#are a personal attack on YOU and YOUR life specifically
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As a recovering conservative, I might be able to shed some light on this most puzzling of questions, at least from a religious perspective. (And don't get me wrong, there are plenty of non-religious conservatives - the alt-right is liberally (haha) sprinkled with atheists and always has been. But I can't speak with any accuracy on that particular view, so I won't.)
From a Christian extremist point of view, the purpose of their existence is to spread "the Good News" and convert as many people as possible, because anyone they fail to convert will be tortured for eternity after they die and that's a personal failing they don't want to live with. This is born of several conflicting and not necessarily biblical beliefs:
That unbelievers are sent to hell
That hell is a place of eternal punishment
That there is no way to not go to hell unless you follow a specific set of steps or (in more extreme cases) a certain set of rules
That a failure to evangelize MIGHT be a Sin Against God and
That if conversion is not possible then making others Follow The Rules is at least a step in the right direction
With specific issues (i.e. abortion) they very sincerely believe that even a shitty or short life is better than no life at all. They believe that there is a moral difference between choosing to end a life and allowing a life to end (one is a sin while the other is more of a personal failing but not necessarily something that will "stain your soul") and curiously the negative aspects of allowing rather than choosing are glossed over when the person doing the allowing is nominally "protecting the unborn."
It's a complex web of beliefs that feeds into a particular understanding of the world. They see a world in which it is any Christian's moral duty to eradicate sin, not just from their own lives but from the lives of everyone around them. That's how you get mothers who insist they "did their best" while also blaming their own children for the manifestations of the trauma the mother herself inflicted on them.
(This is for the Americans in the audience.) Many of the everyday things in life that extremists consider "sin," like smoking weed, drinking hard liquor, getting a tattoo, etc. were branded as "bad" not by the Bible, but by social movements. In the '40s it was dancing and loud, unfamiliar music. In the '50s, it was laziness and cowardice (aka, being tired and scared). In the '60s it was drugs and promiscuity. A lot of what we're dealing with now is a direct outgrowth of the Reagan era, where the President declared in no uncertain terms that being addicted to very addictive substances was the fault of the lazy, unmotivated, free-loading poor folk who would rather spend their unemployment benefits on drugs and alcohol than on diapers and food. And to be extremely clear: this claim has No Basis in Fact. No reputable study at any point in any country has ever found that people who get benefits from the government are spending their cash on non-essential items in any meaningful quantities.
But it's those beliefs, pushed into the mainstream by religious fanatics and conservative extremists, that guided us to where we are today - a society in which an extremist religious faction are trying to impose their standards on everyone, regardless of faith or creed. They have been told for decades now that they are the victims, that they are under attack, that they have to "fight for their rights". So now they're defensive, combative, and absolutely convinced that they know the Truth.
I can't tell you how to get through to them. I can't tell you how to talk to them, even. I got out because I'd only ever been in due to ignorance. Once someone showed me the data and shared the logic that showed I was in the wrong, I changed my mind. Not everyone will - in fact, most people won't.
All I can say is... if you're talking to someone who believes they have the right to dictate what others can and can't do with their bodies, the most unsettling thing you can do is to point out to them what they're saying.
Because removing another person's bodily autonomy never sounds like a noble good deed.
Hereâs the thing I think conservatives donât understand: I donât care what someone else does with their own body.
You wanna get surgery or take medication to make you look a certain way? Okay. I donât care
You wanna ctrl+alt+delete that clump of cells in your uterus. Sure. I donât care.
You wanna use meds to block a natural aspect of your bodyâs system? Alright by me. I. Donât. Care.
I donât care because itâs not my body
âBut what if they regret it?â So? Let them regret it. Thatâs their choice to live with.
âBut what if that baby would have grown up to cure cancer?â Kinda short sighted on Godâs part to only put that potential in one baby, yeah? (Also ⌠you canât cure cancer, but thatâs a level of nuance for a different time)
âBut what if they want to use that function in the future?â Funny thing about meds: you can just stop fucking taking them and things usually go back to normal.
I DONâT CARE WHAT ANOTHER HUMAN BEING DOES WITH THEIR OWN BODY! I donât care đ¤ˇââď¸ itâs not my body so why should I have a say in it?
The choice is not âbeing left up to the states instead of the federal governmentâ, itâs that the choice is being taken away from individuals.
Why the fuck to they care so much what other people do with their own shit??
#ink speaks#autonomy#rights#human rights#women's rights#abortion#hot button topics#politics#US politics#sorry for the rant#I have some Very Big Opinions on this matter#good luck out there#stay safe#take care of yourself#you matter
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Hate to be that person crouding your asks but... you know the thing girls say to their boyfriends?
'would you still love me if i was a worm?' ...that but with Desmond actually turning in to one
As long as you donât mind how long it takes me to answer asks or reply to you guys, cloud away XD
We have a Worm!Desmond idea before but the caveat for that one is that Worm!Desmond has the ability to actually turn into a big worm.
In this one, Desmond has no special power.
Heâs absolutely just a normal worm.
But to give him a âhelping handâ, weâll make his life a bit easier by having a âfated meetingâ with his human âpartnerâ (there is no way in hell that Desmond would let anyone call them his master, even if he is, for all intent and purposes, absolutely the pet in this situation.
For AltaĂŻr, he actually meets worm!Desmond while he was hiding to stop other people from seeing him cry over the death of his father. He takes Desmond in and actually hides him in their room, slowly building a habitat for him while heâs training. By the time AltaĂŻr is an Assassin, Desmond already taken an entire wall for his âroomâ and is living the best worm life XD
For Ezio, weâre going for a more angst-y version. Heâs actually Petruccioâs pet that Petruccio was nurtured. When they were attacked, Desmondâs âhomeâ was destroyed and Ezio actually found him when he came back to get Giovanniâs robes. Desmond had been crawling towards him and Ezio almost stepped on him before taking him in.
For RatonhnhakĂŠ:ton, weâll spice things up and make him connected to Shay. Specifically, Shay and Liam are actually the ones taking care of him, giving him a home in the homestead. When Shay defected and killed Liam, Achilles didnât have the heart to kill the worm and just gave it food and left it alone in the office. RatonhnhakĂŠ:ton started taking care of him afterwards and would sometimes talk to him, mostly to complain about Achilles and to tell him what has happened in the homestead.
Edward, Arno and the Frye twins have similar setups.
For Edward, he already had a home in the captainâs quarters in the Jackdaw and Edward just continued to feed him. Desmond actually didnât know Edward was a Kenway until much later. He just thought Edward was some pirate dude that didnât mind feeding some random worm.
In Arnoâs case, Desmondâs home is right next to the chest that held the cafeâs profit and Arno learned the tradition of leaving Desmond food whenever anyone put or took money from the chest. He would learn later on that the one who started that tradition was Bellec who saved Desmond from being used as fish bait. (Bellec was absolutely plastered when he announced that he was keeping Desmond as a pet and is too proud to go against his drunk selfâs proclamation)
The Frye twins have no idea where Desmond came from. He was already in a very nice home (kinda like a repurposed aquarium) and no one felt the need to be a dick and kill him so he just eats and watches the drama unfolding between the Frye twins in the comforts of his home in the train the twins hijacked.
