#and feel more secure that they need him just as much as he needs them

[redvexillum]

Let me curl up and CRY because this is everything my heart needed and more! The whole mood is just—so tender, so comforting, and achingly sweet that I might melt into a puddle right here!!

The way you’re lying there, unable to focus on a single word because your mind is all tied up in knots over that argument with Lucifer? Relatable. And then, as if summoned by your very thoughts, Alastor’s fuzzy, comforting presence just slides into bed and pulls you close, knowing exactly how to calm you down. His gentle touches, those delicate little patterns on your back, and that spicy, freshly-showered scent—yes, please! He’s a whole therapy session wrapped in one smirking Radio Demon. Hello, operator? Hi, hello, yes, I would like to order one Alastor please?

AND THEN. Lucifer, the King of Hell himself, sneaking back in with his tail between his legs! YASSSSSS. The way he snuggles in, with his desperate apologies, that soft voice pleading with you to forgive him? It’s almost too much! He’s proud and stubborn, but here he is, melting into pure, unfiltered remorse, pressing close to you and begging for you to stay. MY HEART IS NOT READY FOR THIS!

And the absolute security of falling asleep between them, knowing you’re surrounded, cherished, and held? This is pure fantasy comfort right here. You’re totally in your safe space, with two beings who are both powerful and devoted to you, and the way they’re willing to make you feel loved and whole? This is just… perfect.😭❤️

Just a quick little fluffy piece... We love cuddles in bed... I had only intended it to be Alastor but Lucifer refused to be left out, (reader is GN), hope you like it dear as I wrote this incredibly quickly so it's not up to my usual standard...

Anyway...

Here's

Cuddles in bed, starring Alastor, Reader and Lucifer.

Laying in bed one night, the lights dim, the sounds of chirping from the bayou boundary on the other side of the room, your eyes scan the pages of the book in your hands, but unable to comprehend the words, your brow furrows and tears prick your eyes. You’d had an argument with Lucifer earlier and were dwelling on the ramifications of kicking him out of bed for the night.

The fuzzy static of the Radio Demon settling beside you didn’t even stir you as the bed dipped, not until you were pulled into warm strong arms, and the damp, spicy smelling chest of your other love as he cradled you to his body.

“Everything will be fine my Dearest Heart, Lucifer is already making amends and taking care of Angel Dust’s problems with Valentino, just to get back into your good graces.”

He mutters into your hairline with a kiss to your crown while you settle against him, tracing patterns gently on your back, causing a shiver and goosebumps to erupt all over you at the delicate ministrations, his smile widened knowingly, it’s one of the few ways to get you to relax.

Relax you did, almost becoming boneless in his arms, a sound of pleasure moving up your throat as you press a kiss of your own to his scarred chest, breathing in his natural musk, all the more potent from the shower he’d just had.

Your eyes slipping closed as he continues his delicate ministrations, as you hear a door shutting and the sound of scuffling, clothes being discarded, Lucifer clambers into bed behind you, snuggling into your back, his legs flush with yours and burying his face in your hair with repetitive apologies, remorse and reassurances that he’d fixed everything, and when he pleaded with you to stay, you nodded your acquiescence.

You begin slipping away into dreamland, content with your men surrounding you, their strong arms bringing you more peace and comfort than you’d ever felt in life before.

You were theirs and they were yours.

[smallestapplin]

i drop to my knee to ask of thee, prowl smut please!!

i have a vague idea and might go off but ive never seen anyone play with seatbelts imagine going on a drive with prowl and he just gets a little excited and bounds you to the seat with his seatbelt

and omg- if hes brave enough, tells you to touch yourself in his seat and you can see his car rear view just cranking itself just to see you do it

anyways i run now thank you for your time!!

I hope you enjoy! ^^

warnings : reader is GN no genitals described, semi-public, even Prowl can be a menace

🔞mdni 18+Only!🔞

-

-

Prowl merely offered to drive you around, you've been cooped up at base for so long you need to get out, and your sweet boyfriend was more than happy to have a moment away from everything, with you. You were so excited to sit in his driver's seat, so happy to not have to be the one driving.

"Safety first."

Was all he said before the seat belt came down around you, clicking in place, securely around your body, ensuring you stay in your seat. You chuckle at his behavior.

"Prowl, with you as the driver I doubt I'd need it." You're not wrong, Prowl would do anything to keep you from harm, so why would you need to worry?

The bot grumbles under his breath but doesn't lighten up on it, in fact you swear the seat belt got tighter around your chest.

The drive is peaceful, just what you wanted too! You get some nice quiet time with your lover, with no one to bother you two, or demand their own attention. You place your hands on his steering wheel, pretending to be the one driving in case anyone caught a glimpse into the car.

Prowl nearly groans, your hands are much softer than he's use to, he can never seem to get use to your touch, feeling your hands on the leather of his steering wheel, rubbing against it.

It feels so nice-

"Prowl?"

"Hm?"

"The uh....the seat belt is a bit too tight."

He's glad you can't see his face, or how his optics linger around your chest that's now puffed out more. The gears in his brain module turn, until a devilish idea forms.

"Sweetspark, can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah?"

"Touch yourself for me, and I might loosen the seat belt."

Your eyes widen in shock at his request, here? Right now? You look around, it's evening right now and you're still in town, anyone could look around and probably see you! You try to wrap your head around it, until the cab starts to rumble, the bastard focusing the vibrations to your seat.

You squeak, body now shaking with each purr of his engine. If you move your hips just right, you can feel the vibrations right where you need it most-

"Why don't you pull your pants down for me, and show me how needy you are."

His voice is so low, almost a growl as he seems just as needy as you are. You should be telling him no, you're in public, anyone could see you! But you want him just as bad. Prowl lets out an appreciative hum as you carefully wiggle out of your pants, taking your underwear down with them.

You pull your pants down just passed your knees, letting you spread your legs wider so your bot could get a good look at you, already dripping with need. Your sex twitches at the sound of your beloved's deep groan at just the sight.

The scent of your need fills the cab, clouding Prowl's mind.

"Already? It's like you want me to pull over and frag you where everyone could see."

He chuckles, feeling your need slowly drip onto his seat. Your hand slowly making its way between your legs, fingers dipping into your juices to cover them, before you lean further back, allowing yourself easier access to your hole.

Prowl can feel the energon flowing through him, his spike pressurizing ready to fill you and his valve clenching around nothing, much like your own.

"That's it, be a good lil doll for me."

"Prowl..."

Primus, your whimper makes him rev his engine.

"Mm...it's not enough, it's not you." You could cry as your fingers slowly push into your clenching heat, it's not Prowl, just one of his digits fills you up so nicely, stretching you and prepping you to take his spike.

Yours aren't enough anymore.

"Perhaps I spoil you too much."

You thrush two of your fingers deep, desperate to press your sweet spot. Your hips buck, trying to fuck yourself on your digits. You spoil him more than anything, he doesn't even realize he's speeding out of town, needing to find the first hiding spot he can just to take you.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Ready to Love

The three times that Chan uses bad pickup lines on you, and the one time it finally works.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol consumption. Bad pickup lines lol

This is part of the Three Times series. This one is inspired by this reaction.

One

Some would say you’re a bit of a wallflower. You like to stay out of the chaos, like to keep to yourself a little bit more than most. Your friends, like Wonwoo, tell you all the time that that’s not a flaw, but it certainly feels like it is at parties like this when you both blend in and stick out like a sore thumb simultaneously. You’ve tagged along with Wonwoo but have faded into the wallpaper for most of the night. The drinks are bad in a way that the more you have the better they taste. And a refill is where you’re headed to right now to get through the rest of the night.

You’re pouring some more mystery punch in your cup when Lee Chan approaches you, smiling. You give him a polite smile back because you’ve met him a handful of times at things like this. “Hey Y/N,” he’s grinning wildly. “You can get off the dating apps, because I’m here now!”

You blink once, twice, and spill a little punch on your hand. “I’m… not on any dating apps.” 

