”

“Fair,” you reply a bit distantly, still watching Pedro.

—-

Coco goes over to Pedro and starts on her final touch ups.

“You know,” she says quietly after a moment, “The weirdest thing happened earlier.”

“Yeah?” Pedro asks, suspicious of her playful tone.

“Yeah,” she replies, “A minute before you came in asking us to cover up your hickeys, your scene partner came in needing the same thing.”

“That is… quite a coincidence…” He agreed slowly.

“I’m glad one of us had sexcapades last night,” she assured him, “all I did was watch tv.”

“Please never say ‘sexcapade’ ever again,” Pedro muttered.

“Look, if you’re going for subtlety–tone it down,” She advises, “You look like you’re about to jump each other’s bones, not kill each other.”

“Fuck, it’s that obvious?” He asks.

She just replies with raised eyebrows and a smirk. “But–hey,” she says sincerely, “Good for you, Pedge. You deserve it.”

“Stop–” He swats her away with an embarrassed smile, “Making me blush. Joel doesn’t blush.”

“Go get ‘em tiger,” She pats him on the back before leaving.

A/N: Tell me what you liked most! I wanna know what my beloved slutty lil readers enjoy!

Chapter 2

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hbo the last of us #pedro pascal smut #fanfiction #tlou

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mattscoquette · 11 days ago

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‘25 goals and ‘24 recap ♡ ୨୧ ࣪ ˖

while everyone is so focused on achievements and goals for the new year, i think it’s important to look back at what impactful things you did this year. this is a list of my most memorable moments within the last year, and my goals for the next. feel free too reblog with yours :)

— this was truly a year for the books. although i struggled with my mental health a lot, alongside other things in my personal life, i still think this year was good for me as a person and i learned a lot about myself. this is (in no particular order) some things i did this year that i think are worth mentioning.

౨ৎ started my fitness journey - i was in the gym five days a week for the longest period ever in my life. i learned to portion my food and began to eat cleaner and looked and felt the best i ever had in YEARS. as someone who struggled for a long time with self image and discipline, this was very healing for me.

౨ৎ i lost a few friends, but i made SO many new ones on here.

౨ৎ started journaling. i wrote about my day and what i was feeling. i found that having some sort of outlet really helped me with my anxiety.

౨ৎ picked up a long lost love for writing. i started to upload my work onto a platform for the first time in five years.

౨ৎ made my first big girl purchase and bought my dream car.

౨ৎ really found out my style and aesthetic. the clothes i like, the styles, colors, etc., after struggling with it for a long time.

౨ৎ developed and grew my blog to what it is today. coming on here is such an outlet for me, and i can’t thank you all enough. i know i’m just a blog on this app, but i seriously take every compliment and kind word to heart. even the smallest compliments will make my day. this year was hard on me, but everyone on this app made it so much better. i love all the love i get on here, i couldn’t be more thankful 🤍🤍 i seriously love eveyone on here so much.

special shoutout to @55sturn @sweetangelgirl7 @sirenedeslily @mattybsgroupie @freshloveee @pip4444chris @secretlocket @chrisweetheart @luverboychris @bernardsbendystraws @mattsdolll @cvnntagious + all of my mutuals ❣︎ i truly appreciate and love every one of you, i love talking with u guys so much. u make this app so fun <3

— it’s somewhat cheesy to have the “new year, new me” mindset, but i really think the start of a new year is a great way to clean the slate. they seem to go by fast, but one year can change so much. these are my goals for the new year.

౨ৎ exercise (4-5 days a week)

౨ৎ eat healthy and be mindful about food

౨ৎ ace all classes for both spring & fall semesters

౨ৎ figure out where i’m transferring to after my two year school

౨ৎ new job as a server / waitress

౨ৎ make and save lots of money

౨ৎ wardrobe and closet makeover

౨ৎ long healthy hair, white teeth

౨ৎ stop drinking soda , make coffee at home

౨ৎ get more into self care

౨ৎ listen to more music and new artists , explore albums and songs i don’t know of artists i currently like

౨ৎ write more often , try not to hold myself to a standard or a ridiculously high expectation

౨ৎ be kind to myself

all in all, i’m very excited to see what the new year brings, but sad to see this one go. this year was one i don’t think i’ll ever forget. i grew so much, and i really tend to forget that at time, as does everyone. you’re so focused on the road ahead of you, you forget to look back and see how far you’ve come. no matter what you do in your life, remember to be kind to yourself and don’t give up because you deserve to live the best life you can. i hope everyone has a very happy and healthy new year !!! i love you all <3

#⋆˚࿔ rylee yaps .ᐟ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆#this post is so tumblr aesthetic i love it actually #bye bye 2024 #helloooooo 2025

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would-this-pokemon-be-a-friend · 2 months ago

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Back from the dead...

Hello, everyone! I know its been a loooong while. I'd like to extend an apology to all of you for going MIA for the last few months, as well as a welcome to all the new followers who have found this blog in those few months. As I alluded to way back at the beginning of the year, I got a new job in my real life, and it threw my work-life balance into disarray!

Thankfully, I think I am finally in a place where I can revive this blog (and good thing too, since I've got so many of your requests to fulfill). To those of you who are still following, thanks for sticking around. I'm working on my first regular post right after I post this one, which I should be able to get up tonight. The plan is to go back to AT LEAST one post a week, but aiming more for three or four. Who knows, maybe someday I'll get back up to every-other-day. Anyways, I'd better get to it. I'm happy to be back.

P.S. As a reminder, here's the google doc with links to all of the posts I've done in the past, in case you want to find any particular posts I've done in the past:

P.S.S. Has anyone been playing Pokémon TCG Pocket? I think its pretty neat. Feel free to share friend codes in the comments of this post, if you want. I'd love to see your cool cards!

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waxingrunes · 1 year ago

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I understand if you’re too busy to answer this or don’t want to, but i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us some of your non-explicit headcanons or just some traits you think wolfstar have in general? Your explicit ones are sososo hot but today I'm feeling low and need some comforting. Yiur blog is just a safe space for me but I totally understand if not! I love your work <3 all my love x

There are so many nondescript hc’s I have that this has the potential to turn into a formal essay with cited sources, so I’ll go for more of a generalised dump of info I have for each in a hope that it lifts some of your fog Anon. Maybe bullet pointed because it’ll be easier to read than my usual untidy form of communication. Hope you feel lighter soon.

Sirius

• will lick a yoghurt pot if there’s no clean spoons. There’s the option to go for fruit instead, but he wants the yoghurt and by god he will get his yoghurt

• is a fucking terrible driver, gives Remus and any passenger white knuckles due to speed issues and not using a lower gear when taking corners

• is however, in complete control when on a motorcycle; very hot, very controlled and will take his passenger’s safety very seriously

• professionally trained in ballroom and ballet, the latter which he is sometimes mocked in jest for, even by Remus, until he one time caught him stretching elegantly on the floor one morning with his upper body laid flat between long, toned, wide spread legs, ‘morning moony’, a healthy blush on his cheeks

• private crier, doesn’t cry easily

• goes quiet when angry as an initial defence but it doesn’t take long for him to start dropping breadcrumbs of sarcastic comments; can also be snobby and bratty, perhaps sometimes will get nasty and direct (bringing up things he shouldn’t to score points in the heat of the moment)

• suffers immeasurable guilt (helped by the point above) but is always masking a weighted feeling of guilt no matter what he’s doing, so much so it’s manifested into quite a serious anxiety problem in the wrong crowds

• he fidgets a lot, not in a chaotic way, just always has to have his fingers busy with something

• likes the smell of gasoline

• once had to talk himself down from throwing a child in a dustbin

• loves the colour red; blood red and cherry red to be precise but secretly loves dark blue even more because it’s what looks most handsome on Remus despite him not wearing it often

• sighs a lot

• pretended he couldn’t speak English to get away with jumping a queue

• hates the smell and taste of liquorice (unless heavily strawberry/cherry/raspberry flavoured)

• on one particular messy night out he got so impatient waiting at the bar, he reached over and grabbed a discarded bottle of alcohol the server had left open and swigged it

• digs his nails into his skin when anxious and is often reminded to relax the tension in his joints

• stargazes often

• once linked his pinky finger with Remus and asked him to pinky promise not to tell anyone what he was about to tell him, since which a tradition of trust was born where Remus will offer his pinky or the last two fingers for Sirius to hold or squeeze when he’s feeling unsure in public, or in any situation where verbal reassurance isn’t appropriate

• gets a weird thrill at the sound of cork popping from a bottle

Remus

• collects beer mats and keeps them in a drawer, thinks about making them into a display

• got tired of kids playing ball against the wall of his place (after repeat offences and him asking very nicely for them to stop) one day so went out, retrieved the ball and threw it so hard against of the cars it set the alarm off

• owner of said car came running out the house and Remus blamed it on the children. Never had the same issue again

• has a wildly sweet tooth and will always drop one or two packets of sugar into any warm beverage

• stares into space and gets involuntarily caught on someone’s face one too many times which makes them uncomfortable from the ‘Death Stare’ phenomenon when in reality, he’s lost in lala land

• can cook, is actually a proficient cook, but will not cook for anyone but Sirius, James or Lily

• will crack his knuckles, wrists and neck absentmindedly, all of which makes his company squirm because it’s often very loud and ‘pop-py’ but Sirius fucking loves it

• stays very calm during an argument but can shout louder than most and when he does, ears ring from the silence that follows

• prefers tea over coffee

• will eat liquorice any time he wants to piss Sirius off

• cries more than Sirius, but still a private crier

• always has to be the old boot in Monopoly

• loves words that are vowel heavy or double voweled because those are the ones where the scraps of Sirius’ lost French accent surface the most

• has a gentle touch, is aware of his size and nature of his lycanthropy, therefore always somewhat reserved

• loves socks, has a collection of ‘dad socks’

• has the messiest writing out of all the Marauders but loves handwritten things, owns three very different fountain pens for very different purposes

• is polite, but as he’s aged doesn’t tend to ‘fake smile’ a lot, feeling no need to fill uncomfortable silences for the sake of others

• has a chair he favours and often dozes off in it. Most of the time waking up to Sirius on top of him

#ask #wolfstar #might tag this properly #remus lupin #sirius black #remus #sirius

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grandlinedreams · 1 year ago

Note

Your blog is the highlight of my day, I'm really impressed <3

Could you maybe write something more about what happened after that oneshot where the reader wants to stay up with law but falls asleep while doing it and then law laying in bed with them?

I love the slow burn that is happening there

Aah, thank-you!! I do my best and I'm just glad my hyperfixation has an audience that enjoys it ehe 💖 but absolutely!! I hope that this is to your liking!! I also couldn't help myself w adding the 'it's rotten work' 'not to me. Not if it's you'

[In reference to this]

[Heads up!: mutual pining, some angst, hurt/comfort]

There are three reasons you know that you're not in your own bed when you wake up. One, you're warmer than you ever are, blanket usually kicked off of you in some way or another. The second that there are no sounds of the bunkhouse ㅡ no soft snores or sleepy murmurs, the creak of someone moving in their sleep. And the third?

That Law is asleep right next to you.

It takes a minute to register, your cheeks warming. You'd fallen asleep despite trying your best not to, you know that much ㅡ and that for whatever reason, Law had seen fit to simply let you sleep in his bed.

It's inappropriate, you know. A severe breach of what should be between captain and crewmate ㅡ but staring at him, all you can think of is what could be.

You let yourself admire him for a little longer before you turn your attention to getting up, knowing that your other crewmates will be moving around soon and the last thing you need is them assuming things if you wait too long to come out of Law's room.

You're not sure how you manage to get free without disturbing Law but you do, glancing towards the mugs you'd brought in with you and move to collect them.

"Thanks for the tea last night." Law's voice makes you jolt, barely avoiding dropping one of the mugs as you turn to find him sitting up and watching you.

