#I'VE NEVER SEEN ANY GEAR WITH THAT BEFORE

[wereh0gz]

WAIT SINCE WHEN COULD YOU HAVE CAT PAWS IN SPLATOON

[just-some-user-hunny]

The Cannibal dragon headcanons ...

(art credit for middle image, ig: dracalyss)

. Cannibal is a huge dragon, the largest of all wild-dragons, but I can't see him being any larger than Vhagar- let alone Balerian the black dread. I imagine he'd be a tad bit smaller than Vhagar- just about. His build is bulky and scarred, a thick neck of scarred obsidian scales, a set of jagged jet-black spikes that run along his spine, and covered in thick taut muscle and hardened flesh. His eyes are a blazing emerald green, teeth sharp and jagged like a shark.

. I also love the idea of him having this 'grinning' look on his face, like a crocodile or the indoraptor from Jurassic world. (His personality screams indoraptor to me, just a mean guy with a nasty lil goblin grin). And with his torn jaw and exposed teeth, it makes him look even creepier and menacing. There's something way too...human about it. Expressive in both his grin and mannerisms.

He's definitely a stare-er too. Something about a monstrously big dragon being unnervingly quiet and observing is uncomfortable, which is exactly the vibes he gives off.

. I like to visualize him as a very 'wild' looking dragon, like how'd you imagine a stray feral cat. His scales are rough and weather-worn, covered in large claw-like scars from fighting and hunting other dragons throughout his life. There's also fanart of him missing a huge chunk of flesh around his jaw and mouth, baring his teeth, which I think looks really cool :) as a young dragon he probably picked off the small and easy dragons, ones that wouldn't put up much of a fight. But as he grew in age and size, he would probably grow cocky and try his luck with larger prey. Due to him being an absolute monster, I'd imagine he'd often come up on top- but not without earning a few disfiguring scars in return.

. Despite never being bonded to a rider before, nor being ridden before in his life (he'd scoff at the mere thought of some little measly human thinking that they could climb upon his back and treat him like a pony), once he bonded with you it was like an instant connection. He is still a little edgy and unpredictable, but there is one thing for certain and that is he is always as gentle as possible with you. He'll press his body into the dirt if it allows you to climb on and off safely, craning his claws and jaw for you to step upon.

. He wouldn't wear a saddle, so you'd have to learn to ride him bareback. Thankfully he has many jagged scales and spikes to cling onto, but to be on the safe side, you'd have special riding gear to wear to help cling on. Rougher gloves and boots and trousers, it certainly helps, even if it's just a little. If anything the fact you ride bareback is a testament of your bond, showing how close and in sync you both are.

. The biggest issue with him would be his... diet, and how he'd have to adapt once he begins to hang around dragonstone more often. I'd imagine he wouldn't eat much, adding to the unpredictability of him and when he would hunt, but as his rider you'd have to supply him at least livestock every week to keep him happy and saturated. Cows, horses, large livestock due to his sheer size.

. He flies quite similar to Vhagar. His form is heavy, and although strong, he is lumbering.

Although at his age now he'd be a rather ancient dragon, he wouldn't really show his age besides a few moments where he just wants to curl up in his little cave upon his ✨private island ✨ to take a nap. In his youth he was most likely a very quick dragon, like a stalking panther striking upon his food. (Being younger dragons and hatchlings). I've seen someone write about him being a silent hunter (I'll reblog and credit once I find them), but that's such a neat idea for his character! He's survived from hunting his own kind, so he's going to hunt differently. Smarter.

. His fire in the books is described as green, and that's just too cool to swap it out with normal fire. Blazing emerald flames that engulf earth and prey, unnatural and mystical. It'd be very distinctive as well, whoever finds their fields or flocks of trees burning and crackling in a blaze of green fire, they'd know that the cannibal had just been there.

. Personality wise, I feel like he'd be cruel and sadistic, but wise and grumpy. Probably cocky as well, for having survived on his for so long and through unconventional means.

He's not a hardheaded bully, he's very tactical when it comes to facing challenges, but at this point he's such a huge threat he may be blinded by his own ego and emotions. If something were to happen to his rider, he'd make sure you'd get avenged. He's ride or die, quite literally. He'll burn everything down for you, because he feels strongly for the one human he feels he can trust. His grief is not silent or tearful, it's angry.

[s0urw00lf]

Protectors: wolf’s bane

A Derek hale x reader story

Summary: y/n, Derek and stiles were tasked with finding out who it was that sent Allison the message that night in the school.

“Faster?” She asked checking her rearview mirror

"Much faster" Stiles replied looking out the back window at some hunter who was hot tailing them in Derek's car.

Y/n switched gears and pressed down a little bit more on the gas, "and he said id never step foot in the drivers seat" y/n muttered to herself.

"Y/n im not sure you're quite grasping the concept of a car chase" stiles said looking back.

"If she goes any faster it'll kill us" Scott said from the back, as y/n looked through her rearview mirror

"well if she doesn't they're gonna kill us" stiles argued back. He had a point so y/n pressed down harder on the gas's pedal.

Stiles kept looking back "hey they're gone" he said, making y/n check her mirrors again and she slowed down a little bit.

Stiles bought out a radio that y/n guessed belonged to his father. 'All units, suspect is in foot heading into the ironworks' the sheriff said. Y/n sighed speeding back up, quickly arriving at the location, stopping when she saw Derek crouching behind a machine. 'Get in' stiles said opening the door and hopping in the back. Someone from above them began firing shots at them and y/n was quick to pull off before he could even close the door.

"What part of laying low don't you understand?" Scott scolded from the backseat.

"Damnit i had him" Derek said ignoring Scott's comment.

"Who the alpha?" Stiles asked. "Yes! He was right in front of me but then the friggin police showed up" Derek said aggrieved.

"Woah, hey they're just doing their jobs" stiles was quick to defend and Derek practically glared him back into his seat

"yeah thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the entire state!" Derek said now glaring at Scott.

"Can we seriously get passed that? i made a dumb ass mistake, i get it but y/n didn't say anything" Scott whined.

"Hey i was in the middle of keeping you two plus the three additions alive while trying not to think about my boyfriend who was lying dead in the school parking lot. So excuse me for not being all that rational" y/n said defensively

"alright!" Stiles shouted from the back to shut everyone up.

"How did you find him?" Stiles asked.

Derek looked between Scott and stiles and shook his head brushing off the question. "Can you try to trust us for at least half a second?" Scott asked

"yeah both of us" stiles added, earning another glare from Derek.

"Come on der, share with the class" y/n muttered lowly, knowing everyone in the car heard.

"The last time i talked to my sister she was close to figuring something out, she found two things. First a guy named Harris-"

"our chemistry teacher?" Stiles asked interrupting Derek.

"Why him?" Scott questioned

"I don't know yet" Derek said

"and what's the second?" Scott asked.

"This symbol" Derek said as he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and showed it to the two, as y/n had already known this bit of information.

Scott made a face that y/n caught through the mirror, "what? You know what that is?" She asked.

"I've seen it. On a necklace" He trailed off. Derek looked at him in confusion before Scott finished off his statement "Allison's necklace"

——————————-

" this is gonna be impossible you know" Scott says to y/n and stiles as they walk through the entrance of the school.

"Why don't you just ask her if you can borrow it?" Stiles asks.

"And how is he supposed to do that?" Y/n asked.

"Easy ' hey, Allison can I borrow your necklace? To see if there's anything on it or in it? That can lead me to an alpha werewolf that i need to kill in order to get back together with you'" Stiles says. Scott smacks his chest "dude you're not helping" he says.

Stiles points to y/n "why cant you just ask to borrow it? You know girl code or whatever." Stiles asks waiving his arms in his usual manner.

Y/n looked at him as if he'd grown two heads "you want me to ask to borrow an heirloom that currently lies in the hands of someone I'm not even sure likes me, keep in mind said family hates me the previous owner especially, and if by chance i was to be seen with said heirloom id be shot in the heart with an wolfsbane laced arrow? No thanks" y/n said shaking her head before walking off.

A little later y/n came across Scott being threatened by Jackson, she groaned quietly stomping her foot before she walked up and grabbed him by his shoulder "hiya Jackson, i seem to recall where you got this little... scratch from" she said, pulling down the neck of his jacket slightly to get a better view of it.

"You don't happen to want another one do ya?" She asked in a sickly sweet tone.

Jacksons face mirrored someone who'd seen a ghost as he shook his head no. "Oh no? Well id suggest you run along then hmm?" She said pushing him forward and he hurried away.

"So he knows huh?" She asked folding her arms leaning against the lockers.

"Yeah" Scott said, looking worried. "Well let's hope I'm not assigned to him" she muttered walking away.

———————

Y/n followed stiles to where Scott was sitting at the lunch table, separating only so she could sit across from them.

“did you get it?" Stiles asked as he sat down.

"Not exactly" Scott answered, shaking his head

"Well what happened?" Y/n questioned as she sat her backpack on the ground behind her and plucked her phone out of one of the pockets.

"She told me not to talk to her at all" he said defeated.

Stiles took a huge bite of his chicken tender "so she's not giving you the neck-"

"she's not giving me the necklace" scott confirmed.

Y/n placed her head in her hand. "Scott what the hell did you do" she said, lightly banging her head on the table feeling defeated.

“I showed her photos of us from when we were together.” He stated as if it was obvious.

Y/n’s eyes widened in shock and slowly lifted her head up to look at Scott. “You did what?!” She all but shouted.

Scott and stiles looked at her confused.

She dropped her head to her hands and dragged them through her hair. “Scott she already feels bad for breaking up with you. Showing her those photos was just about the dumbest thing you could’ve done. Not only for the necklace but for your relationship.” She explained.

Scott groaned, letting his head fall back. “Okay well did you find anything else out?” Stiles asked still chewing his food.

Scott sighed “just that i know nothing about girls and that they’re completely psychotic.” Scott said defeated

“That’s high school for ya” y/n muttered.

”okay, well i came up with with a plan b just in case anything like this happened” stiles said

”what’s plan b?

“just steal the stupid thing” stiles said

”that’s what i thought he was gonna do in the first place” y/n said as she checked her phone for any messages from Derek

“can we try to at least get to Harris?” Scott asked, seemingly wanting to weigh out his options.

stiles shook his head “my dad put him under a 24-hour protective detail okay the necklace is all we got, steal it. Thank you.” He replied

scott sighed in defeat meeting y/n’s eye from across the table as she began packing up her things “look it shouldn’t be that hard, you’re a werewolf for god-sake just steal the damn thing” she said, standing up and walking out of the lunchroom.

——[time skip]——

When the last bell of the day rang, y/n met up with stiles, whom she'd asked for a ride since 1. Derek wasn’t supposed to be anywhere on school grounds at the moment, and 2. She wanted to see Noah before he went off to the parent teacher conference, which she didn’t have the best feeling about.

Y/n walked in stiles room, immediately sensing Derek’s presence, she looked at him in irritation “what the hell de-“ but the sound of Noah calling out for stiles cuts her off

“hey stiles!”

“yo da-erek” stiles faltered.

Derek's eyes widened and guestered for stiles to deal with his dad who was just outside the door.

Y/n listened to the exchange between the two stillinakis completely forgetting her intentions for coming as she stared at her careless boyfriend.

"What'd you say?"

"What? I said yo... D-Dad'."

"Uh, listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"Uh, listen, I've got something I've got to take care of, but I'm gonna be there tonight. I mean, your first game."

"I'm very happy for you. And I'm really proud of you."

"Oh, thanks. Me too. I'm happy and proud... Of myself."

"So they're really gonna let you play, right?"

Yeah, dad. I'm first line. Believe that?"

"I'm very proud."