“Oh, good!” He says, overjoyed. 

“Oh… okay, then. Will you excuse me?” You squirm away from the counter and beeline for Wonwoo, who raises an eyebrow at your speedy return to hide behind him.

“Are you good?”

“Lee Chan… hit on me?” You pose it as a question because it sounds crazy. 

Wonwoo looks entertained. "Did he now? Then why are you hiding behind me?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” You ask blankly. 

Wonwoo sighs, tossing an arm around you. “Dare I say that you’re more awkward than me. That’s quite a feat.”

Two

Wonwoo and Mingyu are hosting a game night at their place. You aren’t competitive and have no bad feelings about being the first out the game. It gives you an excuse to raid the dessert that was brought in. You’re sneaking a fork into the slice of cake as Chan sneaks up to you. “Hey, Y/N!” Chan says cheerfully. You jump, gripping the fork like a weapon, huffing up at him. 

“Hi, Chan,” you mumble.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, you’re a 9, and I’m the 1 you need.” He’s got that stupid grin on his face again, and you blink at him some more, just like last time. Then you're just confused. 

“Chan, at no point as anyone ever said you’re a one.”

His grin somehow gets wider. “Oh? What would I be then?”

You stammer with no answer rattling around in your head. There’s a large crash from the other room and game pieces are scattered across the floor from Seungkwan swiping everything off the table in a fit of rage. “New game!” Jeonghan cries. “Y/N, Chan, are you in?”

You scramble back to the table and are so relieved that you’re sitting nowhere near Chan and can hide your red face behind Wonwoo’s shoulder. Wonwoo pats your shoulder, saying ‘there, there’, though you know he’s not sympathetic at all based on how entertained he looks.

Three

You’re attending one of their concerts. Wonwoo regularly gets you tickets when you’re free and often invites you to hang out with them backstage before and after the show. Security at this venue already knows you well, so they send on you on back to the green room when the show is over. 

Chan is standing out in the hallway when you approach. He looks up and smiles at you, waving. “Hey, Y/N.”

You brace yourself, because you can never predict what’s going to come out of his mouth lately. Still, you smile a little and say, “Great show, as usual.”

“Eh, I was a little distracted. I saw that you were in the crowd tonight.”

You give him a wide look. “Oh, why? I’m at a lot of shows.”

“I know,” Chan snorts. “You spend so much time in my mind that I should charge you rent.” He’s reduced you to furious blinking yet again. 

“I’m… sorry? I’m too broke for that.”

Chan belts out a laugh. “I said I should charge you, not that I would. Ready to go in?”

You blankly nod, following him into the green room. 

Four

It’s another party tonight and you are not really feeling it. You’re sitting out back by the pool to escape the crush inside. “Aren’t you cold?” Chan joins you, sitting by the pool. 

“No. What are you doing out here?” You ask, voice a little chilly. Besides the crowd, seeing him talk to another woman inside with his wide grin makes you sad in a way that you can’t explain. You can imagine the horrible pickup lines he might be giving them and whatever you thought might be just for you seems to not be. You have no right to feel upset about it so you’ve retreated to the backyard.

Chan shrugs. “You weren’t inside.”

“You have plenty of company inside. It’s okay, you can go back in. I might just head home.”

He’s smiling at you still, but looks confused. “Are you ready for another one?” You give him a blank look. “If I were a cat, I’d spend all of my nine lives on you.”

It’s just as ridiculous as any of the others he’s given you over the last few weeks, but there’s something sweet about this one that makes you burst out laughing. “Where do you get these?” You ask, wiping your eyes. 

“Google,” he says simply, wide smile on his face. It makes you giggle again.

“And you decided to try them on me? What, am I a tough nut to crack or something? If it works for me it will work on anyone?” You don’t mean it negatively, in fact you’re seeing a lot of humor in it now that you’re past some of the confusion. But his smile drops, looking confused again.

“Oh no. I save them all for you. I have many more to try if you want to hear them.”

Your confusion is back. “What’s the end goal here?” 

“To get you to like me, maybe go out with me.” You’ve always admired his confidence, especially right now when he says something like that so boldly, without an ounce of nervousness.

“How many more do you have?” You ask eventually, lips quirking up in the corners. 

He’s laughing somewhat maniacally, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “How long do you have?”

“As long as you can keep them coming.” 

You two are some of the last people to leave the party and you wake up to a pickup line in your unread text messages the next day. And the next. And the next…

[ripleyresonance]

Picture Imperfect

Rhea Ripley x Ex-girlfriend reader (18+)

Warnings: Smut/mentions of heartbreak/shitty fiance

Summary: Your ex-girlfriend shows up at your engagement party. Will old habits die hard or the wish of a stable life prevail.

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Everything was perfect.

Or, at least, it was supposed to be.

The garden sparkled in the evening light, every flowerbed meticulously arranged, the white roses glowing like polished porcelain amidst the reds and pinks. The fountains sprayed high in delicate arcs, catching the light as they crisscrossed above the paths. Staff moved with quiet precision, setting out silverware, fluffing napkins, and positioning signs with swirling letters that promised, “To Happily Ever After.”

You took a steadying breath, hands smoothing over the silk fabric of your dress. This is what you wanted, you reminded yourself. You were doing the right thing, the practical thing, the smart thing. He was the safe choice, the perfect match on paper—the dependable, successful kind of man you could build a future with. The man who made sense.

You glanced up at the balcony, catching sight of your fiancé as he gave you a practiced smile and a wink, a sign that everything was falling into place. That this picture of perfection, this life you’d worked so hard to create, was as flawless as it appeared. A life where you could feel… secure. Settled.

This is what I wanted, you told yourself again, a touch more firmly.

Then, arms slipped around your waist, spinning you around, his face beaming with pride. “Don’t you look stunning, my love?”

You forced a light laugh. “Oh, stop, I’m not even—”

“But look at this,” he interrupted, stepping back to admire his suit, catching his reflection in the nearby glass with a grin. You pasted on a bright smile. “Oh, wow, honey, you look… great!”

You moved to slip your arms around him, wanting to feel that warmth, that connection, something real to reassure you. “You know, we do have an hour to ourselves before guests arrive…” You lowered your voice, pressing a little closer. But he darted back quickly, smoothing his jacket with a practiced, panicked motion. “Careful, babe—you’ll wrinkle the suit!”

You let out a laugh that felt strained, the moment already slipping away. Stay calm. This is the right choice.

“Oh, I just thought—” you started, but he cut you off again.

“Hey, use the time to cover that little pimple, hmm?” he chuckled, tapping his cheek. “Can’t have you looking bad in the family photos.”

The words stung, but you swallowed the hurt. This is good, you reminded yourself, holding back any sign of frustration. This is right. He’s dependable. Reliable. The kind of man who would stay.Or be too afraid to leave. 

You took another deep breath, stepping into the dress you’d chosen for the evening—a soft yellow to complement his gray suit. You turned, catching your reflection, and forced another smile.

This is everything you wanted.

Or at least, everything you’d convinced yourself you needed.

But an hour into the party, and your fiancé was long gone, laughing with old friends and family members. You drifted from conversation to conversation, half-listening to his uncle drone on about property values in Morocco, until you finally spotted your friends, Indi and Candace, laughing at a table tucked in the corner.

“There’s the woman of the hour!” Candace cheered as you reached them.

“In a very… uninspired dress,” Indi teased, sticking her tongue out.

You gave her a playful glare, reaching over to swipe her glass of champagne, taking a hearty sip as she flicked you off with a grin.

“It’s the perfect complement to my fiancé’s designer suit, thank you very much,” you replied dryly.

“Right. And your fiancé is… where?” Candace said, glancing around the crowd, while Indi jokingly ducked to look under the table.

You sighed, the forced smile faltering. “Last I saw him, he left me with Aunt Jen to discuss our ideal number of children…”

“And we’re supposed to be happy for you because…?” Candace arched a brow.

“Because… he’s stable? Because he’s… safe?” you offered, trying to sound sure of it.