"Oh," you say, "right, no problem." Curse your wretched heart for doing gymnastics at how cute he is, hair sleep-mussed and expression drowsy. It sharpens, however, as his gaze flicks over you and then to the door.

"About this," he begins, "we won't be making a habit of this. It's for the best if this never happens again."

Your heart sinks. You know that it's for the best, that the idea of entertaining anything but is only going to hurt ㅡ and hurt it does, twisting a proverbial knife into your chest.

There's the rising want to cry, one that you shove down as deep as you can, shoving down your feelings.

"Yes," you say, now heading for the door with the tray and things in hand. "You're absolutely right. It's for the best."

ㅡ

You take to avoiding him. You make it an art ㅡ not so much so as to make it obvious that it's him that you're avoiding in particular, but enough to make it plausible as to why you're never around him.

And it's driving Law crazy. The Polar Tang is only so big, there are only so many places you can duck into before he notices, so many people you can so conveniently manage to be deep in conversation with when he passes, indifferent to his presence ㅡ but you still manage it.

It's frustrating, too. He knows that he hurt you with what he said, a proverbial slap to the face of your kindness, your efforts to put him at ease. He also isn't dumb, he's noticed your lingering looks, the previous excuses to be around him.

Were he someone else, he'd let you know that he reciprocates your feelings. Even as he is, he knows he does ㅡ but he can't act on it. He won't drag you down with him when it all inevitably blows up in his face, won't force you to suffer the same fate as him. You deserve more, and you deserve better.

But your behavior still hurts. The things that you do are made the clearer in the absence them, and he misses them. He misses you.

There's only so much that Law can take of this new routine that you've slipped into ㅡ which is why he comes up with a plan.

ㅡ

Avoiding Law is getting exhausting. Quite literally, as you've gotten into the routine of waiting until almost everyone has retired for the night, him included. It's childish yes, but you're determined to do it until your feelings for him ebb enough that you can go back to the way you were ㅡ as unlikely as that is.

Stifling a yawn, you trudge towards the bunkhouse, intent on getting as good of sleep as you can, only to have a hand curl around your upper arm and yank you away before you can react. You're dragged into a different room and when the door shuts, you wheel on your pseudo-kidnapper.

"What is your problem?"

Unbothered by your tone, Law simply stares at you, expression unreadable. "I need to talk to you."

You frown. "So talk to me like a normal person, not kidnap me."

"I didn't kidnap you," Law counters, "and it's hard to talk to someone when they're avoiding you."

You want to lie and say that you haven't been, but the look Law gives you makes you quiet before you realizes where you are.

His room. Again.

"Look. I realize that how I said things the other day wasn't the best way to put it." Law rubs his neck, trying to find the best way to articulate his words.

Figuring that it'll be easier to sever whatever you have with him all together now rather than continue to suffer, you look up and speak with a steadiness that surprises you. "I love you."

Law's eyes snap to yours, elation and dread clashing. "You can't." Before you can protest, he continues. "Not only am I your captain, but we're pirates. We don't have time for things like this, and I don't have time to entertain how you think you feelㅡ"

"How I think I feel?" Your tone is calm. "Last time I checked, I'm the one who should know best how I feel, Law." He opens his mouth, and you hold a hand up to silence him. "I'm not going to deign the rest of that with a response, because we both know that's bullshit." You pause. "Well, besides the part about you being my captain. You are, and I love you. I'm not expecting you to love me back."

A muscle in his jaw jumps. "You shouldn't."

"I know."

He steps towards you, reaching to tug you to him. "That's dangerous."

You press into him. "I know that too. We're pirates, remember? Danger is our middle name."

His arms wind around you, hand cradling the back of your head. "It's rotten work," he whispers, thinking of Corazon and his parents, his sister. "Loving me."

"Not to me," comes your response, muffled into his chest, the steady thump that your own echoes. You pretend not to notice that it's beating as hard as yours is. "Not if it's you."

Law feels something in him crack, splintering into glittering spiderweb fissures. "You're staying here tonight," he says, feels the shudder of your laughter against him.

"Is that an order, captain?"

"Yes."

ㅡ

Blankets over you both, Law still allows himself to reach for you, let your legs tangle with his, lose the dark tattoos of his knuckles in your hair. "Say it again."

You don't need to ask what he means, kissing the front of his shoulder. "I love you."

His lips brush the top of your head. "Again."

"I love you."

He kisses your forehead. "Again."

"I love you."

By the time Law kisses you properly, he thinks you'll get tired of saying it, because he can't say it back. Not yet. But the way you kiss him back says that you do, and that you don't mind.

You're patient, and you can wait.

#ㅡmine.#one piece x reader #one piece scenario #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #ㅡanswered.#–ml: law.

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photo1030 · 2 years ago

Text

Leather and Lace - Chapter 15: Feelings Revealed

PART 1 - I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU

Summary: You finally confront Arthur about how you feel about him, and force him to make a decision, whether you are ready for the answer or not.

*This is a long one and will be broken up into multiple parts.

*Special thanks to the wonderfully talented @rivetingrosie4 for beta reading this for me.

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

**This exquisite image comes from @kmartkiddieisle

Tag List: @rivetingrosie4 @bimbo-dollz @pine4pple-b0i @redwritr @kuri-chans-blog @queer-sadie-adler @joelmillerswifey @gimmethosedaddymilkers @pcotarelo @delilah-grimes @maemortem @wistfulwisteriawitch @lilacxxdreams @plumbeeb @mentallyillfrogs @absolutegeek @spurz @sophiaj650 @uniqueclodzinevoid @lookingformaurice @pawoui @randomidk-123 @yyiikes @eddiemetalheadmunson @twola

*I tagged people who expressed interest in the continued story. If you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know.

Arthur isn’t sure how it happened. He let his guard down, that’s for damn sure. Some bounty hunter had recognized him when you and Arthur were in Ourey last week. He had a tip that Arthur was in the area, but not sure exactly where. And as luck would have it, the hunter was in the saloon for a drink when he just happened to glance over his shoulder and see the very man he was looking for sitting at a table in the corner with a lady, chatting away without worry, like the world wasn't on his back.

Earlier this morning, Josiah Trelawny had come to the camp, asking if you could tend to one of the locals in need of medical attention. There still aren't too many doctors in this area, and this particular fellow is a friend of Josiah's. Dutch agreed to let you go, as long as you got paid for your trouble, of course. And, naturally, Arthur insisted that he be your escort.

After the two of you had made a brief stop in town for needed medical supplies, this bounty hunter spotted Arthur again. He followed the two of you at a distance, careful to not let Arthur catch on that he was being followed. The hunter patiently lingered in the woods that lined the house while you two tended to the sick individual. And once you had left the homestead, he tailed you and Arthur, waiting for the opportunity to take down one, Arthur Morgan.

And now, this bounty hunter has you as his hostage.

The clouds in the sky dance playfully around the sun, alternating sunlight and shadows upon the Earth's surface below as the three of you stand in the clearing. The bounty hunter pulls you tight against him as your hands clutch at his forearm, which has a vice-grip around your shoulders. He holds a well-used revolver to your head with the other. His hot breath carries across your neck and stinks of tooth-rot as his face hovers close to yours. You can feel his torso and hips dig into your backside and it makes your skin just crawl with repulsion.

But the hunter is not focused on you. He stares past your shoulder at the man who is his main target. A sneer of superiority crosses the hunter's lips, exposing his blackened and snaggled teeth. He triumphantly displays his upper hand to Arthur, elated that he has discovered the notorious outlaw's weakness. You.

You watch Arthur's expression turn from surprise at being snuck up on, to one of outrage. His jaw clenches, and you can see the muscles of his face twitch as he grits his teeth together. His beautiful blue eyes, always a beacon for you to stare into, have turned hard and icy gray. Arthur's shoulders square and set, seeming to add another few inches to his already intimidating stature. Although you have heard of how menacing Arthur Morgan can be, you have rarely seen it yourself in person. And it is a terrifying thing to witness. In fact, the last time you saw him this angry was the day the two of you met. And unfortunately, it was a similar scenario then, as well.

"Let her go," Arthur grits out in a low, calm voice. "She ain’t got nothing to do with this."

But the bounty hunter only laughs at Arthur's request, as if it is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. "Since when do you give a damn about anyone else, Morgan? Hmmm?" And then the hunter's face changes to an exaggeratedly surprised expression as if he just had a profound realization. "Oooo, wait a minute now. You like this one, don’t you, Morgan?" He turns his face into yours just slightly, but keeps his steely eyes trained on Arthur. "I can see why. She’s real nice." He begins to rub his face along yours, taunting Arthur. "Nice and soft. Skin so pretty. It'd be a real shame if something were to happen to this face." His hand creeps up to cup under your chin, pulling your head back to him even tighter as he shoves the barrel of his gun harder into your temple, causing a quick and soft gasp to escape your dry lips.

Arthur's face contorts just slightly, breaking his cold exterior for just a fraction of a second. And in doing so, it reveals to the hunter that he has indeed hit a nerve, causing a smug smile to dance across his mouth.

"You best get your damn grimy hands off of her," Arthur threatens, his voice almost a growl now and his hands balling into fists of rage. "I ain't gonna tell you again." Arthur's warning sends shivers down your spine as you hear the words drop from his lips. His movements and tone are so slow and deliberate, with a menacing air that radiates off of his body so acutely that you almost do not recognize the man standing in front of you.

The bounty hunter just grins horribly and opens his mouth to drag his tongue along your cheek, further provoking Arthur. The act makes you close your eyes and whimper in disgust. You slowly open your eyes again and keep them on Arthur, not wavering from his gaze. You don’t cry or beg while being held by this pig, but remain perfectly still. The only thing that betrays your anxiety is how your body trembles ever so slightly from your broken breathing.

Arthur can clearly see the fear in your wide eyes. It makes him angry--both at this man, and at himself, for putting you in this situation. He will kill this man for his transgression. There is no doubt about that. It's not as if Arthur likes killing. But he has killed men for far less noble reasons than protecting you. So it stands to reason that this man's end is most certainly inevitable now.

As you stand there with the cold metal of a gun barrel digging into your temple, and with this horrible man pressed against you, you suddenly realize that the reason you are afraid is not so much that you could die right now, but that you could die without Arthur knowing that you love him. Before this moment, you have never divulged your heart's secret to him. And now, you may never get a chance to. You may never hold him or to ever know what it is like to properly kiss him. And worse yet, you'd never know if Arthur ever felt the same about you in return.

As the two men stare each other down, the air goes very still—as quiet as a cemetery at night. You can see Arthur's muscles tense like a spring ready to snap. Your chest begins to heave, drawing air into your lungs much faster now. Your heart races with anticipation. You watch Arthur like a hawk, your gaze never wavering from his. And then you see it. You see Arthur's eyes cast down ever so slightly. The hunter doesn't even notice, but you do. And your eyes go even wider with the recognition of it. It's a clear signal of which direction you will need to move.

Faster than what seems humanly possible, Arthur's body explodes into motion, pulling his gun from its holster. The mere second you see his muscles twitch, you let your body go absolutely limp like a wet string in the hunter's grasp. You slip through the man’s arms and drop down to his feet, crumpling hard to the ground. You cover your head with your hands and your knee knocks into your jaw as you curl into a ball as tightly as possible.

Three gunshots crack loudly through the air, echoing off of the treeline and ringing in your ears. You hear a loud, wet thud next to you, thick and heavy as a body hits the dirt. You are hesitant to look up, but you quickly realize that it can't be Arthur. The sound is too close in proximity to you to be him. You slowly lift your head and look over to see the bounty hunter lying motionless next to you. His eyes are wide open and still carrying the look of shock in them. You take quick note of the red weeping holes in his chest. Of the three shots that rang out, two were fired by Arthur, both hitting the hunter with deadly accuracy, with the third shot being a feeble attempt by the hunter to squeeze off a hit before bullets tore through his chest and he slumped to the ground.