"Oh, me too. Again, I'm- oh." Noah goes to hug Stiles. "Huggie... Huggie, huggie..." Stiles trailed off awkwardly patting his dads back

“Alright see you there,” Noah said pulling away from his son

”take it easy” Stiles responded

Noah nodded, walking away before pausing “y/n how about coming to say hello next time” he said, and then took his leave.

y/n sighed as her memory had been re jogged

Stiles entered the room again letting out a sigh of relief as he closed the door, only to be pinned to it by Derek, y/n was quick to put herself between the two “Hey, cool it alright” she warned putting some distance between them.

She could handle the jabs all day long but as soon as it began to get handsy she wasn’t going to tolerate it. Y/n decided it was okay for her to move now and settled down on Stiles's bed. Derek quickly looks from y/n to Stiles and points to him

“if you say one word-“ he began but was quickly off by Stiles

“oh, what, you mean like hey Dad Derek hales in my bedroom bring your gun?” He asked sarcastically.

Derek doesn't say anything at his remark, realizing just how ridiculous it sounded. Stiles took that as his cue to keep going “Yeah that’s right, if I'm harboring your fugitive ass that means it's my house, my rules buddy” he said back handing Derek’s shoulder.

Derek nodded in response and fixed Stiles’ jacket, and Stiles did the same to him with a goofy grin on his face and walked away but jumped when Derek fake lunged

“oh my god!”

y/n let a laugh slip through her lips at Derek’s antics.

“Scott didn’t get the necklace?” Derek asked

”no he’s still working on it, but there’s something else we can try” Stiles answered

Catching both y/n and Derek’s attention, as she hadn’t known any of what he was talking about, Derek made a ‘what’ gesture telling him to elaborate.

“The night we were trapped at the school, Scott sent a text to Allison asking her to meet him there,” Stiles said

”So?”

”So, Scott didn’t send it,” y/n said, slowly catching on to what Stiles was saying

”well can you find out who did?” Derek asked

“No not us, but I think I know of someone who can,” he said

—————

“you want me to do what?” Danny asked baffled

“Trace a text,” Stiles said casually ” I came here to do lab work-- that's what lab partners do.”

”And we will! ...Once you trace the text.”

“And what makes you think I know how?” Danny asked fidgeting slightly

“I had him look up your arrest report, so–“ y/n cut in

”I-I was thirteen. They dropped the charges.” Danny said defensively

“Whatever,” Stiles said pitching his voice up a few octaves

.“No, we're doing lab work.” Danny stated.

He then grabs a stool from somewhere near y/n and pulls it up beside Stiles, sitting down and looking at the computer.

Y/n watched Danny in amusement as he looked back to Derek who sat in a chair next to her, fake reading a book.

“Uh- who is he again?” He asked

“My cousin… Miguel” Stiles said, the laugh y/n almost let out would’ve had Derek death staring at her, so she decided against it

”he’s also my boyfriend, cute one isn’t he?” y/n asked teasingly

Danny nodded slightly “I guess,” he said feeling uncomfortable

Looking back at him y/n finally noticed the dried blood on his shirt, but before she Could cover it from Danny’s wandering eyes he spoke up

“is that blood on his shirt?” He asked

Stiles whipped around to see and Y/n winced, “Yeah, yes. Well, he gets this horrible nose bleeds” Stiles explained, y/n had never been prouder at how quick Stiles was to come up with a line than at that moment.

“Hey, Miguel?” Stiles said, turning to Derek. Derek lifted his head with a glare dead set on stiles. “I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts,” he said, gesturing to his dresser.

y/n watched in amusement as Derek slammed the book shut and began to take off his shirt, walk towards the dresser, and grumpily rummage through it for a shirt

”uh stiles”

“yes”

” This… no fit!” He said as he tugged at the shirt irritably

”then try something else on” Stiles stated obviously

y/n then got up and pulled a shirt out handing it to him with a small smile on her face, Derek squinted his eyes but pulled the shirt over his head

”Hey, this looks pretty good, what do you think Danny,” y/n asked turning to Danny who was not so discretely eyeing Derek

”Huh?”

”the shirt” Stiles confirms catching on to y/ns game

” It uh- it's not really his color” he answered timidly

“I agree,” y/n said inspecting the the shirt with a fake frown

Derek glared between Stiles and y/n before pulling off the shirt.

Y/n saw Stiles turn the computer to Danny

”you swing for a different team but you still play ball don’t ya Danny boy?”

”you’re horrible people”

”We know it keeps us awake at night, anyway about that text”

“Stiles! None of these fit!” Derek seethed frustrated

Stiles just looked from Derek to Danny with wide eyes

“I'll need the ISP, the phone number, and the exact time of the text,” Danny said making Stiles lean back and throw his arms up in a quiet celebration

Y/n paced stiles while she waited for Danny to retrieve the information they needed

“There. The text was sent from a computer. This one.” Danny said making y/n walk behind them and peer over their shoulders

“Registered to that account name?” Derek asked

“No, no, no, no. That can't be right.”

Y/n frowned in confusion at the name she read on the computer

‘Melissa McCall’

——

“Did you get the picture?” Scott asked, voice ringing through the car as Stiles had him on speakerphone

” Yeah, I did, and it looks just like the drawing.

“Hey, is there something on the back of it?” Derek asked after nearly yanking stiles arm so he could bring the phone closer to him

“I mean there's gotta be something-- an inscription, an opening, something…” y/n said from the back seat

“No, no, the thing's flat. And, no, it doesn't open. There's nothing in it, on it, around it, nothing. And where are you? You're supposed to be here. You're first line.” Scott said to Stiles, and just as his sentence finished y/n heard coach in the background

“Where the hell is Bilinski???”

“Man, you're not gonna play if you're not here to start…”

“I know. Look, if you see my dad, can you tell him... tell him I'll be there, I'll just be a little bit late, okay? All right, thanks.”

“You're not gonna make it,” Y/n said grimly. She knew how happy he was when he got first line, and how happy Noah was for him

“I know,” Stiles responded with the same emotion

“And you didn't tell him about his mom, either,” Derek said

“Not 'til we find out the truth.”

“By the way? One more thing…”

“Yeah?”

Derek grabbed the back of stiles neck and rammed his head into the steering wheel

“Oh, God! What the hell was–“

“You know that was for. Go. Go!” Derek said, rushing Stiles out of the car.

he then looked back at y/n who raised her brows, “you wouldn’t dare” she said in a challenging tone.

“Oh just you wait” he replied with a smirk. Y/n raised her brows challengingly, making her way out of the car but Derek grabbed her arm

”where are you going?” He asked

” With Stiles, god forbid but if the alpha is in there he’s gonna need some sort of help” she explained

Derek faltered, “Just, just be careful ok?” He said

y/n smiled lovingly “Always am,” she said before closing the door

———

the pair had been walking around the hospital for 10 minutes

”yeah I said I can't find her,” Stiles said

”look, ask for Jennifer, she’s my uncle's nurse” Derek replied over the phone

”well he’s not here either-“ stiles said, making y/n look into the room in confusion \

”shit, stiles we gotta go. Now!” Y/n shouted just as Derek had confirmed her suspicions of Peter being the alpha.

Y/n looked to the side only to come face to face with Peter Hale.

“Good to see you y/n,” he said before looking over to Stiles” and you must be Stiles”

Y/n grabbed Stiles’ arm and began rushing away only to be stopped by Jennifer, peters nurse

”what are you doing here, visiting hours are over,” she said menacingly

stiles began to look back and forth between Peter and Jennifer “You.. and him… you’re-you’re the one who- and oh my- and he’s— oh, my god, I'm gonna die.” He said

“You aged beautifully” y/n sarcastically muttered to Peter

Y/n pushed him aside, just as Derek came behind her and punched the nurse unconscious

” That’s not nice, she's my nurse,” Peter said fainting a sad tone

“She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people, get out of the way”

”you think I killed Laura on purpose? One of my own family?”

This set Derek off as he jumped at his uncle, who threw him into a wall.

Y/n wasn’t far behind, she sent a swift kick to Peter's stomach, knocking him off his feet. He was quick to regroup and grabbed y/n by her arm, flipped her over, and knocked her into the wall, much like he did that night in the school.

He then went over and picked Derek, (who struggled against his grip) up by his neck and began to drag him “My mind, my personality, were burned out of me. I was being driven by pure instinct.” He said before he dropped him.

“So what, you want forgiveness?” Y/n groaned from behind him kicking his feet from under him just as Derek sent a punch to his face.

Peter was back on his feet in seconds, grabbing Derek by his collar“ I want understanding.” He said before headbutting him and landing a kick to his stomach, sending him rolling back

“Do you have any idea what it was like for me during those years? Slowly healing, cell by cell?” He asked turning to y/n who stood ready.

He sent a kick her way but y/n dodged it, catching his foot and knocking him off balance with hers, she then got on top of hem and sent punch after punch to his face, just as she went to throw another, he caught her fist and headbutted her kicking her into the office desk so hard that it knocked her unconscious.

——

When she woke up she was face to face with a worried stiles

“Oh thank god, I though I was gonna have to hit you” he said

Y/n groaned at her ponding head, she looked around and frowned when she didn’t see Derek or Peter

Stiles must have seen it on her face because he immediately answered the question in her head

“He left with Peter” he said

Y/n frowned as tears came to her eyes, she was in a woozy state of mind and felt upset about Derek leaving and the pounding headache she had.

Y/n’s number one problem was how emotional she was when she was in pain.

Stiles panicked, having never expected to see his sister in this state of mind. He grabbed her and bought her in for a hug, telling her that everything was okay.

“Why’d he leave?” She asked sniffling, after a couple of minutes of slowly coming back to her right mind.

Stiles sighed beside her, now his arm rested on her shoulder “I don’t know” he said, wondering the same thing

[ghost-in-the-hall]

The Mouse and The Bear (König x Reader)

(A/N: I'm too drunk to proofread this rn, I tried to keep this GN but it might've ended up being a fem! Reader. I'll come back and fix this later lol

Warnings: Swearing, mention of death, mention of injury, slightly angsty but not really, lots of fluff)

"Don't look now, but I think someone has their eye on you." Soap says with a smirk as he walks up next to you in the kitchen. You rolled your eyes in response, knowing that meant any moment now you were going to have some annoying asshole approaching you.

"Spare me." You say under your breath, Soap just laughs in response as he finishes pouring his coffee and heads off. You picked up your lunch, going to find somewhere to sit where hopefully whoever decided you were their new love interest would leave you alone. You were met with a sight you didn't expect. Instead of the usual bombardment of unwanted flirting you caught the almost nervous gaze of KorTac's gentle giant. The second he realized you caught him looking, his eyes snapped down to the mug in front of him. You hadn't had a lot of interaction with König but the few you had he had been nothing but pleasant.  A soft smile finds its way to your lips as you start heading in his direction. "Hey König." You greet him pleasantly, "is this seat taken?" He shakes his head, a look of pure disbelief in his eyes over the fact you were standing in front of him. You slide into the chair opposite him. Normally if there was someone at base checking you out you wouldn't bother indulging their infatuation but König made you curious.

"I'm sorry for staring." He admits immediately, acting like a child getting caught doing something they're not supposed to.

"König I'm not mad." You reassure him.

"It's still rude… I know how much I hate it when people stare at me." He seemed to relax slightly now that he knew you weren't upset with him. Before you could ask him why he was looking at you he answered the question on his own. "I've never seen you without your gear on… I never realized how small you are- not that it's a bad thing of course! I know you're more than capable of handling yourself-"

"König," you cut him off before his rambling got him too flustered "it's okay." You smile at him and he shifts awkwardly in his seat. This was the first time you really allowed yourself to look at him. Bright blue eyes looking anywhere besides at you, he hunched over the table in an attempt to make himself look smaller and less threatening. "Du brauchst keine Angst vor mir zu haben." (You don't need to be afraid of me.) You joke in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"You speak German?" He sounded shocked.