Indi leaned forward, taking your hand in hers. “It’s just not like you. You used to be the life of the party—the one dragging us to dive bars at midnight, buying rounds of those awful Jell-O shots. You’d be making out with Rhea in the corner before the night was even halfway over.”

A small, wistful smile tugged at your lips. The memories came rushing back—the late nights, the messy laughs, Rhea’s intense gaze that always felt like it saw straight through to your soul. Even the little things, like dancing barefoot in her tiny apartment, felt like magic.

“We can’t live in the past forever, can we?” you said, clearing your throat, pushing the memories back where they belonged. The ache lingered anyway.

Indi hesitated. “But with Rhea—”

“No Rhea mentions tonight, please.” You shook your head, the words coming out more forcefully than you intended. “We broke up for a reason. She was flying all over, living out her dream. And I was… I was just there.”

“But you were happy,” Indi said quietly, her gaze unwavering.

You tried to muster up a convincing smile. “With Matt, it’s different. All he wants is a clean house and someone by his side. I know he’s not just going to disappear. With Rhea… I never knew if she’d stay.”

Candace sighed, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “But when’s the last time you felt real joy? When’s the last time you let loose, or did something that actually excited you?”

You shrugged, forcing a breezy tone. “Can’t you just be happy for me? For one night?”

The worried look Indi and Candace exchanged only deepened the hollow feeling in your chest. But with a tight smile, you excused yourself, making your way back into the crowd, the pressure of perfection building as you found your fiancé’s cousins. They started telling stories about his college days, and you tried to listen, but the voices of your friends kept echoing in your head.

They were right. The old you would’ve laughed at this garden party, with its perfect decor, its soft violin music, its endless parade of well-heeled guests. The old you would be in some dimly lit bar with Rhea, dancing to blaring rock music, the two of you yelling the lyrics into each other’s faces, laughing until your sides hurt. You could almost feel her hands on your waist, pulling you close, her voice murmuring in your ear, “Just you and me, yeah?”

Those were the days when you barely made rent, working long shifts in a retail job you despised. But somehow, even with all the chaos and uncertainty, you were happy, because she was there. You’d found a home in her arms, even if it was temporary.

You let out a shaky breath, memories tugging at your heart, the last conversation with her replaying in your mind. “I can’t keep asking you to wait for me,” Rhea had said that night, her voice low, eyes sad. “I don’t want to be the reason you feel stuck.”

It had felt like she’d ripped something out of you, but you’d told yourself it was the right thing. You wanted stability, something secure. And here you were, right where you’d imagined you wanted to be.

Hours later, as the garden party went on, you finally found your fiancé, engrossed in a conversation about work and upcoming IPOs. You excused yourself, feeling the need for something stronger than champagne. You headed for the bar, ordering a whiskey sour.

Eyes closed, you took a steadying breath, willing yourself to feel the satisfaction you’d hoped this night would bring.

“Tough day, huh?”

Your eyes flew open, and you turned toward the voice.

There, standing beside Indi, was a familiar figure, broad shoulders, muscular arms, dark hair slightly tousled, and that small, crooked smirk you knew so well.

“Surprise,” Indi said softly, giving you a half-smile, as Rhea’s gaze met yours, unflinching.

You stood frozen, your heart pounding in disbelief. This had to be some strange dream. You’d seen Rhea on TV since the breakup, but nothing could have prepared you to see her right here, looking back at you with that familiar warmth in her eyes, like no time had passed at all.

Finally, you managed to choke out, “Indi, can I speak with you…in private?”

Indi gave Rhea a quick, apologetic look before following you a few steps away. The moment you were out of earshot, you hissed, “What the hell, dude!” giving Indi a quick slap on the arm, louder than you intended.

“Don’t hate me!” Indi cringed, raising her hands defensively. “We were out at a bar last week, and I just casually mentioned you were engaged. She practically begged me for the details! And… I may have let it slip about the party,” she mumbled, glancing sheepishly away.

You opened your mouth, ready to let her have it, but stopped short as something sank in. She begged you for details?

Indi’s smile softened, her expression turning a bit sad. “She looked like she was going to burst into tears, if I’m being honest.”

You glanced over your shoulder. There she was, talking with Candace, that easy smile lighting up her face as if she were exactly where she belonged. She was somehow even more striking than you remembered, her frame solid and powerful, the black dress clinging in all the right places. You couldn’t help but remember countless nights when that same dress ended up on your bedroom floor.

Clearing your throat, you whipped back to face Indi, feeling a familiar ache you’d tried so hard to ignore. “And how, exactly, am I supposed to explain to my fiancé that my ex-girlfriend is here?”

Indi smirked, tilting her head toward the far side of the garden, where your fiancé stood, laughing with his friends. “Oh, please. Do you really think he’d even notice if you disappeared for a little while? He looks pretty wrapped up in… himself.”

You chewed your lip, fighting the pull of emotions rising in your chest. From across the garden, Candace caught your eye and gave a subtle, encouraging nod toward Rhea, silently coaxing you to go.

“Fine. Twenty minutes,” you muttered, the words escaping before you could fully think them through. “I’ll talk to Rhea for twenty minutes in the study. If anyone asks where I am, you come and get me.”

Indi’s eyes twinkled with a knowing smile as you took a deep breath, steadying yourself before turning back to Rhea. Candace opened her mouth to say something, but you cut her off.

“Twenty minutes. You, me, library. Start walking,” you ordered, keeping your tone steady as you brushed past Rhea toward the house.

“Yes, ma’am.” Rhea’s reply was light but carried that touch of mischief, and as she shot a concerned look at Indi and Candace, she fell in step behind you.

You moved quickly through the hallways, keeping your steps silent, glancing back now and then to be sure no one was following. When you finally reached the study, you shut the doors behind you, feeling a surge of emotions you’d kept buried for so long.

The words came out before you could stop them. “Do you think my life is some kind of game? Something you can just drop in on whenever you feel like it?”

Rhea’s eyes widened slightly, but she gave a small chuckle. “I’d never play games with your life, but it seems like maybe you are. You used to love making your Sims suffer for fun, but now you’re doing it to yourself.” She cocked her head toward the door. “Seriously, it’s bad enough you’re getting married, but to that guy? I’m not sure his ego could even fit through that doorway.”

You took a breath, caught between the biting truth in her words and the stability you’d worked so hard to build.

Yeah? And what would you even know about my life now?” you scoffed, arms crossing as you kept your gaze on her. “You left it, remember? And look at you now—you seem pretty happy with things. I even saw your face on a toy in Walmart the other day. Real superstar over here."

Rhea sighed, crossing her arms but keeping her eyes on you, a hint of guilt flickering there. “I’m not here to shit on you. It’s just… none of this feels like you,” she said, her voice softer.

“Yeah, well, maybe you don’t know me as well as you think,” you shot back, but Rhea held up a hand, cutting you off gently.

“I know I’m the one who called things off,” she started, voice catching slightly. “And I know it’s been nearly two years, but… I can’t just stand by and watch you ruin your future like this.” She took a small step closer, as if afraid you’d move away.

“‘Loved,’” you corrected her sharply, deflecting. But she stepped even closer, her hand reaching out to catch yours, her grip firm and familiar.

“Love,” she whispered, voice low, her eyes locked onto yours. The intensity in her gaze made your heart stutter, the sincerity of it so raw, just like the day she’d left you. She held your gaze, and you felt the walls you’d built start to crack.

For a moment, everything felt like it had back then—the nights you’d spent together, laughing, arguing, knowing each other so deeply it hurt. But you forced yourself to pull back, snapping back to the present as you broke free of her hold.

“No… no,” you muttered, stepping around her. “I’m not doing this with you again, Rhea. I can’t. You were my everything, and you walked away.” You felt your voice rising, your frustration and heartbreak bubbling over. “You were my world, Rhea. I would have done anything for you—God, I would’ve moved heaven and earth if you’d asked, no questions asked. But it wasn’t enough, was it?”