Kassandraâs of a similar âboatâ. Desmond was already part of the Adrestiaâs dĂŠcor and no one really bothered to tell her if Desmond was meant to be there or not. Everyone just feeds him and keeps him safe in a little home inside.
Bayek, on the other hand, travels with Desmond because⌠he really has no idea why. The worm had been Khemuâs and Desmond just tried to follow him even after Bayek tried to give him to a friend he knew would take care of him. No, Desmond will not become any kind of Hidden One symbol. Heâs so small, barely no one notices that Bayek carries him around XD
Okay, so Iâm fusing Eivorâs and Basimâs idea because theyâre connected. Basim actually keeps Desmond for one single purpose. After Enkidu refuses to come near him, Enkidu visited him once and left a worm by his feet before flying off. Desmond is actually the last âgiftâ Basim got and he named Desmond âGilgameshâ. Did his Loki senses ping anything about Desmond? Who knows XD What matters is, after Basim gets suckered into Yggdrasil, Eivor took Desmond off Basimâs clothes and gave him to Hytham. She knew that Basim cared for the worm (most of the time, talking to the worm as if the worm could understand him) and it felt right for the worm to be given to Hytham. ⌠Desmond is just reeling from the fact that he spent years accompanying some kind of human being possessed by an Isu or something (he doesnât know that was a thing XD)
#assassin's creed#teecup writes/has a plot#ask and answer#fic idea: assassin's creed#desmond is turned into an animal subgenre#desmond is turned into a creature subgenre#desmond miles#altaĂŻr ibn la'ahad#ezio auditore#ratonhnhakĂŠ:ton#connor kenway#edward kenway#shay cormac#arno dorian#jacob frye#evie frye#bayek of siwa#kassandra of sparta#basim ibn ishaq#eivor varinsdĂłttir
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Heard youâre taking requests and I really like your style! hereâs a bunch of ideas (Feel free to take or leave what you like):Â
any of the nicktoons for scale with Spongebob who is as smol as a dish sponge because thatâs semi-canonical to the show even if heâs more proportional to his friends in the games.Â
Jimmy x Timmy
Tootie and Vicky being actually sisterly. Maybe them playing DDR (Dance Dance Revolution) or arguing in a way that bother both of them equally or something else
AJ and Mr. Crocker (cus itâs interesting/weird that a teacher that loves to give out Fs still has a student that gets all As. I like to think that they might have a bit of a mentor/apprentice dynamic or at least they bonded over their shared interest in engineering)
Whin Harper (with any headcanons you have for them)
Hazel with a rock she modeled after Antony
Where you think Trixie is in ANW
Jas from ANW and Jazz from DP
Danny splayed against a wall hiding from a villain
Spongebob being a dad to the rest of Nicktoons team
Cookie and Blonda
Trixie in the boy disguise (perhaps with Timmy going to Comix as himself)
Timmy hugging his little brother(Peri)
Timmy looking at his children and resolving to protect them no matter what
Where you think Tootie was during A Wishful Life (she didnât show up to my knowledge)
sleepy Jimmy (optional to add/out swap for your fave Nicktoons)
Sheen and Libby and/or Cosmo and WandaÂ
The makeup meme but itâs AJ tricking out Chesterâs braces
Hazel having a panic attack
Let yourself be inspired by a poem or song
Trans Danny
Asexual Spongebob giving Timmy a thumbs up or pin for admitting heâs ace too (this is a personal headcanon, but itâd be nice to see)
Vicky (and your thoughts on what sheâd look like âredeemedâ and if thatâd interested you)
ok i did a few of these BUT i will be returning to them once i get the motivation to!! thank you so much for so many suggestions!
if youre interested in requesting me to draw something check out this post first!
sponge-sized spongebob
i feel like they probably had something go wrong with jimmys shrink ray, maybe timmy accidentally shrunk spongebob but didnt wanna get in trouble or something so he left him tiny LMAO
2. jimmy x timmy
couldnt think of anything for 3 and 4 right now so i skipped ahead to
5. winn harper
ok my headcanons for them... i think they would definitely love fnaf (based off of the patty possum episode) and probably roxy would be their favorite!! they probably think all the game theory fnaf videos are true and are the factual fnaf lore. probably also only watches markiplier's fnaf vids. besides that i think theyd love sour candy (specifically sour gummy worms)
thats all for now but i will come back to these i swear (unless i forget which is highly likely BUT--)
#nicktoons unite#nicktoonsunite#fairly oddparents#nicktoons#timmy turner#jimmy neutron#fop#spongebob#danny phantom#jimmy timmy#winn harper#fopanw fanart#fopanw#a new wish#fairly oddparents a new wish#jimmytimmy#jimmy timmy power hour#sbsp#spongebob fanart#spongebob squarepants#danny phantom fanart#nicktoons requests
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you have to go to work so you can pay for your doctor, who is not taking your insurance right now, and if you say i can't afford the doctor's you are told - get a better job. it is very sad that you are unwell, yes, but maybe you should have thought about that before not having a better job.
(where is the better job? who is giving out these better jobs? you are sick, you are hurting - how the hell are you supposed to be well enough for this better job?)
but you go to the doctor because you had the nerve to be hurt or sick or whatever else. and they tell you that it is because you have anxiety. you try your best. you are a self-advocate. you've done the reading (which sometimes pisses them off worse, honestly). you say it is actually adding to my anxiety, it is effecting my quality of life. so they say that you are fat. they say that all young people have this happen to them, isn't it a medical marvel! they say that you should eat more vegetables. they say that you probably just need to lose a little more weight, and that you are faking it for attention.
(what attention could this doctor possibly give? what validation? that's their fucking job, isn't it?)
there is always a hypochondriac, right. someone always tells you about a hypochondriac. or someone who is unnecessarily aggressive during the worst days of their life. or someone looking "for a quick fix". or some idiot who wasn't educated about how to properly care for themselves who just abandons their treatment. and again, the hypochondriac, the overly-cautious hysteric. these people don't deserve to be treated like humans (right), and since you might be one of these people, you also don't get treated like a human. because those people can really fuck with the system, you now have to pay for it. and besides. you're actually probably faking it.
(more often than not, you find a 2:1 ratio of these stories. for every "hypochondriac", there are 2 people who knew something was wrong, and yet nobody could fucking find it. the story often ends with pointless suffering. the story often ends with and now it's too late, and it's going to kill me.)
you are actually just making excuses. someone else got that procedure or that diagnosis and he's fine, you should be fine too. someone else said they watched a documentary about other inspirational people with your exact same condition, maybe you should be inspirational, too. you're just too morbid. your pain and your experience is probably just not statistically concerning. it is all self-reported anyway, and you're just being a baby.