"A little, I used to live in Berlin when I was younger." You explain. He nods, leaning forward slightly to give you his undivided attention as you speak. You sat and talked with him for a while, you definitely couldn't complain about the company. He was very attentive, asking you questions that prompted you to keep talking. He had a loud, boisterous laugh that made your heart soar everytime you coaxed it out of him

"Mick, we got takedown training, let's go." Your time with him was cut short by Price informing you to head down to the base's gym.

"I'll be right there." You call back. You turn your attention back to König, who was fidgeting with his mug again. "This was nice, thank you for the company." You smile at him, nervous eyes moving down to the table.

"Maybe… maybe we could do this again sometime?" He asks softly.

"Are you asking me on a date?" You retort immediately. His eyes snap up to you, already trying to stammer out a response in his flustered state. You giggle, reaching out and placing one of your hands on top of his, which looked child sized compared to his. "If we ever have downtime together I would love to." He nods, giving you a quiet goodbye as you cleaned up the table and prepared to head to training. You were unable to keep the dumb grin off your face for the rest of the day.

A few days later you found yourself in the kitchen again. You groaned internally as a high pitch whistle met your ears. "You come around here often sweetheart?" You recognized him, some obnoxious Private that often got in trouble for disrespecting the chain of command. He wasn't worth the energy, you just kept going about what you were doing prior to his interruption. "Maybe you didn't hear me," he tries to sound threatening. He steps uncomfortably close to you, "I asked you a question."

"You really shouldn't be speaking to a Sergeant that way." The Private turned, ready to cuss out whoever had interrupted his terrible attempt at picking you up. You saw all the color drain from his face at the sight before him. You couldn't stop yourself from breathing out a laugh. The Private slowly starts to back up with every heavy footstep that echoed through the kitchen. König steps in front of you, blocking off your pursuer. "Are you alright?" He glances back over his shoulder at you. You nod and his attention immediately turns back to the Private. "I suggest you get out of here kotzbrocken (lump of puke) before I tell your superior officer that you were getting aggressive with a Sergeant." As if on cue his Captain entered the kitchen. König very calmly explained the situation to him, the Captain grabbing his subordinate by the collar and pulling him off.

"Do you want to fucking die? Because messing with her is a good way to get there." You hear him angrily mutter to the Private as he pulls him out of the room.

"You're sure you're alright?" He asks in a much gentler tone than he was using before.

"I'm fine König, thank you." You smile at him, turning back to what you were doing before you were interrupted. You groaned as you looked through the cabinet. "He always does this to me, he knows I can't reach that shelf." You stood on your toes, struggling to reach your favorite mug that you knew Ghost put on the top shelf on purpose. König reached over you, grabbing the mug with ease before lowering it into your hands. You turned to thank him only to be startled slightly by his close proximity. You knew he was a big man, being 6'10, there wasn't anything about him that was small. But you had never witnessed your height difference with him this close up. You stood about his stomach height, the nearly 2 foot difference causing you to have to look straight up to see his mask covered face. Seeing your flustered appearance he quickly stepped back.

"Sorry, I just figured I'd have an easier time reaching it." He says bashfully.

You swallowed thickly, the mug in your hands becoming the most interesting thing in the room at the moment. "It's alright, I appreciate the help." You start making the tea you had originally come in here for, both of you sitting in silence. You didn't have to look up at him to know that König had his eyes on you. He was leaning up against the counter a couple feet away from you, just studying your movements as you flit around the kitchen. You hear König chuckle, your eyes drifting over to him. "What's so funny?" You ask him with a smile

"Don't take this as an insult, but you remind me of a mouse. You're so small and fast." You both laugh at his joke, he wasn't wrong.

"I mean, I don't have the codename Mickey for nothing." He studies you for a moment, you could tell he was thinking about whether or not he should say something.

"Would it be okay if I called you Maus?" He asks quietly. Normally you would object to someone calling you that. But hearing it from König, his deep voice that paired so wonderfully with his accent, you loved the way it sounded coming from him.

"I wouldn't be opposed… but only you get to call me that." You see the corners of his eyes crinkle in a smile.

"Deal." You searched through the fridge, finding a container of leftovers you had cooked the other night.

"Would you like to join me for lunch?" You ask, holding up the container.

"I would love to." It became a ritual for the two of you to have lunch together. You enjoyed the fact that he was company outside of your team and the usual annoying flirts around the base. Even though you hated to admit it, you had found yourself rather smitten with the Austrian giant. König was kind, but never in a way that made you think he was only being nice to you because you were cute. He was always making you laugh, cracking small jokes and telling you stories. He loved to see you smile, it was one of his favorite parts of his day.

"Good morning Maus." You smile as you hear König enter the kitchen behind you. You pull down a secondary mug from the cabinet.

"Good morning Bärchen." You greet him softly as you pour him a cup of coffee alongside yours. You hear him chuckle as he approaches you.

"Bärchen, huh? Mouse and Bear, that seems pretty fitting." He nods his thanks as you handed him his coffee. "Ready for the debriefing today?" Price had informed you yesterday that Task Force 141 and KorTac were going to be teaming up together for a mission. You were more than happy to work alongside them, the whole team was incredible. But you were still worried. 

"As ready as I'll ever be." You sigh, taking a long sip of your drink. "Just… promise me, wherever we end up tomorrow, that you'll be careful." You couldn't look at him. The fear you were feeling in your chest, it was too real of an emotion for you. You weren't going to say that you were never scared to go on a mission, that would be a lie. This however was new, you had another person besides yourself to be worried about.

König smiles down at you, carefully reaching out to tuck some stray hair behind your ear. "Maus, you have my word." The threat of tears welled up thick in your throat. "I'm not going anywhere, liebling." Someone calls from down the hall that it was time for your meeting. You feel König place a hand on your lower back, keeping you close while ushering you further. You came out of your debriefing feeling even worse than when you went in, this wasn't going to be your run of the mill mission you were used to. This was going to be dangerous for even the most skilled soldier. The second everyone had broken off to try and enjoy the rest of their day König pulled you aside. "Look at me, it's going to be okay." He could tell you were on the verge of panicking, despite knowing that would only make the situation worse.

"König do you know the statistics of how many people get hurt going on missions like these. Do you know how many people die?" You said it, the one word that was forbidden in your line of work. He drops down on one knee, gently taking your face in his hands.

"I know, and I know it's scary, but I don't want you to be thinking about that." He sighs, stroking your cheek. He wanted to make you feel better, he hated seeing you so anxious. "Let me take you on a date… it will give us something to do instead of sitting around worrying." You froze, your mind going blank. He wanted to take you on a date?

"I…I don't have anything to wear. If we're going on a date I want to look nice." You couldn't stop yourself from smiling. König was right about one thing, it would be a welcomed distraction.

"You already look beautiful Maus." You blushed at his compliment. He held out his hand to you and you took it without hesitation. His skin was warm and calloused, his hand completely engulfing your own as he let his fingers completely close around it. The two of you got permission to head into the city for the evening. König had been stationed in this area before so he knew exactly where he wanted to take you. Before you left he changed out of his sniper hood and into a cloth mask that covered the lower half of his face. You finally got a chance to get an idea of what he looked like underneath. You were shocked to find out that König had dark blonde hair that he kept relatively long compared to usual military standards. He had freckles that peaked just above where his mask. You could also more clearly make out the wrinkles by his eyes that shows how much he genuinely smiles. When the two of you headed into town you were honestly a bit surprised when you ended up at a food truck that served some local specialty. He ordered for you and paid for your meal, the entire time keeping his hand on the small of your back so he could ensure that you were still there next to him. You wandered into a park to look for a place to sit and made it just in time to catch the sunset. You let your head fall to rest on König's arm, he sat next to you completely rigid.

"Thank you for taking me out, I needed to keep my mind off of tomorrow." He glances down at you, bright blue eyes trained on your face.

"I'm hoping you'll let me take you on another date after this mission is over." You picked up on the nervousness in his voice immediately.

"König, I don't know if you've noticed, but I kind of like you a lot… of course I'll go on another date with you." The hand that was situated in his lap began to reach out for yours, slowly moving his finger over so it would bump into the side of your hand.

"I'm really happy I met you (Y/N)." He says softly.

You smile, eyes never leaving the horizon. "I am too."

The next morning everyone was on edge. You all sat silently in the back of the truck, the usual attempt to lighten the mood vacant. As you neared your destination Ghost finally spoke up. "Team A, we're going to sweep their safe house, any hostages I want brought to me directly. Team B, you're in charge of sweeping the rest of their compound. This is a capture or kill mission, our number one priority is getting us and the hostages out safely. You glanced across the isle at König. He tried to give you a reassuring nod but you could tell how nervous he was really feeling. The truck came to a rough stop, jolting your body forward in the process. Everyone piled out and began separating into their teams. A giant gloved hand came to rest on the top of your head as König gave you a gentle pat. "Be careful out there, Bärchen." You say softly, unable to look at him knowing it would probably make you cry.

"You too Maus." He runs off to join his team.

"Come on Mickey, we got a house to clean." Soap says as he approaches you. He could tell how stressed you were feeling. Even if he didn't know the extent of your relationship with König he knew how much you cared about him. "He's gonna be alright, man's a fuckin' tank, there's no stopping him." You nodded heading off with him to handle your half of the mission. Team A consisted of you, Ghost, Johnny, Gaz, and a couple of privates from the base. Team B consisted of KorTac, Price and a few other soldiers.

"Mick, I need to know you're here with me sweetheart, you're looking a little spacey." Ghost says quietly as you wait for the perfect moment to storm the safe house.

"I'm with you lieutenant, just another day at the office." You tried your best to sound confident. To give your team the Mickey they needed right now. Soap was right, König would be fine. All of this would be over in less than an hour.

"Move in." You got your cue. You looked at Soap, the two of you exchanging an affirming nod before you made your way up to the safe house. He taps your shoulder, motioning that he'll start his sweep to the right you start to your left. You found nothing but a couple low grade officers guarding the hostages, which meant everyone incredibly dangerous was either not here or in the same building as Team B. You quickly and quietly escorted the hostages outside so you could get them some medical attention "Team A has successfully completed their sweep. Team B what's your status?" Ghost's voice booms over the comms. It was silent for a while… too long.

"Ghost, we've been hit." Price's panicked voice was the only thing you could hear. "They found out we're here."

"Do you need medical? We're heading to your location now." You readied yours as fast as you possibly could.

"Ghost, I need you to listen to me. I don't know how many men I've already lost, if you come over here your whole team could be taken out." You could hear gunfire in the background. You were going to attempt to make a run for it. You needed to help them, you needed to get out who you could. The second you tried to bolt Ghost latched onto your collar, pulling you to the ground.

"Let me go, I need to help them." You say through gritted teeth, fighting back tears.

"Mick, you know that's only going to make things worse." Ghost jumps back on comms. "Price, do you have a casualty count?"

"At least four." Any drive you had to stand back up left your body. That was half of their team, just gone.

"Anyone from KorTac?" Ghost remained motionless by your side, prepared to drag you out of there if needed.

"I don't know, I lost them in the fire fight." You were shaking. Throughout all your years in the military you had never felt like this during a mission.

"We'll rendezvous back at base, I need to get these hostages medical attention." Price confirmed and the comms went silent again. Ghost hauled you to your feet, attempting to steady you by the shoulders when you almost fell over. "Hold it together Mickey, come on." His gruff voice shocks you back to reality. You felt like you were in a fog, you were going through the motions of securing the hostages but you weren't really there. The second you were back to base you made your way to the common room, sat down, and waited. Your teammates tried everything they could think of to comfort you but it wasn't any use. All you wanted was König, or at the very least to know he was okay. After about an hour of waiting, Price finally found you. You stood, hurrying over to him. He looked a little worse for wear but overall he seemed fine.