Her face softened, her posture almost crumbling as she took in your words, letting them land. “I thought… I thought I was doing what was best for you,” she whispered. “Letting you go, leaving, it wasn’t because you weren’t enough. It was because I loved you enough to think… you deserved more.”

You felt a bitter laugh slip out, even as tears began to blur your vision. “So what’s the plan here, then? You want me to call off my engagement, break off my stable, safe future… for you? Just because you finally figured out what you lost?”

“Please, just… listen.” Rhea’s voice was soft, pleading. “I know I messed up. I know I made the choice for both of us, and I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I can’t stand the thought of you spending yours unhappy, pretending it’s enough.”

You shook your head, trying to focus, to keep your heart locked up tight. “Maybe I don’t deserve more. Maybe predictable, maybe… comfortable… maybe that’s enough for me.” But even as you said it, you knew she could hear the crack in your voice.

She stepped forward, hands shaking slightly as they cupped your face. “Look at me. Are you really happy?”

Her question made your heart ache. You wanted to scream, to push her away, but as her thumb brushed against your cheek, something broke inside you. Your voice was barely a whisper. “I don’t know anymore.”

In that moment, the gap between you felt unbearable. And before you could second-guess yourself, you reached out, grabbing her face and pulling her down into a kiss, fierce and hungry, every ounce of anger and heartbreak pouring out. Rhea tensed, stunned, but then her hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, her kiss deepening as if she’d been starved for this as long as you had.

It felt like time had rewound, like everything you’d both lost was suddenly within reach. Her lips tasted of salt and need, her arms strong and steady as they lifted you effortlessly, guiding you back to the desk. She set you down carefully, her forehead pressed to yours as her fingers trailed up your chin, finally tracing the outline of your lips.

“Let me make it up to you,” she murmured, voice rough with emotion, her eyes fixed on you with a seriousness that took your breath away.

Your heart pounded as you traced your fingers along her jaw, memorizing the feeling. “I shouldn’t… this is crazy…”

But she silenced you with another kiss, gentler this time, her fingers tangling in your hair, every touch filled with unspoken promises, like an answer to the questions you’d buried. And suddenly, you couldn’t hold back.

You parted your lips slowly, allowing her fingers to slip inside, and without thinking, your tongue moved over them, instinctively savoring the warmth of her touch. You held her gaze the entire time, knowing exactly what it did to her—that flicker of excitement and the way her lip caught between her teeth, barely containing a smile as she watched you.

A slow, unspoken tension passed between you, thickening the air, her fingers lingering just a moment longer than they needed to. The intensity in her eyes was impossible to ignore, dark with longing, as though the world beyond this moment had ceased to matter entirely.

“You’re always such a good girl for me huh.” Rhea smirked removing her fingers. 

“And I’m so sorry I left you aching for so long.” Rhea said starting to move the silk up your thigh with her other hand making you gasp. 

“Ill make sure to..thoughouly appologize.’ Rhea said slipping the wet fingers under your panties. 

You cursed under your breath leaning back and arching your back a little pushing out your breast. 

“I should have known you would be wet for me. No matter how much time has passed. No matter who your with. This will always be my…fucking…cunt.” Rhea said pressing harder into your clit making you moan. 

She continued slowly rubbing up and down your slit making small circles on your clit she knew drove you crazy. 

“You fucking asshole..please-oh my god.” you groaned as she pushed them into your entrance. Your pussy molding to her fingers like it was a habbit as you groaned and squirmed under her grasp. 

“Cmon sweetheart let out those pretty moans for me I can tell your close. Cum on my fingers just like you used to.” Rhea encouraged picking up the pace and pushing  you over the edge. 

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Rhea’s hand found the slit in her dress, sweeping it aside with practiced ease. In one fluid movement, she dropped to her knees before you, lifting your leg over her shoulder with a confidence that made your pulse race. Her eyes flicked up to yours, a silent promise passing between you, deep and familiar.

“Rhe wait it’s to sensitive I- fuck!” you yelped as her tounge danced across your clit. 

“Cmon baby I know you can give me one more. I could hear you moan all day.” Rhea groaned pressing her lips against your clit and taking it in her mouth. 

The instant her mouth met you, a shockwave rippled through your body, forcing you to arch back as a raw, unfiltered moan escaped your lips. Your hand flew to her hair, tangling in the soft, dark strands, and you felt the cold press of your engagement ring catch, glinting there as if it were a witness to the undeniable pull between you. The weight of that ring—the promise it held to someone else—should have felt wrong, but as her grip tightened on your thigh and she took you deeper, it only made this feel more inevitable, more electric, like a secret you’d longed to surrender to.

Shame should have washed over you, but all you felt was a raw, unapologetic hunger. You’d never thought you’d find yourself on this side of betrayal, but here you were, and the way Rhea moved, the way she knew every unspoken part of you, eclipsed anything you’d felt in years. This wasn’t something you could walk away from—no, not now.

The sloppy erotic sounds between your legs filled the room, blending with your own ragged breaths. When her eyes met yours, a flicker of something deep, an understanding you hadn’t felt with anyone else, you could feel yourself spiraling toward that edge again. Words tumbled out, almost involuntarily, as your walls dropped, and all the feelings you’d tried to bury started to surface, raw and undeniable.

“Please Rhea, take me away from here. Make me feel like this every night again. I’ll be your good girl just like I used to-mhp! Just please.” You panted closer to the edge. 

“I promise you my love. Its you and me against the world.” Rhea smiled into your cunt as she started swirling her tounge in an unholy manner making you cover your own mouth before a scream escaped as you came harder than you could have ever imagined in her mouth. 

Rhea lapped up every drop as excruciatingly slow as possible saving every drop. 

You leaned back against the desk, heart still racing, trying to catch your breath. The sunset filtered through the window, casting a warm glow that caught on the diamond of your engagement ring—one you suddenly felt ready to leave behind.

“Did you… really mean it?” you panted softly, looking up at Rhea.

She stayed kneeling in front of you, her eyes softening, serious in a way that left no room for doubt. “I’m already on one knee, aren’t I?” she whispered.

You half-expected her to flash that familiar smirk, but when you looked down, her expression was unguarded, vulnerable. She was really waiting for you.

“So, you think you can just waltz into my engagement party, plead for me to take you back, have your way with me in my fiancé’s study, and—” your words faltered, breath hitching as the weight of it all sunk in. “And act like I’m supposed to forget that you broke my heart?”

A flicker of worry crossed her face as you tilted her chin up to meet your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“Took you long enough, Ripley,” you said, the smile breaking free.

Rhea’s face lit up with a joy that felt almost childlike. In one swift move, she scooped you up, spinning you around as laughter spilled out of you both, the weight of years melting away.

When she finally set you down, she looked at you with a promise in her eyes. “I���m going to keep that smile on your face every day,” she murmured, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that felt like forever, yet left you wanting more.

A knock on the door jolted you both back to reality.

“Hey, groom’s on the hunt!” Indi called from outside. “Something about a speech he wants to make for you.”

You felt panic bubble up, but Rhea squeezed your hand, a playful glint in her eye. “I’ll see you in ten minutes,” she said, already plotting. “I think I have some sprinklers to… accidentally set off.”

 She gave your hand one last kiss before slipping toward the door, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Oh, and sweetheart… might want to leave that ring on the desk. Don’t want any misunderstandings about whose fiancée you are.”

You grinned, unable to help yourself as you slipped off the ring, feeling the lightness that came with it. Following her out the door, you found Indi waiting, arms crossed, eyebrows raised.

“So, what kind of trouble are we about to get into?” she asked, smirking.

You couldn’t help the grin spreading across your face, feeling lighter than you had in years. 

“Might want to ditch those heels, Indi,” you said, voice bubbling with excitement. “I’ve got a future to catch.”

Hellooooo lovelies I hope you are well! I had this idea the other day between writing vampire part 2 so I had to provide it since rhea is on hiatus anyway. I DO NOT CONDONE CHEATING THIS IS A FANTASY.