(once, while sitting down in the middle of making coffee, you had the sudden, horrible thought - i could kill myself to make the pain stop. you had to call your best friend after that. had to pet your dog. had to cry about it in the shower. you won't, but that moment - god, fuck. the pain just goes on and on.)
you know someone who went in for routine surgery and said i still feel everything. they told her to just relax. it took her kicking and screaming before they figured out she wasn't lying - the anesthetic drip hadn't been working. you know someone who went in for severe migraines who was told drink water and lose weight. you know someone who was actively bleeding out and throwing up in the ER and was told you're just having a bad period.
in the ER there are always these little posters saying things like "don't wait! get checked today!" and you think about how often you do wait. how often the days spool out. you once waited a full week before seeing the doctor for what you thought was a sprained wrist. it had actually been broken - they had to rebreak it to set it.
but you go into the doctor. the problem you're having is immediate. the person behind the counter frowns and says we're not taking your insurance. you will be paying for this out-of-pocket.
they send you home with tylenol and a little health packet about weight loss or anxiety or attention deficit. on the front it has your birthday and diagnosis. you think about crying, and the words swim. it might as well say go fuck yourself. it might as well say you're a fucking idiot. it might as well say light your money on fire and lie down in it. and the entire fucking time - the problem persists.
it's okay. it's okay, it's just another thing, you think. it's just another thing i have to learn to live with.
#spilled ink#warm up#can you tell what i'm mad about today specifically#i will say that there are a LOT of things that go into this. like a lot. this is ungendered and unspecific for a reason#it isn't just sexism. it's also racism. and ableism. and honestly classism.#and before a healthcare professional reads this as a personal attack: i understand ur burnt out#we are ALSO burnt out. your situation is also dire. this is not an attack on you.#this is a commentary on the incredible amounts of bigotry that lie at the heart of capitalism#where people have to pay money out of pocket to be told to fuck off.#your job is important. so is our humanity. and if you cannot accept that people are fucking mad as hell#at the industry - you are probably not listening .#anyway at some point im gonna write a piece about sexism specifically in medical shit#but i don't want terfs clowning in it bc they can't understand nuance#> it is true that ppl w/a uterus are more likely to experience medical malpractice & dismissal globally#> it is also true that trans people experience an equally fucked up and bad time in the medical field#> great news! the medical industrial complex is an equal opportunity life ruiner :)#(if you find it necessary to go into a debate about biology while discussing medical malpractice#i want to warn you that you're misunderstanding the issue. because guess what.#cis MEN might experience this. particularly black men. particularly disabled men.#so YES having a uterus can lead to more trouble for you. but this happens a LOT.#instead of fighting those ALSO experiencing your pain.... try working WITH them.#which btw. is like. actual feminism.)
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The comments and replies on this are astounding like why in the actual fuck are you all fighting like children on a topic this complex.
Like please for the love of god stop fuckin fighting over this girl math shit. Do you all realize that the point of cultural analysis and critique is to point out patterns in culture and why they exist and not use them to attack others and that the reason it will not convince anyone is bc they can use the same shit or make their own critiques back? Like we live in a culture obsessed with this notion that there is a Science to Existence when culture very clearly can never be boiled down to something that concrete.
Your views on this trend if "girlification" hold meaning and are important but they dont make you more correct or morally superior. You are not a better person for hating these trends but also if you are taking these critiques personally maybe you need to uhhh....get a fucking grip? And maybe look inward and understand why you are so attached to these ideas of femininity and, if you really see it as survival or reclaimation, why do you feel the need to scream and cry and act fucking insane online about it?????
Its even fuckin weirder that any of yall arguing about it are doing it through this lense that you are more Right for it. It's like you have genuinely zero understanding of experiences outside your own but instead of trying to use that to grow, you're getting into screaming matches on tumblr and twitter about it like a bunch of babies.
"girl dinner is when you don't eat teehee" "men think about the roman empire women think about their ex best friends and poetry" "â¨sapphic love⨠is so pure and innocent and sweet unlike nasty gross Man Lust" "girl math is when you can buy starbucks and makeup because you didn't buy it yesterday so it's free" "I'm going to explain (complex topic) for the girlies! so basically it's like when you go shopping-" "I love women because they're so soft and smooth and feminine and we can talk about girly things and they're not sweaty or hairy or horny like gross men" "women should be unemployed girls don't need jobs men should do all that for us" "ugh girls that don't like pink or being feminine just need to stop being such pick mes and get over their internalized misogyny it's gross"
god save my hairy dyke ass from this hell before I start whacking people's shins with my Girl Baseball Bat. teehee!
#nothing OP said warrented the fuckin war in the comments#op can feel what they want without it being moralized by yall even if u support the same viewpoint!!#like all of u sound fuckin insane#and the amount of ppl literally being so rude over this#like ur being so emotional yet acting like u have this sane logical prespective#its just so funny to me like none of u understand how culture functions#and are so up ur own asses bc of american individualism#yall think someone making a statement about their experiences and feelings on a topic#are a personal attack on YOU and YOUR life specifically#like get a fuckin gripppppp#but also i understand this is the entire issue with the internet lol#like this is why all internet fights occur#is bc of this type of brainwashing#and its not even fully ppls faults#but theres something so aggravating about yall being critical and analytical#but not going far enough to understand you cannot apply moral value to ur personal feelings#u can take moral stances!!!#lime u can choose to partake or not partake for ur own personal reasons#but that doesnt mean u punish others for not having done the same analytical work#bc like what does that fuckin accomplish for yalls goals#but thats the nature of cultural analysis like even scholars end up getting into petty arguments over this shit#so i cant say theres a real solution#other than just learning to decenter yourself and gaining uhhh some fuckin empathy!!! u dumb brats đ
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i think chappell roan enforcing her boundaries to creepo parasocial fans is so fucking awesome and based and she should be allowed to do whatever she wants forever
#seriously i never see artists (regardless of what type of art) enforcing these boundaries and making people listen#also ive just become aware people are mad at her for not getting involved in political stuff???#hey i think perhaps people should form their own opinions and not base their life choices on what a celebrity they dont even know says?#its not like celebrities are your trusted royal advisors man go think about it yourself.#i was going to say âif taylor swift told you to vote for a specific person would you listenâ but thats a bad example isnt it#i think swifties just do whatever she says man#i think a lot of people really need to perhaps consider looking into what THEY THEMSELVES think of political candidates#and form their OWN opinions through research if theyre not sure on who to vote for#and not just immediately look to a random celebrity or public figure for what to do#has anybody considered like this isnt celebrities' business????#youre not at fucking daycare or highschool its not their responsibility to show you how to use critical thinking or form opinions#these arent your family members. these arent your friends. theyre just people a lot of people know about.#seriously man...i plan on attaining some fame from my projects eventually. its not gonna be my job to do that anymore than any other artist#my job is to draw furries not kiss the fans and tell them what to think. thats not my business.#even if i disagree with someone's views its still not my business my business is drawing furries.#theres a difference between using your platform to talk about issues and literally fucking telling people how to vote.#basing all your life choices on what celebrities think is gonna get you in a deep fuckin hole and do you no good. look at things 4 yourself#Sorry im kind of ranting here. am i sorry actually? no i think this needs to be said and im sayign it#and im not basing that on what popular figures think either! im basing that on what i think! which is what more people should do!#why dont we look at this from the perspective of like...streamers instead. cause people are weird towards streamers too#if i were to go up to a streamer or youtuber and ask them who to vote for#if i went up to fucking markiplier or vinny vinesauce and asked one of them who to vote for you'd all think i was deranged.#celebrities can also be wrong about shit!!! or be shit people!!! this is not me attacking anyone here!!#please consider the fact they are literally just people and theyre not some all seeing omnipotent god figures#you could go and ask nicki minaj who to vote for. or doja cat. you could just as well go and ask your boss who to vote for. or a neighbor!#and either way you dont need to base your life choices based on what that person says!#you still need to think for yourself!#but i think if youre gonna ask someone who to vote for it should be someone you know personally. not a pop star. not a gamer. not an artist#if youre gonna base your opinions on that of other people base it on the opinions of people you trust. people who know you.#people who are really there for you.
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But would you tho (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#Schuldig#ZEX#And again the Captain implied from offscreen lol#Two little things ⪠One that Actually happened and one speculation lol#I really like Schuldig :D He's the likeable asshole type and his quirk is very well written :)#I love how he gets on Zelnick's case about his wishy-washy-ness in regards to xenophilia generally and ZEX specifically hehe#Zelnick has no good answer for him! It's so cute hehe <3#But then he turns right around and is wishy-washy himself!! I get the feeling his frustration stems a bit from relating hahaha#Or maybe Zelnick's uncertainty influenced him! It's not such an easy decision to make when you're staring down the barrel is it now :)#Openly attracted to Max's body and flattered by ZEX's personality and outright attraction to him in turn but the alien aspect is too much pf#Sure right okay lol - I have no skin in this game so I'll have to take his word for it haha#Secondarily speculating around ZEX's attraction and standards lol it sounds like an oxymoron but no he is actually a bit picky!#Yes he loves humans generally but he is actually tempered by what mind inhabits what body! It's so interesting to me!#I think it's especially funny how his various desires are in conflict with each other haha#Like it makes sense that he controls himself around Fwiffo - poor thing would have a heart attack - but he genuinely seems less attracted!#Which makes sense to me as well ⪠Spathi and VUX share several traits and were on the same side during the War so he's familiar with them#And he's specifically attracted to differences and novelty - it all lines up!#And then there's also his pride lol he tries to make more friends than enemies of course but he still gets petty and patronizing <3#If he's actually upset with someone /he's/ the one who would need convincing! It's all very interesting :3c#And then there's the matter of his own body vs. Max's body - he's so upset at the metaphysical implications of cloning his consciousness#I've never thought of ZEX in the context of the ''Would you fuck your clone'' questionnaire but I guess I know his answer now haha#Though I still wonder what his reaction would be to Max :0 He's probably not close enough to be ZEX but he is /a/ ZEX - of a sort#All his introspection about the body he's in has my mental ears perked haha - pity and worry for the potential life he's replacing#Discomfort at possibly being Max in some capacity including continuing to be in his body but also of overtaking his life entirely#And of being backed into a corner - Max is pitiful as well as pitiable! Neither of them want to be Max Vyer really#He loves humans but how far does that extend when push comes to shove ⪠It's been interesting watching him fumble through it :)
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tw: discussions of abuse and csa
i've been thinking for the past few days of that last post i reblogged, saying that fantasizing about having been abused (or your abuse having been "worse", or taking specific forms) is a clear and normal consequence of having been abused. this is a very, very common mentality. I remember a part in CMM's in the dream house where she said that in the last months of her (very emotionally abusive) relationship, she sometimes wished her girlfriend would hit her, so she would have proof to show people who did not believe her.
and i understand this impulse. i really do. discussions of abuse (and here I mostly refer to CSA) usually include, at some point, several people saying that they feel like their trauma is "not bad enough", that they feel like bad people for wishing it had been worse, etc., and who are then reassured by people in the group this is not the case.
i also know in my life several people who have gone through truly horrific amounts of life-threatening abuse, from many people, sometimes from birth, on levels that are rarely addressed in usamerican society or fiction except on tabloid headlines or during SVU episodes, because, well, it makes everyone cry and scream. none of these people - not one of them - was believed by their family (or at least the members that were not directly involved) when they revealed it. they were accused of lying, making up stories, they were told what happened wasn't "that bad", etc. a friend once told me that even in spaces for survivors, even when everyone in the group was sharing experiences, they were reluctant to reveal the extent of their abuse, because they knew that it would change completely the tone of the room, "depress everyone", and, in some cases, have them be accused of "invalidating others' trauma" by people whose trauma had, shortly put, not been as bad!
#csa tw#abuse tw#rape tw#this was getting really long so I couldn't put more disclaimers but this is not a personal attack against anyone#who has ever had this line of thought. just a different perspective#and just to be clear I'm not talking or saying anything about kink any which way. I'm talking about fantasizing your#real life abuse had been more violent#specifically cause it would make you feel better or make people believe you more. supposedly
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without naming names to avoid procuring the wrath of dweebs who worship A Guyâ˘, I've noticed celebrity stans tend to struggle with understanding hyperbole :/
#when someone is complaining that your fave is ''in everything lately''#I can almost 100% guarantee they don't mean *literally* in *everything*#they're using hyperbole to complain about having to see A Guy⢠more often than usual that they'd rather not#and look I'm Autistic#I understand struggling to gauge tone even in real life let alone online#but I've noticed this specifically with celebrity stans#I don't know if they're genuinely struggling with hyperbole#or if the celebrity brain rot is just so bad that anything even remotely negative said about their Human God⢠is taken as a personal attack#but it's definitely something I've noticed#look I'm just saying if you're willing to call someone slurs#or accuse them of truly heinous things#to defend the ''honour'' of Some Random Guy⢠that you've probably never even met#then you might wanna take a step back and rethink your life choices
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A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3 writer#ao3 fanfic#writing is hard#fanfic writing#writer stuff#archive of our own#ao3#this isnât about me#my stuff still has great interaction from readers#although I would never say no to more#but please please please don't hide your enjoyment from us#they feed the gremlins in our heads which give us the stories
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So a few months ago there was the discourse about would you rather meet a man or a bear in the woods. I didn't want to touch it while the discourse was hot and everyone dug in hard because those are not good conditions for nuance, but I waited until today, June 1st, for a specific reason.
I'm not going to take a position in the bear vs man debate because I don't think it matters. What is really being asked here is how afraid are you of men? Specifically, unexpected men who are, perhaps, strange.
People have a lot of very real fear of men that comes from a lot of very real places. Back when I was first transitioning in 2015 and 2016, I decided to start presenting as a woman in public even though I did not pass in the slightest.
I live in a red state. I knew other trans women who had been attacked by men, raped by men. I knew I was taking a risk by putting myself out there. I was the only visibly trans person in the area of campus I frequented, and people made sure I never forgot that. Most were harmless enough and the worst I got from them was curious stares. Others were more aggressive, even the occasional threat. I had to avoid public bathrooms, of course, and always be aware of my surroundings.
I know how frightening it is to be alone at night while a pair of men are following behind you and not knowing if they are just going in the same direction or if they want to start something - made all the worse for the constant low level threat I had been living under for over a year by just being visibly trans in a place where many are openly hostile to queer people. You have to remember, this was at the height of the first wave of bathroom law discussions, a lot of people were very angry about trans women in particular. My daily life was terrifying at times. I was never the subject of direct violence, but I knew trans women who had been.
I want you to keep all that in mind.
So man or bear is really the question "how afraid of men are you?", and the question that logically follows is "What if there was a strange man at night in a deserted parking lot?" or "What if you were alone in an elevator with a man?" or "What if you met a strange man in the woman's bathroom?"
My state recently passed an anti trans bathroom bill. The rhetoric they used was about protecting women and children from "strange men", aka trans women.
Conservatives hijack fear for their bigoted agenda.
When I first started presenting as a woman the campus apartment complex was designed for young families. The buildings were in a large square with playgrounds in the center, and there were often children playing. I quickly noticed that when I took my daughter out to play, often several children would immediately stop what they were doing and run back inside. It didn't take me long to confirm that the parents were so afraid of "the strange man who wears skirts" that their children were under strict instructions to literally run away as soon as they saw me.
"How afraid are you of a strange man being near your children?"
I mentioned above that I had to avoid public bathrooms. This was not because of men. It was because of women who were so afraid of random men that they might get violent or call someone like the police to be violent for them if I ever accidentally presented myself in a way that could be interpreted as threatening, when my mere presence could be seen as a threat. If I was in the library studying and I realized that it was just me and one other woman I would get up and leave because she might decide that stranger danger was happening.
Your fear is real. Your fear might even come from lived experiences. None of that prevents the fact that your fear can be violent. Women's fear of men is one of the driving forces of transmisogyny because it is so easy to hijack. And it isn't just trans women. Other trans people experience this, and other queer people too. Racial minorities, homeless people, neurodivergent people, disabled people.
When you uncritically engage with questions like man or bear, when you uncritically validate a culture of reactive fear, you are paving the way for conservatives and bigots to push their agenda. And that is why I waited until pride month. You cannot engage and contribute to the culture of reactive fear without contributing to queerphobia of all varieties. The sensationalist culture of reactive fear is a serious queer issue, and everyone just forgot that for a week as they argued over man or bear. I'm not saying that "man" is the right answer. I am saying that uncritically engaging with such obvious click bait trading on reactive fear is a problem. Everyone fucked up.
It is not a moral failing to experience fear, but it is a moral responsibility to keep a handle on that fear and know how it might harm others.
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The idea of dating apps and events and blind dates is actually alien to me because I genuinely do not understand why the hell you'd ever go on a date with someone you don't intimately know.
#like...you don't know them#personally my record is a year#as in a year of knowing someone before i could picture potentially going on a date or moving the relationship to the romantic territory#but that's like the record. all my other functional relationships happened after at least 3 years of knowing each other#because 3 years is usually the timeframe around which i become slightly less scared of being alone with the person#usually. not always.#a year tends to be the replying milestone tho. like. after a year i might stop taking 3 days to skillfully craft a manufactured#reply that is just right and uses the tone and vocabulary you specifically might like#like after a year i might get a little less worried about impressing with every message and might reply spontaneously#after 3 years i might stop getting horrible attacks of shame and guilt and fear after 1on1 hang outs#not always. i am good friends with people I've known for 10 years with whom i cannot be alone at all#so as you can imagine I genuinely don't get how the hell you could even begin to think that you want to be in a#relationship with someone you've seen like 3 times in your life
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Nanami wants you to ride his face...
It was no secret that Nanami read books. Any kind of book. But sometimes he would read something not so wholesome��
Laying on the futon of his home office, eyes half lidded, glasses sitting low on his nose. As he reads, his mind wanders to you. His cock growing tighter in his pants, thinking about what it would be like to reciprocate these acts in the bedroom with you. One specific part caught his attention though. His hand absentmindedly wanders down to his hard erection, his mind racing with the thought of you sitting on his face.
A soft knock on his door puts him out of his trance. âWhat would you like for dinner, Ken?â you ask softly from outside the door. Nanami froze. His face reddening as he shuts the book. Not sure if he should be more embarrassed about what he was reading or what he was imagining. He adjusted himself before walking up to the door himself and opening it. He appreciated how you were always respectful of his personal space and knocked.
âOh, hi honeyâŚâ your face brightens as he opens the door. The sight of your smile filled Nanami with love, but it wasnât helping his erection. He doesnât say anything besides wrapping his arms around, bringing you into a tight embrace. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you returned the hug. âSomeone feels a little clingy today?â you chuckle, running your hands over his back.
Nanami burrows his face into your hair. Inhaling your sweet scent he adored. His fingers run over the natural curves of your body, as he presses gentle kisses to your cheek. âI apologize, I feel⌠I need you right now.â Nanami murmurs into your ear, his declaration runs a shiver up your body. The way he was leaning onto you caused you to hold onto his shoulders, exposing your neck to him. He wastes no time in attacking it, placing his âneedyâ kisses on it.
Nanami had many ways he liked to kiss you. You have his sincere kisses when he wants you to know he's there for you and he loves you. Peck on the cheek and hand kisses in public. But your favorite kind he gives you are the ones that always lead to more. Where he becomes a little more flirty, nipping at your skin, digging his teeth in, hands roaming all over your body. Squishing anything he could get his hands on.
Itâs not long before you both stumble into the room, not being able to get your hands and mouths of each other, until Nanami breaks the kiss, his expression now restless, with desire behind those honey-brown eyes. âI have a requestâŚâ he clears his throat. You smile at the way he breaks eye contact with you because heâs nervous. âWhat kind of request?â you bat your eyelashes at him. Nanami swears he could die then and there if he wasnât already embarrassed enough. He walks over to the bed, awkwardly laying flat on it.
âYou want me to ride you?â you laugh at how he just lays down. Nanami shakes his head. âSit. On my face. Please.â he stutters out, giving you a quick glance before he breaks eye contact again, leaving you speechless, this wasnât something you had tried out before. The desire in his eyes told you he was desperate for this. He looked like he was on the verge of getting on his knees and begging you. âWe havenât tried that yetâŚâ you smirk at him, leaning closer to him. âIs that a no?â he looks at you again, eyes urging you to give in.
Nanami couldnât help himself once you were hovering over his face. He takes in your scent, closing his eyes, his nose tickling your entrance. Your breath hitching as you look for something to hold on too, eventually resting your hands on the headboard in front of you. Nanamiâs breath catches in his throat, he could not believe it was actually happening. His hands find purchase on your thighs, groping them like his life depended on it.
âKeep your eyes on me KentoâŚâ You coo as you look down at him. He could moan at just the sound of your voice, he couldnât take it anymore. His eyes lock onto yours, his gaze intense as he begins to worship you with his tongue. Savoring the taste of you, hands roaming all over your hips and ass, devouring your cunt desperately.
The moment you think he is finally satisfied, heâs not. Only pulling you down more on his face, sharp eyes still on you just like you told him. He didnât want to miss anything. Music to his ears the way you say his name like a spell, your victim being him and only him. The way you cried out when he would tease your clit just right. And the way you grind against his face was all he could ever ask for. He could die a happy man right then and there.
âFuckâŚâ you whine, your hand coming down to grip his hair, only driving him more insane. His grunts grow louder as the pleasure and pain mix together delectably. His tongue lapping you up with a new found energy, with confidence you didnât know he could possess. Eager to chase your orgasm so you cream all over his face. His own arousal building up every second you're on his face.
"Oh god Kento⌠i'm so close,â you continue your ministrations on his face. His fingers tightening around your ass. He gazes up at you with the most sexy bedroom eyes filled with adoration and desperation, his just pleading for one chance to watch you fall apart on and all over his face. To make a mess on him. âGo ahead, sweetheartâŚâ he mumbles against your sopping, sensitive cunt.
A cry of ecstasy echoes the room as your orgasm finally takes over your body, holding onto the headboard again to stabilize yourself. The man under you is still lapping up everything you are willing to give him. You continue to grind yourself on his face, riding out your orgasm. Nanamiâs eyes rolling back in complete and utter bliss, your slick coating his chin and cheeks. Waves of pleasure run through your body, your only thought being Nanami. The way he looked under you, making you hot all over again. Intimacy so intense you could burst.
Realization hits you after your orgasm, finally deciding to remove yourself from his face so he wouldnât suffocate. Nanami gasps for air as you lift off him, a small giggle escaping your lips. His chest heaving with the exertion that just happened. His eyes still glazed over with lust, taking in the sight of you.
âSo where did you get this idea from?â you tease him, poking his shoulder.
A dorky smile spreads across his perfect face as he climbs on top of you, meeting you face to face.
âI read about itâŚâ
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk smut#nanami smut#nanami kento#nanami x reader#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami x reader smut#nanami kento x reader smut#kento nanami#kento nanami smut
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you know the killer doesn't understand
in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.
angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3
Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching youâit makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that heâs constantly afraid heâs going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (heâll always hold out his arm for you, thoughâheâs not cruel.)
Youâre adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like itâs not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isnât at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly heâs thought about ending the relationship because he knows heâs being an absolutely awful partnerâbut he just canât bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and heâll play with your hair and read for a while because he canât sleep very well. Eventually heâll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesnât know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesnât understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. Heâs starting to think he doesnât understand you. And thatâs the worst thought of all.Â
So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but whatâs new. When he canât sleep, he turns his head to watch you breatheâsome beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuckâs sake. Youâre beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he canât touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSDâPTSS, thank you, Luke Alvezâinduced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? Itâs not like youâre tiny, but heâs stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him.Â
Theyâre just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesnât hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans areâitâs his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, heâs quite sure heâd drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesnât know if heâd ever deserve to come back.Â
Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now heâll watch you sleepâthe delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you canât curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when heâs around, which is pretty much always. At least he canât disappoint you while youâre asleep.Â
Or so heâd like to think.Â
Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. Itâs so quiet he couldâve missed it, but he doesnât, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows youâre having a nightmare immediately.Â
Spencer panicsâbefore, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now heâs frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it.Â
In the end, you choose for himâand it only takes a few moments. Youâre close enough to him that itâs easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe youâre slightly conscious but not enough to remember youâre not supposed to touch him.Â
He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsenseâhe catches his name, onceânestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughtsâhis mind goes⌠completely fucking blank.Â
Suddenly, all heâs known, all heâs ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and heâs just this, right now. The person youâd turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesnât feel dangerous. He doesnât feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while youâre awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where youâd been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattressâhaha, look who gets to hold her nowâbut instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut.Â
You donât make another sound for hours.Â
Heâs reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. Itâs the best three hours of sleep heâs had in a very long time.Â
Of course, you donât remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like youâre not sad, but youâre a very good sportâand it helps that heâs feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back.Â
âGood morning,â you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot.Â
Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand.Â
âGood morning. You sleep okay?â
Your brow flickers, and he realizes itâs not a question he asks every morning, and youâre probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway.Â
âI think so. I had weird dreams.â
He hums.Â
âAbout what?â
Itâs quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak.Â
âDo I have to tell you?â
That hurts.Â
âNo. But it might help.â
Coming from him? Ironic doesnât even begin to cover it.Â
You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes.Â
He canât help it anymoreâSpencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasnât kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. Itâs long overdue.Â
Which is why heâs not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression.Â
âWhatâs this? Whatâs wrong, angel?â He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest.Â
âThatâs not⌠youâreâŚâ
âWhat? What is it?â
A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way.Â
âYouâre not being fair.â
He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.
âIâm trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I donât know how they couldnât be. I feel like you donât even like me anymore. Iâm embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then youâand then you wake up one morning and you think itâs okay to act like you love me again but I canâtâI cââ you stop, obviously frustratedânow crying in earnest and lacking the words. âYou canât be mean to me. I know youâve been through a lot and Iâm sorry but you canât treat me like that. Iâm a person, too.â
His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.
âIâm not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than Iâve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. Thatâs not an act.â
Itâs not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he canât keep up with them. Heâs not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now.Â
Maybe he just doesnât know how to talk to you.Â
Resignation���a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as itâs gone, and youâre looking at him placidly, he realizes heâs afraid.Â
âWell, thatâs not enough,â you whisper.Â
Spencer feels like heâs been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like.Â
âWhere are you going?â And then louder, when you donât hear him because youâve already left the room, âWhere are you going?â
He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat.Â
You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake.Â
Spencer is too stunned to follow you.Â
Itâs not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. Thereâs no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in troubleâand he fears that youâll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous.Â
He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction.Â
Besides, heâs not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, heâd trust himself and his team over the cops any day.
The team. Theyâre always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesnât come home before dark, Iâll call all of her closest friends. If she doesnât come home before the morningâthe thought makes him feel sickâIâll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal.Â
Maybe thatâs an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. Itâs impossible, of courseâbut the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive.Â
Thankfully, it doesnât come to that.Â
At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief.Â
Penelope: Sheâs at my apartment
Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!
The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesnât even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, heâs had this sense that everything is fleetingâthat the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesnât take anyone with a degree to figure out why heâs been feeling that way, but itâs so all-consuming heâs not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, heâd been wondering how to break up with you. Now heâs asking himself how the fuck he thought heâd be able to do that when heâs barely functioning after a few hours without you.
Itâs a question he still hasnât answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. Itâs clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadnât been expecting him like thisâleaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morningânot that you couldâbut you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent.Â
For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching youâleaning against the door rigidly as if you canât get far enough away. But heâs too tired for this. Too worn out.Â
âHowâd you get home?â
You swallow.Â
âPenelope.â
Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away.Â
âYou really should have brought your phone.â
You scoff, peeling yourself from the door.Â
âOf course thatâs what youâre worried about.â
Itâs the same situation as this morning, but in reverseâhim following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom.Â
âWhâshould I not have been? You scared meââ he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. âI was worried about you.â
âWhy?â you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. âBecause you thought I would get raped and murdered and then youâd be sad?â
âYes!â Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. âThat is fucking exactly why I was scared!â
You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarilyâhe wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? Heâs seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins.Â
âOf course you didnât give one single fuck that I left you. You didnât think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasnât what you were scared of at all.â For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. âWhat is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.â
Youâre close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but heâd know they were there even if he couldnât observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he canât do anything about it. Right now, heâs paralyzed.Â
âIf the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isnât better. I donât give a fuck if itâs hard for you. Itâs hard for me, too, but Iâm not just going to ignore it anymore.â
Thereâs no more room. The wall is at is back.Â
âHoney, please back up,â Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, heâd been gagged and beaten. Donât lash out. She never hurt you. It wasnât her.Â
âDonât tell me what to do!â you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. âEither break up with me or stop telling me to go away!â
At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist.Â
Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion.Â
On instinct, he catches your wrist.
Thereâs a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrongâ
But it doesnât.Â
He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes youâd never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance heâd found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulderâa maneuver that wouldnât have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with.Â
In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, youâve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like heâd never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a secondâbefore youâre wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt.Â
âI donât want to break up,â he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. âIâm sorry. Please donât say that. I donât want that.â
âWhatâs wrong with you?â You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows itâs not an accusation. Itâs not an insult. Itâs a question borne of confusion and fear. Itâs what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And itâs completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and heâs only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide.Â
âI donât know,â he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. âI donât know. Iâm sorry.â
âI donât want youâto be sorry.â Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like youâre wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. âI just miss you so mâmuch. I want you toâto love me.â
âI do,â he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. âI do love you. So much. So much.â
When you donât respond, heâs not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you needâbut is quite sure thatâs not the right move. Instead he doesnât say a thing. Only holds you.
Later, youâll pull back and heâll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. Heâll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and heâll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, youâre holding each other, and thatâs all either of you need. Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic
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Revenge - Tommy Shelby
Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabiniâs attack on Tommy
Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any
Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestionsđ
MDNI, 18+ only
You werenât quite sure how it had happened.
Scratch that.
You knew exactly how it had happened.
Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. Youâd protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.
You had to admit, it wasnât the worst thing that couldâve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you couldâve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and⌠the sex was great.
Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didnât expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your fatherâs only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your fatherâs gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and werenât afraid to use it.
It wasnât until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.
Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didnât dare ask. He hadnât asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didnât ask about his scars.
It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.
âAlfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,â Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.
Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.
âSabiniâs a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?â You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.
Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how heâd ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.
The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.
You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,
âIâm not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, Iâm just going to head back home, okay?â You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldnât have a reason to not believe you.
Tommyâs eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.
âI wonât be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?â
You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,
âI will, promise,â you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.
Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.
The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew youâd have to earn Tommyâs trust back after this, but you didnât particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.
Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommyâs shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, âIâm called the devil, but that doesnât mean Iâm some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until youâre comfortable sharing a bed,â but it didnât take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.
Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.
You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommyâs office next.
Iâll be back soon. Iâm sorry for lying, but Iâll be back.
You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.
As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyoneâs territory.
The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.
âIf there is a God, please let me get through this. Iâll make it up to you⌠somehow,â you said quietly.
The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.
You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. Youâd worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.
You needed Sabini to notice you.
You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.
The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.
You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabiniâs club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her fatherâs territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.
It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadnât even been an hour.
âYou seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind werenât welcomed here,â Sabini said once he was in front of you.
A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,
âMy kind?â You questioned, playing innocent.
âYes. Your kind. Youâre the wife of Thomas Shelby and I donât appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-â
âI wasnât sent here,â you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadnât fallen back behind your ear, âand Iâm not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?â
His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.
âIs that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.â
You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.
âPerhaps we could talk about it somewhere else⌠somewhere private?â You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.
Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something youâd adopted a lot of.
âAllow me to show you to my office then,â he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.
He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.
Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.
âTrouble in paradise, I take it,â Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.
âIt was never paradise to begin with,â you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.
You had grown used to Tommyâs Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasnât nearly as smooth going down.
âWas it not? From what Iâve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leaderâs daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.â
âThatâs not the way I see it,â you lied.
âAnd how do you see it?â
âA desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the womanâs wishes,â you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.
âAnd so youâve come to London for what?â Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.
âBecause I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,â you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.
His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.
âAnd how do you think we could help each other?â He asked.
You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.
âThey trust me, Mr. Sabini. They donât suspect me of anything,â you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, âI can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once theyâre all gone.â
âThey donât even realize the ticking time bomb theyâve got in their fingertips, do they?â He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.
âThey donâtâŚâ you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, âand neither do you, apparently.â
His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.
âIâd say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, youâll regret it, but you wonât be,â you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, âNever fuck with a Shelby.â
In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.
You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldnât bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.
Revenge is a scorned Shelby
As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.
Sabini is dead.
That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasnât the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldnât be last.
But you hadnât told anyone about this time. You hadnât told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.
You werenât surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.
You hadnât risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.
When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another manâs coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.
You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.
He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.
Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.
âI need a fucking drink for this one,â Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. âWhat the fuck did you do?â
âDo you want the short version or the long version?â You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.
Despite himself, he couldnât help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,
âHumor me. Short version first,â he told you.
âAbout a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.â
Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, âLong version.â
âAbout a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,â you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, âthen today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.
âSo, I lied to my husband and said I didnât feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying Iâd be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didnât want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what heâd done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.â
Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.
âWhat did the message say?â He suddenly asked.
âRevenge is a scorned Shelby.â
âNothing about the Peaky Blinders?â He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.
âNo.â
âNo?â
âNo.â
âWhy not?â
âIt wasnât Peaky business,â you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.
âWas it not?â He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.
âNo. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.â
âExplain.â
âHe didnât just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.â Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.
âSo Iâm your Shelby?â He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.
âYes.â
âAnd that means youâre mine?â He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.
You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didnât have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.
âYes.â
âThen you should know something about what it means to be mine.â
âWhatâs that?â You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.
In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
âMy Shelby is to never come home wearing another manâs coat again,â he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.
You donât know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadnât been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.
âYouâre not mad?â You asked against his lips.
âAt you starting a war?â He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.
âYes,â you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.
âLivid,â he said with no hint of joking in his voice.
âThis is quite the punishment,â you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.
âOh, Iâm livid,â he said, looking up at you, âbut also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a manâs throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.â
You werenât given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.
He didnât bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.
âSomeoneâs impatient tonight,â he teased as nipped at your skin again.
âYouâre the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,â you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.
He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.
He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,
âUp,â he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.
You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,
âWas killing a man not enough work?â You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldnât be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.
âThatâs cute,â he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, âthatâs not where youâre sitting tonight.â
The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but youâd never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.
âSeriously?â You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.
âSeriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, youâre enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,â he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.
You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You werenât given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.
If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomasâ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.
His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.