"Price, is König okay?" Ghost was the first one to speak up. You couldn't bring yourself to say it knowing that there was a very high chance he didn't make it back at all.

"He was hit, but he's okay. He actually asked if I could send you down to him." You thanked Price, telling him how happy you were that he was safe but you had to go see him. You ran down to the infirmary, ignoring the calls from the nurses that you had to check in before you could enter as you pushed through the doors. You just needed to see what state he was in. You were met with the sight of König sitting up in bed, pleasantly chatting with the doctor that was going over what he would have to do for his wound care. The top half of his body was wrapped in a bandage that showed he was shot in the shoulder, sniper hood still on. His eyes landed on you and you saw his whole body relax. You waited for the doctor to leave before you approached him.

"Maus." You saw the corners of his eyes crinkle up. It was hard to be mad with the shirtless mass of muscle in front of you. You had a whole speech planned about how worried you were how he could've been seriously hurt. But now that you saw him sitting in front of you none of that really mattered. You sat on the edge of the infirmary bed, tears pricking at your eyes.

"You said you were going to be careful." Your voice cracked as you spoke. He grabbed your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I know, and I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry." You felt the first year slip into your cheek and that was enough to open the floodgates. Your body wracked with sobs, König pulled you to him, wrapping an arm around you.

"I thought I lost you." He quietly hushed you, running his fingers through your hair. You stayed like that for a while, both of you remaining silent until König.

"I think after my contract's up I'm going to call it." You shot up, in pure disbelief at what you were hearing. "I got hit today because I got careless. I was trying so hard to get this over with quickly to get back to you that I let my guard down. I don't want something to happen to me out in the field or have you worried like this all the time. (Y/N), I'm in love with you, I don't want to miss the opportunity to explore what we have before it even starts." Hearing him say that made you start crying all over again. Once you had finally calmed down you sat up, wiping your eyes.

"I think this might be my final tour too." You smile at him. He grabs the top of his hood, fully pulling it off his head. You gently caress his face, "you're so handsome under there." You hiccup a laugh through your remaining tears.

"I'm glad you think so." He chuckles. He holds you close, lips gently finding yours for what was the softest first kiss you had ever had. König gently cradled you in his arms, taking his time to fully memorize every single aspect of what kissing you felt like. 

"I love you Bärchen." You say softly. He gazed down at you with the most loved filled expression of adoration.

"I love you too, mein mouse." He whispers, pulling you in for one more short, sweet kiss.

[starlightomatic]

ngl feel really really weird about the direction we've gone wrt internet safety for teens. when i was a kid it was hammered into us that we should never reveal our real names, our faces, or our ages on the internet. in fact it was extremely important not to reveal your age bc if you did, predators could target you.

now we've decided that the locus of potential sexual harm from adults is not predators who set out to target teens, but rather well-meaning adults who might accidentally let a minor see smut on their blog. so we make everyone broadcast their ages to everyone. which puts a target on the backs of teens who are now advertising to everyone that they're underage.

we also situate sexual harm of minors in "a minor saw sexual content!!" which, listen, im sorry to tell you this but teenagers have sex drives and want to see sexual content. a 16yo is not being harmed by reading a smut fic.

now i do understand why nsfw blogs don't allow minors to interact, bc the interaction constitutes an issue since that's on some level a teen and adult interacting sexually. but the issue is not that a teen saw something sexual, it's that you should not be having that interaction with them. still i am not convinced that that is riskier than giving predators knowledge of who to target.

i also worry what happens when all the well meaning people with best practices turn teens out of their spaces -- who does that end up leaving them with? i'm not saying the solution is to invite them in but there has to be some other, third option. i also think we need to understand the difference between a 17yo liking a sex-related shitpost on tumblr vs an actual intentionally predatory sexual interaction from an adult.

i don't think it's necessarily bad to set a boundary and not allow them to like the shitpost, but i don't like the idea that it was harmful for them to have even seen it. i think it's actually positive for teens to have exposure to adults who are talking about sexuality in consent-based, sex-positive, queer-informed ways to balance out all the shitty, sexist bioessentialist perspectives they're getting elsewhere.

also again, we should remember that the issue is sex-based interactions between teens and adults, NOT that teens are bad or wrong for being interested in sex and sexuality. if a really young teen is too interested in that it could be concerning but age-appropriate levels of sexuality are fine and good and i don't want kids to think they're wrong, dirty, or bad for experiencing sexuality.

i think there's a balance here where we need to make sure interactions are safe without diving headfirst into a spring-awakening-style world where we assume teens are too innocent and pure to know anything about sex which results in risky behavior, not practicing safe sex, and not understanding consent. and i get worried sometimes that the current culture around this leads us there.

i especially worry about this in regards to kink and bdsm because i don't know if there are any educational resources out there geared to teens. i do think it's a good idea to wait until you're 18 before doing anything hardcore or too intense, or even kink at all, but if they're going to anyway (and some will) i'd rather teens have a solid safety backing and knowledge as opposed to just acting on instinct because that can really be dangerous. and something i really worry about is people who turn 18 and immediately show up to play parties and start hooking up with people without having that background knowledge because they were prevented from accessing it before then, since it's so easy for abusers to exploit them. young adult women are already extremely vulnerable in those spaces.

i don't know what my exact solution to these issues is but i feel really concerned about where we're heading. i've been wanting to say something for a while but have been afraid that people would interpret this the wrong way. i'm sure some still will, but i hope this can at least start a conversation about these issues.

[pricegouge]

Have you ever watched the movie don’t breathe? Imagine reader breaking into the 141 guys house thinking it’ll be an easy robbery😭

Oh, I had too much fun with this lmao.

cw: poly!141, gn!reader, horror elements, kidnapping, reader is a cat burglar, spoilers for Don't Breathe, I guess? Abrupt ending

They weren't supposed to be home.

You'd been so careful, watching for weeks - months, mapping out their unpredictable schedule obsessively, finding rhyme and reason where you were first convinced there were none. But desperation drove innovation, and soon you'd found yourself running proper work sheets dedicated to each of them, cross referencing between them obsessively until you'd found a few hard and fast rules - minimal, but workable. Enough to have you slipping confidently past their high end security system in the early evening of a quiet Tuesday night.

Fuckin' Tuesdays. You should have known better; nothing good ever happens on a Tuesday.

It's hard to say where you'd miscalculated. Perhaps an error in your extrapolation of the little data you'd collected, just because they had always been gone for days on end each time they packed up their obscenely big SUV in the past didn't mean they always would. Maybe before that, when you'd decided the unassuming, but tightly secured house across town should be your next target after little more than some whispered gossip at the grocery store. ("Four incomes, and living in a place like this? I've seen the way they shop. Prepper types. Bet that house is insulated with cash.") Probably, it was earlier still, when your life had first started unfolding in a direction that often had you sneaking through windows and pawning gold lockets engraved with the names of loved ones you'd never known.

When you'd first heard the thud of car doors outside, you'd laughed to yourself a bit deliriously, thinking the only thing you were likely to make it out of this pickle with was a nice, new pair of matching silver bracelets. Now, watching through the slats of the cheap closet door as the biggest man you've ever seen in your life (Simon, as your brief stint as a PI had told you, though it's hard to recognize him now beneath the hard mask he has on) begins to undress for a shower, the pit of dread in your stomach sinks lower with each knife he pulls from the concealed folds of his damn tac gear and you know you'll be lucky to make it out of this place in cuffs.

The air is stifling in your little closet space, growing more so with every minute that passes as the growing humidity seeps into the unfinished wood of the door. The material blooms in the heat, the musty smell growing strong enough to override the strange mix of expensive cologne and cheap five in one body wash which adorn the shelf currently digging into your shoulder blade. It's hard to keep your breaths shallow in your panic, but you manage, jaw hinged wide and tongue pressed to the bottom of your mouth to avoid any latent nose whistles, or the wet sound of your saliva. Minutes pass. The man before you finally seems to run out of weapons and armor to remove and pulls his shirt up over his head, taking the skull mask off with it and your breath wheezes ever so slightly at the sight.

It's not a shock that he's big and mean, but the severity of it all takes you by surprise. Criss-crossed in corded muscles and scars alike, Simon is somehow more frightening now than he was before and there's no helping the loud sound you make when you swallow back your fear.

When his head whips around, it nearly startles a shriek from you, but you seal your lips tight when his gaze lands on the window, kitty corner to your hiding place. Still in his boots, you expect his step to ring ominously when he paces closer, but Simon moves with lethal grace, silent as the grave. You didn't even realize he had grabbed a knife until it glints in the streetlight glow, light speckled and refracted through the obfuscatory, pebbled window cling. Your breath stills, Simon's eyes narrow as he cranks the window open wider, confusion and apprehension evident. You're on the second story so no doubt he wonders how on earth he heard someone outside -

"LT, ye in h -?" The question cuts off with a low whistle and Simon looks like he's visibly fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Nothin' you 'aven't seen before, sergeant."

"Nothin' ah wouldn't mind seein' again." Johnny, one with the mohawk, counters. You'd never heard him speak before and the accent throws you briefly. He's dressed much like Simon had been, decked out in the kind of tac gear you've only ever seen in movies. Just your fucking luck. He sidles up behind the bigger man, hooking his chin over Simon's shoulder "What're ye doin'?"

"Thought I 'eard somethin'."

Johnny hums, distracted. His palm slides down the swell of Simon's stomach, fingers dipping just slightly under his waist band. "Well, when yer done bein' all paranoid, we should stop wastin' this wa'er."

Simon scoffs but follows easily enough after a final sweep of the street below. The two move together with distracting ease, the sight of their thickly muscled bodies sliding together as they finish undressing getting your breathing labored for a whole new reason, though you know better than to lose too much focus. You wait until they tuck themselves into the shower, the curtain bulging in places as it tries to keep them both hidden away.

The door creaks a bit as you slink out, but a well timed gasped from the Scot covers it and you suppress a relieved sigh, darting down the hallway on silent feet after a quick check reveals a clear path. At the top of the stairs, you stop and listen for movement below, barreling on before you can hesitate too much when you hear voices ringing from the kitchen and know you have a real shot of slipping out the front.

You've trained for moments like this, tiptoeing up and down your own stairs at home, balance beam precise, steps perfectly placed on the center support to avoid creaks. You've never had to use your skill before, always so careful to slip in and out when no one's home. It was a matter of time, you knew, but you can't believe your luck that it's paid off now of all times, in a house full of four extremely large men, all likely some sort of military as you're rapidly inferring.

The landing on the first floor is ill-guarded. You duck behind the dining table as quickly as possible and cast around for a better hiding place, thanking whatever god might be listening to thieves like you for older model homes. An open floor layout would see you dead right now, probably.

It goes against every instinct in your body to take a moment and collect your bearings but you force yourself into stillness, taking stock of your position before moving forward. On the other side of the wall to your right, the front door holds the key to your freedom. Before you, the hallway stretches toward the downstairs bath and the master bedroom, both of which have a window which will do in a pinch. But on the left, with a doorway which overlooks the corner you would need to pass to get to either, the kitchen houses the two remaining men - John and Kyle - who are currently talking animatedly about the mission they'd just been on. One of them, voice whiskey dark and gravel thick, recounts the frightened look on some poor sod's face right before he'd blown it clean off and the other hoots with laughter, diving into a tale of his own.

You don't listen much after that, ears ringing with panic. It makes it hard to gauge how much noise you make as you shift forward, peering through the rungs of the seat backs into the kitchen to check the angle of their view. They keep talking so you slink forward more, and more, until you're sure you have a shot.

But when you step forward into the open corner, your foot catches on the leg of a chair and the men fall silent as if drags across the floor.