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Obsolete

cw: nsfw themes/implications, abuse, manipulation, fear, brief emeto mention, choking. (this chapter can be skipped without losing out on plot, it's a bit heavy)

previous // T$$ Masterlist

~ ~ ~

Sahota slouches on the bed, both feet planted firmly on the tile floor as if that’s enough to keep him tethered, keep his thoughts from drifting too far. He holds the gag in both hands, turning it over and over and over, watching the metal sections that make up most of its structure catch the light. 

He doesn't know long Harbor had been there when he arrived, already shaking from the stress on his body, tension to his shoulders and core brought on by the heavy leather cuffs that secured him to the foot of the bed.

He'd tried to pull away when Sahota knelt to remove the gag.

“F-fuck off.”

“This isn't what you want, Harbor.”

“It's what Vic wants.”

He'd cursed and insulted and tried to elicit a reaction that wasn't get out from him, but in the end he'd left.

“You're jealous,” he'd spat as Sahota closed the door behind him. There was something desperate in his tone, like he hoped if he said it with enough fervor he'd believe it, like he wished a rivalry was the only thing to worry about.

Like he was willing to thrust his hand into a fire just to feel the warmth. 

“You're just fucking jealous.”

He isn't. Is he? Jealous is too simple a way of putting it. He wants Vic's gaze to linger on him the way it does Harbor, he wants the idle touches as they pass in the hall, the I'm proud of you's and I know you can do it's.

He needs his attention as much as he loathes it.

Shouldn't he be grateful his master's lust is being directed elsewhere? 

Doesn't it mean he isn't enough anymore? What then? If Vic is finally tired of him, what does that mean? Will he be thrown out, abandoned? Or will he become another loose end that needs to be tied up?

It felt like that during their mock interrogation. It's been months since he's seen Vic that angry, much less at him, he's been far too careful for that. He never should've tried, never should've given the others the hope that they could take an alternate path. He's the reason they're trying to salvage control, he's the reason Vic’s tightening his fist around them.

If he hadn't gone behind his back with the challenge, would they have been allowed to to go after Manak?

Would Manak even be lost in the first place?

Sahota can't fight a grimace. He's learned this lesson a thousand times over already; he should know better. 

You can't say no to Vic.

He knows that, knows the consequences, and yet here he is. He can only hope it won't be Harbor that suffers for it.

The handle turns. Sahota half expects it to be the belligerent trainee, back with more choice words and arguments. When the door reveals Vic, a part of him wants to curl up and hide, reduced once again to a terrified kid who should fucking know better.

He wants to shrink under Vic’s gaze as they meet eyes, silence drawing out between them, but he doesn’t, instead stiffening his spine against the fear that curdles in his stomach, instead daring to open his mouth.

“How long would you have left him here?” A safe enough place to start. Not an accusation, He lets his hands fall into his lap, the gag still held between them. 

Vic leans against the doorframe, arms crossing his chest. “Would've been going on six hours now, if you hadn't cut him loose.”

“Six hours,” Sahota repeats flatly.

“I've kept you for thrice that.”

“He isn't me.”

“And you hate that, don't you?” He pushes himself up from the wall, moving into the room, closing in. “Why? I know you don't care for him.”

Because Vic always knows everything, because Sahota can never hide things from him. He doesn’t care for Harbor. He doesn’t let himself care for anyone these days. Still, under the envy and the fear there’s a stark horror at the thought that someone else will take his place, will suffer as Vic's plaything, will render him pointless.

“Am I not enough for you?” he says.

Vic clicks his tongue, cupping Sahota’s cheek with a warm hand. “Is that what you're afraid of, little spy? Being replaced?”

Yes. No. “Why do you want him?”

“He's a flashy thing. Caught my eye.” Vic chuckles. “So desperate for any human interaction he'd disembowel himself for a pat on the head.”

Is that what it comes down to? Another person for Vic to hurt, another body in his control. He shakes his head. “Vic—”

He's silenced with a kiss. There's something foreign in it. A new excitement, amusement that he cares about this, that he's scared.

“He won't replace you. He'd make a good dog though, don't you think?” He nuzzles into Sahota's neck. “Once you warm up to the idea, maybe I'll even let you play with him.”

Sahota jerks away, a breath lodging in his throat. He couldn't, he couldn’t. The idea of Vic dragging Harbor into this stings enough. The thought of playing along—of holding the younger man down, hurting him, controlling him—is too much to hold. He wants to throw up.

“Is that a no?”

“Whatever you want to do to him, you know I can take,” Sahota says, his voice low and insistent. He’s nearly pleading. He doesn’t know why he’s pleading for this.

It should feel good, shouldn't it? To know he may never again take the brunt of Vic's affections, to be elevated to a place of control.

It doesn't. It burns like bile.

“I know.” Vic’s hand strokes his cheek, thumb coming to rest on his lower lip. “When's the last time you cried for me?” It seems more a musing than a question he wants answered, but even if it were, Sahota doesn’t think he can speak to it.

He can’t remember the last time himself.

No, that's not true. Just days ago, he was crying, but not for Vic. It feels like such a potent secret he’s nearly purged it from his mind, and now he's afraid his master will see it on his face, the weakness he dared to show to these outsiders.

Ander, my name is Ander.

His own words echo back to him in a way that makes him shudder. By some stroke of luck, Vic doesn't notice, his eyes on the gag in Sahota's lap.

His hand falls away from his face, and he fixes him with a searching gaze. “Are you afraid he makes you obsolete?”

Sahota drops his eyes. “I… Yes.” It seems too simple an answer, but it’s the easiest explanation. One that might satisfy Vic.

“And you’d prefer it if I left him alone?” He tips his chin up with a finger. “If it stays just you and me?”

“Yes.” His answer is quieter this time. Vic hmms, and the silence seems to stretch for a long moment, every wordless breath drawing more fear into Sahota, pulling tension into his body. Then, Vic suddenly pushes him back onto the mattress, one hand curling in his hair, the other cupping his chin as he kisses him, hot and fierce. Sahota returns the kiss until he’s breathless.

“Hands behind your back.”

He obeys without much thought. It’s been a while since Vic’s tied him up for this. Months, at least. Silky rope winds around his wrists, and then he’s rolled onto his back, heart hammering with anticipation. There’s fear there too, but he tries to shove it down. Isn’t this what he wants? Isn’t this what he just begged for?

He opens his mouth to say something, but Vic’s hands shoot out, locking around his throat, squeezing, cutting off air. Panic floods through him, but he has Vic's touch memorized. His body knows not to respond, to take it, no matter how much his mind wants to rebel.

“What if I did want to replace you, Ander?”

Sahota’s eyes widen at the words, barely audible over the blood rushing in his ears. His body spasms from the lack of air, heels digging into the mattress, but Vic doesn't let up.

“What if I am tired of you, hm? What can you do about it?”

His wrists burn, the rope digging into them as his arms shake involuntarily, reaching to remove the pressure. No… No, he can’t mean it, Vic can’t mean it, he’s his. He’s been his for twelve years, he can’t just be replaced, he can’t just let the fucking cycle start all over again. Tears sting his eyes but refuse to shed, his mouth opening wide, making soundless pleas.

It can’t end this way, it can’t end this way, Vic, sir, Shepard, please—

“You are everything I made you. Without me, you'd be nothing. If I want someone new, you'd better just be fucking grateful you still have a seat at the table.”

His lungs burn, body shuddering, vision blackening at the corners, closing in—

—And then Vic’s hands relax, slipping away from his throat. The spy gasps for breath, rolling onto his side and curling his knees in, unsure whether he’s shaking from the lack of air or the sheer fear, the knowledge that Vic could’ve done it, would've done it. He would’ve done it and not even batted an eye.

He's not allowed to hold the thought for long before Vic seizes him by the hair, jerking him into a half-sitting position, his face stony and empty when the spy looks up at him through blurring vision.

Something almost like satisfaction crosses his master’s face.

“There's the tears.”