It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when youâd decided you could trust him, and youâd been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. Heâd spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.
His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.
Tommyâs hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didnât hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadnât realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.
Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.
âPlease, fuck,â you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, âTommy, TommyâŚâ
Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommyâs movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.
You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.
Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didnât let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.
You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.
If it wasnât for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.
And then your third.
Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.
He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.
âNext time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,â he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, âand donât doubt my punishments.â
You couldâve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasnât for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.
âThink you can be a good girl and handle one more?â He asked.
Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.
Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.
The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didnât mean you didnât need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.
Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.
He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.
His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.
The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.
âWho do you belong to?â He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.
âY-you,â you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.
âSay my name. Who do you belong to?â He repeated.
âThomas Shelby,â you answered and dropped your head back.
âGood girl. Youâre my fucking wife,â he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, âall mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. Itâs my cock that youâre whimpering over right now, and itâs the only cock youâll ever be whimpering over again.â
âIâm yours, Tommy,â you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.
âThen cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,â he commanded.
You didnât need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.
His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.
âWant to feel you Tommy, please,â you moaned underneath him, âplease, cum inside me.â
âFuck,â he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.
His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.
Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.
âDonât. Not yet,â you said in a quiet voice.
âIâm going to crush you, love.â He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.
âIâm a grown woman. Iâll tell you if itâs too much,â you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.
âStubborn,â he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.
âLittle late to the party if youâve just worked that out.â Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. âRemind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.â
His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.
âStubborn and a brat,â he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.
âToo bad youâre stuck with me,â you responded with a smirk.
âI donât think of it that way,â he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.
âHow do you think of it?â You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.
âI think Iâm lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though weâd never even said that we loved each other.â He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.
A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didnât know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.
He didnât seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.
âI fell for you, too,â he finally admitted, âI donât know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another manâs jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and whyâŚâ He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, âYouâre mine.â
âIâm yours and youâre mine,â you replied, leaning up to kiss him.
âIâm yours and youâre mine.â
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Astrology Observations by harmoonix
𦢠- Mars in Leo/Cancer/Gemini/Virgo can easily feel under pressure when they're stressed, they can feel like the world is ending!!
𦢠- Mars in Libra/Mars in the 7H are so complicated. Finding the peace and the harmony within your romantic relationships can be stressful
𦢠- Gemini Saturn/Virgo Saturn/3H Saturn/6H Saturn are possible anxious places for Saturn! They're so heart-warming, though!! At some point every anxiety attack will end
𦢠- If you have malefics in your 11H like Saturn, Pluto, or Mars, if you have friends that talk bad/shit about their other friends, be sure they talk the same to them about you!! Is so predictable!
𦢠- Cher has a Gemini Venus that makes her look young even though she is 78. DO YOU BELIEVE IN LIFE AFTER LOVE ???
𦢠- Your 2H can talk about your metabolism!! Since it is heavily associated with food! For example, a fire sign in the 2H can talk about a fast metabolism
𦢠- Having Sagittarius in your 2H or 2H ruler in the 9H, it can make you proud of your traditional/cultural food!!
𦢠- Leo Placements have a dark side like all of the other zodiac signs, because they're always in the spotlight. It is quite hard to know how they feel or if they fake their feelings. Not everyone knows how they feel behind close doors
𦢠- Sagittarius/Scorpio and Aries Mars can have a bad temper at times, some even anger issues, and is because Mars gets crazy in those placements
𦢠- If you have your south node in the 9H/Sagittarius, the school or some educational institution can get stuck in your memories/past forerver
𦢠- Jupiter aspecting Moon makes someone to radiate kindness! That person you wanna protect from bad people
𦢠Pluto - Mercury aspects can make someone have a deep voice indeed, which is also that typo of person to their voice hoarse most times
𦢠- Venus in Cancer/4° 16° 28°/4H Venus will make someone love you so passionately! They will build a castle inside your heart
𦢠- I feel like Capricorn Placements are always the ones to stress/overthink about the future đ, there is always something 'What if that will happen'
𦢠- Venus/Moon in your 9H can make your relationships/marriages blessed! Is a very beneficial house for those planets
𦢠- Mercury in air signs have a specific way of communicating! It can be a fast reply to your messages, instant calling, using a lot of gestures while talking!
𦢠- If you have Sagittarius Mercury/Mercury in the 9H, you probably have a very good type of humor! Makes everyone to laugh
𦢠- Pisces Mercury and the 12H mercury are also people with good humor! I honestly appreciate their energy
𦢠- Can someone tell me why like Cancer and Capricorn Saturn BOTH give a very nurturing energy?? Is like I connect with mother nature
𦢠- Libra Placements are honestly precious! They appreciate the beauty of everything! They can find beauty even in bad things
𦢠- I have no major Saturn - Venus aspects, but I have quincunx instead, which can be manifested as such sad energy because you basically don't feel anything at times
𦢠- Lilith and Sun aspects are the symbol of a black diamond! Always shining after all they have been through
𦢠- If you have major 6H placements especially Pluto in the 6H, your health both mentally and physically is VITAL. Always prioritize that!!
Replying to your ex: No
Prioritizing your mental health: Yes
𦢠- If one of your parents have their sun in the same sign as your rising you can look a lot alike! Is honestly one one if the best combos to share with your parents
𦢠- Venus conjunct south node but also Libra south node gives me the vibe of a widow in a past life, someone who could've have suffered in love
𦢠- If your 3H is connected with the 11H you can be best friends with your siblings, if your 3H is connected with the 9H you tend to be best friends with your cousins
𦢠- Saturn/Neptune/Mars and Pluto in the 12H need proper sleeping if they're usually tired is a sign to just relax and take a nap
𦢠- Venus in the same house as your Mars can make you addicted to topics like art, music, sex, history, and even culture
𦢠- Mars in harsh aspects with Venus tend to flirt more than the good aspects, because Mars here is looking for competition
𦢠- Virgo Venus and Venus at 6° 18° can be picky with their partners, they can also have multiple types of people as their crush
𦢠- If you have got your 4H connected to the 7H your family can help you with getting into a relationship
𦢠- Jupiter in harsh aspects to Pluto tend to force their beliefs/religion/habits into others, something even without realizing
𦢠- Uranus in your 4H or Aquarius in the 4H can talk about your family can have quite unique habits, is like your family is different from the rest of the world because something makes them to just stand out
𦢠- People who have Sun in their 4H or IC at 5° 17° or 29° can really be known because of their family, is giving popular family
𦢠- Earth Signs over the 8H can be very private about their intimate lives and their sexual life
𦢠- Mercury aspecting Moon can make the native so empathic emotionally, you can understand everyone's feelings usually they're soft at heart
𦢠- Mercury in the 12H can be attracted into things that seem 'undiscovered, or unknown', they're always curious about things they dont have much info about
đ¤đ¤đ¤đ¤ harmoonix
#astroblog#astro community#astro blog#astrology#astro observations#birth chart#astro notes#astrology observations#placements#horoscope#ascendant#venus#peace#harmoonix#heaven#healing process#dove#aesthetic
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