Eyes locked on the kitchen, you don't take note of the direction which you're backing toward and suppress a curse when your hands find the wall of the hallway. You debate diving forward into the living room for all of two seconds before, in the kitchen, stools drag across the floor in an eerie echo of your own blunder, and you shuffle down the hall, thankful for the carpeting muffling your clumsy steps.

You're aiming for the bathroom, but you open the first door your hand falls on.

Cold, damp air greets you as you duck through the door, shutting it as quietly as you can manage, even forcing yourself to stay put as you slowly rotate the knob back into place to avoid the latch clunking into the strike plate. Straining your ears over the general hum of the basement appliances below, you hear the men grumbling in the dining room, pacing back and forth as they try to figure out the source of the noise. You slink back as they draw closer, walking sideways down the stairs with your eyes locked on the door above. The light's on, blessedly, dim bulb painting the cobwebs overhead yellow and amber. It's strange how proper fear reprioritizes such silly things as arachnophobia.

One of the the men - the same gruff voice from before - tells the other to check on the lovers and you sag in relief, assuming they'll head upstairs to see how the two men in the shower are doing -

But then the doorknob is turning again, and you're casting about for a place to hide when you finally take in your surroundings properly, your eyes falling on the cage and the two girls within as your breath stutters out and you truly start to hyperventilate. They watch you with owlish eyes, holding their fingers over their mouths in an attempt to keep you quiet. There's no need for that, but you watch raptly as they point to one of those narrow, high basement windows on the far wall. You nod, stumbling down the remaining steps, only to draw short when the door opens and a soft gasp tells you you've been spotted.

"The fuck -?" Kyle hisses and you panic, lunging behind a storage shelf and rifling around for a weapon as he thunders down the stairs. You settle on an old broom handle, wood dry and coarse in your palm. Kyle laughs when you spin around the shelf to meet him, but it's not him you aim at, arm arching high to smash the bulb. One of the girls shrieks, Kyle grunts when you jab at him, the end of your handle landing hard in his gut, unprotected in his blindness. He yanks it from you, splinters catching in your palm but you don't stop to acknowledge the pain. Eyes adjusting to the dark, you set your sights beyond him to the stairs and slink around him.

You know he hears you when you pass but he doesn't follow. You're confused until what little light you had goes out and you look back behind you to find the window covered, the basement now nothing but an inky darkness you can't navigate.

Overhead, the basement door creaks open again and the other man - John, you now figure - grunts in confusion before flicking the light switch a few times. "Alright down there, sergeant?" He calls, and Kyle's voice is much closer than you'd anticipated when he responds

"Cap, bring the goggs. Got a fun game for us."

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

What's your opinion on the idea of the "chosen one" trope, and how it relates to Luffy in particular? Most of the controversy I've seen over Gear 5 seems to be about that specifically.

this is a really interesting question, and one i had to mull over for a bit! i think the idea of a 'chosen one' or 'destiny' more broadly can reasonably rub a lot of people the wrong way, especially in a story where freedom is such a strong thematic focus- the idea that luffy's actions might be preordained and not driven by his own will feels inherently wrong. (fortunately, i don't think they are.)

the short answer is that i think the use of prophecy in one piece works (at least for me) because it never feels like anyone else is making luffy's decisions for him. this is why it feels somewhat incorrect to me to call him a 'chosen one'- he very much makes all his choices himself.

there are prophecies surrounding him- about joy boy, about the dawn of the world, about nika- but luffy doesn't know about them, and if he did he wouldn't care. they don't define anything about him, how he acts, how he views himself. the world and narrative shapes itself around luffy, and not the other way around. you get the sense that even in the total absence of any prophecy surrounding luffy, he would still be doing the exact same thing he is doing because he only ever does exactly what he wants to do. he's as inevitable as the rising sun! the future changes to fit him!

one piece generally rejects the concept of unchangeable fate out of hand- if you tell luffy something can't be done he'll take it as a personal challenge- but it does have a lot to say about inherited will. i think it would be more accurate to say that all the strawhats and their allies, luffy especially, have in some way come to embody the inherited will and dreams of the people who came before them, whether they know it or not, both through their own experiences and because of who they already were as people.

like, the prophecies about luffy don't say he's destined to become the pirate king, or anything so specific as that. he decided on his own that he was going to do that, and that has always been his goal- to be completely free and have those he cares about be completely free. that's what he values. and it just so happens that that trait makes him fit the image of the liberator.

[lucy90712]

Can you write a prank for gavi? Reader wearing a real madrid jersey and gavi getting sad and a lot of fluff after? Thank you!

For months on end Pablo has been pranking me and every time I say I'm going to get him back but he always manages to prank me again before I can. He's done everything from put fake spiders in the house to wiping off the kisses I give him to see my reaction. They are all relatively harmless pranks he never goes too far but still he's definitely winning this prank war if you can even call it that and I'm desperate to get on the scoreboard. 

My friends have been suggesting different things I can do to get back at Pablo but they are all either pranks he's already done on me or the same idea just slight different but that's not what I'm going for. I want something that he hasn't done to me so he won't see it coming but when he's either done every prank or has definitely seen them and has them in the planning stage things are difficult. Then the day came I saw a tiktok with the perfect prank first I sent it to my friends to see what they thought and they loved it although they warned me that if I do it I'll be coming in strong but that's exactly what I want I need to get him back properly. It didn't take long for me to put my plan in action within a few hours I had the one thing I needed for the prank on its way to me. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Today is the day my package I've been waiting for finally arrived today and I wasn't about to wait so the prank I have planned is going straight ahead full steam. Opening the package I saw the white shirt and then I saw the back with ‘Bellingham’ written on it. Putting it on felt wrong the shirt felt itchy on my skin but that was definitely all in my head as I knew I wasn't supposed to have this let alone have it on but it will be worth it to see the look on Pablo's face. In the tiktok I saw this woman had a Man City shirt on as her boyfriend was a Man Utd fan and his reaction was priceless, the second I saw it I knew this would be the perfect way to get back at Pablo. I know it's slightly different as Pablo plays for Barça and Madrid are their main rivals but I don't think it's too far it's not like I'm actually going to ever support Madrid other than the few minutes of my life I spend pranking him. 

After trying it on I took the shirt off until I heard Pablo's car pulling up in the driveway which is when I put it back on and started watching a video on YouTube about how Madrid will be unbeatable with mbappe just to really grind Pablo's gears. He came in and called for me so I told him I was in the living room so that's where he came as soon as he put his shoes away. First he saw what I was watching and he seemed confused but he wasn't mad yet. As he came closer the tv was distracting him so much that he sat down next to me before realising what I was wearing. That's when he actually started to look mad he almost seemed disgusted with me.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" He seethed 

"Oh I forgot I put this on" I laughed to seem unbothered 

"Better question why are you wearing it?" He asked 

"Just felt like it" I said nonchalantly 

"Wait does it say Bellingham on the back y/n you have it be kidding me" he said using my full name which he literally never does anymore 

"You aren't really making a big deal out of this are you it's just a shirt Pablo" I said 

"You have to be kidding me it's not just a shirt you know you're dating a Barcelona player which means you can't support Real Madrid as in our main rivals if you seriously don't see any issue here then you aren't the person I thought you were" he said walking away 

Before I knew it he'd gone upstairs and I was sat on my own feeling awful about what I'd done. I wanted to get him back I didn't want to hurt him so deeply and change his opinion of me that was never the aim. The aim was never to hurt his feelings he's never done anything like that when pranking me and now I feel like I've taken it too far and he's going to hate me. I left him alone for a few minutes before I couldn't keep going any longer and I had to tell him it was supposed to be a prank and not actually hurt him. 

When I went upstairs he was sat on our bed scrolling on his phone, he must've heard me coming as he looked up but then went straight back to looking at his phone. He was definitely mad at me but not in the way I am after he scares the life out of me by putting a fake spider in my mug in the morning he was properly mad at me. I tried to sit next to him on the bed but he moved further over and turned away from me. That really hurt I guess I was stupid to think me wearing a Real Madrid shirt wouldn't be such a deal breaker but still him ignroning me felt awful. 

"I'm sorry this was supposed to just be a prank I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or betray your trust" I said honestly 

"Why did you think this would be a good idea?" He asked finally speaking to me 

"I don't know you've done so many pranks on me and I wanted to get you back and I saw a tiktok where someone else did it and I thought it would be a good way to get you back but I realise now that it was stupid" I admitted 

"You don't really like Real Madrid right or Bellingham" he questioned 

"No of course not you know I've grown up as a barca fan and I'm sure Bellingham's a nice guy but I've never met him and I don't plan on ever talking to him I support you and the team and that's it" I said 

"Can you take the shirt off I hate looking at it" he said 

He didn't even give me time to respond before he took the shirt off for me and threw it across the other side of the room so it was as far away as possible. He then grabbed one of his shirts from his wardrobe and put it on me which brought back a bit of a smile on his face. Now that I had his name and number on my back he let me get close to him and he pulled me into his arms. Everything felt a lot better now that I didn't have that stupid shirt on and my boyfriend had his arms around me. He didn't seem as mad anymore and I wondered if he was pranking me by pretended to be so mad when he realised what I was doing but that doesn't really matter. I've definitely learnt my lesson not to prank Pablo. 

“I’m really sorry” I said again 

“It’s ok I forgive you just don’t you dare ever wear that hideous thing again” he said half joking 

“Never I’ll only wear shirts with your name from now on” I said 

“Good now you can make it up to me by staying here and cuddling all evening” he said 

“I can definitely do that” I smiled 

He held me even tighter and pressed a kiss to my cheek but that wasn’t good enough for me so I leaned over and kissed his lips. I gave him a couple more kisses before settling back into his arms some could watch a movie together. 

[wlntrsldler]

i’m kinda feeling a jealous!luke rn…… how do we feel about luke going to cheer for fuve star in one of her matches but afterwards when he’s going to congratulate her, he finds some dude trying to flirt with her. and she’s clearly not interested but luke doesn’t miss the chance to greet her with a kiss and then look at the guy with the most annoyed, dismissive expression ever. then luke smiles. “sorry, was i interrupting?”

a/n: i know nothing about field hockey! beware!

"mr. d, i don't know how you do this," luke muttered, eyes darting between you and clarisse on the field. the score was 1-1 and it was end of 2OT. both teams were gearing up for a shootout for the national title. "i've never been this nervous in my life."

mr. d chuckled from beside him, placing a comforting hand on luke's upper back, "trust me, it doesn't get any easier."

"i think i'm gonna throw up," chris mumbled from beside luke, anxiously waiting for the referee to indicate that the shootout was starting. clarisse was third on the line-up.

"you and me both, brother," luke replied, chewing on his bottom lip. he tugged on his shirt, suddenly feeling confined in the fabric. you were so close to the championship. this was the final game and if you won, you'd be a back-to-back national champion.

luke knew how hard you worked to get here. he often got voice memos from you, ranting about how practice and training wore you out, but he knew you got up bright and early the next day to do it again. you fell asleep on facetime calls often, sometimes only lasting ten minutes before you fell asleep on the call.

"it's starting," chris said, getting up from his seat. "i don't know if i want to watch or look away."

northwestern was up first. goal.

"fuck," travis groaned, echoing the sentiment of fellow unc supporters in the stands.

connor and travis were sitting behind him, both equally nervous to see how the game would unfold. you and clarisse had bought them unc merch to wear to the game, but luke and chris wanted to surprise you and clarisse with diy shirts that said "number [your jersey number/ clarisse's jersey number] biggest fan." you and clarisse both laughed when you saw their shirts. you loved them.

by the time it was clarisse's turn, the score was 1-0 (shootout) with unc trailing behind.