~

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden ,

@snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes ,

@clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 , @neverthelass

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Boss Part 4 -Oneshot

Word count: 1915

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“I don’t understand why this is a big deal,” Bucky groaned, picking up his work bag and adjusting his suit jacket.

“What do you mean?  It’s a big deal in any relationship,” Y/N said incredulously.  “Meeting the family is a big step.”

“It’s just Sunday brunch with my sister,” Bucky said, giving her an unimpressed look.

“The sister that I know so little about, other than the fact that she and I have similar traumatic experiences and she’s a designer.  Yeah, I’m feeling really prepared,” Y/N replied sarcastically, grabbing her own bag and walking to the garage.  Bucky was right behind her, unlocking the car and sighing heavily.  Y/N rolled her eyes.  

“Why would you need to be prepared?  It’s not a business lunch.  You just be yourself.  I think you both would get along really well,” he continued as he pulled the car out of the garage.

“Sure.  We’re out of the house, no more home talk,” Y/N said, trying to shut down the conversation.

Bucky gave her a frustrated glance before putting it in drive and taking off.  The drive was silent, which was out of the ordinary.  Y/N knew she was being a little ridiculous.  It was just a brunch.  With his sister.  But she didn’t know much about her.  And meeting new people, especially people that were important to Bucky, was always nerve-wracking.  What if they didn’t get along?  What if his sister hated her?  What if she saw something in Y/N that Bucky didn’t see and told him he deserved better or should find somebody else?  As secure in her relationship as she felt, this was introducing a new dynamic into it, something deeper and more serious between them.  

During the work day Y/N was much quieter and curt with Bucky.  Her regular friendly, polite banter was gone, and she was getting looks from others in the office.  “Are you okay, Y/N?” Steve asked while they were both in the break room getting lunch.

“What?  I’m fine,” Y/N said, frowning at him.

He gave her an arched eyebrow.  “Uh huh,” he said, unconvinced.  “Trouble at home?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  Steve was the only one who knew that she and Bucky were together.  “Did he say something to you?” she asked him.

“No.  But neither of you are good at keeping a straight face,” he replied.  

“Good to know,” she huffed and grabbed her food.  “Bye Steve.”

“Bye Y/N,” he sing-songed back at her as she marched out of the break room.  She walked out of the office to the hallway leading to the elevators, then quickly veered into the stairwell.  She sat down on the steps, using her legs as a tray to eat her food.  She just wanted some peace and quiet for a moment as she ate.

“What are you doing in here?” Bucky’s voice echoed through the stairwell as he opened the door.

“Eating lunch,” Y/N said around a big bite in her mouth.  

“No shit Sherlock.  Why are you in the stairwell?” Bucky asked sharply.

Y/N took her time chewing then swallowing her bite.  “Just wanted some alone time.  I still have 20 minutes for lunch.  I’ll be in soon.”

Bucky watched her silently, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze, focusing on her food and taking another big bite.  “This is ridiculous,” he griped, then walked down the stairs enough to be at eye level with her.  “Quit acting like you’re this shy, nervous little thing that can’t handle meeting new people.  It’s just Becca.  I don’t understand why you’re so worried about it.”

“Uh uh uh, Mr. Barnes.  We’re at work.  No home conversations at the office,” Y/N said, taking another bite.  “But that’s good I know her name now.”

Bucky blinked, his jaw tight as he glared at her.  “Okay, you’ve made your point.  I haven’t told you much about her because I didn’t feel like it was my place.  But she’s the only family I have left, and I want the two most important women in my life to know each other.”  Y/N glanced at him at those words, seeing how serious he was.  She didn’t say anything, and his frown deepened.  “So you’ll suck me off at work, but you won’t talk to me about anything personal?”

Her eyes widened at him mentioning their sexual moment weeks before late at night in his office.  She glared back at him before standing up.  “Don’t be an asshole.  You’re the one who said work is work, and home is home.  I was just following orders, boss.”  She turned to walk toward the stairwell door, opening the door then slamming it shut behind her.  She marched back into Bucky’s office, grabbing her things before going back up to the front.  Bucky was just walking back in as she came out.  “Kamala, I’m not feeling well.  I’ll forward Mr. Barnes’ meeting schedule to you so you’re aware of who is coming in and when for today,” Y/N said, tapping the counter to Kamala’s desk.

“Oh, I’m sorry, well get feeling better!” Kamala said, giving her a sad look.

“Thank you,” Y/N said.  She gave Bucky a hard look before walking back out of the reception area to the elevators.  Bucky was right on her heels.

“So now you’re just running away?” Bucky accused when she pushed the button for the elevator.  

“No, I’m taking some time to collect myself,” Y/N said, keeping her tone as professional as possible.  

“Y/N–” “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all,” Y/N retorted as the doors opened for the elevator.  She stepped inside and pushed the main level floor button.

“How are you going to get home?” Bucky asked, holding the door open with his hand. 

“I’m not going home,” Y/N said quietly.

Bucky’s face twisted from frustration to sadness.  “Doll–”

“Don’t,” Y/N said, reaching up and moving his hand away.  The doors closed on him, his sad eyes haunting her.  Y/N gritted her teeth as the elevator moved down, literally biting back tears.  When the doors opened she left the building, ordering an Uber.  She had given up her apartment months ago after the whole debacle with her ex-boyfriend stalking her, so she had nowhere else to go.  But that didn’t matter.  The Uber brought her to Bucky’s house, where she ran in and packed a light, weekend bag before getting back in and was later dropped off at a nice hotel.  Now seemed as good a time as any for a short vacation.

***

Later that night as she was cuddled in bed in her bathrobe, finishing her last bit of room service dinner, a call came to her room phone.  Y/N frowned at the phone, waiting until the second ring before reaching over and grabbing it.  “Hello?”

“Hello, Miss Y/L/N?  This is Gwen, one of the front desk receptionists?”

“Uh, yes, how can I help you?”

“There’s a man here who says he’s here to see you.  James Barnes?”

Y/N rolled her eyes.  Of course he knew where she was.  She had forgotten that her location was still enabled on the work phone, sitting right next to her on the nightstand.  “Yeah, you can send him up,” she sighed.

“Okay, thank you.”  

Y/N shifted herself up and out of the bed, annoyed at having to move from her comfortable position.  She adjusted her robe and paused the show she was watching on the TV when she heard a knock on her door.  She took a deep breath to steady her thundering heart as she walked over, unlocked the door and opened it.  Bucky stood there in casual clothes and holding a backpack, a sad expression on his face as his gaze met hers.

They stood staring at each other for a long moment.  Bucky swallowed harshly, then took a step toward her.  “Doll,” he started.  Y/N inhaled deeply.  “Can I come in?”

She paused for a moment then nodded, stepping back to give him room to walk in.  Bucky gave her a small smile and walked around her into the room.  Y/N closed the door and followed him inside.  He stood waiting for her, and as she sat back down on the bed she gestured for him to sit on the chair across from her at the sitting area.  He quickly sat down, leaning on his elbows against his knees.  Y/N didn’t know what to say, so she just waited.  Bucky gnawed on his lower lip before sighing.

“I’m sorry, doll,” he said quietly.  “I’ve been thinking about it all day, and…I shouldn’t have gotten angry or defensive over it.  Meeting family is a big step, so I understand why you would be worried or stressed.  I meant what I said, though.  You and Becca are the most important people in my life.  I just thought that maybe, since things with us have been getting pretty serious, that it was time to introduce you to her.”

Y/N nodded, looking down at her hands.  “I’m sorry, too.  I just panicked.  You’ve given me no reason to be worried or stressed about it, I just…I don’t know.”  She shook her head, upset with herself.  “And then I freaked out and ran away.  I don’t know how to do this whole healthy communication thing.  I’ve never experienced it before.”

Bucky stood and walked to the bed, sitting next to her.  He slowly reached a hand out and gently grasped her hand closest to him.  “It’s gonna take practice, for both of us.  And we’re going to mess up sometimes, like today.  But I, I love you,” he said, squeezing her hand.  “I don’t want to lose you over something that we can fix.  So…can we just try this again?”