But it is silent once again, now. The only sound you hear is your own heavy, terrified breathing as the smell of gunpowder lingers in the air. You stare at the dead man, confirming that he will not be a threat to you any longer. Speechless, you then turn your wide and shining eyes up at Arthur, still trying to catch your breath. Arthur stands perfectly still, a calm now settling over him. This is not a new sight for him, but one that he has been forced to pursue repeatedly. While you are sitting in the dirt, stunned, Arthur seems unphased by the dead body lying ungracefully in a heap on the ground. Sighing, he holsters his gun and slowly walks over to you.

Arthur looks down at you, tilting his head slightly. "You ok?" His voice is soft and concerned. You can only nod silently as he extends his hand down to help you stand.

You place your trembling hand into his much larger one. And in this very moment, the strength that you find there provides a comfort to you that you could not have possibly imagined. His other hand slides under your elbow, providing extra support as he carefully assists you to stand, checking that you have not been harmed in any way.

Once you've come to your feet, you suddenly launch yourself into Arthur's chest, throwing your arms tightly around his neck before he can stop you. For you, it is the safest place to be right now. Your eyes screw shut as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, your arms encircling his shoulders as you cling to him tightly. And instead of recoiling, Arthur evenly returns the gesture. A flood of relief washes over him, now that you are safe in his arms. You feel his strong arms circle around your waist and back, holding you securely to his broad chest as his chin drops to hover above your shoulder, his cheek pressed into your hair.

You still have yet to cry, but you are trembling terribly. And he holds you even closer, his hand sliding up to cradle your head now, in an effort to soothe your shaking. "It's alright," his voice floats from his lips as they hover next to your ear. "I got ya, girl. I always got you."

The two of you stay this way for several minutes, not another word spoken. You feel the nervous energy drain from you as Arthur holds you to him. His body pulls it from you and replaces it with his own body heat. Finally, you pull back from him and you gaze into each other's eyes. Your lids flutter at the wave of love you feel for him. Your gaze floats from his vividly blue eyes to his lips. You want so desperately to kiss him.

Arthur's breathing hitches slightly as he notices your chest beginning to float up and down as your heart rate speeds up at the thought of it. He catches you studying his face, your eyes lingering on his mouth. Your hands begin to slide from behind his neck, and across the plane of his shoulders, before gliding down along his arms. Your hands grasp slightly at the bulk of the muscles they find there as they travel. And suddenly, your fingers feel something wet. The quick change in sensation yanks you from your romantic reverie. You look away from his face and down to where your right hand lingers on his bicep and see bright crimson red seeping through the fabric of his green shirt.

"Your arm!" you gasp softly, blinking the fog away from your mind. The sight of Arthur's blood sharply startles you and quickly pulls your mind out of the clouds.

Confused, Arthur stares at you for a moment, not even paying attention to what you're saying, before looking down at himself. He sees the blood on his shirt from where the hunter's stray bullet cut across his arm, but quickly dismisses it. "It’s just a graze, I’m alright." He gives you a weak smile.

"We need to wrap this," you stutter, trying to collect your thoughts and pull yourself together. Looking around for your horse, you whistle for Blue as Arthur has taught you. The horse picks his head up at the sound and quickly comes trotting over to you from the bushes where he's been grazing. You hurry to get bandages out of your saddle bag and begin to wrap the cotton around Arthur's arm to quell the bleeding. Arthur says nothing, but simply watches your every move as you work. A grin pulls at his lips as he watches how you fuss over him, amused at how your attention has been drastically redirected. His eyes cascade from your beautiful hair, now a disheveled mess, and over your face before settling to your hands and delicate fingers, now painted red with his blood.

Suddenly, off in the distance, you begin to hear voices and hoofbeats. Arthur's head snaps up to attention, his eyes narrowing as he tries to focus on the direction it’s coming from. It could be colleagues of the bounty hunter, or it could simply be passers-by. But either way, the two of you should not be found with a dead man. As you tie-off the bandage around his bicep, Arthur sets his hands on both of your arms in urgency. "C'mon, we need to get out of here."

-------------------------------------

Thankfully, you and Arthur make it back to camp with no more distractions after that. Once you arrive home, you quickly pull Arthur to your med tent to stitch up the gash in his arm from the bullet graze. With that properly taken care of, you split up and head to your own tents to get cleaned up and settle down after the afternoon's events. Eventually, you both wander back to join the rest of the gang who have gathered around the main fire, where you are met with curious faces when they notice Arthur's bandage and the exhausted expressions upon both your faces. With a cup of hot coffee in your hand (and a whiskey bottle in Arthur's) you begin to recount the day's events about the bounty hunter to your friends.

"It's a good thing Arthur was there, then," suggests Abigail when you finish speaking, her eyes dancing back and forth between you and Arthur with a soft approving smile on her face.

From where he sits perched upon an overturned crate, Micah snorts a laugh of disbelief at her statement. "Well, that’s one way to look at it." He leans over to spit dismissively into the grass at his feet. "The way I see it, that piece of shit was there for Arthur, not her," he emphasizes with a wave in your direction. "She wouldn't have been in trouble in the first place if it weren't for him. So it’s more like Arthur was damn lucky he was able to pull that off without getting either of their asses shot. No?"

Leave it to Micah Bell to try and stir things up. Especially when it comes to Arthur.

You pitch a heated glare at Micah over the plumes of smoke that dance in the air, one that matches the burning embers that you all are sitting around. "You have no idea what you're even talki-"

"He’s right," Arthur confesses, cutting you off mid-sentence before you can rant and tear into the weasley man sitting across from you. He takes another gulp from the whiskey bottle and casually stretches his leg out a bit and resettles his weight to get more comfortable. You snap your head to look from Micah to Arthur now, his statement halting you in your tracks. You simply stare incredulously at Arthur, eyes blinking in disbelief.

"I’m sorry, I don’t understand what you just said," the sarcasm dripping from your voice as you shake your head at this nonsense. "It sounds like you said that 'Micah Bell is right'?"

"If that guy hadn’t known me, he may have just passed us by." Arthur keeps his tone calm and stares into your eyes as if to drill this belief into your stubborn head.

"Or he would have just killed us both!" you interject, your voice getting more annoyed by the second as you ball the fabric of your skirt into your hands.

"I shouldn’t have taken you out of camp," he argues back stubbornly, his grip tightening on the neck of the whiskey bottle in his hand. "Should've had Charles do it."

"You always do th-!" your voice raises now as you start to get angry.

"Either way, it’s done now," Dutch's deep voice booms sharply from where he’s sitting by the fire. His voice cuts through the mounting tension between you and Arthur, his hand slicing through the air in the finality of discussion. "No harm done. (Y/N)’s fine, that fella’s dead, Arthur is in one piece. It's over." Like a parent reprimanding his children, Dutch's tone is firm and unyielding in ending this argument before it can even begin. His dark eyes dart menacingly back and forth between you and Arthur, just waiting for any protest.

You bite your tongue as you hold Arthur's gaze with an unspoken irritation. After a moment of silence, Arthur abruptly gets up and storms off, intent on hiding away in his tent before he can say or do something stupid that he'll regret.

Your eyes follow him, glaring angrily out of frustration, desperately trying to ignore the stinging sensation of tears about to spill forth. The only sound to be heard is the crackling and popping of the fire in front of you.

From where she sits next to you, Abigail places a comforting hand upon your arm and sighs in disappointment. "Just let it go, (Y/N). Let him wallow."

------------------------

The next few days are odd, to say the least. Arthur isn't specifically ignoring you, but he is definitely distracted and in his own head. There is much work to do in camp, so the distraction is welcome, but he is certainly conflicted. A few days ago, he was finally ready to sit you down and profess his affections for you; to finally come clean and speak out loud what has been rolling around in his head and bubbling in his heart for quite some time. But now, that horrible self-doubt is creeping its way back in, like ivy that climbs up the garden wall. And he feels guilty about it, too. One minute you two are inseparable, the next he won't come near you with a ten-foot pole. It has to be confusing to you, he figures. It has to be, seeing as it confuses the hell out of him, too.

Today, Arthur and Micah are riding out to follow a lead on a job. Normally, Arthur does not care to work jobs with Micah. But with John and Javier out on another route, and Bill and Charles each following their own leads, these two men are left for Dutch to send out. The two set out and make their way over to the next town to meet a man about a tip on a supply run. And with Arthur being quieter than usual, it doesn't take long for Micah to start running his mouth.

"You still poutin' over that mess with the bounty hunter, Morgan?" Micah glances over at the other man and his horse, a merciless tease in his voice as he pokes at what he knows is still a sensitive subject.

Arthur gives no answer except more silence and a scowl that deepens as he sits stiffly in his saddle while they travel the dusty road.

Micah gives a slight shrug at Arthur's lack of response. "Maybe that was an eye-opening experience?"

"What in the hell are you going on about now, Micah?" the outlaw asks irritably, finally giving Micah a brief glance in acknowledgement.

"Oh I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud is all," he says, feigning innocence. "But I'm just wondering if (Y/N) is really meant for this kind of life."

Arthur says nothing, but his eyes shift from Micah back to the path ahead of them at the thought. Micah takes quick notice at how Arthur's shoulders tense and his eyes become harder.

"I'm starting to wonder if she'd be better off without you, Arthur. I mean, let's be honest, she really don't fit in too well with the likes of us, now does she?" Micah pauses to gauge the reaction. And he sneers to see he's succeeding in getting under Arthur's skin and decides to keep prodding. "If you really like (Y/N) that much, maybe you should just stay away from her. She'd be a hell of a lot safer that way, don't you think?" Micah smirks to himself as he plants the seed into Arthur's brain. But of course, he'd swoop in on you in a heartbeat if Arthur were out of the way. “It's kinda selfish if you ask me, cowpoke.”

"Yeah, well good thing I didn’t ask you!" Arthur shouts, finally tired of Micah's needling.

Micah drops the reins of his horse for a moment and holds his hands up in surrender. "Now hold on, I didn't mean anything by it. Like I said, I'm just talking out loud here. But one of these days, that woman is gonna realize she don’t belong here with us, Arthur. And you’ll wake up one morning, or come back to camp, and..." he makes a gesture with his hand like smoke dissipating into the air, "... she’ll be gone.”

This statement makes Arthur freeze in his tracks. Although this is an idea that has been festering in the back of his mind for a while now, it is something he is not prepared to hear out loud. And certainly not something to be pointed out by the likes of Micah Bell. "Can you just shut your mouth for one damn moment so we can get this job done?!" Arthur snaps.

Micah says nothing, but holds his hands up again with a shrug.

This conversation germinates in Arthur's mind and puts him in a foul mood for days afterwards. He keeps a distance from everyone, including you. You don’t take too much offense to it at first, since you understand that Arthur sometimes gets in his own head, often needing solitude for lengths of time. Especially after running a job with Micah Bell. In fact, the space is actually a bit convenient right now, since you're trying to keep away from Arthur as well.

The run-in with the bounty hunter has forced you to take a hard look at your situation. You need to decide if you should finally confront Arthur and tell him how you feel about him. The thought of losing him the other day was almost too much for you to bear. But you are also well aware of Arthur's misgivings about personal attachments. You do not want to force Arthur into a scenario that he is not comfortable with. And, while Arthur is worried about endangering you, you are worried about being his weakness, his liability. That bounty hunter was quick to realize that you were the way to get to Arthur. Fortunately, Arthur was more than capable of dealing with that idiot. But what if he wasn't? What if Arthur is ever put in danger because of his weakness for you?

The problem is, you don’t know how much longer you can try to hide your feelings. The girls in camp already know how you feel about Arthur, and it’s pretty obvious to everyone else, for sure. You're almost positive that he feels the same for you as well, so what’s the point in denying it? You thought he’d have made a move or at least said something to you by now. You have tried to leave some not-so-subtle hints, but every time you think something will happen between you two, he always pulls away, leaving you confused and lonely. You know Arthur doesn’t have a high opinion of himself, and that things would need to go slow if this is something that you should pursue. But how can he deny what is so obvious to everyone else?