"come on, clar," chris hollered, clapping his hands, "you got this!"

clarisse masterfully maneuvered around northwestern's goalie and sunk the ball into the net. the boys and mr. d screamed in celebration as the score changed to reflect the goal. 1-1. unc was still in it.

clarisse pointed to the stands, eyes finding chris' in the crowd and blew him a kiss. chris beamed as he saw himself on the big screen. he pointed to his shirt, mouthing, "that's my girl!"

"i love how two days ago you guys had no clue how field hockey worked and now look at you," silena teased, adjusting the unc cap on her head.

"we still don't know what's going on, to be honest," luke replied sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck, "but this is the big game!"

"i get it," she said, nudging charlie, "i still don't understand football but i'm at my wits end every time i watch him play."

charlie chuckled, wrapping an arm around silena's waist, before cheering with the rest of the crowd when you stepped up for the shootout.

you were the last one to go and even that alone is a lot of pressure, but you were the tiebreaker for this shootout. the score was still 1-1. nobody has scored since clarisse, both goalies were brick walls and luke's heart was hammering in his chest.

"come on, five star," he whispered, biting his knuckles, "light work baby."

you took a deep breath and dribbled the ball. you were electric out there. you were strategic and quick on your toes. luke was mesmerized watching you play. he'd seen your tapes before, in preparation for this game just so he wasn't completely clueless walking into the championship game, but watching it in real time was something else.

you swerved around the goalie and hit the ball. luke held his breath. goal.

"let's fucking go!" you screamed, falling to your knees on the field as your teammates rushed to engulf you in a hug.

the screams from the unc fans were defeaning. luke was grinning from ear to ear as the boys cheered around him. chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders, shaking him relentlessly. luke couldn't contain his excitement, but he knew that he should let you have this moment with your team. he'll celebrate with you in a bit, for now, you needed to soak in this feeling. back-to-back national champion.

as the adrenaline from the win began to subside, luke and chris, with the help of mr. d, made their way to the field. chris wandered off to find clarisse and luke was standing on the sidelines as mr. d talked to your coach. he watched as you did your post-game interview. you were glowing and it took all his willpower to not run up to you and kiss you on national television.

when you shook the reporter's hand in goodbye, luke began walking over to you, only to stop in his tracks when a boy approached you. luke blinked, tilting his head as he watched the situation unfold.

the guy was... okay-looking. he was definitely an athlete too, based on his build and height. luke's assumptions were proven correct when he got close enough to see his unc basketball hoodie. the boy's eyes fucking twinkled while he spoke to you, a charming smile adorning his face that luke wanted to punch off his prince charming facade.

he watched as you took a step back from the boy, awkwardly gesturing somewhere in the stands. luke felt smug hearing you say, "well, i have a boyfriend and he's over there actually so i should go find him."

but the guy was not letting up. luke watched as the guy rolled his eyes, obviously unphased by your revelation. luke clenched his jaw, keeping his composure.

luke marched over to you and wrapped an arm around your waist to turn you around. he roughly connected his lips with yours, smirking inside when you moaned at the contact. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him deeper. his hands traveled up your spine, pushing you flush against his body. when the two of you pulled away, your eyes remained closed, a giddy smile on your face as you breathed out, "hell of a congratulations, castellan."

luke laughed, placing a quick kiss to your lips before turning to address the boy, "sorry, was i interrupting something?"

you had to cover your mouth to muffle the snort that came out of you. luke was staring at the boy intensely, lips in a tight line, as his hand squeezed the skin of your hip in possessiveness. the boy faltered, taking a step back in defeat. luke continued to shoot daggers at him, not deterred by the threat, or lack thereof, in front of him. eventually, the boy got the hint and walked away, shaking his head.

luke's cocky smirk was unstoppable as he faced you again, "great job, baby. national champ, again! look at you."

"thank you," you sighed, nuzzling your face into his neck. luke welcomed your public display of affection. "are we gonna talk about what just happened?"

he rolled his eyes, playfully, "nah, not worth it."

"yeah, but it was hot."

"then yes, let's talk about how hot you think i am."

"shut up," you replied, kissing him again. if this was your way of shutting him up, he wasn't going to complain.

[lowkeyrobin]

hiii!! you are literally blessing tumblr rn with your trevor fics omg... anyways!! i was wondering if i could request a trevor spengler x fem!reader in which reader comes in with a ghost issue and the ghostbusters have to help her and almost immediately trevor wants to impress her with his "skills"... i think that would be super cute!! just her explaining the situation with the ghost and trevor is trying to act all cool and collected.. i hope that makes sense!!! thank you so much!

awe thank you!! glad to be serving you guys ; and yeah ofc ! only thing is I only write gn readers so I apologize for that, but I don't think I referenced pronouns or anything referring to gender at all so 👍 ; thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy

TREVOR SPENGLER ; impression

summary ; Trevor trying to win you over with his "skills" and knowledge of being a ghostbuster

warnings ; language

word count ; 665

masterlist

"It's in the kitchen" You say, leaning against the door as you close it behind Trevor and Phoebe. Callie and Gary look to the kids, silently asking if they could do it on their own.

The pair nod, letting the adults sit on the stairs in front of the door. You lead the teens into the kitchen, showing them Slimer, eating everything out of your fridge.

"Fourth time this month. It stayed long enough for me to able to call" You inform quietly, watching Trevor beside you nod, Phoebe looking on with a bit of disgust and confusion. "He's a nice little guy, but I can't afford it in this economy"

"Yeah, we can take care of that for you," the boy replies, a quiet tone shaping his words so as not to scare the ghoulish creature raiding your fridge. He looks over at you, clearly a look in his eyes like he wanted to impress you for some reason.

Phoebe rolls her eyes and grabs a trap off the side of her proton pack, handing it to Trevor. "Go on, impress them"

"I'm not-" Trevor quickly speaks, then sighs, "Whatever"

He quietly sets up the trap, avoiding Slimer, now sitting on the floor, infecting the floorboards with its green goop. He stands back, crouched down in the doorway, foot on the lever of the trap. The proton thrower rests in his arms, finger on the trigger as he tries to lure Slimer toward the trap, hidden behind the doorway.

Unfortunately, the plan didn't work how Trevor wanted, now covered in green slime.

"Shit" He mumbles, wiping the goo off of his face.

You chuckle with a little smile, looking to Phoebe who gave you that "make him stop" look.

"Sorry, uh.." Trevor awkwardly says, gathering the trap to hand it back to Phoebe. "That obviously didn't go how it was intended"

"It was still impressive, I've never seen someone with so much patience try to do this before" You say, purposefully trying to boost his ego.

He smiles, "Yeah, uh, well... I'll clean all this up for you." He wipes some more slime off of himself, trying to move it to the floor for easier cleaning. "Uh, where's your mop?"

You point to a closet in the hallway, leading him to the cleaning supplies. Phoebe pulls you away, telling Trevor that you needed to speak with Callie and Gary for a moment.

"You've got an impressive son out there, ma'am," you say with a smile, quickly catching focus of her kind and comforting presence. "He's a real gem"

"Oh, yeah" She smiles, "He's a special one. Kind boy, I swear"

Phoebe looks at her mom with the same look. "Are you trying to wingman for Trevor?"

👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★👻🕸️☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"This is the power level indicator, and that's the intensification button, to like, up the anti, yknow?" Trevor explains, showing you how the proton thrower worked, trying to find any sense of interest in your eyes.

Luckily, your facial expression showed that clearly, as you were actually paying attention to him and the explanation of how his gear worked. You nod in response to him, trying to think of a question to ask to not make things weird.

"So, like, what do protons do? Like, to ghosts?"

"Oh!" He smiles, thanking whatever force was out there that you asked a question he could answer. "Basically-"

"Basically, he wants to go on a date with you" Phoebe quickly buts in, walking past with a smug smile for Trevor.

He quickly looks back to you, eyes widened. "Uh, don't listen to her!"

"I mean, I'd like that," you shrugged. "I'm impressed. That's what you wanted, right? I'll go out with you"

He blinks a few times, trying to make sure he'd heard you correctly. "Uh, oh my God, uhm, okay!" He nods. "Did I actually impress you?"

You smile and nod, giving him the answer he wanted, and you knew was the truth.

"You owe me twenty dollars, Phoebe!"

[talaok]

Incentive

Pairing: Joel miller x reader

summary: Ellie makes you convince Joel to not get back on the road yet, and you find a way to persuade him

warnings: just fluff with a slight allusion to smut

"pleasee he'll never say no to you"

You sighed "fine, but you owe me, kid"

"absolutely" Ellie nodded

You scowled at her one more time before turning on your feet, your eyes immediately finding Joel deeply focused on fixing some things in the truck bed.

You walked up to him

"Hey"

"hey" he glanced at you

"Whatcha doing?" you asked

" an inventory of our supplies"

"oh, cool" you lied, taking a step so you could sit on the edge of the trunk.

He looked at you suspiciously, somehow already aware of what was happening.

"I already told Ellie we can't stay here another night"

You bit your lip, internally cursing yourself.

How did he always know?

"Joel"

He was listening

"c'mon she's a kid, she's tired"

"I am too, but we gotta get to Wyoming"

"I know, but a day isn't gonna make a difference"

He was contemplating it, you could see the gears turning behind his eyes.

"we can't"

"Joel" you said, taking the can from his hand and setting it in its bag just to guide him in front of you "it's just one night" you shrugged, playing with the hem of his jacket "do it for her" you nodded to Ellie, and noticed with amusement as she pretended not to be staring when you both turned towards her.

"We would be wasting time"

"We should rest" you explained "You should rest" your index finger poked his chest

"I don't wanna rest, I wanna get to Wyoming"

"Hugh" you huffed, smiling a bit as your head fell to his torso in exasperation "you're so stubborn"

"why are you even helping her Y/n?"

You looked up at him, your chin still on him "she's so young, Joel, she's 14 for god's sake and she's seen so much already, the least we could do is show her the world is not only that shitty"

"by staying here another night?" he raised an eyebrow, skeptical

"yes" you smiled "and by maybe trying to act less like a grumpy 80-year-old all the time" you suggested, making him throw his head back with a sigh.

"y/n..."

"really? You're still not convinced after that amazing speech?"

"We really can't waste any time"-

An idea sparked in your mind, as you reduced the distance between you, your hands finding his core.

"I'll tell you what mr grumpypants" you smirked "If you agree to stay here another night, I'll make it worth your while"

He immediately got more serious, his eyes finding yours quickly.

You smiled at that reaction.

"How? She's always around"

"I could keep you company tonight while you keep watch"

"It's been a while" you added, and in that exact moment, as his mind wandered, surely imagining what you were proposing, you knew you had won.

"This is a one-time thing" he cleared out " tomorrow we're back on the road"

"of course" you nodded, biting back a grin as you stood up

"Thank you" you kissed him "she's gonna be really happy"

"well I'm gonna be too" he put his hands on your waist "I've missed you"

"mee too" you agreed, kissing him again.

"do you wanna tell her?" you asked

"no, go on" he gestured, and you shook your head

"You should be nice to her Joel"

"I am" he defended and you scoffed, turning to reach Ellie who was sitting on a tree branch.

"so?" she asked, hopeful, as she noticed you.

"we're staying here another night" you nodded with a smile

"yes!" she grinned "thank you" she took you by surprise as she stood up and hugged you, her tiny arms squeezing you tight.

"No problem Ellie" you reassured her as she took a step back

"how'd you even do it?" she asked " when I asked him, he was all like -no we can't waste time Ellie- and - you can sleep in the car Ellie- " she mocked him exaggeratedly, making you laugh.

"well" you glanced at him, trying to hide the smirk creeping on your lips "I guess I just gave him a little incentive"

[seventeenpins]

never pegged you for a quitter

pairing: QZ!Joel x F!Reader x Tess

word count: 1.7k

summary: Joel gets pegged.

content/warnings: literally just Joel getting pegged. contains--threesome, pussy eating, choking, anal, fingering, fucking w a strap-on.

a/n: just a quick thought written whilst i've been procrastinating. pls someone peg this man. please.

The room was getting dark, the natural light that had been sifting through the moth-bitten curtains starting to wane as afternoon shifted into evening. The last of the setting sun shone through the panes in cuts of vertical light, bathing Joel golden, the fluff of his hair a soft halo.

"Really," Joel grumbles, his eyes dark and jaw ticking, "You need to do all a'that?"

"C'mon, Miller. Quit whining, this whole thing was your idea and if we're gonna do it, we're gonna do it right."

"Fine, fine."

Tess grins wickedly, admiring the way he's folded over, bare ass in the air, his tensed forearms pressing a heavy dip into the bed, bearing most of his weight. "Know you can take, it, Texas," she praises.

He huffs.

The room was cool, but you could see sweat start to bead at his temple when he turns back to look at you, and on the scarred plane of his back. His breathing had started to come in soft little pants.

You press a second finger inside him slowly, gently. Your entire hand was slick with lube at this point, your fore and middle fingers pumping slowly in and out of him, going a little deeper with every press, scissoring him open nice and sloppy.

"How's it feeling?" you ask.

"Honestly?" he frowns, "It feels like taking a shit in reverse."

Tess snorts and set off a chain reaction, the three of you suddenly shaking with laughter as your fingers still sit buried buried in his ass.

"You're really paintin' a picture here," Tess tells him, and he laughs again, but this time the movement makes him twitch backwards and inadvertently presses your fingers deeper and lets out an "Oh--"

"Oh?" you ask, and Tess is smirking.

"Yeah-," he nods and lets out a little moan that he nearly tries to swallow. "Yeah," he says again, voice tight, "Tha's it."

Taking the encouragement, you start pumping your fingers into him a little harder, a little faster, hooking them just so until he's moaning again and again.

A week earlier, Joel had walked in on you and Tess in the middle of a particularly good session. You hadn't expected him back for hours, so you figured you'd have your own fun and gear back up for round two when he got back.

Instead, he'd walked in right at the moment Tess came a fourth time, screaming and sobbing and gushing on your strap--a new acquisition you'd found on a run but hadn't had a chance to try out yet.

He'd never minded before when you played without him. Hell, you and Tess had been hooking up for years before you'd met him, so he certainly didn't have any claim.

But he'd never seen you with a strap, and he'd never seen Tess fucked quite like that, and certainly not by anyone but him, hissing and sputtering and convulsing with the sheer magnitude of her orgasm. You were on your knees, holding her up by her calves, ankles hooked around your neck while you kept a tight hold on her throat. You could feel the sweat on you, dripping from your temple, making your back and chest sticky, one bead falling from the tip of your nose down between your tits and then landing on her. Neither of you caring one bit--the wetter the better.

Seeing her dazed, soaking your cock, something akin to jealousy washed over Joel. But no, not quite jealousy. Or rather, not jealousy that you were fucking her like that. Rather, jealousy that you were fucking her like that.

He realised with a start, he wanted to be on the receiving end.

You saw the moment, too. Turned towards him the moment you heard his footsteps and heard the hitch of his breath, saw the way his eyes widened and his jaw ticked, until he noticed that you were watching him. Then, his stoic mask of neutrality returned.

But you saw the way his cock was tenting his jeans.

Saw the way his eyes flashed. How intently he watched the two of you.

You and Tess placed a bet; how long would it take for him to acknowledge it, outside of the moment.

He wasn't exactly the most open guy, so you guessed three weeks, and under the influence of pills or booze. Tess guessed two months, same circumstances. You were both wrong.

To the astonishment of both of you, it was only three days later when he approached you together and, shockingly blunt, put the request to you.

"You wanna fuck me with that strap?"

As a general rule, Joel's kinda quiet. Not that he's not able to raise his voice--he can and he does. And he'll get in moods, every once in a while, after he's heard from Tommy or you have a particularly good run, where he's not exactly happy or open but he is a little less guarded.

But you don't think you've heard him quite like this before.

His chest is heaving--heavy, ragged breaths. You're pressing the head of your artificial cock into his hole, and entering with a glide. You hold him by the hip to steady him, refusing to let him buckle as you pound into him. With your other hand, you press between his balls to feel the very root of his cock. When you first rub your thumb against it he's surprised, nearly jumping at the contact. You press the digit harder and stroke him between the balls and he lets out a moan. It's beautiful, and neither you nor Tess have ever heard that from them before.

It only eggs you on.

"Those fuckin' sounds, Joel," Tess growls, "I wanna feel those moans on my pussy."

He lets out a grunt of affirmation, uninterested in forming any actual words. Tess leans against the headboard and spreads her legs, glistening cunt bared for both of you to see.

You love her like this. Toned stomach. Muscled thighs held open, damp curls leading down to her drooling lips.

You wish you could be a creature of infinite tongues and infinite hands and infinite reach; want more than anything that you could fuck Joel and press your fingers into his mouth, stroke his cock, lick Tess's dripping pussy and pinch at her nipples, grab at her waist, her hip, her thigh, all at the same time.

But you're only a person, so you steady Joel as you fuck into him harder and take your pleasure from watching the way he hooks his hands under her thighs and pulls her towards him, tongue laving over her wet folds. You cherish every moan you pull from him, and Tess buries her fist in his hair, pulling him in even closer as she rubs her clit harder and harder against his willing tongue.

"Fuck, Joel, yes-" you gasp and he shudders. The base of the strap rubs against your clit deliciously and you can feel yourself getting close.

"Takin' this cock so nice," you praise him, "I know, I know-" you soothe, "It's big, huh? You're doin so good, so fucking good-"

He is still moaning as he devours Tess, and he's getting louder and louder.

"That's it," she breathes, desperate and hungry, "Doin so good, takin care of this pussy, fuck Joel! Don't fuckin stop-!"

As you've been fucking him, you've been ignoring his cock, applying pressure only at the base. Now, you wrap your hand along his weeping, neglected length and rub your thumb over the tip, gathering the dripping liquid.

He exhales something of a sob, and the sensation tips Tess over the edge. She's shaking and convulsing on his tongue, but she doesn't let go of his hair, and he keeps licking into her as she rides it out and keeps going.

You stroke his cock in smooth, fast strokes, your wrist flicking at the end, thumb and forefinger creating a tight circle, choking his tip.

With the grip on his cock, and the angle of your thrusts, he's shaking now, too. The tip of the strap presses just right into him, brushing against his prostate, making him see sparks.

"Mmmpphhh-" Joel grunts, and Tess pulls his head off of her.

"What was that?" she asks, and he whines.

"Gonna-" he's panting, brows furrowed as he looks into her eyes, but speaks to both of you. "Can't- can't stop. Gonna- fuck, I'm gonna come!"

Tess grins and pulls his mouth back down to her. You keep fucking into him in long, deep strokes that make him twitch with each thrust. "Come for us, baby," you tell him, and grab him by the balls.

You can feel the way he tenses, and the way his balls tighten and pull up towards his body.

Then he's coming with a cry that not even Tess's cunt can muffle.

He comes in heavy, thick spurts, again and again, painting the bedsheets, shaking as he rides it through, squirming with your cock still pressed deep in his ass.

"Good boy," Tess praises as she pulls him off her drenched pussy and strokes his hair. You can hear the shake of her voice, the way it's gotten huskier. Spent. "Did so good for us."

You hold him by the hip and pull out, delighting in the way he crumples at the loss of sensation.

He buckles and lands on his mess, seemingly unbothered. He rolls over and looks up at you both, and he's grinning. You've never seen him quite like this, this totally blissed out.

"Look at that, Tess," you joke, "I think he might need a cock up his ass more often."

He rolls his eyes, but he's still smiling.

"C'mere," he says, and splays his arms out. You undo the harness and let it fall, and then nestle into his side. Tess slides in behind you. Low lamplight illuminates the room, a soft yellow blanketing the space.

He takes a deep breath, still trying to even out his breathing altogether. "Thank you," he grunts.

"'Course." you press a kiss to his temple.

"Now, you better not be too worn out," he warns, "Cos you ain't come yet."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Ten minutes," he tells you, "Just need ten minutes."

He looks between the two of you.

"And y'all better not start round two without me."

[freebirdsworldburritos]

The classism in the "music gear" scene is fucking atrocious. So many people will shit on other people for using affordable gear as a way to justify within themselves that dropping $3,000 on a guitar was a smart financial move.

About 3-4 years ago I joined a band and a month after I joined we went on some video podcast. Play a few songs, do an interview, something I've never done before but it seemed like it'd be fun.

I wasn't able to really get a word in during the interviews (stuttering/speech impediment/anxiety issues ran wild) but I was able to speak up whenever the host went around and asked us what our favorite instrument/gear brands were. Weird question, but alright buddy.

I've always been a fan of cheaper gear. You don't need all sorts of expensive shit to get the sound you want. So when he asked my answer was "Squier" and the dude just started laughing. Because who possibly would prefer one of the cheaper brands??? (Keep in mind this douche had a whole wall of the absolute worst looking collection of custom shop BC Rich guitars you've ever seen.)

Eventually he backed down once I started arguing with him about it, but his immediate elitist attitude really struck a cord in me because I see that shit all over the internet in music communities. "Oh you only like Squiers/Epiphones/Harley Bentons because you can't afford BIG BOY guitars like a $5,000 Gibson".

Fuck right off with that shit. Why would I pay thousands of dollars for a guitar when I can get something that works amazingly for me for just a few hundred dollars? The extra money I save by not dropping 4 figures on a guitar or amp goes towards paying my bills, feeding my kids, just trying to fucking live and exist.

At this point I've had to sell 99% of my music gear after over a decade of following the gear chase. I only have a "cheap" acoustic I bought several years ago for $350 and it's the best guitar I've ever had. I love my little busted neck Hummingbird to death.

I'm much happier now than I was when I had a huge assortment of pedals and guitars to choose from. The Gear Chase is designed to make you want to spend more and more money in an endless pursuit of finding that "perfect" piece of gear. Guitar companies, partnered youtubers, influencers, and all sorts of advertisement campaigns are purposefully trying to misguide you into thinking you NEED their product. It's marketing and capitalism at work and so many musicians fall for it every time. I fell for it for years before I got completely fed up with it.

Go out and gig with your Squier Bullet Strat and a cheap amp you found at a pawn shop, fuck anyone that gives you shit for it. Go ahead and record with whatever you have at your disposal. Put out an album that's comprised of Voice Memos you recorded on your phone with just an acoustic and your voice.

Music, like any art, is about way more than what you used to get there. It's how you express yourself that really matters. Don't listen to the elitists and marketers telling you the only way you can authentically reach your creative vision is by buying their snake oil.

[reasonandempathy]

The weird radical/revolutionary politic larpers on this site are so allergic to political pragmatism I swear lmao. I am definitely left of the Democratic Party and I am certainly voting for Joe Biden in November. Not because I like him (I don’t). He is absolutely horrific on Gaza and that’s only the top (and priority considering there is a genocide going on there) of a list of complaints I have about him. I even voted uncommitted in my state’s presidential primary (the Pennsylvania one; I had to write it in) to protest. However, I’m still thinking pragmatically. Trump has said things that make me credibly think he will be worse on Gaza (insane that being worse on Gaza than Biden is possible but it is unfortunately), and that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Project 2025, the potential for him to appoint more deeply conservative justices, more of his aggressively screwing over poor and middle class people with his tax policies. And does anyone else remember the spike in hate crimes after the race was called for him in 2016? Before he was even inaugurated? Whether people vote or not in November we will still have to deal with one of these two men in office come January unless all of the internet ancom larpers overthrow the government by then (doubt), so I’d rather deal with the one who will be marginally less bad and who didn’t try to overthrow the government. Can’t have your revolution if nobody’s alive cause you kept pushing off politically participating because there was no perfect option. 👍

Political pragmatist anon, sorry for ranting in your askbox but I feel like I lose brain cells watching these people talk. The other day I saw someone say Biden is bad because Roe v. Wade fell under his administration… even though the reason for that was Trump appointed justices. 💀 (2/2)

Fucking insane. Sincerely.

It's a completely, flatly binary choice for anyone with a brain stem and sincerity. It's distilled into the two below images:

Where all major third party candidates are even on the ballot

How many electoral votes the largest of those (green party, a.k.a. Jill Stein) would win if they won every single state they're on the ballot for.

They are literally, legally, incapable of winning the election. They are not on enough state ballots to win and Jill Stein would need to somehow win California and Texas to even "win" all the states they're on the ballot for. Which, again, would still not be enough to win the presidency and throw it to the currently existing Republican House of Representatives. Which would put Trump in office.

It's that straightforward. That simple. That BLARINGLY obvious to literally everyone except these people.

On the one hand you have:

Significant and continuous support for Israel and it's genocide

Record levels of pardons for low-level drug offenses

the gearing up of the strongest anti-trust regime since the early 20th century

the most aggressive NLRB I've seen in my lifetime, with massive wins and institutional changes to help workers

Including getting Rail strike workers a week of sick-leave that gets paid out at the end of the year, which is better than NYC and LA sick leave laws

Millions of people (not enough) getting student debt forgiveness

Some trillion dollars (not enough)of investment in renewable resources and infrastructure

Proposed taxes on unrealized capital gains (a.k.a. how billionaires never have any money but can still buy Kentucky, Iowa, and Twitter)

Effectively an end to overdraft fees

The explicit support of leftist world leaders like Lula de Silva. Who he has explicitly worked with to expand worker rights in South America.

Has capped (some, not enough, only a tiny amount really but it's something) some drug prices, including Insulin.

Reduced disability discrimination in medical treatment

Billions in additional national pre-k funding

Ending federal use of private prisons

Pushing bills to raise Social Security tax thresholds higher to help secure the General Fund

Increasing SSI benefits

and more

vs

Said Israel should just nuke Gaza and "get it over with"

Personally takes pride in and credit for getting Roe v Wade overturned

Is arguing in court that the President should be allowed to assassinate political rivals

Muslim Ban Bullshit, insistently

Actively damages our global standing and diplomatic efforts just by getting obsessed with having a Big Button

Implemented massive tax cuts on ich people, tax hikes on middle class and poor people, and actively wants to do it again

"Only wants to be a dictator for a little bit, guys, what's the big deal"

Is loudly publicly arguing that the US shouldn't honor its military alliances after-the-fact

Tore up an effective and substantial anti-nuclear-proliferation treaty with Iran

Had a DoEd that actively just refused to process student debt forgiveness applications that have been the law of the land for decades now

Has a long record of actively curtailing and weakening the NLRB and labor movement, including allowing managers to retaliate against workers, weakened workplace accommodation requirements for disabled people, and more

Rubber stamped a number of massive mergers building larger, more powerful top companies and increasing monopolistic practices

Fucking COVID Bullshit and hundreds of thousands of unnecessary deaths

Openly supporting fascists and wannabe-bootlicks ("Very fine people" being only the beginning of it

It's really not fucking close.

[deadfrog-and-friends]

Rag Doll washes the tea things when the party is over because otherwise they won't get cleaned. the old Scullery Doll was much better and quicker at it but there were so many tea parties that she broke. one day when they stuck the key in her back it just wouldn't turn anymore and no one knew how to fix it. she just waits in her chair by the fireplace, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. we give her tea every day so she doesn't feel left out but it just grows cold in her lap.

we all have our duties. Rag doll's duty was to tuck everyone into bed at night. that's what she was made for. she was made so a young witch, frightened of the dark, would not be alone. she was made to say "are you comfortable? close your eyes. this one will tell you a story," and such things. the young witch is grown and gone away, and none of the dolls here seem to need that, so Rag stands at the sink with a teacup in one hand and a soapy sponge in another, late into the night. the soapy damp smell has become a part of her. she never feels fully dry. there is only so long she can stand being tumbled in the machine. so every night, instead of crawling into bed with the other dolls, she hangs herself from the clothesline with the fan blowing on her. someday Scullery will be fixed, and this duty will be lifted from her, and the smell will fade, but for now she hardly feels fit to present herself at the tea table.

Mabel helps by bringing all of the tea things to the kitchen, which is wonderful of it, because Rag can't handle the tray and would have to make individual trips for each piece. Mabel Doll has suggested that Rag wear some kind of rubber gloves, there are some that the witch used to use for magical purposes of some kind, but Rag has no fingers. the gloves are too big and the fingers get in the way. Baker Doll who happens to be passing by looks at Rag's cloth stumps and chuckling starts to suggest condoms before Mabel cuts it off. but Rag Doll has tried washing teacups with condoms. they're weirdly greasy. "this one is fine," Rag insists.

"that one is starting to get moldy," Mabel points out.

"a witch will come," says Rag, "and Scullery will be fixed."

~🧽~

years pass. the witch who finally comes can not fix Scullery. "Ro just left you guys here to your own devices," she observes, shaking her head. "Pity."

"miss Ro has many responsibilities," ventures Mable.

"not *that* many," says the new witch. "Scullery here, for example, a beautifully well-made piece of machinery. the silicone coating is lifelike, flexible, and durable. i've never seen its like. it apologizes, by the way, for neglecting the dishes all these years. what a waste, letting it rot out here."

"it needn't worry," ventures Mable. "Rags has taken over its duties."

at this, a giant gear within Scullery cranks into action, clicking over once. some of us jump, some scream, as this is the first we've seen it move in years and our memories are not very long. Scullery's hand jerks, toppling the cup of tea placed in its lap. luckily, its heat resistant silicone will seal out the hot liquid, preventing it from any harm. its skirt will have to be laundered. (we will probably just spot clean it.)

Scullery falls back into permanent stillness. "it's very upset," the new witch remarks. "it said 'that rag doll is least suitable to perform this one's duties."

"well, it's doing its best," says Mabel. "but we hope miss Ro will come back and give it some new body. that one is starting to be like a sponge that is ready to be thrown out."

"we did suggest gloves," says Sweetie. "this one thinks it just enjoys the feeling of decay. not every doll is capable of it, you know. this one will never decay. in a thousand years its parts will still be littering the planet." Sweetie's eyes get a faraway look.

"did it not occur to any of you," the witch says, the misery of the situation beginning to soak in, "that maybe one of the dolls who's not made out of absorbent, um, cloth, would be a better choice for washing the dishes?"

blank stares. finally "these ones' witch is gone."

"but Rag Doll offered to do it. Rag Doll said it was fine."

"we have our duties. this one sweeps the floor and dusts, for example."

"this one is also made of cloth! this one thinks that one is insane for taking on such a task."

"Rag got mad when this one tried to help. Rag screamed at this one."

"no." none of us had given it that much thought.

so the new witch goes into the kitchen to see Rag Doll. "oh, you poor thing," comes out of her mouth before she can stop herself. Rag, startled, falls off the back of the chair it's standing on. it had slunk back into the kitchen, defeated, the moment it had heard the new witch say she could do nothing for Scullery.

the new witch skips over and turns off the faucet. "what is it you were actually made for, little one?" she holds out her hand to help Rag Doll to its feet.

it struggles to remember. "this one... was made to tell bedtime stories and snuggle in bed." the years have not been kind to it. at least it's freshly laundered, having gone through the washing machine and tumbled in the dryer just a few nights ago.

"my name is Zo. may I pick you up?"

not believing what it's hearing, the doll nods, and suddenly it's being lifted into the air! levitated by a magical supportive pair of arms, and pressed into the chest of a Witch. it would take that one's breath away, if that one could breathe. it was like a purpose, long forgotten, was starting to reawaken. "a good weight, a good squish," the witch was muttering. "plenty of latent magic, plenty of spells to decrease the smell of dishes over time. little one, i might just steal you!"

"wha-?"

but before it could object, miss Zo, with Rag Doll in her arms, was hopping on Elizabeta's broom and zooming out through an open window. when Baker stopped in a moment later, all it observed was a sink full of half-washed teacups and the curtains swaying in the wind.

those half-washed teacups stayed in the sink like that for a few more days, and then Baker and Mabel agreed to share the job.

[diejager]

I love your writings so much, I just can't get enough of it!

In Fantasy, where reader was transported into Simon's world, and left pregnant, what if their child got into the same accident as reader and fell into a broken portal that sent the kid to Simon's world, and discovered the truth, placing piece by piece together and found out how they were made. The kid having a hard time choosing between his mom or dad, your choice on what happens when he chooses one of them, or the both of them.

I just can't get enough! You write stuff that's better than any I've ever read before!

I… I’ve been meaning to post Fantasy pt2, but I’m not super proud of it so I’ve been stalling a lot..

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, past rape, forced pregnancy, kidnapping, locked away, isolation, tell me if I missed any.

They thought it was only a rumour, a little tale spun by people to explain their birth. You - their caring and loving mother - had always sang about them being a miracle, a gift that the universe had given you. It made them feel better, made them feel loved and graced, but there was always a growing curiosity, a nagging feeling that grew by every passing year. You always called them “my little miracle” and they never grew out of it, loving the soft lull of your voice and the affectionate tone you used. 

You named them Gwyneth, Tracer had given you the idea, but they often went with Gwyn, a shorter and easier name to say. Gwyn knew you loved them, adored them to the moon despite your busy schedule and life while fighting against Talon and Null Sector, but they’d seen the melancholic stare you gave them when you thought they weren’t looking at you, a sad and despondent gaze. It served to fuel Gwyn’s curiosity, driving them further and further down a hole of mystery and unanswered questions that they just knew you wouldn’t answer. Your pained grimace and slight tremble told them much, the strong and dependable mother that loved them shrinking into themselves and shuddering. It hurt them to see you like that.

That gear malfunction seemed to have sent them elsewhere, away from home and away from you, thrusted into a strange world and lost in the unknown. They were somewhere in England, some place in Manchester from what the maps they found told them, sharing the same street names and landmarks as the Manchester they visited in their world. Yet somehow, somehow, they found a man so familiar with them - suspiciously so - who had frantically asked hundreds of questions about you. 

There was a certain familiarity in the man, but they were apprehensive about how desperate he was, spewing information about himself and your time with him. He’d convinced them enough to make a trip to a military base to have his DNA taken, tested and matched, and Gwyn was… was shocked, they didn’t know if they were simply surprised or terrified. 

If this man - their father - who presented himself as Simon Riley, a dead man, said the truth about how he loved you and cared for you. The stories he shared about your relationship, from the days where he met you at the cafe you worked, your bright and bubbly smile lighting his days, to the lovesick gleam when he continued on to the nights at the bar, drinking and laughing. It sounded all so embellished, prettily drawn to stifle any suspicion from Gwyn, but if Simon was telling the truth, why were you so afraid of telling them who their father was, the way you met him or the time spent by his side?

Perhaps the truth was better left unsaid, left to collect dust and forget, but they had never been one to give up on something, Gwyn was a being of perseverance and curiosity, much like a cat. Maybe it would have saved them the heartache and trauma to uncover something as dark as the locked basement in Simon’s house. Gwyn couldn’t have known, they couldn’t, they simply followed their intuition and everything that Simon had strung up cracked, shattered and fell apart.

It was an… easy decision to make, to leave a broken man who had nearly broken their mother out of desperation and obsessive love, a deep-seated corruption of his being that scared them. Gwyn wanted to return home and embrace you, wrap their arms around your shoulder and sob out their horrible discovery, to apologise for something they hadn’t done but had been the result of. If only Gwyn could find a way back.