Y/N smiled.  “Yeah.”

Buck smiled at her.  “Okay.  So, I was thinking about inviting my sister to Sunday brunch at that bottomless mimosa place you love.  Would you be okay with that?”

Y/N squinted her eyes teasingly.  “So…officially meeting the family?  That’s kind of a big step, don’t you think?”

Bucky huffed a laugh.  “Yeah, it is.  But it’s a step I wanna take with you.”

Y/N’s cheeks were starting to hurt with how hard she was smiling.  “Okay,” she agreed.

He smiled brightly back at her.  “Awesome.  You’re gonna love her.  Her name is Becca.  She’s older than me by two years.  Very smart and artistic.  She designed my house, you know?” He joked, winking at her.

“She did?” Y/N joked back.  “Wow.  And she must be really pretty if she looks anything like you.”  

Bucky blushed at the compliment.  “You tryna sweeten me up?” he smirked.

“Maybe a little bit,” Y/N said, turning to face him more.  She lifted her free hand and traced it up his arm holding her other hand to his shoulder then across his chest.  “I love you,” she said quietly, leaning over and kissing his shoulder.

Bucky smiled softly at her.  “I love you, doll.”  

She glanced at the backpack he brought.  “Did you pack up some stuff just in case I let you stay?”

“Yep,” Bucky said shamelessly.  “I can’t really sleep without you.”  He suddenly pushed her back onto the bed and tucked her into his side.  “Thank you for agreeing to meet her.”

Y/N smiled.  “I’m sure it’ll be great.”

[wastemanjohn]

TW misogyny emotional abuse sexual assault

i am not going to use the term 4b movement for this post because I have recently become aware it has problematic/transphobic associations. however the idea of decentering men - not dating men, not marrying men, not having sex with men, not having children with men - is gaining traction for a reason. it was gaining traction before the US election, and after yesterday - well. i don't need to explain do i?

it's terrifying. the hatred of women. the enjoyment of the hatred of women, the revelling in the hatred. the women who join in with the hatred, maybe thinking they're different. maybe thinking they'll be spared from it. that they can camouflage, hide somehow.

it won't work.

on a more individual level, so many of us have fucking had enough. we are tired. we are sick of the podcast bros demeaning us for our "body counts." we are done with the constant policing and control of what we do with our bodies, and in america's case the very real and terrifying threat to life and health that has arisen from that. we are done with the daily objectification, humiliation and harassment. we are done with weaponised incompetence, we are done with having our careers and areas of knowledge mansplained to us, we are done with being sluts and prudes and always being wrong no matter what.

can you blame us? can you really fucking blame us?

men are conditioned to hate us. some recognise that and work on it. unfortunately, many, many more do not.

the first time i heard labour by paris paloma i bawled my eyes out and couldn't entirely understand why.

the first time i read the husband stitch by carmen maria machado i bawled my eyes out and couldn't entirely understand why.

i understand now.

i think many of us have quietly stopped dating men before we even knew there was a movement around it. at least it seems that way to me. but just speaking on my own experience - i haven't really been dating men since early 2023. i briefly dated men again a few months back; i abruptly stopped because it sucked. because, hand on my heart, since i stopped dating men - i have never been happier, freer, and more secure in myself. i have never been more fucking content.

my life is beautiful now. i have my wonderful friendships. i have my loving bonkers family. i have my career, i have my aspirations, i have my wealth of interests and hobbies, i have my beautiful (four legged) sons. all of these things are so much sweeter when i can enjoy them in peace.

peace; when i'm not picking up after him because he can't be bothered to walk two feet to put his dirty underwear in the laundry basket. when i'm not heartbroken for months because i thought i was going to marry him but he had another long term girlfriend and a whole other life that he kept secret from me for so embarrassingly long. when i'm not doing mental gymnastics to excuse that time he made jokes about my sexual abuse, when he was the first person i really told, or the time he didn't comfort me and didn't understand why i was so upset when another ex of mine was in court for viewing CSAM. when i'm not spending another weekend alone due to him cancelling at the last minute yet again for his mates. when i'm not feeling vulnerable and confused because we've negotiated a scene and he purposely crosses my limits because it's hot to him (so many times). when i dont have to listen to everyone say what a nice guy he is but he's been pressuring me for nudes for the last two weeks.

when he can't handle my proportionate emotions and suggests i'm just being mentally ill when i'm trying to communicate that he's hurt me. when he tells me it's a good thing i've taken up dance because i'll get more toned and be able to open my legs wider. when he drives really fast and erratic because he's pissed off with me and wants to scare me. when he lies to me about having huntington's disease so i won't break up with him.

every one of these is a different guy BTW. and this is just off the top of my head.

how many stories do you have?

anyway 100/10 highly recommend being a spinster with cats. society hates strong, self assured women who can make it alone. i have never wanted to be that woman more.

and no - before anyone comes at me I am not saying all men are monsters or that only men are abusive. i do not hate men just for being men. i have some great men in my life as friends and family. i am merely making the right choice for me based on my experiences, based on how hostile the current climate is towards women, and i support the fuck out of anyone who is doing or wants to do the same. sorrows and fucking prayers to anyone who has a problem with that.

i don't see why i should keep my experiences to myself. why any of us should.

my DMs are open for anyone who needs someone to talk to about this stuff.

[danikamariewrites]

Happy Spooky Season! I was wondering if I could request a platonic Rowan looking out for Aelin's teen sister? I feel like he'd be a strict, but protective big brother by insisting on dropping her off at places, like the theatre, picking her up again, accompanying her into Orynth, guarding her during balls (if he's busy then assigning his former cadre to do it for him), etc. And she gets annoyed by it, until his behaviour comes in clutch one day when he spots her in some kind of sticky situation and helps her out.

Big Brother

Rowaelin x little sister!reader

Warnings: short but sweet

When Rowan first came into your and Aelin’s life you were very annoyed by him

He was always in your business and annoying you

But you annoyed him so things were even

You didn’t trust Rowan at first. Hell you didn’t trust anyone around your older sister, especially someone you could see her falling for

Aelin told you about Chaol and you hated him. Who was he to say that you and your sister were monsters?

After Maeve and Erawan you worked out your differences with Chaol and Dorain

Speaking of Dorian, you had a massive crush on him but Rowan shut that down real quick

He also shut down your crush on Petrah Blueblood, “one person in this group being with a witch is enough.” Rowan had scolded. You just stuck your tongue out at him and stomped off to your room

Aelin and Rowan were like your surrogate parents

Your big sister had looked after you all your life

Aelin was your protector and made sure you never had to train to be what she was, but enough to fight and cause the most harm to someone who was trying to hurt you

You were a feral child around Arobynn because you always got bad vibes from him. You also hated the way he looked at your sister

Aelin did baby you, she still does and so does Rowan, but she never hid the truth from you

Once Terrasen was rebuilt, as princess, you started to get involved with the community. Your main focus being schools and the public library

When not attending his kingly duties Rowan was escorting you from event to event, making sure you stayed safe

“Ro, there has never been an attempt. I don’t need a babysitter, I can handle myself.” Rowan raised a silver brow at you. “There hasn’t been one because I’m good at my job, little sister.” The darkness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine and made you think about your security detail and how protected you and your kingdom are

During special events if Rowan can’t watch you like a hawk one of the Cadre is assigned to you

Fenrys is for low risk events; putting the two of you together is beyond chaotic. You two are the ultimate sibling duo and you always have fun with Fenrys. He absolutely sees you a little sister and loves having you as a companion especially after Connall

Lorcan is for high risk outings; Lorcan is scary dog privilege. He stares down anyone who even breathes in your direction. Lorcan stands faithfully by your side, arms crossed and weapons on display, for hours on end. As much as you would like to mess with him, you actually behave when Lorcan is around. You know if he’s escorting you it’s serious