One late afternoon you're sitting in your tent, restless from having this internal struggle yet again. So you decide to take matters into your own hands. You huff in frustration, launching yourself off of your cot, a look of resolution on your face as you smooth out your skirts. "OK, that’s it. It’s now or never.” And you burst forth out of your tent in search of Arthur.

You head out into the common area of the camp, surveying your surroundings. And of course, you spot him by the horses, brushing down Buck. He’s been stewing over there a lot, ever since that job with Micah.

You take a deep breath. "You can do this," you whisper to yourself. And you head over to the hitching posts. Your pace is hesitant at first, but the longer your gaze fixates on Arthur, the faster you walk with determination. As you get closer, you casually walk up next to your horse, Blue, rubbing his nose as he nickers at your approach.

“Hey, you,“ you say, giving Arthur a little grin along with your usual greeting for each other.

“Hey…” he grumbles out in reply. He lifts his face, but quickly averts his eyes, as if guilty of some act against you.

"Want to go out for a ride with me?" you ask, your voice hopeful. Your hand absentmindedly caresses Blue's muzzle as you gaze at Arthur, trying to pin him down.

His hands pause in their work, not sure how to answer. He really does want to go out and to be alone with you, but in light of recent events, he thinks twice about it.

You can see the gears turning in his mind to try to find an excuse when he averts his eyes and doesn't answer you.

"Come on, please?" you whine, adding a little childish stomp. "I’m getting restless just sitting around here."

Arthur takes a deep breath as he considers his answer. “Yeah, I don’t think it's…”

"Come on, if you don’t come with me, I’ll just head out on my own," you cut him off with your threat before he can say no. Your hands plant firmly on your hips as you stare him down. "You don’t want me going out by myself, do you?"

Damn it. You know he can never say 'no' to you.

With an eye roll and an exasperated sigh to match, he simply gives you an “Alright, fine.”

Smiling triumphantly with a look that could melt Arthur in moments should he look upon you for too long, you spin around and get Blue saddled up as quickly as you can before Arthur can change his mind.

The afternoon temperature has started to drop to a comfortable degree as you and Arthur head down the path and out of camp. There’s a pleasant breeze carrying the fragrance of autumn in the air. You travel fairly quietly through the woods, only making small talk here and there, before heading to one of the overlooks that you like to frequent. It's a pretty little spot, tucked up on a ridge looking down over the valley. It gives an unobstructed view of the horizon and expanse of the land before you.

The overlook itself is littered with the last bit of wildflowers for the season and is covered with lush grasses that sway with the wind. This place has always been a peaceful getaway for you, and you were so thankful when Arthur brought you here to show it to you. Ever since, this is where you come for clarity and peace of mind. And you couldn't think of a better place to finally tell Arthur of your feelings for him.

You pull your horse to a stop and eagerly hop down from Blue's saddle. Blue follows behind you like an overgrown dog as you wander through the tall grass. Arthur slowly drops down from his saddle, watching you from behind. The sun is in front and off to the left side of you, casting your face and body in a warm, golden glow. Arthur instantly takes notice of how angelic you are. Your billowy skirts unfurl as they catch on the grass and your white blouse soaks up the amber colors of the sun's rays like paint to a canvas. You are so beautiful in this moment that it makes Arthur's heart ache, knowing he’ll never have happiness with you. Micah’s words ring through his mind as he watches you and he has to remind himself that good things don’t happen to bad men.

After you wander to sit on one of the large boulders that jut out of the red soil, you bend over to pick one of the wild daisies growing at your feet. You twirl the bud absentmindedly between your fingertips as you look about at the glorious view. A calm begins to settle over you as the smooth, cold surface of the rock beneath you radiates through your body. Your eye catches a few hawks circling in the sky out over the field in front you. You watch as they magically hover in the air and a contented smile crosses your face. Blue wanders over past you, snorting and nuzzling into your back as he passes, sniffing to find treats in your pockets.

"Get out of here, Blue, I ain’t got nothing for you," you chuckle, pushing his nose away. You look over your shoulder when you notice that Arthur hasn’t followed you. "You gonna join me?" you ask, a smile gracing your features to match the twinkle in your eye.

Arthur stands next to Buck, silent and fiddling with the horse's reins as he shifts his weight. Reluctantly, he walks over and slowly sits down next to you.

The two of you sit quietly for a bit, enjoying the view, until you nervously clear your throat. "So, I'm afraid I haven't been completely truthful with you, Arthur. There’s something that I want to talk about with you." You look down at your hands in your lap as you speak, your fingers rolling over each other. "It’s something I’ve been thinking about for awhile now." Taking a brief pause, you swallow before you continue. "I’m not really sure how to tell you this, to be honest."

Arthur’s stomach drops and his breathing becomes shallow as he notes how uncomfortable you are all of a sudden. You won't look him in the eye, and you're fidgeting. Something has you all worked up. And then it hits him: You're leaving. He’s sure of it. After what happened with the bounty hunter, he can't really blame you. And you've brought him out here to tell him. What else could have you this anxious? Arthur can feel his spirit deflate in disappointment. Everyone leaves at some point. But at least you are kind enough to tell him personally after all this time. Micah was right.

"God, I didn’t think I’d be so nervous about this," you mumble to yourself, your hands sweating as they continue to roll over each other in your lap.

"Look, (Y/N)…you don’t have to…" Arthur tries to speak, tries to put your mind at ease, but you hold your hand up to shush him, interrupting before he can get too far.

“Arthur, please, just…let me get this out before I lose my nerve,” you say quietly.

So he sits quietly as he sets his hands upon his thighs, fingers nervously drumming. His mouth goes dry, eyes fixated on the tips of his boots, waiting with trepidation for you to say what you have brought him here to tell him.

You close your eyes and take a deep, steadying breath...

“Arthur, I’ve come to realize…that…I have feelings for you."

And there it is, finally out in the open. Your words hang in the air for him to hear and ingest. No going back now, no hiding it any longer. And with this revelation, a great weight is lifted off of your chest.

You stop, looking at him out of the corner of your eye, testing the waters to see his reaction. But he sits there, not moving, eyes still aimed at his feet. His head is spinning, as this is not the news he was expecting to hear. He’s elated that you're not leaving after all, and breathes an internal sigh of relief. Yet that feeling of happiness quickly turns to shock and concern, when he fully realizes what it is that you have just said to him.

“What did you say?” he whispers, his body rigid with tension.

Suddenly, you become very apprehensive at Arthur's response. You thought he’d be happier than this.

“I care for you, Arthur. Deeply," you say emphatically.

You gently reach over and place your hand over his that still rests on his thigh, and lean forward to try to peer into his face to gauge his reaction. His eyes flicker to your delicate hand on top of his own calloused one. He is frozen in this moment of time, paralyzed. He’s prayed to hear those very words from your lips for so, so long. Yet, he has also dreaded it. For Arthur truly believes that he could be the very end of you.

With a great pain in his chest, Arthur slowly withdrawals his hand from under yours. You look in confusion from where your hands were once folded together, to his face, but he still won’t look at you. Your heart begins to pound loudly in your ears.

"Arthur?" Your voice quakes with trepidation, yet he still sits there, not moving, not speaking.

"Say something. Please?" You sound so small as you beg for a response from him. This void of silence is crushing.

Arthur closes his eyes and winces, knowing the next thing he has to say is the most painful thing he’s had to do in a long time. "I….I can’t," his voice barely a whisper.

Your eyes shoot open wide. "What?" your voice cracks in disbelief.

"You don’t want me, (Y/N)" he says, shaking his head, his gaze still fixated on his boot-tips.

"Why on Earth not?"

"I'm not a good man. You deserve better in this life, and so much better than me.” Arthur's answer is so simple in its delivery, as if this is something that you should have known all along.

You are stunned into silence for a few minutes, processing what he’s just said to you, desperately trying not to get upset. "Don’t I get a say in what’s best for me?" you challenge back.

“No, not in this case." Arthur still won't look at you, and his voice maintains a sad and low tone. His calmness over such a thing is almost maddening to you.

"Look at me, Arthur," you demand desperately. "Look at me!" He turns just enough to give you a side glance before guiltily averting his eyes again when he sees the tears starting to gather around your irises. "Can you really sit there and tell me you feel nothing for me?" you ask incredulously.

“It's not a matter of what I want, (Y/N)." He tries to speak calmly to you, hoping to make you understand and trying not to upset you any more than he already has. But you are not having any of it. Your emotions are a churning sea right now; intense and uncontrollable.

"Like hell it’s not!" your voice is starting to rise now. "Your wants, your dreams, they matter, Arthur. You matter. I know you don’t see that, but I see you, Arthur. I see you." You begin to rapidly blink back the tears forming in your eyes, desperate to get through to him.

"I tell my dreams to ghosts at this point," he mumbles to himself, shaking his head. His eyes dart around rapidly, trying to look anywhere but at your face right now. He abruptly stands up, pacing a few steps. He draws his hand over his mouth, wishing this conversation was not happening.

"It’s OK to give everything you got, Arthur, but you have to keep something for yourself too,” you implore as you watch him pace in front of you.

“Not this time," he says sternly, finally looking at you with such intensity. "What the hell do you want with someone like me, anyways?!" his own voice now rising to meet yours. "I’m old, I’m ugly, I’m mean…”

“Jesus, you really are broken aren’t you?" you ask in wonder as you take in the sight of him, watching him nervously unravel before your eyes.

“Bah…” he grunts angrily, waving you off. He turns away from you to face the horizon line again, getting more annoyed by the second. But still, you keep pushing.

“Why are you making this so hard, Arthur?!”

“Because!" he spins back to face you again. "It’s only a matter of time before you figure out what a piece of shit I am, (Y/N)! I can’t go through that again. Not again. Not with you.” He waves his arm to decisively make his point. And it is now that you fully understand his greatest fear and worry.

“You don’t know that!“ you beg.

“Yes, I do!" he shouts angrily at you, his volume startling the horses grazing nearby. He is now past his breaking point, his chest heaving with the battle of emotions within him. "Why can’t you just leave things as they are, (Y/N)?!”

“Because that’s not good enough!" you holler back, not willing to give up on him. "Is that what you really want, Arthur?”

“That’s how it has to be. You shouldn’t even be here!” He throws that bomb back in your face, unaware at the severity of its delivery.

The statement cuts you like a knife, twisting into your heart so deep that it makes you gasp and your eyes go wide. And the moment it escapes Arthur's lips, the look of shock on your face makes him regret saying it. Aside from your feelings, Arthur is your best friend. He is the one who brought you here. How could he really think that? It is a blow that he meant to end this argument, but he severely underestimated the damage it would do in its wake.

You are shaken to your core. This is certainly not how you thought this conversation was going to go when you imagined it in your head. You can feel your fingertips and toes go numb, your nerves alight.

You simply stare at him, speechless, before you lean forward and bury your face into your hands, trying to comprehend this nonsense. This lovely moment that you envisioned has gone so horribly wrong. You were so sure that Arthur would fold you up into his massive arms upon your revelation. This adolescent awkwardness that the two of you have danced around for so long could finally be put behind you and you could move on together. You could put an end to the shared notion of loneliness that sits deep within you both. It was a gamble. You would expose the delicate nerves of your heart in hopes that he would accept it. But you sorely miscalculated. Maybe you are too naive? Maybe this romantic notion of loving an outlaw is just a silly idea after all?

You sniffle back the tears that still threaten to spill forth, determined to keep yourself together. Defeated, you slowly stand up, avoiding his watchful gaze, and turn to head back to the horses. Arthur's chest is heavy with guilt from having to hurt you like this. He gingerly reaches out and catches your elbow before you walk away from him.

“Please, (Y/N)," his voice quiet again, pleading for forgiveness. "This is for your own good.” His blue eyes implore you to understand his reasoning.

"Right, Arthur. My own good."

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan rdr2

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juniper-clan · 1 year ago

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What's the header image from? Also completely unrelated, any tips for people wanting to start their own clangen comic/blog?

It's an oceanic map from Swedish cartographer Olaus Magnus from the 16th century. He made very beautiful oceanic maps with a lot of odd creatures. I highly recommend looking at all the maps he drew.

The one in particular used for my header is from the Scandinavian peninsula. Here's a link to zoom in on it courtesy of the library of congress.

As for starting your own comic / blog -- find a form of storytelling that doesn't exhaust you.

A lot of clangen blogs and stories are over many moons and the last thing you want is to burn yourself out.

Note important events.

Even if they seem unimportant. One cats conversation with another might be their very last, and you may not know it until the next moon. That seemingly boring conversation may have significant meaning you don't know about until it's too late.

Tie in things you care about.

For me, a hyperfixation is historical research and fashion. So I threw JuniperClan in the time period of 1701. Any Two Legs that appear in the story will be in the correct (or as close as I can get) clothing for settlers of the time period. Drawing that excites me. Having my cats interact with a non-modern world excites me and has me think outside the box.

Put them in space. Put them in a German U-Boat in WWII. Put them in an abandoned building about to get demolished. Anything that sparks ideas, creativity, and EXCITEMENT.

Know at some point, briefly, it will become a chore.

Even if it's fun, some days you won't want to do it. That's why I say find the easiest way to create, so trudging through a moon you don't want to do doesn't feel like pulling teeth.

Lastly:

INTERACT!

I think I'm an anomaly for receiving the attention I did so suddenly; but receiving sweet comments, giving people comments, etc helps immensely with inspiration.

(Yes. Comments. I know. "Likes" all blur together at some point and I can't tell people apart.)

If you get along with another clan include them in your comic, or bounce ideas off them. The sense of community helps IMMENSELY.

I can't think of anymore but I hope it helps!

#jcooc #clangen #warrior cats #clangen warrior cats #jcasks #thanks for asking

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thedisablednaturalist · 7 days ago

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I dont know if it’s something youve been asked before, and i dont know how to really phrase my thoughts. But whats it like working in like environmental things well disabled? Have you met many, or any, other disabled people in the field? I’m 16, and ever since I was little I’ve had so much passion for environmental education in particular, and it was a field I wanted to go into for a long time. Sadly it seems like my body has other plans, I’m currently at a point where I might have to drop out of highschool because managing class and disability is too much, and so college feels impossible. And when it was mostly mental stuff I had thought about maybe joining americorps or something because it looked like they’ll take people with a ged and then I could still do work I care about, but I’ve only ever met one physically disabled person doing anything related to the environment and stuff (there’s a person with leg braces and a service dog who works at the local aquarium) so I never really get a chance to ask about this stuff

so idk, sorry if I’m rambling a lot and hard to understand. If it makes you feel any better I’ve cornered every environmental educator I’ve met the last year or so (and I go to a project based environmental charter school thing, so I meet a lot) and asked them a lot of questions too. Especially since my school encourages us to think about future careers and what skills we need

so idk, I want to know. What’s it like? Is it hard? What did you have to do to get the job you have now? Do you regret it, would you choose something different if you could go back? Do you have any advice?

I hope you’re having an ok day, and that I’m not too annoying, and thank you if you even took the time to read this far. -🌱

no no don't apologize, this is exactly what this blog is for. When I started my journey I couldn't find any outspoken disabled environmentalists or any resources for people like us. So I started this blog to compile resources and share what I've learned as my career has progressed. I want everyone regardless of physical or mental state to be able to pursue their passions in environmental science and conservation.

Honestly, this field has a long way to go still. Even big institutions like the Smithsonian haven't quite figured it out yet. But there is definitely a shift happening. I've been seeing so many more disabled young people interested in this field and its amazing. I saw another physically disabled student at the Smithsonian conservation biology institute when I visited as an alum a few weeks ago, and I believe I was one of if not the first person to attend as a wheelchair user (yeah they didn't know what to do with me 😮‍💨) I had a professor who directly singled me out for being a wheelchair user so you will unfortunately run into some bigots in this field.

However the federal government (im assuming you are in the US so apologies if you're not) especially during the Biden administration has been ramping up its hiring of Schedule A employees. Schedule A allows you to circumvent the competitive process through the WRP (workplace recruitment program) once you've graduated college (or GED). Schedule A can be provided by a doctor or disability counselor (My DARS office did mine, love DARS: it's free and every state has one). My manager is HOH as well as one of my new coworkers and I was of course recently hired by the EPA as well. The EPA is probably the most disability friendly place to work in our field, if not anywhere. It has its issues but I've been pretty much over-accommodated instead of under (sad I consider the minimum accommodations to feel excessive).

Here's some of the things I've learned so far:

1. My biggest advice to anyone your age wanting to get into this field is to volunteer volunteer volunteer!! You are most likely at a time where you can afford to work for free. Most environmental internships are unpaid unless you have prior experience with the organization. Try out a bunch of different experiences to find out what you like the most. I never would have thought I'd be a bug person until I did my first invertebrate stream assessment. I got into environmental science late in my college career so it took me a lot longer to figure out what I wanted to do. Get as much experience as you can while you are still supported by your parents and don't have to worry about things like rent or bills. Some organizations are trying to change this so people from lower incomes can still have the same opportunities, but it still has a ways to go. Notably zookeepers have to work either for free or for dirt cheap for a couple years before they get hired full time.

2. Be prepared to lose out on your dream job due to your disability(s). I'm going to be frank and not spout any of that "you can do anything you put your mind to" bullshit. Yes, most things CAN be done by anyone with the right accommodations, but in a field where a large percentage of the work is done physically, you will be unable to do some types of jobs. I'm not saying it's impossible to get your dream job with disabilities, but it's a very common experience for us. For example, I looked into working on a boat. In a perfect world, I'd be given limitless accommodations and time to rest but on a boat that is extremely difficult. You can't take sick days whenever you need them. This was the same thing I had to realize when I was offered my dream job in my dream location: A stream specialist field technician for the USGS in Portland Oregon. I absolutely loved working in the field, and yes there are many of us who do/did fieldwork using mobility aids. I miss fieldwork everyday. But I had to turn it down. I knew deep down I couldn't handle it, having scheduled in advance field excursions that I couldn't postpone, having to hike in difficult terrain in remote locations, even moving across the entire country, at least at the time, was improbable. I was barely holding on at my field job where I did have safety nets. I just couldn't justify the financial and physical strain as well as the risk if I wasn't able to do the job and became unemployed. It broke my heart to give it up and I'm still grieving. But I do enjoy my current job and it lets me prioritize my health. No longer do I just work and sleep because work would take up all my spoons. I've been drawing and gaming and spending more time with loved ones. It is an unfortunate fact of life that sometimes what we want isn't what we need. Being disabled means that sometimes we have to make hard decisions that abled people don't ever have to think about. It's part of the grieving process for those of us who were abled at some point. I can't speak on what it's like for those with lifelong disabilities from birth, but I know its hard for them too.

3. Ok yeah 2 was a huge bummer, but here's where it gets better: When one door with stairs closes, a door with a ramp opens. There will be other opportunities. This field isn't just fieldwork despite what most people think. You don't have to be a super strong ranger that can hike 20 miles in a day without breaking a sweat to do environmental work. The field needs people who take what the guys outside collect and analyze it, research it, visualize it, present on it, take care of it, write about it, archive it, make art of it, etc etc etc. There are so many organizations that need people who can do data analysis and administration. Working at a desk doesn't make you less of an environmentalist. Plus that's not all, you can work in a lab or work with smaller creatures like bugs or herps or fish or you could do botany or geology! You don't need to be able to go out and get them yourself to work with them. Being able to save energy during my workday allows me to pursue my passions like collecting bugs and swimming. I can volunteer with citizen science projects or conservation orgs and still do fieldwork, but because its not a job I can do it when I feel up to it, I don't have to push myself to keep going because I'm worried about being fired. I currently work as a data analyst for the EPA and I work mostly from home so I can do my work without suffering. Yea data analysis isn't my favorite thing in the world but your job doesn't have to be. Sometimes a job is something that makes you money so you can do your passions outside of it. But I am happy the work I do supports something I am passionate about (supporting states so they can clean up more sites and thus have cleaner water).

4. You'll have to learn how to advocate for yourself. Push against boundaries. Explore your options. Especially with doctors. You know yourself best, don't let anyone else define your boundaries for you, even me. If someone says you can't do something because of your disability, but you know that you actually can, tell them and be assertive about it. Many of us are seen as abrasive and rude, but to be a disabled person in a very abled centered world you gotta be. Don't let anyone hold you back because THEY feel uncomfortable. My coworkers at my old job were worried for me when I showed up to work with my crutches for the first time. But it actually made me BETTER at stream assessments (having four legs means you don't slip as much). I could do it even if I needed to take breaks and use mobility aids. Nowadays it's too much for me to be doing that but at the time it was within my limits. And sometimes, you'll overestimate yourself and end up flaring or hurting yourself. It's okay to make mistakes, it doesn't make you a bad person. At first you'll push through too much but as you learn your body's limits you'll get better at managing your disability. And sometimes a great memory is worth a week-long flare up. Its for YOU to decide what you can do.

That's all I can think of for now, I should probably get ready for bed soon. But just remember, there are more of us than they think and we can be capable, productive, and a benefit to the environmental movement no matter our ability or skills.

If you have anymore specific questions, or just need to talk, I'm always available (even if I might take a while to reply).

#wrenfea.ask #environmental science #field technician #from the field #chronic disability #chronic pain #spoonie #disability #chronic illness #physical disability #neurodivergence #working while disabled #I've been thinking about creating a Tumblr community since I just got the ability to #what do yall think?

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spade-riddles · 7 months ago

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So Karlie has an interview for Elle magazine that I have conflicted feelings about. On the one hand, she ends it talking about the importance of heirloom pieces. Saying her husband bought her a Cartier watch for their wedding and one day she hopes to pass it on to their daughter, if she's lucky enough to have one. It would be stupid to pretend a potential surface reading of this isn't that she plans to stick it out in the lavender marriage with Jerk through a third child. I really don't want this to be the case, but I feel like they've teased us with the hope of it finally being over before, by going dark for weeks, only to suddenly show up again packing on the PR PDA. So . . . who knows. I've been burned too many times before not to be suspicious.

BUT.

If I'm being optimistic. An alternate reading is that the "husband" Karlie is referring to here is actually her wife. We've talked before about the symbolism of Cartier jewelry for these two, and the idea of Taylor gifting Karlie a Cartier watch on the day of her lavender "wedding" fits. Remember the "love locked down" locket during the Tayvin era? We speculated that was to represent Kaylor holding steadfast to each other during the lockdown of the Tayvin contract. Something they could draw strength from. Locket imagery then showed up in Taylor's lyrics, when talking about a secret love.

It makes sense to me that Taylor would repeat this and give Karlie a gift to hold onto during another tough time of romantic lockdown. And watches, clocks, etc have been a recurring theme in Taylor's lyrics since the lavender marriage, just like the locket was before. ("Our old spot by the gold clock" is an example that stands out especially. About a secret meeting place, with someone Taylor fears she keeps letting down. We never could quite figure that one out.) Taylor has also quite literally been wearing watches as jewelry for the TTPD era.

The way Karlie talks about this watch, I'm picturing a gold pocket watch, like in the Bejeweled music video. Fits for an heirloom, and would explain why we've never seen it. It would also explain why the gold compact mirrors keep recurring as imagery - maybe they're stand-ins for a look alike gold watch!

Also of note is that Karlie says she wants to pass this down to her daughter. It reads almost like it was a slip of the tongue? Like she then corrects herself by saying "I have two sons" and "maybe one day". I don't know. I just thought that moment was a little strange. You're pretty much the only blogger I know still on the train of "they had a daughter" and while I respect everyone's opinions on this and have no particular investment in it myself either way (they have kids and they're happy, that's all I need to know), it did seem like . . . in a certain light, you could read it as confirmation of this blog's theory. If we DO get news of a split soon, and this hypothetical third child with Jerk becomes impossible, then that's definitely the light I'll be reading those comments in. A little nod to the truth.

I guess only time will tell.

Thank you for this thorough review. I like your clock analysis. I read the article last night and had this exact same feeling about the daughter comment:

“It reads almost like it was a slip of the tongue? Like she then corrects herself by saying "I have two sons" and "maybe one day". I don't know. I just thought that moment was a little strange.”

Also, while it does imply she is still stunting, we do not know when the interview took place. I have no idea how long it takes from interview to articles published in those magazines. So trying to stay optimistic like you are.

Link to article

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angelofsmalldeath-codeine · 6 months ago

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What we lose in art when blogs leave the platform

Last night I was working on my fics database (I’m the spreadsheet kinda autistic) and checking if the links I had were still working and trying to fetch links for the ones I had recently added. I was upset about the number of blogs gone (some might have changed name and I haven't kept up and that one is on me). Some really amazing stories, art and overall fun is all gone. Precious interactions that help build the community totally vanished.

The vitriol and unjustified hate I see spewed everywhere has gotten to unbearable levels. I’ve been in fandoms and fanfic communities since the days of printed zines and yahoo/geocities groups that were uber hard to get into. I have survived all the websites that shutdown leading us to mourn the loss of that work. Fanfic was akin to contraband and harshly judged. We know we are weirdos, hence why we find community in alternative spaces away from the mainstream.

It feels like people want us to go underground again. Cool, we can do that, but we gonna be gatekeeping the hell outta these spaces then.

What peeves me the most is the puritanical take that has been recently brought into the space and how that’s used to measure others and judge them on some standards they are not even aware of until they start getting hate. Said hate is usually delivered via anon asks, of course, because god forbid them having the decency of defending their shitty takes, right?

Still on the puritanical take, the goalpost seems to change often too. It is self-serving. Kink shaming/topic judging is the default mode until someone decides they like that particular thing and it is no longer controversial. Why are you censoring your peers? Why do you assume that everyone subscribes to your beliefs, tastes, preferred topics and tropes? The performative activism isn't a good look either.

Sometimes this fandom feels like the mormons who do the soaking thing so they can get off before marriage without actually fucking. If the cock goes in because my friend is jumping on the mattress, that is on the mattress, not on me. I digress but y'all get the gist.

I have been on this hellsite since its launch and have seen many fandoms come and go. The assholes eventually fuck off to be toxic somewhere else, but they do tend to jump from fandom to fandom for a while until their reputation and toxicity catches up with them. It takes too long and the damage they cause is often quite extensive.

We are not in competition with each other here. I have said it so many times... Tumblr isn't a monetised platform and fanfic is a gift economy. Leave your fucking TikTok and Instagram cut throat mentality at the door. We don't tear each other down trying to build ourselves up in this house.

During the pandemic fanfic came into the mainstream mostly because of people on TikTok. Great! We are a welcoming bunch and it makes us happy that more people can find joy in consuming fan made art of their favourite shows and ships in whatever form they choose.

It is not because we've opened the door that we will let y'all trash the room. I'm sure you were raised better than that.

Can you not be assholes? Much appreciated.

P.S.: I am too old to care and have zero fucks left to give about anyone's feelings getting offended over this. Fuck you very much.

#internet etiquette #fandom etiquette #you were raised better than that ffs #why y'all think harassing people will make you more relevant?#it is giving mean girl and peaked in high school #like seriously #I swear to god #I am more concerned about what we are slowly losing than you getting pissy

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galedekarios · 1 year ago

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Hey! You're my go-to blog when it comes to Gale. I love your meta about him, your insight and your knowledge of his character. This being said, I'd like to know your opinion of this line in his romance:

“To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command... None have loved me so purely before.”

Do you think he's talking about romantic love here? Because his mother and Tara clearly love him for the person he is, too. Or are his insecurities and the idea of himself so strong that he can't see this? Thank you in advance, have a great evening!

thank you so much! 🖤

personally, i do think that he does mean this in a romantic context.

HOWEVER, having said that, i do think there are different insecurities woven into his perception of relationships that venture outside of his worth due to magic, and into his worth as a person who is in need of help and support - yet considering the core of why that is, they are also connected.

what i mean by that is that there are moments in particular that make me believe he feels a burden to people, because he is in need of help and - from his perception - makes others 'work' to help him, he asks a "sacrifice" of people (needing magical artefact so he consume the weave inside to stabilise the netherese orb) that is so great in his eyes that he feels the need to convince them that said sacrifice is worth the "investment".

i realise this is sort of going in two directions, but i don't think i can answer this differently so i hope you'll bear with me for a bit:

i'll try to look at the relationships you mentioned in your ask separately to illustrate what exactly i mean.

1. from what little we do know about morena, nearly every time she is mentioned it's made clear that she truly and unequivocally loves gale, and i do believe gale is aware that she loves him, too - and really, truly just for him.

we have these two convos with tara that highlight how that love (both are from gale's origin playthrough):

Tara the Tressym: Well, if it isn't my favourite fellow himself. Gale: How are things back in Waterdeep? Tara the Tressym: More or less the same - though news of some mad faction calling themselves 'Absolutists' is starting to trickle in. Tara the Tressym: I told your mother not to worry. That if they were anything to worry about, Baldur's Gate would handle things quick-sharp. Keep them from spreading their tendrils north. She still wants to know when she'll see you again, sir. I avoid giving any answers. But she misses you. Gale: I miss her too. Tara the Tressym: I'll tell her. With my Cat Flap of Displacement, I can afford the occasional visit. I'd bring you along, if I could. Perhaps some day. - Gale: I can't risk putting her in danger. Tara the Tressym: I know that, but she doesn't. She'd keel over if she knew just how you'd tried to manipulate the Weave. Or maybe she'd just say something like, 'My Gale always was one to make the impossible possible.' Oh, but she adores you.

and this one from act ii:

Gale: Will you love me when I'm a mind flayer? Tara the Tressym: Depends. Are mind flayers warm-blooded? If so, my prize napping spot on your lap won't be compromised. In which case, I suppose we could find an accord. And, of course, your mother would still think you a prince, no matter how many tentacles you had. And with a nautiloid, you may even manage to visit her more often.

from the one tiny snippet (that is still bugged) in which gale mentions his mother to the player character, he seems quite assured in that love his mother has for him as well:

Player: So your last name is Dekarios? Gale: It is. Courtesy of my mother, the inimitable, dare I say it sometimes unavoidable, Morena Dekarios. It's been so long since I've used it. 'Gale Dekarios' cut a poor figure next to the wizard prowess of 'Gale of Waterdeep'. [...] - Player: Doesn't your matter mind? Gale: Oh, she's happy if I'm happy. Morena couldn't care one jot what I call myself. Tara's the real stickler for using it. Has done since I summoned her. I'd prefer you not follow her exmaple, if that's all the same to you. 'Gale' is more than sufficient.

she's happy if he's happy.

i think the only thing that detrimental to the relationship with his mother is the orb, the shame he feels over what has happened and fearing he may put her in danger. which, sadly, is a valid concern to have. these fears aren't only echoed in the conversations with tara. we have this bit from the same conversation as well:

Player: You’re right. Just 'Gale’ is better. Gale: I agree. And on the plus side, if I get myself into any truly cataclysmic straits during the remainder of our journey, my family name will go untarnished.

his family name will go untarnished and with that, his mother's name.

this is more speculative, but in another meta i mentioned that i do believe that gale's father left the family at some point, abandoning morena and gale. his father also is not mentioned in the letter from elminster in god!gale's ending:

this could of course be meaningless and his father simply may not have been there at this point in time, but i think this overall goes with the theme of an absent father and it may have brought gale and morena even closer.

2. tara herself doesn't let gale doubt her love him when the game allows her to be there.

she is extremely quick to try and beat any and all self-deprecating remarks gale may make. she is aghast at mystra's demands to the point of saying that she is considering picking up a crossbow to "put the gods" out of "our business." she's always been there for him, and she always will be. she's his longest friend and companion, as well as colleague.

i've picked a another example here to illustrate what i mean:

this very sadly appears to be cut content (tara was supposed to be there for a companion gale as well), but:

Gale: You seem to have fared well enough without me, Tara. You look positively prosperous. Gale: Or should I say, positively proser-puss! Ha! Tara the Tressym: No, you should not say that ever again. Gale: Apologies! Couldn't help myself. Tara the Tressym: True enough. That's why I came looking - to help, if I could. Gale: I have not failed to notice. I truly do not deserve such loyal companionship. Tara the Tressym: Yes, you do.

unfortunately, like i said, tara as gale's familiar and companion was cut from the final version of the game, so while we do know that gale is aware of all that tara has done for him (considering the conversation from the tiefling party, helping him through his isolation, finding out what his condition needs to be treated, getting magical artefacts for him, etc.), we have act iii companion gale saying this:

Gale: Tara remains as wilfull as ever, but I'm glad you've finally made her acquaintance. Given the length of my time away, I feared she might have given up on me. I should have known better - she'd never do such a thing.

while this is not gale thinking tara doesn't love him for who he is, it is very much gale thinking that tara may have given up on him because of their time apart.

there are definitely insecurities lurking there in the vein of "i cost her so much effort and so much work, so maybe now that i've been away for so long, she's finally had enough."

it's very sad to see.

3. when gale talks about previous lovers he has this to say:

Player: Gale, am I the first... mortal being you've been with? Gale: What a question... Gale: No, you are not the first. Though you are the first since my relationship with Mystra came to its ignominous end. Gale: When the true danger posed by my condition became apparent, I had no choice but to sequester myself away from civilised society. A reclusive wizard - who'd have thought? Gale: After so long with Mystra, I have to say the pleasures of mortal love are much sweeter than I remember. Though perhaps that's simply because it's with you.

this tells us that he must have had at least one lover before. yet, and that is where the quote in your ask is from, he also says this:

Player: What does our relationship mean to you? Gale: You must know, our relationship is the brightest spot in our otherwise bleak endeavour. Gale: To know you love me for the man I am, and not the magic I command... None have loved me so purely before. Gale: You are everything to me, and yet our relationship is only a nascent fraction of what it will become. You give me hope, and I've not had that in some time.

i think we can extrapolate from that that not only his relationship with mystra made him feel these insecurities, but that the relationships he had previous may have also fed into this perception of his worth as a romantic partner is tied to his magical abilities.

it's not hard to imagine: waterdeep is very much a city of intrigue. gale was not only a graduate of blackstaff academy, but a powerful archwizard and a chosen of mystra.

4. lastly, i want to talk a bit more about what i said in the beginning and when i talked about tara and companion!gale: that gale feels he is a burden / an investment.

it's already reflected a bit in the way that he believes his relationship with tara has deteriorated in act iii simply because of the distance between them now that he has been away from waterdeep for a prolonged amount of time.

the first time you can get a sense for this aspect of gale is when you agree right away to help him with his condition. there's a prolonged amount of silence and it's clear on his face that he didn't expect you to agree so quickly and without needing to be persuaded.

Gale: Thank you. I see my trust in you was not misplaced! Gale: I'm sure we won't have to look very far to find what I need: Faerûn overflows with magic-infused treasure. Gale: As do our packs, as a matter of fact. We've such an item already in our possession, primed for the moment the need arises. Gale: I know the allure magic artefacts hold. I understand their value and their power. All this to say: I understand the sacrifice I ask of you.

Player: No. If you aren't willing to tell me the truth, I'm not helping you. Gale: I understand that I'm asking for a lot, but I can't tell you everything.

he makes sure to thank the player deeply every time they do give him an artefact, bowing to them, citing their "boundless kindness" and it's also why he is also quick to reassure them that there will be an upside for them, making this "sacrifice" for his sake.

gale's power and knowledge and skills as a wizard.

he is useful and he can make himself useful.

your "investment" in him now will be "worth" the return later.

in conclusion, i hope now it's clearer why i felt like i had to bring these two things together. i believe they are clearly interwoven with each other.

also sorry for rambling! this got away from me a bit. 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3 #text: asks #long post for ts

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ggggggfft · 2 years ago

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Have you ever helped detransition someone before, if not outright forced their detransition?

That depends on your definition of “forced.” I would say I have coerced girls into detransitioning, but the ones I’ve toyed with have always wanted to be stripped of their faux masculinity in the most humiliating ways. I give them plenty of opportunities to walk away. To say no and try to abandon this particular kink. But they always - Always come crawling back telling me how drippy are for transphobic porn. How they need Daddy to fuck their little girly pussy and turn them straight. They can’t help it. Craving dominate male seed and obeying their biological urge to reproduce is literally hardwired into their smaller brains. They will always be female first and fakeboys second.

My first experience with detransing was with my ftm girlfriend of several years. He was a she when we first met and started dating and when he finally worked up the courage to transition he only did so socially. I continued fucking his soft, womanly body and playing with his massive tits like nothing had changed, because aside from a few key words and a new name, there was nothing different about her. We were still having straight sex with my cock buried deep inside her slutty testosterone free pussy. She still loved to have her nipples teased and played with and it made her so wet. She was still fertile and could get pregnant at any time. She wasn’t on birth control.

After about two years of being out and still no HRT we began to play with her gender in the bedroom. She liked when I told her to take it like a girl. That I was raping her like a girl. That she would be a good girl for Daddy’s cock and let me use her pussy. In her mind, it was all pretend, playing into her fantasies of being a femboy. For me it was the perfect way to subconsciously train her to enjoy her body as it was. For her to come to terms with her birth sex and accept her womanhood. To go back to being my girlfriend. We broke up and to this day she is still going by he/him pronouns, but she has had no surgeries and while she did recently start hormone therapy she is taking the lowest dose possible. She has a very cute little mustache and gets misgendered every day by strangers, coworkers, and even supportive family members who are fully aware she is trans and has been for years.

We fuck now and then and when we do she asks me to fuck her cunt instead of her ass and get her pregnant. She calls her clitoris her babydick or even her boyclit and the last time we fucked I was testing the waters and called it her clitoris and she said nothing in her defense. Every time I pull her pants off she’s wearing panties and she will “cross dress” if I tell her too. I’ve never come out and told her about my fetish but I feel like part of her must know or at least suspect the truth, and yet she still can’t keep her legs closed around me. She’s my long term project and I hope as her biological clock starts counting down she finally cracks and gives in to what she obviously needs.

What really kicked off my hunt for fakeboys was a girl here on tumblr. I liked her blog description, she was 18, and she had reblogged so many posts begging for transphobic asks and rape threats. I sent her what I now think was a pretty mid dm describing how I’d fix her if she was my daughter and I found her blog. She responded by sending me pics of her shaved teen pussy and begging for more filth. I was hooked after that. She’s now fully addicted to misogyny and incest porn. She’s my good little zoomer slut who I can always hit up for pussy inspections or to make her drink her own piss. She fully accepts that she is a woman in mind, body, and soul, but we agree she should continue hormone treatment because it makes her even more horny and depraved.

She has gone out in a wig and breast forms and dresses in public for me and will sit in cafes with her legs spread and her big red cherry and drooling slick cunt on display for the world to see. She’s terrified of being clocked and actually hate crimed every time, but she just makes such a convincing cis girl that nobody ever notices. As soon as she gets home she gets on cam with me and rubs her clitoris while thanking me for showing her what a dumb tranny she is. I have her crouch in front of the camera and finger herself until she squirts onto her gym clothes for tomorrow. I have her chant that she is not a man. She will never be a man. She is her cunt and cunts are slaves to cock. I have her endlessly repeat that she wants to be a girl because girls are stupid and inferior and get to be dumb, brainless cumrags eating ass and getting fisted all day long while she jackhammers a dildo into her sweaty cunt.

She started out wanting to be misgendered and feminized, but I’m proud to say I broke her. If it doesn’t involve detrans and misogyny, she can’t get off any more. We’ve discussed it and if we were to move in together, with her coming to a new city in a new state where nobody knows her she would definitely detrans for real.

Right now I’m working on a girl who hasn’t come to terms with the reality of her desires. She is also a filthy sex slave but she insists on using those annoying he/they pronouns. She’s entertained the idea of becoming my good girl all the way, but is still reluctant. I get so turned on watching her try to resist her desires but knowing it’s futile in the end. if I want her to be a girl, she will be a girl. End of story.

Last night I had a great session with another ftm who started out being unsure and using he/him, but by 4 in the morning I had her telling me how she wanted my big fat cock to fuck a baby into her in front of her family. How she wants her dad to see his grandson being made. She fell completely in love with her vagina and the pleasure it can bring real men by the end of the night.

I’m waiting to sniff out the perfect gold-star tomboy faildyke to forcibly detrans. I want her to be defiant and tough and mean as hell so that when she’s a fucked out set of holes who only lives to worship men and get pregnant and give birth and has an IQ of 50 and giant plastic tits that victory will feel all the more glorious.

There are others but this post is already so long. If you’d like to make it longer, you can always dm me or send anons if you’re nervous. I love knowing there’s a shy girl behind the screen somewhere frantically rubbing her clit to these asks.

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tricksterpale · 1 month ago

Text

Farewell

It feels strange to write this. I've had this blog for over 10 years now. But the time has come for me to say goodbye.

After much thought and many quiet moments over the 2 year long hiatus spent reflecting, I’ve decided that I’m leaving this account. I’ll leave this blog up, for the sake of memories, for the archives of what was once a vibrant, welcoming place for me and for so many of you. But this will be my last post.

The gw2 fandom here on tumblr in particular, this place that I once cherished and found sanctuary in, no longer feels like a safe and healthy space for me, or for the work I want to share. And so, I find myself at this crossroads, saying goodbye not out of anger or resentment, but out of a quiet need to protect myself and my art.

I will still create. I will still share my work in other spaces, where I can breathe a little easier (and post work that this platform prohibits). But for now, and likely indefinitely, I need to step away from this blog in particular.

The years have not been kind to any of us, have they? The world has tilted in ways we never expected, dragging us all into its churning tides. The world has been harder, scarier, less stable with each passing day. A lot of us have lost things—people, or perhaps just the sense of comfort and security we once took for granted. Some days it's felt like nothing is safe, not even the things that I once believed would always be there.

It’s hard for me to ignore the way the fear, the uncertainty, the instability of the world around us has seemingly seeped into this space as well, turning what once felt like a refuge of comfort into something more toxic. I see the same things happening here that I see out there: endless conflict, divisiveness, quick and damning judgements based on differences of opinion and perspective, walls instead of bridges, cliques, lack of critical thinking, and a constant undercurrent of tension that makes the idea of posting here feel less and less safe for me. It feels as though the tumblr fandom community has become rife with the very things I came here to escape once upon a time. This blog is no longer a place I can find peace in.

These past 5 years in particular have forced me to expand and withdraw in ways I didn’t anticipate. In the beginning when I made this blog, there were the sparks of creativity fanned into blazes, the feeling of being connected to a group of like-minded souls, all of us sharing our love for Guild Wars 2, for art, for storytelling. There were certainly issues, but overall the things that made us different were the same things that brought us together. But as time wore on, it became clear that the fandom had lost something that once felt vital to me. The space became crowded with tension, with a kind of noise I no longer felt equipped to tune out. What once felt like a community that embraced differences in perspectives began to feel like a place where I was on edge, unsure of whether the next post or interaction would be one of support or of conflict.

It’s hard to admit this, but perhaps it’s not just the fandom that has shifted. Perhaps I have, too. The person I was in 2014 isn’t the person I am now, and thank god for that. When I first joined this space, I was looking for connection, for a place to share my work and my passion for Guild Wars. I wanted to be part of something larger than myself. But the world has changed, and so have I. The things that once fed me now leave me feeling hollow, anxious. The echoes of the past still linger, but the resonance isn’t the same. The goals and inspirations I once had feel more like a memory, a forgotten song that no longer moves me or serves me.

This isn’t to say that I regret any of it. I’ve learned so much, about myself and about others. I’ve seen incredible art, met incredible people, and shared moments of joy with many of you. Those things matter. They’ve shaped me in ways I can’t even fully express. But the person I am now can’t exist in the same space I once did. I no longer see the world, or this particular internet corner of the GW2 fandom, through the same lens.

The past five years especially have taught me that change isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes, it’s painful. Sometimes, it’s lonely. But it’s real. And it’s necessary.

My perspective, my sense of what’s important, of what matters, has shifted. The things I once valued here no longer hold the same weight. Like I said, I will leave TricksterPale up. I just will not be posting or logging in here again. For those who know my handle on discord, you can always find me there. You are more than welcome to poke me, even if it's been a long time. But otherwise, you can keep up with my art and musings on my newly created bluesky account from this point forward. I do not have an Instagram or Twitter anymore.

I don’t know what the next chapter looks like, but I know I’m not the same person I was when I first opened this blog. And for that, I’m grateful.

Take care of yourselves, and remember—change is inevitable, but it’s also a chance to grow into something new. Something better. And sometimes, part of that growth is being willing to let go and move on from things that no longer serve you.

#Emmet talks

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offbeat-manga-ships · 19 days ago

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Do you have more fxm romance to recommend? Even better if the guy is masculine I'm a sucked for gap moe

of course! and i hope i'm being right in assuming based on our talk that you would want both straight up femdom and more subdued dom f/sub m dynamics when you say fxm.

—

the first thing that comes to mind is my favorite manwha who deals with the topic of actual bdsm: moral sense (aka love and leashes) [MAL / AL / MU]:

A seemingly clean cut office worker keeps his BDSM sexual fantasies to himself—until he discovers his co-worker a potential dominatrix? As they spend their time together, slowly understanding one another, the two end up having a rather unique master and servant relationship.

ji-hoo might not be the classic example of male lead masculinity we are used to seeing in manwha or manga, but for realistic korean standards, he's pretty much a dreamboat (definitely not in the pretty boy category). i would still say he's cute because i mean, he is a sub. but considering how tall and competent and charming in a every-day good-at-talking way, i'd say he's a prime example of the gap moe you're looking for.

—

going in a different direction, with a manwha that is way more subtle in the role rev/ersal-type of dynamic: agassiwa ureongchonggak (the lady and her butler) [MAL / AL / MU]

Lim Sooha is an independent woman who has it all: a busy career, a brand-new home, and an ever-growing pile of household chores. And the last thing she needs is a man to mess things up. But that all changes when one walks through her front door–literally! Homeless and desperate for a break, Taesoo begs Sooha to let him stay in exchange for keeping house. Tempted by the idea of coming home to a warm meal, clean sheets, and ironed clothes, Sooha agrees after Taesoo shows just how capable he really is…and claims to be gay. Could this be the perfect arrangement, or will Taesoo’s lie and Sooha’s conflicted feelings make a bigger mess?

Taesoo is a big big softie in the muscled tall body of a guy with a sharp sullen face. he's somewhat of a gentle quiet giant, except his character is deeper than that (it's a good manwha!). sooha may be a bit too closed-off to be called a dominant type, but she's no shrinking violet in the relationship either (in portuguese we might say she's just a bit of a 'locked' person, physically speaking to illustrate a particular disposition). i still tagged it as 'role rev' because, especially with this premise, it's something pretty apparent in how they both conduct themselves in their arrangement and relationship. even though i don't tag this one as 'dom f', i'm pretty sure she's still kind of assertive in the relationship in the moments that count. and honestly, i think i read this one before started this blog and it was a bit hard to tag so many manga i had read throughout my life only going by my memory of them. upon a re-read she might very well be dom haha.

—

going back to manga where the girl straight up doms him, we have souiu koto nara, watashi ga. ("if that's the case, then i'll do it") [MAL / AL / MU].

Kana Nagase (28) is the daughter of the company president, and she works as an ordinary office lady at her father's company. She has been in a secret relationship with her boss, Haruhiko Shindo (40), but she was worried that he has yet to make a move on her. (the rest of this synopsis was pretty badly translated, so i'm not including it to confuse folks.)

i don't have that much to say about this one because it's pretty short, but i'm sure it's like what you're looking for. done by a great mangaka who also wrote a manga i have a lot of love for (mori no takuma-san) and one i've been meaning to read for ages! (usotsuki lily. fr i VOW to start this one before the end of the year!!)

—

not sure if you've seen around my blog already, but onnanoko ga daicha dame desu ka? (ladies on top) [MAL / AL / MU] is also a she straights up doms him manga.

Mizuki seems like an ordinary office lady–tidy, cute, quiet, and looking for Mr. Right–but while she yearns for love, she’s left cold by traditional romances where men take the lead. Then, at the age of 24, Mizuki discovers Shinomiya, a seemingly perfect guy at the office who likes aggressive women, and something awakens within her. Together, Mizuki and Shinomiya learn that reversing traditional gender roles can be both liberating and exciting, especially in bed!

i would say he is 'masc' only or mostly in a japanese man kind of way (not to stereotype, but they do have different standards). it's particularly hard for him at first to give in because he is seen as such a successful man very on top of things (ha).

—

i haven't done any edits yet to showcase it, but you can trust me that uri jibe wae wanni (who invited you?) [MAL / AL / MU] perfectly fits into the idea of a dominant girl and submissive guy without even touching on anything close to femdom: it's ye usual korean romcom manwha. one that i really love 🫶

Jade is told that her childhood friend from China is going to stay at her house. Yet, the grown man who arrives at her door is no longer the sweet boy from her distant memories, rather far from it. As she struggles to re-adjust to their new life together, will she rediscover her childhood crush or simply kick him to the curb?

unfortunately some people seem to have a disliking for the female lead in earlier chapters, but i was definitely not one of them. i love when the female lead is wilful maybe to a bit of a forceful, unwelcome (? more to the readers used to subservient always-nice women than the actual guy in question) degree; call it a flaw, i still love it haha i love the way she teases him in this playful but also borderline flirtatious degree and i love the way she thinks he is so cute. now, is he masc? liu yun is a bit more to the softer side (especially after his makeover. what a cute guy), but that gap moe you're after could easily be found here because he is still a closed-off serious person, but when jae gets under his skin there is nothing he can do hahaha i love it. honestly, they might be the couple i would want to get in a relationship with the most.

—

another short one: waka danna wa, konzen koushou dekimasen. (pixie love) [AL / MU]

Masanari Yukimura is master of the hotel Yukitsubaki, which has been in business for 120 years. Being the only heir to the hotel, he needs a wife to start a family with, but there's a problem… he's so sensitive that the slightest tactile sensation gets him hard and coming. He's so afraid to scare girls away that he never gets very far with them. Meanwhile, the pixie who's been guardian of the hotel all these years decides she's the only one who can help him… by getting him used to touch!! A hot romcom with an uptight hotel master and a gorgeous-but-inexperienced pixie.

in terms of the sex scenes, i'm a huge fan of the way it starts: she really, really doms him and it's so satisfying to see this older proper guy be so undone by her hands. by the end, he's a bit more assertive during sex, but considering it was during particular scenes where he wanted to prove his feelings for her, i didn't really mind it, even though i missed the form of the early action. but he's still pretty vulnerable to his feelings for her and it's cute to see a man like him be in love so i thought i'd mention it.

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in ojou-sama ga mamorasete kurenai (my lady won't let me protect her) [MAL / AL / MU], a young lady is what people would call very competent and suave and princely and she's so good at being her own dashing superhero her bodyguard is vexed but also in love with her. read this a long while ago and wished the author would have done a bit more romance-wise, but i think it was still a nice read.

Ichika Kiryuin is the only daughter of a large corporation while Hayama Shuzuku was born into the Samurai family, that worked as bodyguards for generations and was taught to live only as a disposable shield. Hayama was ready to guard and protect Ichika, but as it turns out, Ichika, who has a strong physique, will be the one protecting him!

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i haven't been able to finish seishun no hekireki (a sudden incident in my youth) [MAL / AL / MU] but as far as i read, it's pretty much consistent that she is the dominant one in this relationship whether they are in their original bodies or body-swapped:

"If I'm not attracted to the things that most girls are attracted to… Is there something wrong with me?" Amane Shizuku has been worried about a possible sexual frigidity. She can fall in love with men, she's even dated some of them, but when things were about to go to the next level, her heart didn't throb at all. Due to this matter, she was about to give up on love, but when she meets the popular Kouki, her world changes… literally!!

he's a typical dashing high school cool guy, but she def shows him who's boss lmao

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if you're in the mood for straight up smut/borderline H (aimed at women), there is also agassiwa maid (lady & maid) [AL / MU]

An enormous fortune, a beautiful sprawling estate, and five adoring male maids… what more could a gal wish for? Yeon-Hwa Lee is living out every girl's fantasy when she suddenly inherits her grandfather's estate, including his five loyal servants. Bom and Yeong-Ho are so cute and adorable, Alexander is buff and sexy, while Won-Hu and Edward are elegant and cool. Their only desire is to service their mistress… and Yeon-Hwa simply can't resist.

yes, she fucks literally all of them as it's a harem manga, but it doesn't have any "final choice" as they're all her lovers. some of them are fem and some of them are masc and as said, this is just an ero manwha.

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now for another one of my absolute favs, takane to hana (takane & hana) [MAL / AL / MU]

Sixteen-year-old Hana Nonomura is forced to be the substitute for her older sister Yukari at a miai: a meeting between two people considering an arranged marriage. Hana's prospective suitor turns out to be the handsome heir of the wealthy Takaba company, Takane Saibara, who is 10 years her senior. He promptly shows disdain toward Hana and, in response, she tells him that she is equally unimpressed by his status and personality. Hana believes that her actions at the meeting should have put an end to the discussions about marriage with Takane. To her surprise, not only does the man want to proceed with negotiations but he also starts to show interest in her! This is just the beginning of a special relationship between two polar opposites!

this manga NEVER drops the ball. this tall rich and handsome business guy is an absolute sub and this tiny & funny high school girl is an absolute dom. both in a very comedic, but very present way. this man absolutely thrives under and loves hana's upper hand on him, even if he thinks like he wants to win (he is described by the author herself as an M who thinks he is an S). her absolute disdain at his immature quips and she way she puts him in his place was what sparked his interest in her. not in a virgin raise wa tanin ga ii kinda way, but in a chad takane to hana way hahaha it also never touches on actual dominance and submission but it still surprised me how hana at one point has a conundrum of the clash between being in a vulnerable state of being In Love but also maintaining her dominant position (because don't get me wrong, they both get off on it). and macacos me mordam, she actually DOES keep it. her way of accepting it and him into her life is still very Hana and i don't know how to look at what they have without it being through a dominant/submission and sometimes s/m lens.

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another shoujo i absolutely love (and is way, way shorter): beast master [MAL / AL / MU]

Leo Aoi looks like a crazy animal with wild eyes, and he goes berserk whenever he feels threatened and sees blood. That doesn't stop animal-lover Yuiko Kubozuka from befriending him, however. In fact, Yuiko is the only person Leo will listen to when he has one of his violent fits…

leo is pretty terrifying and violent when he goes berserk, but he is also a soft, nice boy who pretty much adopts yuiko as his 'master' (in an informal, unsaid way). she is a very chill girl and i love the way she shows him affection, even while they are still friends. while it's something not unlike friendships in my country, it's still kind of rare for japanese characters. it makes him absolutely besotted with her and devoted.

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you've already found this one, but it bears repeating that narita-kun wo semetai! (i want to be aggressive towards narita!) [MAL / AL / MU] has plenty of domf/subm moments between the leads (and narita is very much a cool high school boy in appearance)

Amane Fukatsu, a 2nd year high school girl, is an otaku whose hobby is posting her BL manga creations on social media. One day, she stumbles upon Narita-kun, a popular guy from another class, being attacked by a cat (?). Witnessing this scene of gap-moe, Amane is struck by inspiration…?! A cool otaku girl takes the initiative to relentlessly pursue a popular guy! A new-age romantic comedy filled with laughter and heart-warming moments.

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in o! naui wangjanim (oh! my prince AKA oh! my pharaoh) [MAL / AL / MU] the domf/subm vibes are not completely visible in the beginning, but by the time the guy is head-over-heels, it's clear as day who's the dominant one in the relationship. (there are no good synopsis for this one so have two of them to piece together what this is about haha)

The prodigy who took the world by storm, resigned just after joining the school! Fluent in eight languages from a tender age and capable at everything, he passed the judicial examination while still attending high school, and was dubbed "the Genius of Geniuses." However, there was only one thing this genius did not possess—proper parenting. One day, he got hurdled into a gang fight with a group of rowdy students, and didn't manage to dodge a direct blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat and thus fainted. When he came to, he realized that he was, unexpectedly, in Egypt?! Ancient Egypt: to be able to reign in a world where women are nothing, she stole the identity of her brother, the prince. With such a lie, to reign or to love, it will be necessary to decide! When his tutor arrives in his life, the meeting is electric. He has a big advantage: he comes from the future and knows the whole history of the kingdom perfectly!

i'm also obsessed with the way she is a bit of a lo/li (not really, she's initially a teen) who looks like a sho/ta who looks like a lo/li. i love when girls look like very beautiful kind of feminine boys (and when boys look like beautiful girls of course haha but for girls it's a bit rarer).

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i know you probably have come across this one already, but i want to give a shout-out to sunjeongmalgo sunjong (act like you love me!) [ MAL / AL / MU]

25-year-old Ji-Eon is stressed, overworked, and penniless. When a mix-up at a temp job has her spending a day as famous actor Do-Yun Nam’s personal assistant, she takes her anger out on a doll… which turns out to have the magical ability to control him at her every whim. Now it’s her turn to be the boss.

i actually wavered a bit on whether to tag jieon as 'dom f' or not. i think i did in the end because she is still very much in charge of the relationship at all points and even if she mostly sweeps him off his feet without realizing, i think she also has plenty of assertive moments. also, i swear to god.. (SPOILER)i literally said on a comment that it's bloody coward that the author hasn't shown them using the doll (who makes him do whatever she says) for sex yet and then LITERALLY A FEW CHAPTERS LATER they actually do use the doll for sex!! (though we can't see the scene, it's a romcom manga). jieon canonically sexually dominates doyun so like!!!(END SPOILER). but yeah even with this 'is jieon a dom-type?' wobble, rest assured. if there ever was a submissive guy, this one is it lmao. and he's the bratty mad-about-it type!

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this one i actually haven't read yet: gwiyeoun yasunim! (my cute beast) [MAL / AL / MU]

As the saying goes - never judge a book by its cover. Da-Im is a lovely elementary school teacher, as well as a savage who can rip anyone apart with the fiercest comebacks. On-Gyum is a florist with a heart of gold, who often gets misunderstood because of his intimidating looks. But as incompatible as they seem, their shared love of cats starts pulling the unlikely pair closer together… Here comes an upbeat romantic comedy between a sassy bunny and a sweet beast!

i always see this one around when looking for dom f/sub m/role rev manga and i'm always on the brink of reading this but i always start something else lmaoo. i'll get to this soon!

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well this is what i have for now! hope i managed to rec something to your liking. thanks again for talking to me so much the other day. i fr don't really have anyone to talk about manga with, i'm kinda relying on you guys loll thank you for delivering once in a while 😌

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