Gavriel is just back up; He’s your uncle! Of course he’s more than happy to drop everything to be with his niece. Plus he spoils you to make up for years lost out on family time

As much as you find Rowan’s presence annoying at times there finally came a day where you were thankful for his protection

Heading out to a speaking engagement at the primary school you were trying to find any Cadre members to escort you instead of two security guards

Rowan has your schedule, so he should’ve been free. But alas, the buzzard was stuck in meetings with your sister

Uncle Gav was out doing you have no idea what, Lorcan was home with Elide, and Fenrys was away with Vaughn, who you still haven’t actually laid eyes on by the way

You opted to take two of your normal guards to escort you

But without Rowan to walk them through security protocols you were walking around without knowing about any threats

Everything was going smooth. You made it to the school, your talk with the children went very well! They loved to hear stories from you about the Queen and King. They loved to play with you and tell you anything that pops into their little heads

It wasn’t until you were on the way back to the castle that trouble found you

Your carriage was stopped abruptly, the horses neighing and rearing up on their hind legs at the danger in the middle of the road

“Stay here, princess!” Your guards shout, leaving you alone closed in the carriage. You weren’t afraid at first. Not until you heard shouting and fighting. You couldn’t hear much. The men who stopped you were a small group. They wanted revenge on Aelin for killing Dorian’s father. Who know loyalists to the former King of Adarlan were around

Before things could escalate further a flash of white light had you shielding your eyes as you peer out the window, the men thudding against the ground

“Take them to the prison!” You had never been so relieved to hear Rowan’s voice. You stayed locked in the carriage until he came and got you

When Rowan opens the door you fling yourself into him, wrapping your arms around him neck. “I have never been so grateful for you not minding your business.” Your brother laughs, hugging you back. “Let’s get you home, Aelin has been worried.”

[breadraccoon]

Gwen angst thoughts. But when shit gets rough in her life, Gwen has a bad habit of ghosting the people closest to her.

Part of it is because a lot of her problems are Spider-woman’s problems so she can only talk about them with a small select group of people, but also she hates feeling like a burden. I just see her as a very independent kind of person. Her ability to resolve issues on her own is very important to her. While she doesn’t see asking for help as a weakness when other people do it, if she has to rely on someone else, she sees that as a personal failing.

All these feelings stems from childhood. Gwen mother passes either when she was a baby or when she was really young and her Dad was ill equipped to becoming a single parent. He tried is best, but he wasn’t around enough to give her the emotional and physical support she needed. Gwen and George both tend to throw themselves into their work when they can’t deal with their emotions. After Gwen’s mother passed, George started to subconsciously avoid Gwen with his job. Gwen looks just like her mom. And George doesn’t have to emotionally intelligence to handle that. It took either CPS or the Parker family to call him out for Gwen’s home life to get any better.

But at the end of the day, that whole experience left Gwen scarred. She doesn’t trust her father to always be there when she needs him.

Even with her childhood friends, Peter and Harry, Gwen took more of a protective, nurturing role. Peter was often bully and Harry ostracized because of his father. As much as she was there for them, I don’t think they were as there for her. Whether that’s because she couldn’t let them in or because they were too blind because of their own sorrows can be debated, but she was often put into a position she needed to be strong for someone else.

Being around people who aren’t emotionally available to her left her with the impression that her problems should be her own burdens. Her independence became a core component to how she sees herself. If she can’t manage by herself, then who is she.

Adult Gwen struggles to let people in at all. It takes a lot of time and consistent affirmation. Even those she has let in can easily get kick out. A life time of uncertainty has left her wanting security. In the role she’s taken up, no one can really offer that.

[rawrsatthetree]

Tired: Tav that’s good for Astarion cause they play therapist and give him support and space to heal

Wired: Tav that’s good for Astarion cause they’re such a disaster he has to get his shit together cause gods above one of them needs to be a functional adult

[dykedvonte]

Honestly I see Jimmy's refusal to put Curly out of his misery less about his weird feelings of envy or his delusions but the fact Curly is all but stated to be a shield to Jimmy from his actions and people seeing the worst in him.

The only characters that Jimmy really interacts with one on one before the crash are Curly and Anya, two individuals he has wildly different relationships with. It's likely that Curly really did most of the talking between them as the pilots and the rest of the crew as staff. They didn't know of Jimmy's more reprehensible behaviors cause they never really had the chance to and Jimmy is subconsciously aware. If they had disliked him more than Anya would have told Swansea earlier or even Daisuke when things got really bad.

It's why he takes the immediate opportunity to blame Curly; He's the shield. He's saved Jimmy's ass more times than he can count and more times than Jimmy would ever admit. Even when he can't really do it anymore, he mentally shields himself from his own faults by putting Curly between them. Letting Curly die puts too much on him because he doesn't know how to function without a safety net.

In the end Curly only lives because Jimmy needs the idea that Curly will inevitably make things better to stay alive, meaning Curly has to live, no matter how much it pains him to do so.

[art-from-the-juice-box]

gen loss dump part 2 :]

i have a gen loss playlist so the last two was me hitting randomize and drawing a pic based on the song before it finished. the second one technically isn’t that cause charlie’s inferno isn’t on apple music cause they hate me so it’s way more of the song out of spite because they wouldn’t give it to me.

[hmsmilkbone]

if Getou received the support he needed, I really do think he would have taught alongside Gojo and Utahime. he and Gojo would have been such a nuisance, and I firmly believe they would do couple costumes at least one Halloween. Ketchup and mustard type of duo. The front and back of a horse. Minion and Gru. you KNOW they would have been terrors, and they would have loved every second because it would make their students laugh, at the very least.

[yngai]

today's the anniversary of john's last letter to ada written knowing he is already infected & begging her to go public with everything they uncovered together at arklay, turn on the lab's self destruct & to put him down if she ever saw him turned. she never read his last words, they were many on a list of letters sent to her & burned after her transfer to NEST where she was light on her feet beginning to befriend annette birkin (a relationship that eventually led to an affair), she forgot about john as quickly as he fell in love with her, happy july 8th everyone

[skyteglad]

the latest aita is making me sad. the teeth one. because like... when i was a kid, i was told to have braces! and that i'd need an eventual surgery! and because i didn't want to, my parents didn't make me.

that surgery would've changed my life. i'm not fucking kidding. i'm pretty sure 75% of my physical disabilities stem from not getting that surgery. and by the time i was able to bring up trying to have corrective work again, i was two years from losing my insurance, and my parents procrastinated. now it seems like a pipe dream it'll ever happen.

i get being resentful of your parents forcing you to do things you don't want to do, but god damn, if mine had actually really pushed me into getting braces, my life would be so much different and so much better.

[qqueenofhades]

I feel like it's important to point out that in the last few days alone, in the middle of the ongoing flap about How Old He Is, Biden has announced two MAJOR pieces of progressive legislation/priorities for his second term: a) major SCOTUS reform, term limits for SCOTUS justices, a constitutional amendment nullifying the "president god-king" ruling, and b) legislation to cap/stabilize rent costs nationwide and financially punish landlords who raise their tenant's rent by more than a certain percentage (the news I saw had it as no more than 5%) in a year.

It is important to note that aside from these both being necessary and needed (the SCOTUS reform alone, holy shit) Biden's response to challenges to his candidacy is to go MORE left, not LESS. The conventional wisdom for 800 years has always been that Democrats Need To Go More Centrist, a mainstream and longterm Democrat like Biden has absolutely heard it over and over, and we have heard so much about how we need to court Republicans who are tired of Trump by being more conservative. Biden is not doing that. He is making the electoral gamble that the way to win is by going even more left, which would also have implications for his policy agenda in a second term, especially when he was freed of re-election concerns and could just go "fuck it."

Now we, and I cannot emphasize this enough, need to reward him for the move leftward and incentivize him to do it more. When you shout endlessly at politicians to be more left and then just bitch at them for not being even more left even when they move in that direction, you discourage them from doing so and make the hoary old Move To The Center narrative come back yet again. So: