#i have so many thoughts about the terrible way this has turned and how upsetting it is to see it

[septembersghost]

As a WOC I get some of the critiques for Taylor but based on the timing of all this, it does feel sometimes like I’m being used as an excuse to say every filthy thing possible about Taylor. It’s okay to give her a little grace. And the other thing I’ve noticed is even pre that guy people were already being terrible about Taylor the minute Joe was gone. So it kind of makes me feel terrible for her that she really needs a relationship for people to treat her a bit better.

i hear you, you do not deserve to be used as a shield or a prop for people whose central intent is to bash her just because they hate her in general. that's not uplifting or amplifying you, nor anyone.

it's related to why i've been so upset that people are calling m*tty a n*zi - criticize him, criticize his gross and bigoted actions, but the moment they start to misuse very heavy terms like that, terms that have significant meaning, then any rational argument and criticism loses all its weight, and they're making the situation worse. (i wrote a long post about this a couple of weeks ago and then made it private because i was afraid of being attacked on here, which in and of itself speaks to how toxic the conversation had gotten, where we couldn't even speak up and explain why certain parts of it had become harmful).

anyway, the people doing this, talking over woc or other marginalized fans, using inflammatory rhetoric, they don't actually care that any of us were hurt or concerned, they only want the excuse to hate her. it's not fair that anybody should be used to further that toxicity rather than being centered as a person, and it's wrong to see our identities fractured and wielded to tear her apart when that's so far away from what we were trying to talk about when this started. it's very clear to me now how much of this was driven by people who were anxiously awaiting the day they could attack again, to swarm at blood in the water. the vile things being brought back up and said with no hesitation about her, the people openly hoping for her to come to harm, i wouldn't trust a single one of them to truly care if we needed them, you know? because they have done nothing but exhibit a complete dearth of empathy, and vicious enjoyment at ripping a woman to shreds. the impact that all the old accusations have had, all the cruel and sexist press we thought we'd moved past, was just lingering beneath the surface waiting to be pulled up again. i find it very disturbing and unpleasant.

it also makes legitimate criticism difficult because everything always reaches this tipping point, where it goes from rational and thoughtful discussion to unfiltered vitriol. how do we find a balance where we can fairly say, this is why this is upsetting and needs to be taken into account, when everyone ends up turning it into hyperbolic rage like, this person is a disgusting evil narcissist untalented slut and i hope she dies. those are nowhere near the same universe of a conversation!

"it kind of makes me feel terrible for her that she really needs a relationship for people to treat her a bit better." and have you noticed how people define her completely by the man she's with? i said this to a friend, but anyone who believes that sleeping with a dirtbag has ruined her forever is outright perpetuating the most old-fashioned kind of puritanical shaming, where women are judged and seen as tainted because of men. it's awful, it's a really awful mentality to see still happening!

and yeah, it started brewing the moment she and joe broke up. that is not to say she has handled all of this well, there have been a lot of missteps, bad choices, and bad optics, and some of that is probably directly because of the fact that she's struggling with a destabilizing change in her life. we can understand that while not excusing all of it. people are rarely black and white, and this situation has been complicated. disappointment doesn't mean not showing someone any compassion at all. "It’s okay to give her a little grace." i completely agree, and thank you for saying that, you are obviously a kind and thoughtful person. <3 i hope you've been doing okay.

[hundredandsix]

loser!ellie headcanons

✩ I haven't been able to get loser!ellie out of my head so...here we go. I love that this is basically the same thing as canon!ellie. Slutty thoughts at the end so mdni (18+) ✩

✩ I don't think she would be the first to make a move. She would do little, very subtle things like hold the door open for you and then panic because oh no that was too much! You're going to know!

✩ She would think she's being obvious, and she is, but not for the reasons she believes. Let's just say her brushing her hand against yours is not nearly as obvious as the way she follows you around and the way your smile makes her face turn red all the way to her ears.

✩ Speaking of her following your around, she is so unintentionally clingy, even before you get together. You would get up to go to the bathroom and when she realizes where you're going, she tries to play it off like she wasn't about to trail after you. When you bring it up to her, she's genuinely confused because no, she is not following you around on purpose. She would never do that.

✩ It would take her forever to realize you're into her, but when she finally picks up on it, that confirmation gives her confidence. She wouldn't be as afraid to make her feelings more apparent.

✩ Has such terrible rizz that it somehow comes full circle and makes her even more charming.

✩ She LOVES bossy, confident women. Ellie is not afraid to ask for what she wants, and she is definitely not the type of girl that would have you ask the waitress questions for her. But there's something about a woman that could put her in her place that she loves.

✩ At first, Ellie is always rubbing the back of her neck or playing with her fingers when she talks to you. She doesn't want to look like a dork, but she can't help it because you make her so nervous.

✩ She's literally the definition of a golden retriever masc. She's got the beat-up truck (that's actually Joel’s, but you don't have to know that), an outrageous amount of flannels, and carabiners to provide it.

✩ When she gets really excited about something, her brain moves faster than her mouth. She'll fumble her words and stutter. She gets really annoyed when this happens and has to take a deep breath and start over.

✩ She loves to rant about her interests to you. Don't you dare seem like you're not listening because she'll get really quiet and upset.

✩ I could see her having issues with being treated like "the man" in past relationships. It confuses her at first because she wants to protect her partner and care for them, but she also wants to feel that same love and desire toward her. She would be so drawn to you if you don't treat her any differently because of the way she dresses or presents herself. Obviously, she presents as more masculine, but she still wants to be treated like a woman.

✩ She has sooo many playlists. There are some about you of course but she also has some that are so highly specific. When you go on your first date, she has a playlist for picking you up and two different ones for dropping your off, depending on how it went. She definitely has the classic "depressed gay longing" playlist.

✩ She has exactly two pictures on her Instagram. One is her and Joel on his birthday and the other is a selfie she uses as her profile pic for everything.

✩ When you follow her back on Instagram, she loses her shit and starts fantasizing about what it would be like to be with you. She's screenshotting every selfie you put on your story and thinking about them in ways that are not very appropriate.

✩ She's the queen of "this reminded me of you" and will bring you literal rocks because "it looks like the whale from the aquarium we saw last week." Whether it's modern!ellie buying you little trinkets or jackson!ellie bringing you things from her patrols, she loves seeing you in all parts of her life. Even if you're not physically there with her.

✩ I love the pages of her journal we get to see in the game because they show us peeks at her internal monologue. They show us she is still very much the eccentric, starry-eyed girl we see in the first game. She's learned to hide it. Maybe to fit in or maybe because she's learned that wearing your heart on your sleeve can hurt. It's literally canon that she writes about her romantic feelings in her journal, so I think she would have little drawings and blurbs about you. She for sure has a stupid grin on her freckled face as she draws the highlights of your eyes and maybe even the dip of your hips. It's the only way she can think of to get you out of her head.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

✩ She's an ass girl. She loves every part of you and will literally kiss your eyelashes if you let her, but she has to physically hold herself back when you bend over.

✩ I can't think of who posted it, but I remember reading something about Ellie fake fucking you when you're bent over and she would totally do that at the absolute worst times. You'd swat her away and look at her with a raised eyebrow, but there's no stopping her because she thinks it's the funniest thing ever.

✩ The first time you kiss is an out-of-body experience for her. She's panicking because she didn't think she'd ever get this far. She wants to touch you but she doesn't know where or what you would like, so her arms are stuck at her sides. She's 🧍until you grab her hands and move them to your waist.

✩ Has a huge obsession with your neck. Loves to leave marks if you'll let her. Will come up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while leaving wet kisses all down your neck.

✩ I could see her wanting to be both the big and little spoon. It depends on the day and the context. When she's the big spoon she'll jokingly hug you so tight you can barely breathe and wrap all of her limbs around you like she's trying to suffocate you. When she's the little spoon, she likes it when you play with her hair.

✩ Is an absolute slut for you playing with her hair. She's an insomniac and it helps her fall asleep. When you're arm gets tired and you want to stop, she'll whine and pull your hands back to her head.

✩ She would be more comfortable topping and doesn't want to admit that she likes to bottom just as much. She's a service top that would do anything to make you feel good.

✩ Girly is so shy when she bottoms. She'll get all blushy and tries to cover her face with her hands/arms. She loves it, but it feels so foreign to her to have someone's sole focus be on her.

✩ Loves eye contact, especially when your mouth is on her. If you look up at her from between her legs while giving her head, she has trouble thinking straight.

✩ Likes it when you pull her hair during sex and will groan for you to pull harder. Just move her wherever you want her because she thinks it's the hottest thing ever.

✩ I think she'd use a strap if you wanted her to, but it's not her instinct to grab for that. She rather you come apart on her fingers or mouth.

✩ If you wanted to use a strap on her, I think she would let you, but again, it's not something she would ask for. To Ellie, It would be more about pleasing you than her.

✩ Absolutely passes tf out after sex. She always tries to stay awake, but as soon as both of you are cleaned up, she's dozing off and letting out cute little snores.

✩ In summary, Ellie is the switchiest switch to ever exist and I will be taking no criticism on this

[appleblueberry-pie]

Hello again, I hope you are doing well. I was wondering if you are still open for requests. If so, may I please request for Yandere Nanami wherein his precious captive darling is sick and refuses to be nursed by him

I am 4ever open for requests. I am grateful for the meal. It shall be digested properly.

Let Me Take Care of You.

note: You guys ever been so sick you started crying???

You both knew that this shouldn't go on for any longer. You knew you should've given in a long, long time ago. You've never felt so....terrible from a sickness before. You've never felt this helpless. Weak. But you showing weakness wasn't what destroyed you. You could care less if you looked helpless because the pain and struggle was just that great. You couldn't eat. You could only down liquids and, fuck, you really couldn't speak either. Your lower back hurt. Your arms hurt. Your sides hurt. Your neck hurt. You couldn't rest properly because of the pain. And on top of that, you were extremely fatigued, and dizzy.

During the daytime, you would overheat and even the thinnest shirts with wide-open windows could cool you. But at night, the slightest crack in the window with the millions of blankets you had on top of you couldn't warm you up. It was hell on Earth. And Kento couldn't bare to sit back and watch you struggle any longer. You were his sweetheart. His baby. His everything. And you wouldn't let him help you. It was driving him insane. In the morning, he would watch you move at a snails pace into the kitchen to refill your glass with water. You would avoid eye contact. If he told you good morning, you would reply. But your voice trembled when you spoke, as if it was a task to even make noise. It made him put his newspapers down in extreme concern. But still, you wouldn't let him help you. Take care of you.

It was when he came back for work that he decided he had enough. He thought about it the entire time he was on the clock. He took you in for a reason. He vowed to himself that he would never neglect you and would always take care of you. Yes, he wanted you to be comfortable around him, and yes, he allowed you to set some barriers between the two of you, but you were so sick.

When he walked in the door, all of the lights were off and it was slightly stuffy. The windows were all closed and you obviously didn't eat, seeing the empty kitchen sink with no dirty dishes. He sighs and makes his way to the bathroom. He goes to turn on the light when he hears the soft sound of sobbing from the bedroom. He freezes and turns towards the bedroom door, walking over to sneakily place his ear on it. You're crying. Kento knocks on the door. "Y/n?" Immediately, the sound stops. "Can I come in, please?" You sigh shakily underneath the covers. How the fuck did he hear you? You tell him no. The door creaks open and he softly closes the door behind him.

He walks around to your side of the bed and kneels down to see your puffy face, wet with tears. It breaks his heart knowing he was gone and couldn't comfort you when you were crying like this. "Hey, what's wrong?" He rubs your arm above the blankets and you sniffle. "It's nothing. Please leave me alone." God, you sounded like you were in pain. You could almost see a vein popping out of his neck. You were beginning to stress him out. "Y/n." You shook your head. "No."

His eye twitched and he got into a more comfortable sitting position on the floor. "Sweetie, you know I told you not to keep secrets. Can you please tell me what has you so upset?" It was so painfully obvious what was wrong. There were used tissues scattered on the ground, you had so many blankets, and he could see your sunken in face.

"You're sick."

You used the energy you didn't have to try and turn the other way. You only managed to get yourself onto your back. It was silent between the two of you. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on not crying again, but it was just too much. You didn't want his help. He ruined your life. Kidnapped you, erased your public image, got rid of your phone number. You had nothing but him. You didn't want him. You ignored him. You tried to ignore him. He's right here for you and you just can't help but realize he's quite literally all that you have. It's so humiliating how you have to depend on the only person who you hate that is willingly giving himself to you like this.

A terrible sob rips itself out of your chest and you cover your face with your hands, a migraine reappearing at the strain you place on yourself once more. "I know I'm sick. I fucking know!" You couldn't even properly yell at him, too tired to even try. He frowns, and kneels on the floor, closer to the edge of the bed. "Then why don't you let me take care of you?" He wants to wipe your face of the tears, wipe the sweat off of your forehead. Feel you again. But he's scared he'll stress you out even more.

His hand almost hovers over your face as you cry. Your sad sigh of pain gives him the courage he needs to gently bring the back of his index finger over your face. He wipes a tear that falls down your cheek before bringing his other hand to wipe the other side completely. You let him. His touch was so very gentle. As if he didn't want to scare you away. "I can take care of you...." I am capable, he wanted to add that on. He loved you so much. He would rather fight a thousand curses before seeing you in this state again. He will do almost anything for you. Anything to see you happy. See you smile. He wanted to be fully yours. And he will do anything to prove that to you. Your eyes flutter open when he's done and you look over at him sadly.

Your eyes, so beautiful and beguiling, give him the softest look he's ever gotten from you. It makes his heart skip a beat and he sits up straighter. He would smile at you, but now is obviously not the time for that. "How do you feel? Do you want me to bring you medicine? Are you still in pain?" You look away before making eye contact with him again and nodding. He nods back and responds, "Okay. I will bring you some medicine and more water to drink." He wipes stray hairs off of your face, realizing how much you had to neglect yourself to rest. "I will make you beef stew, as well. You might be hungry, and your body needs energy to survive. I won't let you drink just water. Hopefully you will finish it all, and by then, maybe I could get you cleaned up, if you allow me to." You stare at him silently. He was offering to help you get better. You honestly don't remember the last time anyone has done that for you. But even then, he was still your kidnapper. Still, though, what were you going to do, say no? You hesitate before nodding to him. His face finally softens and he caresses your cheek one more time before forcing himself to stop.

"I love you." A weight is lifted off of his chest when he says those words. He wanted to say it to you in a better moment, but any moment is a good moment rather than when it's too late. He doesn't let you respond and gets up to leave and make you stew, a new fervor in his stride.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days,Long Nights: 10

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: Mature (anxiety, pregnancy, grim mentions of childbirth)

Series Masterlist

A/N: thank you endlessly to @the-ginger-hedge-witch for reassuring me that this isn’t a terrible, no good, very bad piece of writing ❤️ and also, I wanna reassure you that despite the emotions in this chapter, my intention has always been a happy ending for these two. Don’t fret. ❤️

—

Something is off. 

He treads carefully down the path he’s followed for months, his boots leaving pressed imprints in the soft dirt and his eyes scan for signs of life. His mind is back in the cabin where he left you sleeping, your body curled into a tight ball along the edge of his form left on the sheets, and he tried hard not to wake you, though he didn’t have to be too careful given how tired you’ve been lately. 

Sleeping late, turning in early, naps in the middle of the day. You blame the heat, or the boredom, or the way reading makes you drowsy, but even he knows that’s not all it is. 

You’ve been distracted, quiet. Drawing into yourself more often these last couple weeks, he tries to recall if he’s said or done anything, to remember if he himself is the cause. It’s been a long time since he cared about what anyone else thought – definitely since he cared enough to want to atone for anything he’s done – but for you, he sifts through his words and actions.

He knows you so well by now. Knows every tell, every minute shift in your mood. More molecular than reading your body language, the air between you shifts and changes when you’re upset, your face betraying nothing to someone who doesn’t know you as well as he does. You’ve been hiding your face more from him lately, because he knows you must know it’s open for him like his is now open for you. 

The back of your head facing him in the garden, the peek of your forehead over the top of your book, the way you look at him like you’re about to say something, but when he gives you the space, you look away. 

Even at night, you hide your face into the soft crook of his neck to sleep.

He kneels to inspect deer tracks, his fingers brushing aside growth to follow their lead and heading deeper into the forest, the air around him cools under the canopy of trees. The woods are alive with sounds: bird calls, soft chittering, the rustle and slide of leaves, the crunch of his boots as they snap small twigs underfoot. 

Amidst it all, he tries to work out the puzzle of you; his bow held loose in his grip. 

–

Your hands shaking with nerves as you watch him disappear beyond the treeline, you pull your bottom lip into your mouth with a bite and scold yourself for not telling him about your suspicions this morning. 

Or yesterday.

Or the day before that.

You know you could probably keep your secret for at least a couple more months, but there was no point. Everything about surviving here depended on preparing; the sooner, the better, making all the difference between life and death. 

Your palms turn clammy, another rush of bile creeping up your sternum as you run out the cabin door before it comes pouring out into the grass and feeling shaky after, you walk over to the rocking chair on the porch and take a seat, letting your head fall forward into your hands. 

Being forced to confront the concept of your life ending more times than you would have ever imagined over the last ten years, you’d thought you’d be desensitized to it now… but this was a wholly different type of fear. Not so much the idea that you might actually die while going through with this, (which, over the course of the last few weeks has become a much more terrible, terrifying thought) but more the fear of doing it alone.  

Nothing to guide you, no one to help in case something went wrong. You knew that women had been birthing children in their homes for centuries now, many of them in the same exact position you were in – but they had midwives and neighbors who came from afar to help. Other women around them who had gone through it before, advice handed down from generation to generation. Reassurance in the form of knowledge. 

You would have someone, you reasoned with yourself, if you told him. Joel has always been there to take care of you, and you know this time wouldn’t be any different, but how much did he know about this? Even if he knew a little, that information was almost three decades old. 

Another small part of you felt, even though you know he would never mean to make you feel this way, that you let him down. As if you could stop the science of your body and it betrayed you, or that you compromised this entire setup by foolishly ignoring the consequences of your actions. The last couple weeks a brutal reminder that you have been somewhat romanticizing this possibility, that alone carried its own humiliation.

Now faced with the confirmation of it, you were ashamed. And scared. 

This odd mixture of feelings, just like the odd mix of sensations in your body, kept you from saying anything every time you had a chance. He wouldn’t be mad, you knew that, but your hormone addled brain kept conjuring images of his disappointed face and that was almost worse. 

You press your fingers into your eyes, liquid warmth seeping through the digits as you think and you let the tears fall, taking deep, shaky inhales. 

More than anything, you worried about fracturing the bridge that had been built between the two of you, especially given his past. He already lost one child, what if something happened to this one? His perceived failure almost ruined him the first time; a gaping, ten year wound that tore him apart and ravaged his mind and morals. Only now just beginning to heal, what will this do to him?

The thoughts are circular, never ending. 

Will he even want this? Are you unknowingly forcing him into something he’s dreaded? You know he knew the far away consequences of your shared actions, but will he hate you? Will he resent the burden you are? The one you’re carrying, for the rest of his life?

How will you care for it? How will you feed it? Is there enough food prepared for something like this? How will you do this alone? What if it gets sick?

The worries expand and grow, filling your head with a relentless noise that makes you queasy. You think about telling him as soon as he gets back, and a cold sweat breaks along your hairline, running over your limbs. 

Getting up, you lean over the railing and purge your nerves onto the ground below. 

–

Standing in the kitchen, his back is to you and you take a moment to study the broad width of his shoulders. The dark curls that edge around the nape of his neck, the strength held in his solid frame. Cleaning his gun, he’s recounting his day in the woods to you and you are trying so hard to focus on his words, but you can’t. Not while the worries from this afternoon run rampant in your head, clouding everything. 

Still, it’s the image of his back that convinces you to tell him: sturdy, solid, familiar. Those curls are the same you’ve felt in your hands for months: sliding between your fingers as you run through them at night, coiled tightly on the ground before they lifted into the air when you gave him a haircut last week, slicked smooth along his head after a swim. 

You hand wash the clothes on that back, massage the tired, thick muscles of it, stroke the tanned, freckled skin in the sunlight. Dig your fingers into the meat of those shoulders, curl your legs around that torso, feel its broadness underneath you when you straddle him. 

It’s guided you, carried you, the formidable strength in it has made this place a home, and the reassuring reminder of those things forces you to open your mouth. 

“Joel, I –” you start, and he stops talking, turning his ear in your direction. 

“Yea?” His attention is still on his task but he slows, and your gut churns with nerves and anxiety and new life. You take a deep breath and focus on his back; the one that you’ve been following for months, before you even knew who he was. 

“I’m pregnant.”

He immediately stills, his frame locking up as his hands stop what he’s doing. 

When he doesn’t move, you take a hesitant step closer, pushing through the urge to run into your bedroom and hide under the blankets. The air in the room is charged, your heart thundering in your chest and when you take another tiny step closer, he finally speaks. 

“You’re sure?” he asks, resting his hands carefully on the edge of the counter. 

“Yea,” you reply, letting out a breath and trying to ease the tension. “I mean, no test, obviously, but…”

He nods slowly, absorbing the information. 

You stare at the back of his neck, willing him to turn around, but when he doesn’t, shame and embarrassment begin to bloom. Starting in your chest, the emotions take root and your fingers find the bottom of your sleeves and twist into the fabric, the familiar tingle of heat growing behind your eyes. 

Even though you know that both of you had a hand in this, you find yourself apologizing.

“I’m sorry —“

As soon as the words leave your mouth, he turns quickly. 

“Hey — stop. No, don’t say that. Come ‘ere.”

Shortening the distance between your bodies, his face is a worried expression so thoroughly earnest that you step right into his arms, tucking your face into his chest. He gathers you into his hold, his familiar scent of sweat and cotton and woods soothing your nerves, and you lean into him, holding tight. 

“I told you, you don’t gotta say sorry. Not to me.” His arms squeeze tighter, his chin coming to rest on the top of your head. “I was just – I didn’t expect that. I was just thinkin’.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing these last couple weeks,” you admit. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. It’s just that I didn’t know for sure, and then I thought maybe I knew, and then I did know but I was so scared –”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “Hey, it’s okay. S’okay.”

Those words, said in his voice, bring fresh tears to your eyes, not realizing how much you needed to hear them until they were spoken out loud. Only by him, the only person you would accept them from because if he says it’s going to be okay, you know it to be true. He hasn’t failed you yet. 

As if it only just occurs to him to check, he suddenly cups your face tenderly in his hands and makes you look up at him.

“You okay? You sick? How do you feel?”

“I’m….okay. I can’t tell if I’m more sick from the –” you stop short, unable to say the word out loud. Saying it makes it real and you aren’t ready for that yet. “I was pretty nervous to tell you.”

He says nothing, frowning. Searching your face for a moment, he nods as if he understands and brings you back to your place in his arms. 

“I’m not mad at you, honey,” he murmurs. “If anything, you should be mad at me. I’m just as much at fault as you are. More, even.”

Your cheek staying pressed to the hollow of his shoulder, you frown. “How so?”

“I’m older than you are. I know better. I —“

“I know how sex works, Joel. I asked you for it, and I’m just as guilty —“

“I’m responsible for you.” His hand tilts your face up, so he can look you directly in the eyes and the statement is said with a finality that closes your mouth. “I gotta keep you safe — and there ain’t nothin’ safe about this.”

You feel your face start to crumple, your chest heavy with the shared knowledge. 

“No,” you swallow, the edges of your mouth turning into something solemn. “No, there isn’t.”

His expression softens, his thumb stroking the fine hair at your temple and his voice softens too. 

“It’ll be okay, honey. I’m right here.” His hold on your face firms, his eyes silently willing you to understand. “I would never, never let anything bad happen to you. Not ever.”

You both know that’s not a promise that he can make, but the words are like a raft in a storm; you cling to them, holding on with every fiber of your being. 

“You understand?” he asks and you nod, the constant weight on your chest these last few weeks temporarily dissolving. 

Your nod reassuring him, he guides your face back to his chest and with the weight of his broad hand sliding soothingly down your spine, you loosen under his touch. 

Each lost in your own thoughts, the two of you stand there, wound tightly together. 

–

It’s been hours, and he still can’t sleep.

A light breeze catches the curtain and the fabric waves lazily, your body still beside him in the dark room. You took some soothing to come down from the confession earlier, and he stayed by you until you went to sleep: tucked you into his side on the couch, wound himself around you in bed, took you apart only after he got your okay. 

He lays naked, nothing but a thin sheet covering his form but it might as well be a weighted blanket with how his chest feels. It tightens and burns, a crushing pressure settling on top of it. Every breath becomes a pained struggle for air as he tries to stay still so you don’t wake up. 

He doesn’t know anything about this. 

Hazy memories: partial pieces of advice, parenting books and pediatrician visits and the day Sarah was born. Everything blends together in rapid succession: her sharp, bright wail, the team of doctors, her impossibly tiny body, featherlight in his hold. 

He pictures the same thing in this room, but instead of bright lights and beeping machines, all he can picture is blood. So much blood. 

Your face, twisted in pain. 

Your face, crying. 

Your pretty face, pleading for him to help you. 

He tries to pull in air, his hand coming to push against the plane of his chest as the anxiety floods and gathers under his sternum, catching on and coating the muscles there until he’s locked in place. A cold sweat breaks out over his skin and he can barely hear the rapid, shallow pants of his own breathing under the rush of blood through his ears. 

His vision tunnels, the walls of the room disappearing and self loathing creeps into his mind, as dark as the night outside. 

He did this to you. You wanted it, but he knew better. He was supposed to protect you. 

He closes his eyes tight and swallows hard, willing the panic away. 

If something happens to you, it’s going to be his fault. He’s going to fail you, like he failed her. Fail the both of you. 

Reaching out to grasp the sheet at his side as a means to anchor himself, he brushes the back of his hand against your hip and he opens his eyes, turning to face your back. Faced away from him, the soothingly slow rise and fall of your breathing catches his gaze and focusing on the pattern of it, he forces himself to match it. 

In and out. In and out. 

His hand splays over the slope of your waist, curving around your side and the warm give of your flesh reassures him. His vision clears, the softened edges of your shadowed form bringing him back to the room and the white noise filling his head fades, the tension in his chest slowly easing. He flexes his hold on you, his thumb sliding across your bare skin. 

You turn in your sleep, rolling over to face him and lifting his hand just enough to let you move, he rests it back on your side. His thumb drags across your petal soft skin, his eyes dropping down to watch and before he can stop himself, the back of his knuckles brush delicately against the natural swell of your stomach. 

He remembers the fear, but looking down at his hand, something blooms deep within that pit beneath his sternum. Something else, something that’s been lying dormant for years, but when he sees his hand against your bare stomach, it takes root and pierces through the surface of the panic.

Hesitantly, he lets himself feel those things, in the safety of the dark room. 

Anticipation. Joy. Happiness, contentment. Love, that he’d never imagined he’d feel again. 

He feels a version of it when he looks at you right now — a deeper version of it, a calmer one. A steady, anchoring emotion, one that he fought in the beginning but now has given in and gotten used to it. 

The love that he has for you planted within your body, taking root. 

His thumb drags over your belly button, and you shift in your sleep. 

“There’s nothing there yet,” you mumble, the words a soft slur in the darkness. “Go to sleep, baby.”

He hums lowly, his hand splaying to cover your stomach. Fingertip to thumb, it spans from hip to hip, but when you shift again next to him, he reluctantly pulls it away. 

Gathering you as gently as he can in his arms, he tilts his chin down to catch your mouth with his. Sleep warm and soft, you kiss him back and his arm winds around your waist, tugging you close. 

With your belly cradled between the two of you, he falls asleep. 

[slutforsnow]

Skin Don't Matter To Me

Quick a/n before the fic gets started; I am SO SO SORRY to those who were upset/uncomfortable/angry that I made the original billy x black!reader a former slave!reader. I didn't think. I shouldn't have been up at 1am writing. It was horrid and a terrible decision on my end. Forgive me or not, is entirely up to you. Ty to the anons who called me out for it and made me realize it was wrong to do that, biracial or not. I hope you can forgive me 🫂

Tw/CW: insecurities, anxiety, racism is brought up (not comments, just behavior).

Summary: Reader gets insecure about her relationship with Billy after seeing some girls flirt with him.

It was a chill Saturday evening in the saloon as patrons drank, played poker, and chatted absent-mindly. It was an easy night, for sure, aside from a few drunken snide comments made towards reader, but she shrugged them off. After all, she wasn't getting paid to fight the customers.

As she hummed and wiped down the bar, which was currently empty, she stopped midway to wipe some sweat off her face—reader loves her afro, and has no problems pulling it back so she didn't sweat to death while she worked, but some nights it was just too hot and having so many people out and about the saloon was making it harder to deal with.

Her dark skin shone in sweat as she worked but didn't complain. She had to make a livin' somehow, and she wasn't gonna do that by moanin' and groanin'.

As she resumed her work, she flashed a smile towards her boyfriend as he played poker. He was in his favorite seat, watching her work as he placed his bets and ignored the other girls hitting on him and trying to get his attention. He was technically working as well—he and his boys were security for the saloon because some of the customers were still quite horrid to the folks of color who worked, especially the women. They'd try to threaten y/n but were often silenced or kicked out by Billy and his men.

Y/n and Billy had been dating for 2 years, despite the ups and downs of him being a cowboy and the racism she'd face for being a black woman.

As she worked, still humming, she caught sight of some white girls being all touchy and whispering things in his ear. She bit her tongue as to not cause a scene and focused on continuing to grab glasses and wipe down tables.

'He'd never leave me. He's said that,' She thought to herself as a reminder that Billy would never leave her for some white girl. She was his, and he was hers. Yet, despite the constant love and affection he would give her, she still got that nagging fear that he would leave her.

A few hours later, Y/n's shift had ended and the couple were headed back home to the ranch that they bought with their savings over the course of their relationship. Y/n was silent the whole way home, which made Billy worry that he did something wrong.

"Darlin' did I do somethin' wrong?" He asked, setting his hat on a hook by the door as he shut the door behind him.

A lump formed in her throat and she sighed, knowing he'd keep asking if she said nothing.

"It wasn't you, Billy it... it's just my fears," She answered, trying to dismiss her fears.

"Well, what's wrong? It won't go away unless you talk to me."

Damn his smooth and relaxing tone- she didn't want to talk about it, afraid it would turn into an argument about his loyalties but he was so understanding that she knew she she couldn't hide it from him.

"Those... those damn whores that keep touchin' on you like you're not taken," She told him, sighing. "I know it's probably stupid or somethin-"

"Oh thank the Lord, I was hoping you'd bring this up," He breathed out, letting out a relaxed laugh and earning a perplexed look from y/n.

"...What?"

"I've been wanting to tell you about that. I never wanted to stress you out, but I hate, and I mean absolutely fuckin' hate when they do that. It gets so annoyin', I tell them I'm taken and to back off, but do they listen? No." As Billy continued to ramble about how he hated the other women touching and talking to him like he wasn't a taken man, she smiled.

He was so vocal about how much he hated it when they touched and flirted with him that it eased her worried soul and she hugged him tightly.

Fucking hell, she loves this man so much.

[mostmouse]

Professor Min

You bring dinner to your husband, knowing he hasn’t eaten all day, buried in his class’s midterm papers. What you thought would’ve been a cute little makeshift office date turns into something a bit more intense.

The only question on Yoongi’s mind… what are you willing to do to pass his class?

Yoongi x f!Reader (8,000 words, explicit, professor AU, student-teacher role play)

Parking in the lot next to the administration building, you hopped out of the car, hearing it beep as it locked. Cupping the insulated bag that held tupperware full of dinner, you walked up to the door, swiping the spare key card Yoongi kept at home. Hitting the automatic button, you slipped in as the doors opened.

Making your way down the hallway, you hummed a small tune, looking at all the closed doors and huffing. Of course your husband was the only soul in the building. Rolling your eyes, you smiled slightly as you made your way to the corner office, tapping your shoe against it and knocking.

You could hear vague complaining, Yoongi grunting as he no doubt stood up for the first time in hours. With a huff, you could hear him before he opened the door, “The building is closed, if you’d like to stop for office hours, please make an app- oh.” He looked pleasantly surprised as his gaze fell on you, a soft smile curling his lips.

Holding up your hands, you giggled softly, “I know I didn’t make an appointment, Professor, but I was hoping you could make time for me.” Your husband shook his head, laughing as he stood aside, letting you come in. “I made dinner! I know you’re working through midterm papers and all but... I got lonely, so I thought I’d bring it to you.” Your smile diminished slightly, wondering if he would be upset with you.

Yoongi liked to keep his professional life and home life separate, and you respected that. You didn’t pry into his classes unless he offered the information to you, and you never came during proper work hours. It was only because you knew the building would be closed and deserted that you even came tonight.

Yoongi sat on the couch in his office, dragging the coffee table over and motioning for you to sit down. With a delighted hum, you took a spot next to him, thighs pressed together. Unfolding the insulated bag, you laid it out and moved the containers so that both of you could eat from them. Nuzzling up close to him, you felt him sigh before he leaned over and kissed the crown of your head, “Thank you. I don’t remember when I last ate.”

You shook your head, admonishing him lightly as you grabbed a bowl, bringing it closer and feeding him a bite. You watched as he blushed, smiling as he chewed. Leaning back a bit more to rest against the couch, he wrapped one arm around your waist, looking up at you with puppy eyes. Grinning, you continued to feed him, taking a few bites yourself as he chewed thoughtfully. “How has grading been going?” Slipping him another bite, you quickly leaned down and kissed him, feeling him smile against you before you pulled away, letting him finish his mouthful.

Heaving a loud and heavy sigh, he whined as he looked up at the ceiling, “Remind me to discuss with the dean about shrinking my class size back to what it used to be a few years ago. There’s too many kids this semester. There were a few that requested special admission, so there’s even more than usual.” Sniffing, he pouted at you, opening his mouth again. You cooed softly at him, feeding him another bite and watching as his cheeks flushed as he chewed happily.

“Aw, sweetness, that's terrible. I’m sorry there’s so much work to be done. I’ll help however I can, even if it’s just to help decompress you, honey.” You grabbed the bottle of water from the table, opening it and holding it to his mouth. Trying to focus on his precious expression, and not how his throat moved with each drink, you pulled it away when he was done. “You have soju in your drawers, right? Want me to get you a glass?”

As you moved to stand, you squeaked as he grabbed your belt loop, tugging you back down and even closer to him than you were before. “No. Not right now. I just want you. And more food.” You giggled, looking at him as he stared dreamily up at you, a small smile on his kissable lips. Bending towards the table, you felt him rub your back as you grabbed the other bowl, bringing it up close and feeding him from that one, hearing him groan in satisfaction.

He was in bliss, having you for an extra visit and being pampered. He loved when you fed him, when he got to just lay back and relax. It was honestly the best way to be surprised in his office. As you fed him, he found his mind wandering further and further away, worrying less about work and more about how he wanted to go home with you. It had been a while since he got a full night’s rest.

Hearing your chopsticks scrape the bottom of the bowl, he opened his mouth, waiting for his next bite. As you gently laid it on his tongue, he hummed as he chewed softly. “I love you.” He heard you squeak softly, knowing you were blushing with a dopey smile on your face. “Thank you for coming tonight. I know I’ve been busy, you deserve more attention.” He accepted the next bite as well, not bothering to open his eyes.

You knew how he expressed his love, knowing his love language was acts of service and gift giving. Sometimes he felt guilty, knowing your love language didn’t exactly align with his, but countless times you had reassured him. You knew he loved you and that was that. Though it didn’t hurt to hear it every now and again.

Letting his legs fall open, he groaned loudly, feeling the stress and stiffness leave him slowly. He heard you set the bowl down, your body curling up next to his. Grabbing for your legs, he dragged them over his thigh, feeling your nails drift through his scalp, scratching softly and combing his hair. “You’ve really let your mane grow out, Professor. Do any of your students or colleagues think it’s too much?” He could hear the smile in your voice.

Huffing in laughter, he squeezed your thigh appreciatively. Tilting his head to be more pressed into your palms, he smiled, “Some of the students have mentioned it. Not to my face, but I hear them talk.” He snickered, hearing you huff. “None of the staff have said anything, so I’m guessing I can keep it.” Opening his eyes just a sliver, he looked at you, watching your expression.

You were trying to hold back your smile, shaking your head, “Good, I love it long. It’s so nice and soft and poofy. I love it so much.” You leaned forward, nuzzling him and sighing happily.

Yoongi smirked, licking his lips, “Plus, it’s nice for you to have something to hold onto while I’m eating you.” Laughing as you gasped loudly, he felt you slap his chest, quickly dissolving into laughter with him. “What? It’s true. Try to deny it.” Catching your wrist, he pulled you close, eyes darting to your lips with a smirk still on his own.

You felt your breath stutter in your throat, shuddering as his darkened gaze finally found yours, his smug smirk making your heart melt. Swallowing thickly, your voice was a husky whisper, “I- You said we couldn’t do anything in your office. Should we go home?” You watched, entranced as he leaned forward, biting your lip and dragging it between his teeth.

Letting go, he decided to shoot his shot at a fantasy he had been fighting down for months. Looking back into your eyes, he let his hand come up behind you, pulling your hair gently, just enough to excite you. “Ah, you can’t come home with me, that would be inappropriate. Office hours are just fine. Now tell me, do you want to pass this class?”

He felt you shiver in his grip, a soft breath hissed through your teeth. Giving you a moment, he worried that perhaps you hadn’t had the same fantasy. But sure enough, your voice was as husky as his, your lustful gaze on his, “Please, Professor Min. I really need to pass this class. I’ll do anything.” Your thighs rubbed together slightly, still propped up over his thigh.

Grinning, he used his foot to push away the table, dinner finished and just needed cleaning up. Once it was far enough away he didn’t need to worry about any spillage, he grabbed your leg, dragging you to sit on his lap, straddling him. Leaning back against the couch, he rested his hands behind his head, smirking, “Then show me how bad you need this grade.”

You swallowed thickly, licking your lips as you looked up at him. Leaning forward towards him, you dragged your fingers through his hair, tilting his head back and hovering your lips just over his, “Is this okay? Can I touch you, Professor?” He bit his lip to keep from grinning, instead just nodding and trying to look casual.

You made quick work of the space between you, crowding him and pressing your body against his, kissing him softly. His hands stayed behind his head, letting you do the work. You pulled back slightly, panting softly, “I’ve never done this with one of my professors before. Are you sure this is allowed?” Groaning at your innocent tone, he felt his cock get hard in his dress pants.

Letting one hand come up to your head again, he pulled your hair harder, hearing you whimper, “Do you want this grade or not?” Listening as you panted, he nodded your head for you, “Use your words, otherwise I’ll have to give that mouth something else to do.” He felt your thighs squeeze his hips, unable to keep the smirk off his face, knowing you were just as into the fantasy as he was. Of course he’d never do something with a student - he was far too obsessed and possessive of you - but having you in his office calling him Professor and bending to his will? He would gladly take it.

Panting, you tugged against his hand, whimpering when he didn’t let go, “Yoongi~” Crying out, you felt him pull harder, “P-Professor Min! Please, please can I kiss you? I promise I’ll make you feel good.” He groaned at your voice, head falling back against the couch. Letting go of your hair, he rested his palms on your thighs, giving you a sultry look and licking his lips slowly.

You bit your cheek to keep from grinning and jumping on him, trying to remember your role as a desperate student, but nervous to be with her teacher. Slowly, you leaned down, brushing a fingertip over one of his lips, biting your lip and smiling as he bit it softly, running his tongue over it. You could see the delight dancing in his eyes, both of you struggling to remain in character.

Swallowing, you puffed air over his face, falling back into your role and ghosting your lips over his. Feeling his grip on your thighs tighten, you pulled back, “Professor, please tell me what you want.” You pressed your forehead on his, your face flushed, “I’ve never done this before... I’m sorry I’m not experienced, but I promise I can satisfy you, anything for this grade, please Professor Min.”

He groaned loudly, dragging you almost imperceptibly closer to his body, “Such a bold little student I have. A cute little virgin willing to please her Professor for a passing grade?” He leaned forward a bit, biting your lip, “Then let me show you how to please a real man. I’m sure whatever guy you date will be happy you had such an experienced man teach you everything you need to know.” You grinned against his lips before he pressed his to yours, tongue swiping over your lip eagerly.

You fought the urge to let him in immediately, instead keeping your mouth closed and pulling back a bit, “What? I don’t get it, what do you want me to do?” You felt him growl against you, hands tightening in your hair and on your thigh, grip bruising as he shoved his mouth against yours and pressing his tongue into your mouth.

Unable to help yourself, you moaned hotly, legs falling wider apart in his lap as he ravaged your mouth. It was nearly intoxicating, feeling him kiss you so intensely after almost a week long dry spell. He was nothing if not devoted to his work, but right now, in this fantasy, you were his work. And you knew you’d get the same treatment as the papers on his desk.

His tongue licked all over your mouth, petting your own, tracing your teeth, and licking your cheeks. Pulling away, both of you panted, his eyes dark as they raked over your face. You couldn’t help but touch your lips with your fingertips with a dazed expression. Yoongi grinned, leaning forward and brushing his lips over the shell of your ear, “Never thought I’d get to break in a virgin again.” Licking you slightly, he felt your legs squeeze him.

The two of you were high school sweethearts, learning everything about pleasure together. He had been your first and you had been his. Him using the term ‘break in’ almost had you in a giggling fit, knowing all your first times had been bashful and blushy, and most certainly steeped in love. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you dragged your fingers through his hair, “Please be gentle, Professor.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but grin, leaning back and biting your bottom lip, eyes a bit wild. It seemed as if the nearly week long dry spell had him overly excited, plus the fantasy in his office so late at night. Letting go of your lip, he heard you whimper, “Gentle? You said you’d do anything to please me. Gentle isn’t something that pleases me, so I hope you don’t have some delusion that you’re walking out of here tonight after some lovey dovey touching. I’m going to break you.”

He watched as you whimpered, wiggling in his lap. He knew you wouldn’t be able to feel much relief through your jeans, but part of him loved it. He still felt good guiding your hips against his hard cock, moaning at the feeling. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your flushed cheeks making his heart beat just a bit faster. Licking his lips, he nudged your nose with his, coaxing you into another kiss, shoving his tongue back into your mouth.

You moaned against him, pulling him tighter against you and sighing. Playing with his tongue, yours pet his as he pressed against you. His hands drifted down, cupping your ass and squeezing, listening as you moaned into his mouth. Dragging your hands through his hair, you bucked your hips against his, desperate to feel his touch.

He pulled away from you, immediately nibbling and sucking your throat where he could reach. Your brows pinched up, sighing and gasping as you bit you. You knew you’d have fresh marks to hide at work, but you loved it. You loved getting up in the morning and seeing all the new bites, marks, and bruises he left on your body.

Grinding against him, you keened as he bit your throat, “P-Professor, please let me touch you.” He pulled away, his lips resting against your tender skin as he hummed thoughtfully.

Dragging his hands around to rest on your thighs, he slapped you playfully then squeezed tight. “Strip.” He sat back, pushing your knees and closing his legs so you could stand easier. Resting his hands behind his head again he licked his lips languidly. “And do it slowly. Give me a show, won’t you?” You bit your lip, whining in the back of your throat.

Stepping back a bit, you tossed up a finger, silently telling him to wait a moment. He watched you curiously as you packed up the bowls quickly, securing them back into the bag and placing it on the floor next to the door, which you then locked. Scampering back to stand in front of him, you slapped his knee as he giggled at you. Taking a deep breath you slapped your cheeks, trying to get back into character. Pouting, you pursed your lips at him, “Tell me to strip again, now I’m just excited!” You laughed together, Yoongi shaking his head.

Sitting up, he ruffled his hair, pulling it back into a ponytail before letting it cascade down his shoulders again. Looking up at you, he smirked as your eyes followed his hair. Settling back into the couch, he cleared his throat, getting your attention again, but snapping his fingers for good measure, watching as you blushed, knowing he only did it when he wanted you to get on your knees for him. “Eyes on me. Now strip down before I do it for you. And I won’t be nice about it.”

You whimpered, falling back into character and feeling your panties get wetter at his almost disinterested expression, yet his dark eyes stayed fixated on you. Playing with the hem of your sweater, you slowly tugged it up and over your head. Tossing it towards the door, you bit your lip, tracing the cups of your bra and shifting from foot to foot. “I said strip. Take it all off.” Moaning at his authoritative tone, you reached behind you, unclasping your bra and slowly dragging it down.

Looking away, you tried to look bashful as you covered your chest, one arm across them as you tossed your bra away. Yoongi groaned lowly, “Don’t hide yourself from me. If I have to get up, it’ll be a lot rougher for you tonight.” He pawed at his trousers lightly, trying to give himself any sort of friction. He saw you smile faintly, knowing you were hoping he would get up. Rolling his eyes he smiled, winking, “I’ll be rough no matter what. Now finish.”

Swallowing thickly, you let your arms fall to your side, heavy breasts exposed to Yoongi’s hungry gaze. Dragging his eyes over you, he felt drool pool in his mouth. Groaning, he adjusted his hips, eager to have you touch him once you were nude before him.

Watching you unbutton your jeans, you wiggled out of them slowly, dragging them over your thick thighs. Snapping his fingers again, you blushed as you looked up from where you were bent slightly. “Turn around. I wanna see that cute, tight ass as you bend over for me.” Standing back up, you blushed hotly, turning around and slapping your cheeks slightly, feeling yourself blush hotly.

Swallowing, you resumed your actions, thankful you wore cute panties. Once you got your jeans down to your ankles, you tugged them fully off, staying bent at the waist. Looking at Yoongi from down by your knees, your hair falling around you, you whimpered, “Do you want me to take my panties off, too, Professor Min?” He growled, eyes raking over your body that he could see.

“Yes. Good girl for asking.” You turned away from him, stomping your feet excitedly from his gravelly praise. Clearing your throat slightly, you slowly dragged your panties down. Stepping out of them slowly, you couldn’t help but blush, feeling bashful all of a sudden. Just as you tossed them away, you heard a camera shutter.

Gasping, you stood and whipped around, blushing as you saw Yoongi biting his lip and zooming in on his screen. “Yoongi-yah!” You couldn’t help but squeal as you covered your cheeks, stomping your feet and laughing. He laughed with you, tucking his phone away and shaking his head. Winking at you, he licked his lips, crooking his finger and enticing you closer.

Once you were in front of him, he sighed and tucked his hands behind his head. Nodding down towards his pants, he looked back up at you, quirking a brow as if to ask why you hadn’t already stripped him. Lowering yourself to your knees, you whispered for him to hold on as you crawled away to grab your sweater. Folding it and placing it under your knees, you looked back up at him, blushing at his love struck look.

Coughing to cover your smile, you kissed his knee softly, “Can I take your clothes off too, Professor Min?” Making your eyes big and round, you looked up at him from under your lashes, humming quietly.

Yoongi smirked, dragging a hand through his hair as he lifted his hips slightly, “No. All you need is my cock. Afterall, I’m not the one who needs to pass, am I?” You whimpered at his tone, hands sliding up his thighs to undo his trousers and dragging them down, along with his boxer briefs.

Groaning loudly as his cock was finally freed, he sat back down on the couch. Licking his lips, he watched as you tugged his pants to his knees and down a bit, letting you get a bit closer between his legs. Though he noticed you didn’t look directly at him, smirking as he remembered you were playing a virginal student.

He brought his hand down, dragging it through your hair before he grabbed it and made you look at his thick shaft, hearing you whimper, “What’s the matter? Never seen such a big cock before?” He pulled harder, hearing you gasp and moan loudly, your nails biting into his bare thighs where your hands rested on them. “Don’t worry about looking so much, I guess. I’ll be inside your mouth in just a moment anyways.”

Swallowing thickly, you panted slightly, “Professor Min, I’ve never- please-” He watched as your chest rose and fell with each breath.

Pulling you closer, he used his other hand to hold his cock to your mouth, coating your lips in his pre-cum before slapping them with it, “Please what? A girl like you hasn’t ever sucked a guy off before?” He scoffed, slapping your cheek next with his shaft, groaning tightly, “Want me to be gentle? Is that what you want? Too bad, baby. I’m not in the mood to pamper such a pure princess tonight.”

You moaned, licking your lips and opening your mouth, too excited to banter with him. You looked up at him, admiring his handsome face as he smirked down at you. Sighing, you felt his cock on your tongue, his hand loosening up in your hair as you slowly started to suck the tip. Looking up at him, you sighed as your hands drifted closer to your mouth, petting his strong thighs.

Swirling your tongue around him, you hummed softly. Yoongi’s head was tilted back, sighing and moaning as you pleasured him, mind in a haze after not feeling your touch in days. Smiling slightly, you took him deeper, feeling his hand in your hair go limp and rest there. Swallowing thickly, you took a deep breath before sinking as far as you could, petting his hard shaft with your delicate tongue.

Moaning around him, you heard him gasp, hips bucking up into your mouth. Scrunching your nose slightly, you slowly pulled back up, lavishing his tip and sucking him tightly. Becoming aware of his surroundings once more, he tipped his head back up, hand petting your hair and pulling it back into a ponytail before wrapping it around his fist, “P-Pretty talented for a virgin. You sure this is your first time with a cock in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed, smiling around him and not bothering to answer him, just looking up at him with flushed cheeks and slipping deeper. He moaned tightly as he felt himself hit the back of your throat, sighing as you dragged your head back up. Popping off him, you used your hand to stroke him as you kissed and licked his package.

“It’s my first time, but my friends have told me all about when they do it... Is it good? I just wanna make you feel good, Professor Min.” You tried to pitch your voice, sounding desperate as you licked back up his shaft from base to tip. As you flicked your tongue over his slit, he shivered, pulling your hair slightly. “Am I doing a good job, Professor? Please tell me what you want me to do.”

Gritting his teeth, he pushed your head down on him, “Be a good girl and take it all, want you to swallow my cock and take every load I give you.” You moaned around him, rubbing your wet thighs together. He gave you a second to catch your breath before taking a deep one. Once you squeezed his thigh lightly, he shoved you the rest of the way down his shaft, feeling himself inside your hot, tight throat.

Moaning loudly, his voice was rough as he slowly fucked your mouth. Dragging you by your hair, he bucked his hips as well, moaning as your tongue pressed against him, feeling you swallow around him. Tugging you up, you popped off him, panting and catching your breath. “Fuck... Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too fast.” He panted, hazy eyes looking down at you between his legs, your lips shining.

You bit your lip, smile threatening to break your cheeks. You felt his words stroke your ego, knowing you could make one of the most severe professors in the entire department fall apart with just your mouth. Sighing, you tapped his thigh looking back up at him through your lashes, “It’s okay, Professor Min. I want you to- to finish in my mouth. Please.”

He smirked, guiding you back to his cock, sighing as your hand held and massaged his heavy package. “Aw, can’t say ‘cum’, baby girl?” He pulled your hair, stopping you just as you kissed the tip of his shaft, “Beg me for it, baby. Be a good girl and beg me to blow my load down your throat. Tell me how bad you wanna swallow my cum.”

You whined, pulling against his hand slightly just for him to pull harder. “Please, Y- Professor Min! Please cum in my mouth, I wanna taste you, please!” Groaning as you keened, he shoved you down halfway, growling as he felt your breath puff across his bush. Once you had a deep enough breath, you tapped his thigh softly. Roughly, he shoved you down the rest of his shaft, your nose against his coarse, dark curls.

Gagging slightly, you relaxed your throat, taking a few calming breaths and swallowing around him. Looking up, you felt tears gather on your lash line, tapping his thigh softly again. Clenching his other hand into a fist, he tightened his hold in your hair and resumed fucking your mouth. Panting, he bucked his hips, moaning as your tongue dragged against him.

Arching his back, his head fell against the couch, chest heaving with every breath, “Fuck, fuck! Baby, fuck! Gonna cum, be a good girl and swallow it, it’s all for you, fuck!” Arching, he held your face down, cock throbbing and pulsing in your throat as you felt him blow his load, filling your belly. Swallowing around him, you wiggled your face, causing him to keen as his hips stuttered, emptying himself into your tummy.

Panting for breath, he loosened his hand, letting you press your palms against his thighs as you slowly lifted yourself off of him. With a wet pop, you gasped for air, coughing slightly as his messy cock fell against his lower belly, happy trail getting covered in your drool and his cum.

Wiping at your lips, you licked any stray amounts of his cum from your fingertips, smiling happily to yourself and leaning forward, licking him softly and swallowing any that you missed on him. Finishing your clean up, you wiggled up next to him on the couch, holding him to your bare chest.

Feeling him pant against you, you brushed his sweaty hair from his forehead, kissing the crown of his head softly and whispering sweet nothings. Nuzzling against him, you hummed happily. Slowly, he could feel himself again, fingers twitching and brows furrowing. “It’s been too long obviously... Even just a few days and you suck me off once and I’m like a spent teenager again.”

You giggled, kissing his forehead and cheeks. Slowly, his eyes focused on you again, hands coming up and squishing your cheeks. Kissing his nose, you sighed happily, “Are you done for the night? I can pack up your papers and drive us home. I’ll bring you back Monday morning.” It didn’t pass him by how you were basically saying he would spend the weekend at home, but he loved it. Loved when you took charge and directed him exactly where you wanted him to be, knowing he was a bit of a workaholic.

Licking his lips, he leaned down, kissing the swell of your breasts, “Later. I’m not done with you yet.” He felt you shudder, smiling against him. He knew you were far from satisfied, especially since it had been so long. “You haven’t done enough to earn that grade. You think swallowing my cock is it? My class is much too difficult to equate to such a miniscule one time thing.” He looked up at you through his lashes, smirking as he saw your blush.

Moving to straddle him, you set your hands on his shoulders, looking at him intently, “Yes, sir. Whatever else you want, I’ll do it. I’ll keep your cock in my mouth for the rest of the semester if it’ll help keep you generous with my scores.” His head fell back, eyes closing and groaning loudly. You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth and trying to stay in character.

His hands rested atop your thighs, squeezing. “Whatever else I want?” He hummed thoughtfully, slowly pushing you off his lap. Leaning over to his coat rack, he heard you giggle behind him, shaking his head as his trousers were around his ankles. Finally just kicking off one of his shoes, he stepped out of one leg, waddling to grab his sweater and waddling back, cock semi hard and slapping against his thighs softly.

Shaking his head, he stuck his tongue out at you before bending and grabbing the sweater you had been kneeling on. Spreading both of them out on his couch, he held your hands as he gently spread you out over them, making sure your bare body and face weren’t touching the cushions. He shuddered to even consider how many people had sat on this couch over the years.

Making sure his sweater came up just under your ass, to catch any stray spillage afterwards, he knelt between your legs, spreading them wide on either side of him. Groaning as he saw your perfectly wet cunt, he nipped the inside of your calf, which was resting against his still clothed chest.

You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your face. Quickly fanning yourself, you cleared your throat, looking up at him with a timid expression, “Professor?” Your breathless tone had him groaning low and gravelly. Stroking his cock, he slapped it against your lower belly, resting it on you so you can feel how thick and big he was.

Shivering, you felt yourself clench, desperately wanting him inside you. His rough voice pulled you from your thoughts, making you wetter. “Think you can take me? Look how big my cock is, baby. A sweet virgin like you? I’ll break you in half.” You couldn’t help but think back to the first time the two of you had gone all the way, even if he hadn’t completely finished growing up, it had been a tight fit.

Blushing, you bit your lip, hand tentatively reaching down and stroking him, biting back your moan. “I can take it, Professor Min. Please, just give me a chance.” You couldn’t help the excitement in your voice, hips wiggling subtly in Yoongi’s grip. You knew he noticed, but he was able to stay in character, looking down at you with a vaguely cold look, not quite able to pull it off when it was his gorgeous wife splayed out under him.

Licking his lips slowly, he smirked as you watched the action closely. Settling your legs against his chest, he groaned as he dragged his cock along your soaked slit, watching you shiver with anticipation. “Gonna take you hard and rough. Think you can handle it, princess?” He watched as you covered your mouth, watching your eyes crinkle and knowing you were smiling.

Taking a deep breath, you dropped your hands, nodding with an apprehensive expression, “Yes, I can take it, please, Professor, just take me.” Groaning harshly, he made sure the tip of his cock slipped inside before anchoring both palms on either side of your head. With a cocky smirk and dark eyes looking down at you, you couldn’t help but bite your lip, squealing as he shoved himself fully inside you.

Your hands wrapped around his wrists above you, legs shaking as he sat fully sheathed inside your tight cunt. Moaning loudly, you squeezed him tightly, hearing him moan roughly, “Fuck, you’re so tight. You really are a virgin, aren’t you, princess? Fuck, taking my cock so well, don’t think I’ll be able to hold back from breaking this pretty cunt of yours.” He grinned down at you, watching as you smiled dazedly.

Pulling himself back, he bucked back into you, starting up a rough pace. Each time he pounded back into you had you gasping, moaning his name and keening sharply. Soon, you had your hands clasped over your mouth, watching as Yoongi bit his lip, trying to keep himself quiet as well, just in case anyone was in the building for whatever reason.

Gasping behind your palms, you arched your back, “Yoongi! Please! I- ahh! P-Professor, I can’t! Please, please touch me~” Your brows knit up, moaning lasciviously, watching as he licked his lips and grinned. Moving his weight to one hand, he brought his other down, playing with your clit. Immediately curling forward, you cried out behind both hands, voice reaching your husband as easily as if you were screaming.

Sitting back on his heels, he dragged your hips up and closer, fingers playing expertly with your clit as you matched his pace easily, knowing all his moves. You arched against the couch, head falling to the side as you lost yourself in his pleasure. His cock stroked you perfectly, and in this angle made easy work of your gspot. Gasping against your palms, you felt your eyes water, your climax rushing down your spine.

Yoongi could feel your thighs quaking where they rested on his arms, having slipped from his shoulders. Maintaining his pace, he kept his hips bucking into you, readjusting his hand that was playing with your clit to also press down on your lower belly, making sure his cock was pounding your sweet spot over and over.

He heard you scream behind your hands, nails biting into your cheeks as you writhed under him. He couldn’t help but grin, teeth shining in the light as he panted, “That’s it baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on my cock, pretty girl, I know you can. C’mon, good girl, just like that.” He watched as your chest darkened, body flushing as you keened under your palms.

Shuddering as he felt your cunt squeeze him, he imagined if anyone else were in the building, how they’d know how good he fucked you. He was sure none of them would be able to look him in the eye after. Not that many did anyways, he was aware of his effect on other people, after all you made sure to remind him every moment how ethereal he was.

Licking his lips, eased his hand up, gently circling your clit with feather light touches. Soon, your body quit trembling, your husband cooing softly to you as your eyes fluttered open again. Looking at him, you pulled your hands away to speak before crying out loudly, feeling him buck against you. “Y-You didn’t finish, baby?” You whimpered as he took his spot back above you, anchoring his palms on either side of your head, grin on his lips.

Leaning down, he caught you in a kiss, shoving his tongue into your mouth as he began pounding you fast and hard. You reached up, grabbing his hair and crying out loudly. Trying to pull away, he followed you down, body flush to your sweaty one as he fucked you fast. The way he pet your mouth with his tongue was a sharp contrast to how he pounded you, cock making you feel dumb and dazed.

You moaned hotly against him, hands pulling his hair as you keened, drooling on his tongue. His hands moved from your shoulders to hold your legs up and wider open, bruising his hips against yours. With a gasp, he pulled away from you, panting heavily as he watched you drool under him, breasts bouncing and expression blissed out.

Grinning, he leaned down, biting your chest and leaving marks all over you. Feeling your thighs shake against his palms, he bit you harder, feeling his own climax approaching. “Yoongi~” His name was hoarse as you whispered it, eyes fluttering. You whimpered as he fucked you, pulling his face flush to your bouncing chest, heart pounding.

He groaned your name, drooling onto your bruised breasts, hips stuttering, “Fuck, fuck- cum for me, baby, one more time, fuck-! I know you can- ahh!” His breath stuttered in his lungs, shoving one hand down and grinding his fingers roughly against your clit, feeling you immediately squeeze around him.

Gasping, he shouted, cursing as he finished inside, listening as you moaned loudly as his fingers got you off after. Growling in his chest, he couldn’t help but glare down at you, lustful gaze intense as you whimpered. Pulling himself free, you cried out at the loss, feeling his cum spill from you.

However, he easily slipped his digits inside you, panting heavily as he pushed his cum back inside. Not stopping there, he felt for your gspot and quickly began pounding it just as hard as he was fucking you, determined to make you squirt on him. Crying out, you covered your mouth again, tears slipping past your lashes.

Trying to close your legs, you keened as he kept them forced open, spreading his own legs and keeping yours pried open. Licking his lips, he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, watching your dazed expression, “C’mon, squirt for me. Be a good girl and squirt all over my hands.” Screaming behind your palms, you whipped your head to the side, body quaking with effort and pleasure.

He felt your cunt squeeze him, your mixed cum covering his hands and wrist and he pounded you hard. It didn’t take much more until you were arching, gushing all over his hands and making him moan, the filthy sound echoing in your otherwise empty head. Collapsing against the couch, you gasped for air, swallowing your mouthfuls of drool.

Feeling boneless, you let Yoongi move about his office as you blinked owlishly at the ceiling, unaware of mostly everything around you. Soon, you felt something soft between your thighs, petting your sensitive skin gingerly. You then saw Yoongi in your line of vision, blinking up at him as he smiled gently. Closing your eyes, you felt him kiss you softly, scattering them over your face, neck, and chest.

You tried to lift your arms up to hold him against you, but he slipped through your fingers relatively easily, not as though you were moving very fast. You heard rustling as you slowly came back into your body, wiggling your toes and fingers.

Before you could sit up, you felt Yoongi sit above your head, slowly dragging you across the sweaters on the couch to rest you on his lap. Kissing your forehead, he leaned back, letting you rest on his chest. Licking your lips, you coughed slightly before smiling, “So, do I get that passing grade, Professor Min?”

You felt his chest rattle with laughter, kisses being peppered all atop your head. Shaking his head, he pet you softly, “You do. You did a great job. Maybe I should have you stop by more often outside of office hours... You wouldn’t believe what a stress reliever this has been.” You laughed softly along with him, gently being lulled to sleep by the soft sounds in his chest.

Holding you for a bit longer, Yoongi basked in the afterglow of your intimacy. He felt especially relaxed, chalking it up to the fact he was incredibly pent up, not to mention how hot the little roleplaying act had been for him. Once he got all the feeling back in his legs, he wiggled you off his lap, sitting you back across the couch so you were sitting on his sweater.

It wasn’t so cold outside that he’d freeze without it, knowing all you had to wear really was your sweater. Gathering up your clothes, he stuffed your panties into his pocket. Wiggling your jeans up your legs, he left them unbuttoned. Shoving your bra into his briefcase, he also just tossed your sweater on.

Gathering all his papers, he stared at them before leaving them on his desk, instead just grabbing his over the shoulder bag, transferring your bra and panties to it, tying the dinner bag to it with his tie, and then shuffled you to the side of the couch, shoving his very soiled sweater into his bag as well, shuddering at the heady scent of it.

Fishing out your keys from your purse, he then sat between your legs, hefting you up onto his back. Carrying you carefully out of his office, he locked his door and made his way back down the deserted hallways, motion sensored lights turning on as he passed by them. Shivering as he stepped out into the evening, he quickly found himself missing the warmth of your body around his.

Clicking the unlock button on the fob, he tossed your purse in the back seat before laying you down. Weaseling a seatbelt around your waist without cutting you in half, he dumped his other two bags on the floor, closing the door softly behind you.

Sitting in the front, he adjusted the seat and mirrors before turning the car on, immediately turning the music off where he knew it would be loud. Sighing contentedly, he began driving the two of you home - not living that far from the university. Winding down university streets out onto the main roads, then down some residential streets, it wasn’t long until he was hitting the button for the garage. Parking the car, he grabbed the bags first, tossing them on the table inside before carefully extracting you.

Carrying you into the house and to the bedroom, he laid you down onto the bed, tugging off your clothes easily and tossing a stray blanket over you. Heading into the bathroom, he lit a few candles and started to fill up the tub, sprinkling relaxing bath salts into the water and stirring them around.

Once he was sure everything was alright, he went back into your shared bedroom, the lights off. Giggling, he saw where you had wrapped yourself up into the blanket. Crawling in behind you, he hugged you to his chest, forgetting to strip himself down. Sighing heavily, he kissed the back of your neck, “Are you awake? I have a bath running for us.”

That seemed to wake you up as you grumbled next to him. Soon, you were eagerly crawling out from under the blanket, eyes half open as you tugged at his hand, “Bath~ Yoongi-yah, c’mon~” He laughed as he let you tug him up, stripping himself down as you walked him to the bathroom. Kicking off his pants, he almost tripped, grabbing you around the waist and listening as you shouted and braced the two of you against the counter.

Laughing softly together, you felt him gather you up into his arms, smiling down at you. You sighed contentedly, leaning up and kissing him softly, whispering your love to him. Noticing the bathtub was full enough. You bent over to turn it off, shouting as Yoongi smacked your ass lightly.

Shaking your head, you stuck your tongue out and stepped into the bath. He wasn’t far behind you, slipping in and scooting to sit directly behind you. Wrapping his arms around you, he rested his face in your neck, yawning. “So tired...” You laughed, bringing a wet hand up to pet his hair, shouting as he shook it out like a dog.

Coaxing him into laying back, you rested against his chest. “Let’s relax for a bit, then I’ll clean us up so we can go to sleep, okay?” He nodded lethargically behind you, already drifting off in a nap. You couldn’t help but laugh softly, cooing back to him and calling him your kitty cat.

Letting him drift off to sleep, you slowly began to wash your body off. Turning in Yoongi’s lap, you gently washed his body as well. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but smile as you gently cleaned him below the belt, giggling quietly as his soft delicate skin filled your hands. You heard him huff, looking up at him and finding him staring at you.

Looking away, you hummed innocently, continuing to clean him as he shook his head, laughing silently and easily falling back to sleep as you moved and massaged his thighs. Nudging him delicately, you slipped behind him, taking time to massage his neck and shoulders, hearing him groan and moan loudly at your firm but gentle touches.

Once you finished lavishing your husband in loving touches, you leaned around, emptying the tub. Grabbing the cup you kept by the bath, you turned the faucet on, filling it up and dumping the water over the newly exposed parts of your bodies, not wanting to bother with getting into the shower.

Humming softly, you rinsed Yoongi off, cooing softly to him and whispering sweet nothings. Soon enough, the tub was drained and the two of you had been rinsed off. You made sure he wouldn’t slip over the tub as you got out and grabbed your towels. Ruffling his hair, you whispered softly to him, “Baby, it’s time to get up. Bedtime~” He groaned at your words, but moved nonetheless.

He held his arms and legs out and up as you asked him, kneeling down and drying him off. Kissing his belly, you heard him giggle softly, covering where you had kissed with his hand and blushing.

Padding quietly back into the bedroom, you turned down his covers, helping him in bed and watching him sink into the pillow and sheets. Giggling, you pulled the comforter back up, tucking him in with a kiss to his forehead, cheeks, then soft lips. Scampering to your side of the bed, you slipped in as well, quickly wiggling to your husband and laying softly against him.

Kissing his shoulder, you smiled contentedly, “I love you, Yoongi.” He hummed in response, half asleep, and wrapped himself around you. Holding his head to your chest, you sighed happily, feeling yourself fall asleep completely for the night, knowing you had all weekend to spend with your beloved.

[hippolotamus]

Way More Than Seven Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the lovely and talented @kitteneddiediaz @tizniz @diazsdimples @spotsandsocks @inell @wikiangela Be sure to check their works!

IDK this has been rolling around in my brain since I first heard Casual. Sooo… 🦴 🍎 🦷

“C’mon, Luce,” Nat teases from the driver’s seat, poking Lucy’s thigh. “I play personal taxi and can’t even get a tour? Guess I need to up my game.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. Hopefully it’s more annoyed than fond. Honestly, Natalia could ask for a million things and Lucy would readily give them. At least, she wants to. She wants to want to. But that involves levels of vulnerability Lucy plans to keep locked up tighter than Diaz’s Catholic guilt.

“Your game’s fine, Dollenmeyer. I’ll show you around.” Lucy grabs her work bag and exits the car before Nat can gloat and kiss her about it.

Kinard and Thompson are chatting over coffee in the hangar, while Lee checks over the equipment in one of the birds.

“Well, if it isn’t my little ray of sunshine,” Kinard chirps, flashing his stupid, dazzling lovesick smile. God, Buckley’s got him so whipped. She’s happy for them but Jesus Christ. “And who do we have here?”

Tommy, ever the gentleman and charmer, takes Nat’s offered hand. “Tommy Kinard. One of Lucy’s favorite teammates,” he says with a wink.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard about you!”

“This is Nat. Natalia,” Lucy interjects. “We were hanging out and she very nicely agreed to drop me off since my car’s in the shop.”

Beside her, Nat stiffens. Tommy raises an eyebrow, shooting a knowing look at Lucy.

This. This is why she tried to resist Nat’s offer and insisted an Uber would be fine. Because Lucy knows she’s fucked up. Knew she would before it happened. What’s worse is Tommy knows — or highly suspects — she fucked up. He was in the closet too long, and with too many shitty partners, to not see right through her. He’s going to give her hell about this.

“Uh, yeah,” Nat agrees, barely hiding the way her voice is trembling. She drops Tommy’s hand and clutches her purse tighter. “So, uh, gonna take a raincheck on that tour. Maybe another time. Nice to meet you.”

Nat doesn’t run back to the car but she may as well. She doesn’t look at Lucy once. Not with anger or sadness or disappointment. Not at all. Lucy bites the inside of her cheek and watches her go despite the desperate clawing thing in her chest that wants Nat to stay. Now. Forever maybe.

She hikes her bag up on her shoulder, turning to walk toward the locker room, only to be met with Tommy still there. His arms are crossed and he doesn’t look at her with any judgement. It would be better than the almost pitying, understanding expression he’s wearing.

“What, Kinard?” She bites out, staring past him. “I have to change for my shift. Just- say it already.”

He watches her a moment longer, rolling his lips in, assessing. “Do I even have to?”

“I have to change for my shift,” she says again, biting her bottom lip, hard. Because she’s not going to get upset about this now. Just like she’s not going to think about waking up this morning, for the very first time, to Nat sleeping beside her, hair sprawled across the pillow while sunlight painted her bare back. How it made Lucy ache.

Tommy sidesteps, making a sweeping gesture to let her know she’s free to go anytime. She nods tightly, unable to meet his gaze as she passes.

“Y’know, I kinda wanted to hate her,” Tommy starts. Because he’s a bastard that way. She hates him. Hates him so fucking much for it that she loves him for being so goddamn forgiving and thought provoking. She swears he went to the Bobby Nash School of Life Advice and Mentoring.

She stops, but doesn’t turn around.

“Evan said nice things about her. Decent things anyway. Admittedly, I wasn’t crazy about why she was into him. But he didn’t have anything terrible. Being his first- I felt a little nervous and wanted to find something. Anything about the people in his past. You know how it can be with exes. Gets messy sometimes.” He pauses, probably sipping his lukewarm coffee. “And then they just- I don’t know, surprise the hell out of you in an unexpected way.” Another pause. “Don’t worry. I won’t hold you up anymore.”

His footsteps echo across the hangar, growing quieter. Lucy tightens her death grip on her bag and marches to the locker room. When she gets there, if she turns on the showers so she can cry in peace, that’s between her and the ancient tile and god.

np tagging @actuallyitsellie @diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck @saybiwithme @bidisasterevankinard @dangerpronebuddie @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @exhuastedpigeon @jesuisici33 @dr-shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @dorkydiaz @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @beyourownanchor6 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @shipperqueen6 and anyone else who wants to 😘

[the-bitterest-breakups-poll]

Poll: Round 1c #7

[ Image ID. An image of the first volume cover of The scum villain's self-saving system, and an image of the poster for Major Grom: Plague Doctor. End ID]

*Reminder that Break up is being used loosely here and not all relationships may be romantic in nature

Propaganda under cut:

Shen Qingqiu and Yue Qingyuan:

<tw: child abuse, slavery, torture>

- Child slaves who bonded very closely with each other through shared trauma. Ended up kind of feral about each other.

- Shen Jiu ended up being bought by a rich asshole solely for the purpose of making his life hell, after he saved Yue Qi from being trampled by said rich asshole’s horse.

- Yue Qi tries to save him over and over again, but fails every time, eventually runs away to become a cultivator and promises he will come back.

- Three years later, Shen Jiu snaps and kills the rich asshole and his family and runs off to apprentice under a notorious criminal. He assumes Yue Qi is dead.

- A year after that, he finds out that Yue Qi is not dead, but instead the head disciple of a cultivation sect, now known as Yue Qingyuan. Shen Jiu is very upset finding out that Yue Qi had abandoned him.

- Yue Qingyuan gets Shen Jiu a place in the sect, and eventually he becomes the second in command of the sect, while Yue Qingyuan is the leader.

- They don’t become friends again, even though their positions require them to interact. Instead, any time they have a conversation, they part on bad terms within five lines of dialogue.

- Shen Jiu, now Shen Qingqiu, kind of ends up being a terrible person because he has no idea how to cope with his trauma and is constantly lashing out. Yue Qingyuan tries his best to reconcile and accommodate him to the point where he often turns a blind eye to Shen Jiu’s actions.

- Eventually, Shen Jiu ends up imprisoned and tortured by his former disciple Luo Binghe as retribution for his abuse. Luo Binghe uses Shen Jiu to set a trap for Yue Qingyuan, and Yue Qingyuan dies very badly, which is what ends up completely breaking Shen Jiu.

- Later, you find out that Yue Qingyuan hadn’t abandoned Shen Jiu, but instead he had tried so hard to get strong enough to come back to save him that he ended up very nearly dying, going through horrific trauma of his own. By the time he got out of the cave he had been trapped in, he went to get Shen Jiu but found the estate burned down and assumed that his old friend was dead.

- They could be interpreted romantically or just as friends, but their breakup kind of ended up basically causing the destruction of the world over an awful misunderstanding.

- Anyway I am very feral over them.

Igor Grom and Sergey razumovski:

It's a friendship breakup! Except neither of them had made a friend in a long time so they didn't *realize* they were friends even though it was super obvious and other characters saw it. [SPOILERS FROM HERE] The unsaid made the breakup worse when Igor (the cop trying to catch the Plague Doctor (who makes some good points but goes about it in a bad way, like many movie villains)) finally understood that the Plague Doctor was Sergey. But neither of them knew that it was actually Sergey's alter personality. So Igor thought the Plague Doctor was Sergey's best friend, then learned that the guy had been dead for years, then went to see Sergey fully convinced that it was yet someone else, *anyone else*, that Sergey could help him find. Meanwhile Sergey had offered Igor his help to catch the Plague Doctor, and was happy to see his new friend come see him, just to learn that said new friend now suspects him of being a terrorist (give him a break T_T) The messy part is that Sergey immediately crashes a bottle on Igor's skull, then regrets it because he thought he killed his friend, then, because obviously Igor's not dead, sets him up so that Igor's colleagues think that *Igor* is the Plague Doctor and throw him in jail. When of course Igor breaks out and goes to confront Sergey (without any backup, because he doesn't want to endanger his two allies who are now the closest he's got to friends), they talk with their fists. And the furniture in the room. And also flamethrowers. It's messy. At some point during the fight Igor's plan is to throw both of them, Sergey and himself, together, from the window. Which he does. They're on the top floor of a skyscraper. That is such a reasonable, thought-out, restrained reaction to being disappointed by someone (/ironic). They only survive because other people catch them.

[fictionfordays]

SFW Alphabet (A-Z)

Tomura Shigaraki x GN!Reader

CW: Reader is called "sweetheart", kisses, Shiggy is a bit awkward ig, mostly fluffy but some bits might be slightly angsty?

WC: >1.7k

A/N: I have been very excited to start an SFW alphabet for my Crusty King! Might be working on an NSFW one as well... Anywho, I love him! Thank you to everyone who helped me get some thoughts for a few of the letters!<3 (specifically @dabismoon, doll, you have such a brilliant mind ilysm<333) Here's the link for the sfw template I used, (I did make one or two changes though to make my life a bit easier)

Back to Main Masterlist | BNHA/MHA Masterlist

Activities – What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

He loves gaming with you. You tend to play Mario Kart or random arcade games on console for your dates. He’d love to go to an actual arcade with you, but that’s not really in the cards rn so virtual arcade it is!

Boo! – How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

He’s… not really sure how to feel about surprises? Like he’d be open to them? But he’s not really sure how to react if he’s the one receiving. He does like giving you surprises, but he doesn’t dress them up or make them a big deal. It’s more like: “Here, I got this for you.” *Hands you the trinket*

Comfort – How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or try to handle it themselves?

Feelings are weird, man. He’s not really sure how to comfort you if you’re upset. It kinda depends on why you’re upset. Did someone hurt you? Not to worry bc he’ll end them. Your feelings doing a thing? Idk, he’s a little more lost on this one so he might just try to distract you with a game. If you’re really not up to anything then he’ll cuddle you quietly, a soft blush on his cheeks. He, on the other hand, does not want to be comforted. He will handle this on his own just like he always has

Dance – Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

Nope. No no no. He is not a dancer. He is a terrible dancer. Don’t ask, he will immediately refuse. You’ll be stuck dancing with Mr. Compress, Twice, or Toga, (maybe Dabi if you really sweeten him up)

Excitement – How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

He does like… a little… moan? When he gets excited? He stops scratching his skin, a small smile forming on his lips, and depending on what’s getting him excited, he may also blush or run his hand through his hair so you can actually see his whole face! There are a great many a things that you can do to get him excited: getting a new 2-player game for date nights, sometimes even flustering him (but only in private, he’s the boss afterall) He also appreciates when his plans go his way, or something works out in his favour

Future – What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

He’s got a world to dominate, broski. Stick with him at your own risk (I say this lovingly ofc). I don’t see him getting married, but there’s potential for a long-term partner. I also don’t see him having kids. His childhood was too problematic, plus his quirk? No thanks.

Gifts – What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

He doesn’t get you gifts often, but he does like to gift you little trinkets when he happens upon one he thinks you’ll like. He prefers gifting you things you can do together, like multi-player games. He’d also be open to getting you a new hoodie (or more likely, acquiring a new hoodie for himself that you always end up stealing)

Hold – How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

If this is pre-controlling his quirk, then he likes how fearlessly you hold his pinkie. Regardless, he prefers being the little spoon or having you sprawled out on top of him when sleeping if you’re cold natured

Ideal – What’s their ideal date like?

Gaming together! Besides, he’s trying to destroy the world as it is currently so… there’s not much he can do out and about

Jealousy – Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

He does not get jealous easily. Not to say he doesn’t get jealous, it just doesn’t happen easily. He… does not handle it well. He can be quite short-tempered with you when he’s jealous. It can go one of two ways: 1. He lets it simmer and fester for a while before blowing up at you or 2. You notice he’s acting different and bring it up shortly after

Kisses – How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

He looooooves kissing you. It’s a way to show you attention and care without needing to use his hands. I feel like he loves to kiss the top of your head. And also your fingers, like your fingers are so soft compared to his!!! Kisses happen fairly frequently in private. He doesn’t like PDA, but the once in a while kiss on the cheek makes him feel soft

Love – How do they show you that they love you?

He loves to touch you. Your skin is so soft and he loves how velvet-y it feels beneath his rough fingertips. When he is having trouble going to sleep, he’ll lay next to you quietly, gaze fixated on your sleeping face while he traces your features softly. His fingers always linger on your cheeks or your waist (depending on how he’s holding you) As stated previously, he loves holding your pinkie finger, it’s just such an intimate feeling

Melt – What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

Just the fact that you seem to genuinely care. You don’t try to change him or make him something that he’s not. You’re tender, perhaps a little shy yet straightforward with him, which I think he appreciates. You’re not afraid of him, or maybe you are but you’re good at hiding it. You… accept him

Nicknames – What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

He calls you “sweetheart” or by your name He really loves it when you call him by a shortened version of his name, like “Tomu’,” and he really loves it when you use “Tenko,” he might even like it when you call him “baby” ;)

Obvious – How obvious do they make it that they like you?

Not very obvious that he likes you at all. He expects to be rejected so he keeps his feelings to himself. If you happen to bring it up however, he’ll admit them

Pets – Do they have pets? Do they want them?

No pets, he doesn’t want any. He’s very traumatized about pets so… it would take a LOT of convincing

Quiet – How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

He’s pretty chill tbh. Relatively quiet, prefers to listen to whatever you have to say, but doesn’t mind chatting if something is on his mind. He likes sitting in the room with you, you could be doing your own thing while he games and he’s perfectly content

Romance – How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

Not very romantic and very confused about what that means??? Might get an idea or two from some rom-com you make him watch, but he’s very clumsy about romance

Safe – What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

He won’t really be in a relationship with you if he doesn’t feel safe or comfortable in some capacity. He likes that you listen to him talking. Not just hearing his words or doing as he says but actually listening to him, asking him questions. The fact that you put zero pressure on him to behave a certain way or react a certain way is also reassuring. He enjoys spending time with you, you make him feel loved

Tend – How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

If you’re hurt, his reaction depends on how you got hurt. If someone hurt you, they’re dead meat, make no mistake. If he accidently hurt you, I think he’d feel… absolutely awful and wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. He’s not really sure what to do if you feel emotionally hurt? Like, do you need a hug? If you’re sick he tries to remember how his mom would take care of him when he was sick, but it was so long ago… He does appreciate when you take care of him. If you make him some soup while he’s sick, or tend to whatever wounds he may have. You always treat him so tenderly

Unforgettable– What’s something you do or have done that they’ll never be able to forget?

Something he’ll never forget is the first time you gamed together. He barely knew your name, and he definitely didn’t peg you to be a gamer like he is. You’re so… pretty? And smart? Likeable even? Neither of you really talked while you were gaming either. Maybe a playful insult or some competitive banter here and there. That was the first time he’d ever lost a game, and he’d gladly lose again if it meant seeing your face light up when you win.

Variety – Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

I think he prefers consistency. He’s a villain and he gets enough ~spice~ from his lil missions and whatnot. He just likes to game, leave him alone :(

Wash – What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

He loves bathing with you. You’re so sweet the way you wash his hair for him. He’ll try to wash yours, too. He’ll lather up some soap to rub delicately over your skin. You’ll turn towards him, washing his face with such tenderness, a focused expression on your face as your fingers run lightly over his skin. After a bath? Also his favourite. You’re just so soft with him, moisturizing his dry skin, combing through his wet hair, loving him

XO – How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

He’s not really big on PDA, but he can be very affectionate in private! As I said before, he loves kissing you. He’ll lay his head in your lap if he’s tired or stressed. Expect cuddles in private, too. CUDDLING WHILE GAMING (I will die on this hill)

Yearn – What do they do when they miss you?

He doesn’t really do anything per se? He gets a little more agitated than normal, maybe. Possibly seems more distant or absent when he has to talk to say another member of the League

Zzz – How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

When he’s sleepy, he gets a bit more cuddly. He can also be a little shorter-tempered, depending on how tired he is

Tags: @tired-teacher-blog @a-contemplation-upon-flowers​ @enchantedforest-network @nanamis-wifey-reye

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I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2023.

[joons]

This may be a prickly subject, and I'm sorry if so. But I'm trying to learn more about Elvis, and every time I bring him up to people I know, they try to tell me he was this terrible person, and point me toward Priscilla's book, the movie made on it, and the discourse. Idk if you've talked about it on here (I tried searching your blog but couldn't find anything on it). If you're willing, I'd love to hear your take on it so I can see a more nuanced view.

The film Priscilla was greenlit roughly a month after Priscilla herself was informed that she was close to becoming financially insolvent in 2022. With a business partner, Brigitte Kruse, who allegedly helped broker the film deal, she established a limited liability company called Priscilla Presley Partners that was supposed to use her image and likeness to create several lines of merchandise to coincide with the film's release. That business partner is now suing Priscilla because she did not have the rights to her image or likeness, or any ability to use the Presley name, because she had already sold all of those rights and was no longer considered in good standing with Graceland or Elvis Presley Enterprises. The entire business deal, then, according to the lawsuit, was built on her misrepresentation of how much her image was worth.

The deal between the two of them fell apart after Riley Keough, Lisa Marie's daughter and Priscilla's granddaughter, settled with Priscilla to give her a lump sum of $1 million from Lisa Marie's estate and yearly amounts of $100,000. Priscilla sued very shortly after Lisa Marie's death because she thought Lisa Marie's signature on a will had been forged because Priscilla was not included in it. All of the assets were supposed to go directly to Lisa Marie's son, Benjamin Keough, who died in 2020, and her three daughters, two of whom are still teenagers. Now, part of those assets have been claimed by Priscilla and her other son, Navarone, who has no connection to the Presley family and has stated he is glad Lisa died.

Four months before Lisa's death, Lisa wrote to Sofia Coppola and made it clear she had strong concerns about the Priscilla film and was suspicious of the intentions behind it:

"As his daughter, I don’t read this and see any of my father in this character. I don’t read this and see my mother’s perspective of my father. ... I will be forced to be in a position where I will have to openly say how I feel about the film and go against you, my mother and this film publicly."

Lisa was enormously grateful for efforts put into 2022's Elvis to find her father's soul and to restore his dignity in a world that often turns him and his family into a joke:

"You can feel and witness Baz’s pure love, care, and respect for my father throughout this beautiful film, and it is finally something that myself and my children and their children can be proud of forever."

It is such a strong and powerful statement, to see how much Lisa valued family, not just her father but her own children and their legacy, and how willing she was to speak up no matter what was going on in her personal life to say what was right. On this and many other things, Lisa and Priscilla's values have rarely been in alignment. A friend and EPE business associate, Joel Weinshanker, said of her, "Lisa couldn't be bought, she couldn't be pushed. If she felt that something wasn't in Elvis' best interest, it was never about money. And she really is the only Presley that you could say that about."

Priscilla, though, has adjusted her stories about her time with Elvis almost every time she discusses it. For a quick example, she said in her book, which was released in 1985, that Elvis insisted she do her hair and makeup a certain way, that he had control over her look and would get upset if she didn't dress how he wanted. But in an interview with Ladies' Home Journal in 1973, she said that she made a deliberate choice to attend makeup school so that she could learn how to style herself, and that it was her idea to wear big, black hair and big, black eyeliner. She said she was embarrassed for going overboard. She said, "I wish that Elvis had said something, but he must have liked it because he never commented." This lines up with recollections from Patti Parry, a platonic friend of Elvis' and a hairstylist, who said Priscilla always wanted Patti to do her hair in a "big boombah," but that Priscilla would then get upset when Elvis didn't notice or didn't like it.

These changes are impossible not to notice if you follow her for any length of time. At the film premiere, she said it felt just like watching her life and said she was consulted on everything, since she was an executive producer. After the film came out, she said she couldn't understand why Coppola had changed so much about the story and misrepresented events. In the '70s, she said she and Elvis lived almost totally separate lives, that she came and went as she pleased, and that she loved this freedom. Later, she said she felt completely stifled and trapped and never left the house, even though she had friends she went out with all the time. In 2019, she tweeted a forceful denial about a National Enquirer story: "This is the Enquirer folks... please don't believe everything you read. ... Never planned on being buried next to Elvis. What will they come up with next?" But part of her settlement demands in her lawsuit against Riley in 2023 asked "to be buried next to Elvis." This year, she said in two separate interviews that Lisa was with her when Elvis died and that Priscilla had to break the news to her, despite the fact that Lisa was at Graceland when it happened. She has said she gave Elvis the idea to wear belts on his jumpsuits, to have a lightning bolt as his logo, to sing "An American Trilogy," though none of that is true. She retells the story about forcing Elvis to burn all of his spiritual books to prove he loved her as an almost funny anecdote about debrainwashing him, while Elvis later said it was the worst thing he ever agreed to, a desperate attempt to make her happy by giving up the things he valued the most. (For the record, this is my opinion about their relationship on both sides: thinking they could change themselves and each other to make it work. It never did.)

Every secondhand Elvis account has to be treated lightly and only valued for its consistency with known facts and other witnesses. I try to give enormous benefit of the doubt to anyone in the Elvis world because they often only have partial knowledge of what Elvis may have been thinking at any given time, and there are numerous examples of people who were taken advantage of by unscrupulous journalists who changed the story they wanted to tell. But Priscilla's stories sometimes are not even consistent with her own statements, which makes them very poor options indeed to base anything on. However careful we are about noting potential biases and inaccuracies in other memoirs, we have to be triply, quadruply careful with anything in which Priscilla involves herself because she has a vested interest in generating discourse today in order to make money. Unfortunately, Priscilla has a habit of stifling other accounts or making sensationalized statements each time there is a possibility that she will lose some of the cachet that comes with being an Elvis Source—after Elvis' death, when she believed she was going to inherit his airplane and disinvited everyone that Vernon said could fly in it to his funeral; when she sued the parents of one of Elvis' ex-girlfriends after he died because he had allowed them to live rent-free in a house he bought for them; when she claimed that Elvis wanted to reunite with her before his death, despite the fact that he was engaged to someone else and told many people he couldn't see a reunion ever happening with her; before Vernon's death, when she convinced him to make her an executor of the Presley estate until Lisa came of age; after Lisa came of age, when she convinced Lisa to let her stay on as partner; when Lisa accused Priscilla of misspending Lisa's money, during which time anonymous sources cropped up to say Lisa was in debt and drug-addled; when Priscilla was removed from her position as an EPE spokesperson but kept collecting $900,000 a year from the company; when Lisa died, and Priscilla sued once she learned she wasn't in the will; when Priscilla was no longer associated with EPE and decided to do another adaptation of a book that she has since recanted parts of and has contradicted before and after its release.

When Priscilla thinks there is a threat to her image and position, she does new interviews and projects to muddy the waters and stir public interest, whether it is true or false, positive or negative, laudatory or defamatory. She gets corrected by Elvis' surviving family members, girlfriends, friends, and fans, but these stories do not get the same reach no matter how much they are backed by contemporaneous documents and witnesses, or how many resources there are to educate the public on how Elvis' and Priscilla's attitudes about marriage and relationships changed—along with the rest of society—between 1960 and 1970.

I think almost any single-source project is not going to advance our understanding of Elvis in any way because no one individual can speak for him, and we are kind of obligated to include all the context we can in order to appreciate his character, his successes and failures, flaws and virtues—and to treat both himself and those around him as fully three-dimensional people who have their own blind spots. Priscilla is far too aware of her own image, and far too willing to change it to suit the audience, to be particularly valuable here.

She is next scheduled to appear at the Lexington (Kentucky) Comic & Toy Con.

[saras-almanac]

So I know that this is technically the first season of this show where we know going in to season 8 what the storylines will be--at least in general broad strokes and I am so excited! There's literally so many different ways things can play out and I can't wait!

Bobby and Athena -- I actually feel like as a relationship we didn't see this develop much because they literally went from like a date in season 1 to making out in between fire trucks in season 2 and engaged a few episodes later so I absolutely loved the idea of Athena's fear in season 7 of "What do we have when we're not running around?" I hope that they explore that a little more in the idea of "What does our life look like if/when we're not working?" Plus Bobby not being Captain anymore is such an interesting personal story because he literally only came back to being a Captain because he felt like he had a debt to pay. But now it's up to him to really choose whether he still wants to be an active captain or not... (Obviously he won't be Captain forever and I have Thoughts on where I want these characters to go lol) But the comedy gold of him being a tech advisor on a show is hilarious and I genuinely wouldn't be upset if it lasts a long time and then the actor keeps showing up at the fire house after the fact.

I am not a huge fan of Athena's storylines because it's really hard to root for cops in general but also she has abused her power so many times with no thoughts, but maybe MAYBE this idea with reuniting with that man from her past could be a change of, hey things are not as black and white. (I still understand why they framed Athena begins the way they did, but I think it would have been a much bigger impact to have let the man go because he turned his life around and became such a positive influence. But that's just me.)

Also give them more comedy storylines! The cruise ship stuff is one of my favorite things ever with Athena trying to solve a murder but also not wanting to be left alone with Bobby while Bobby is like "I think my wife is avoiding me." Comedy gold and I loved it. Give me them moving in to a neighborhood with HOAs and ridiculous neighborly gossip that they're always investigating and spying but like the lowest stakes possible. (Like the garbage spying Bobby and Michael did that one episode, just not always leading to a secret underground plastic surgeon.) Just give them fun stuff to do. Please.

Hen and Chimney -- I absolutely that this season is set up to sort of test that relationship in a way. Because Chimney and Maddie took in Mara as the sweetest thing to do, but how do they manage this now that Mara is putting down roots. I feel like this is something that is going to lead to a lot of emotions on both sides because Chimney's not trying trying to take Mara away but I also feel like that's going to play on the fears / feelings of Hen and Karen not having security with their children. (But it will be a happy conclusion with Mara back at Henren's as a family because I will be sad if it becomes this idea of "maybe Mara is better off with Madney" just because Henren have gone through that so many times!)

Maddie and Chimney--would love to see them talking about the future of their family, are they having more kids, do they even want more kids? They've never talked about it and I think taking Mara in is the perfect excuse for them to bring it up, have those discussions that I feel like they've never been that great at having. And give them the wedding reception they deserve! Just let them be happy and in love.

Eddie... what can't the do with Eddie this season? Of all the characters, he has had the least amount of growth / development in the show. He's stagnant, unchanged, which isn't necessarily a bad thing but it's that he's been put in situations where there should have been some growth or change but it's never actually happened. I still think of Lena calling Eddie out on being a terrible friend (which is why I actually don't think he hangs out much with the rest of the firefam because he is incredibly self-centered so much and completely unaware of it.) I really want this separation with Chris to force him to deal with Shannon's death and everything that led up to that--he ran away from his responsibilities as a parent and a partner, he just moves passed anything that's difficult for him until it seemingly works out again, or just acts like nothing's wrong. I just want to see some development for him--I'd take anything at this point lol. I want him to acknowledge his flaws and failings and then work through them, because that's where the story lies--whether that's through reconnecting with his religious roots or deconstructing, or intensive grief counselling and therapy. And no romantic relationships for him this year. Part of his growth NEEDS to be that having a romantic partner is not going to "fix him" or "cure him" and apart from having sex with the women, he never seems to be happy in those relationships. Now that could be him being aromantic or just putting way too much pressure on every relationship to immediately be lived in and like his rose-colored view of his marriage to Shannon--which shockily doesn't happen because the women are not Shannon?

Buck, my boy, I am so excited for this season for him! I feel like they might be leaning into the potential of an ADHD diagnosis for him--just purely based on the slow-mo, overstimulated shot of the camera slowly zooming in on his face. And the idea of that on top of him just realizing and discovering his bisexuality could be a really interesting storyline to explore. Sort of a parallel to Buck Begins of him "not knowing what being Buck means" again but different. It's less he doesn't know who he is but he's just gotten so much new information about himself and he's struggling to place the pieces and how much that changes his perception of himself--if it does.

Add that to his new relationship with Tommy, the story that could come of that! Or literally any potential hurdle a new relationship deals with. They were both so open and vulnerable when they had that conversation but it's not a stretch to think that Buck might pull back a bit from sharing that stuff with Tommy because he's so terrified of being too much and/or being abandoned. And even if Tommy tells Buck he's not, there's a very good chance that Buck just won't be able to believe him. Or their hurdles could just be general communication issues or realizing they have different communication styles or moving in together. Or it could be the giddy excitement of being in this new, fun relationship might mean they've moved away from some of those more heavier topics. So many options!

The absolute only thing I don't want is any form of jealousy on Tommy's part that's because he's dating a bisexual. I don't see them going that route and how regressive and bi-phobic it is, but that's my least favorite thing ever in the limited bisexual representation we have and that would genuinely upset me. Totally fine if Tommy has jealousy based on his insecurities--like why would Buck be serious about him, maybe it's too soon to settle down, maybe it's just Buck is so effortlessly charming that it's sometimes hard for Tommy. All totally fine, even if I would prefer that to not be the case.

All this to say, I'm so excited and literally want to both see how this season plays out and also write every version of this!

[xxchromies]

Female loneliness

Gonna be honest, I empathize with that 22 year old dude who killed himself because he didn't have a girlfriend. The post didn't say anything about him being an incel or him blaming women for not dating him. He was just sad about it, and that probably wasn't the only reason he killed himself anyway.

I empathize with all that because in many ways I am the female version of that. I'm 23 and I've never been in a relationship or held anyone's hand or anything. Literally nothing. And I constantly post on here about how men are awful and their attraction to you means literally nothing. And all that's true. But I do still seek validation from them. I want to know that I'm lovable. I want to be attractive to men and I want one to fall in love with me. It's just such an interesting place to be in. Whenever I see radfems mock men who are simply upset about not having a girlfriend (and not being weird about it), I get a strange feeling. Because they are laughing at my situation, even though it's happening to someone else. But a lot of lonely men wouldn't extend their sympathies to me, many of them would probably think I'm lying. After all, women have it on "easy mode." But I don't live in this made-up world they've created. The situation of a lonely woman is very much like the situation of a lonely man.

Of course, I would never in a million years rape or kill men because they're not attracted to me. I don't resent them for it. If anything, I turn my sad feelings inward, I blame myself for not being good enough. But at least I don't do this as much as I used to. In high school I lost my mind over a porn-addicted dude not reciprocating my feelings. I honestly do wonder if on some level my hatred of porn comes from that. From wanting to get back at him somehow. I have reason to believe he is now a TIM, isn't it ironic? I know on some level that I'm kind of attractive and some men are attracted to me. But I never had one fall in love with me and I want to know I'm worthy of love. I've become terrified of "taking a chance" and flirting with dudes I think are hot or whatever and that makes me feel so pathetic because I KNOW men are not worth all that.

On the bright side, I know how terrible men can be, and this has made me feel better about never having had a boyfriend. I've never come anywhere near being suicidal over never having had a boyfriend. But it does also kind of feel like cope, if I'm being honest. It's a lot easier to condemn the idea of a relationship with a man when you've had experience with one. I don't understand men and I don't know how to get close to one in that way. I hope people can be understanding of these thoughts, I'm embarrassed by them. People are complex.

[sugurufic]

What are your thoughts on the reader and teen nanami attending an improv comedy show…

Oh this is so interesting! I am not funny, like at all, so please don't judge my terrible jokes T^T as always, its not proofread

Nanami, Haibara and you had a lot of fun planned for the weekend, but Haibara had to return home to his family. His sister had gotten a bad fever and he was worried sick about her.

So you and Nanami still went about the plans, going to the mall for some shopping and to the city center to eat, and then return to your respective dorms. The two of you hadn't hung out much without Haibara, his absence weighing you down. With Haibara it was easy to ignore how Nanami's presence made you feel, but now it was practically impossible, with him walking beside you in the mall, dressed in normie clothes.

"Hey ma'am, hey sir!" an attendant at the mall greeted you cheerfully. "We have a free of cost improv comedy session going on, would you care to join us?"

You have always loved improv comedy, watching videos on the internet, but you've never seen one in person. Besides, how bad could it get? It's not like you were wasting any money this way.

"Nanami, can we go, please?" you plead, batting your eyelashes at the blond man, who doesn't even argue.

"Thank you for joining us!" the attendant yells behind you.

"I really hope that it doesn't turn out to be a waste of time," Nanami says as you sit beside him. The room still has some empty seats, but it's a great news that there are people to see a new comedian.

"I don't think it will be," you say, scooting a little closer to him as the air conditioning sent a shiver under your skin.

The empty seats fill up quickly, and the lights are dimmed, waiting for the comedian to take the stage. You are unfamiliar with the man who comes on the stage, viewing his audience with a smile on his face. "Hey everyone! Thank you for being here. You really are helping me convince my parents that maybe I can pull this comedy thing off," He starts of with a jolly voice. "You know, after I wasted four years of my life on an engineering degree."

You chuckle, having heard something similar from plenty of comedians. the man looks over his audience, eyes flickering to a stop to someone on the other end of the room. "Oh, I have a young crowd with me. I really hope you don't get influenced by me. it's not my fault if your mum slaps you with a slipper for not wanting to go to college."

"How old even are you?" he asks the same person. "That young! Now I will feel guilty about making the jokes I had planned." The man shakes his head. "Anyways, you know I am not entirely upset that i did college. I now have more things to make jokes about. Anyone who did CS and now everyone is suddenly asking them to fix computers?"

A surprising number of people raise their hands, and you chuckle once again. Nanami fixes his bangs beside you, trying to hide his rolling eyes. But you know him too well to know what he's doing.

"My parents forbade from speaking to the opposite gender all throughout school. And now that I'm an engineer by degree, they want me to get married." He sighs. "You are too young to understand this. How many of you have partners?" a good number of people raised their hands. "And how many of parent's know?" most hands went down.

The comedian's eyes fall on the pair of you and he asks Nanami, "Hey, blond guy! Is that pretty lady your girlfriend?"

Your face heats up and you can barely look at Nanami, who has gone pink. "N-No," he manages to say.

"Your face tells me otherwise," the comedian laughs. "For those of you who cannot see, Mr. Blond Guy has turned red. The lady seems flustered too. You two did come together, right? Or did I just embarrass two strangers sitting next to each other."

"We go to the same school," You manage to say, despite your flustered state. "And we're friends."

"Miss, maybe you should ask blond guy. He seems very shy." the comedian chuckles.

"I don't think I'm her type," Nanami mumbles in a small voice, and you give him the biggest side eye you have ever given to anyone.

"Judging by the lady's reaction, I'd say you are wrong, buddy." the man laughs. "See people, please tell your friends I helped set up a relationship. If any of your friends need a wingman, please join me on my next shows."

When you leave the mall, you walk together in silence, not even getting the courage to look at him. But you bite down your fears and say, "What gave you the impression that you aren't my type?" You still don't look at him, but your hands are in front of you, trying to grasp the air. "Because then I'd have to fix that. You are exactly my type."

Oh no, you think. You may have spoken to much. "Please ignore what I just said if you don't like me back."

"I do," Nanami softy says, and you whip you head towards him, seeing a rare smile on his face. His cheeks are still dusted a light shade of pink and he looks so cute you could kiss him. "I never thought you could like me like that."

"OH you blind man," you sigh, intertwining your fingers when his hand reaches for yours. "Let's just do this again later, okay?"

"Okay," Nanami says, the smile not leaving his face.

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

A Cautionary Tale: Saint-14's Blunder

"Some still speak of the day, in hushed tones in the shadows corners of the tower, that Saint-14 fucked up.

The guardians know better than to speak the words too loudly for the great warlock Osiris is able to be anywhere and everywhere at once, but they have to warn the new lights of this cautionary tale.

You see Saint-14 and Osiris have faced unspeakable odds and still come back to each other with their bond stronger than ever. Their story is one of love conquering even time itself. So what could break such a perfect couple? What could bring the greatest love of the ages to a shaky edge?

It was not the hive, fallen, nor even the terrible vex. No my sweet blueberries, It was a bird.

Don't laugh, it's not a joke. Look to your elders and see their expressions little lights. Birds are no laughing matter in the tower. You have seen Saint's flock of pigeons, haven't you? Heard the tender way he calls Osiris his phoenix?

But this bird was neither of these. No, this bird was a Crow. A scrappy little Crow with a broken wing that Osiris found lost and abandoned by its flock. He was very protective of his little Crow. So protective that when Saint upset the little bird, even by accident, Osiris fell into a fit of rage even at his most trusted partner.

He yelled so loud you could hear it on the other side of the city. He snarled and hissed like a mother cat protecting her kits- honestly if you were there it was kinda sweet but you didn't hear that from me- anyway! The point was, Saint-14 was brought to his knees, pleading for forgiveness and repenting his mistake.

What? What did he do? I told you, he made Crow sad. Oh, how? Well Crow had this frankly stupid haircut and Crow overheard Saint joking about it to Geppetto. Oh, no I didn't mean an actual bird. I was being dramatic. Saint-14 and Osiris adopted the Vanguard Crow ages ago back when he was all sad and broody. Anyway, the lesson to be learned here kids, is to never insult Crow where Osiris can find out and he will find out no matter where you are. You should never-"

Osiris crossed his arms raising an eyebrow at the ghost bobbing on a plain tower shell surrounded by new lights and when one of the young hunters turned and yelped it caused the group to scatter like cats from a cucumber.

"Sagira, you can't keep doing this or none of the new lights will ever look at me without jumping." He tsked at her and she giggled as she moved to hover over his shoulder.

"Don't lie, you love watching them cower. Plus, it's funny to see how they all look at Crow after. He has no idea why he has an army of tiny guardian ducklings trailing him." She said dawning her usual shell with a flash of light now she wasn't trying to secretly spread rumors through the tower.

"At least you stopped telling them all I was in my boxers when I yelled at Saint. They really don't need to know those sort of things." He sighed as they headed toward the hanger.

"It was hilarious! You telling off Saint for making fun of Crow's terrible haircut while wearing nothing but your boxers and slippers and sleep robe! I can't believe Crow was brave enough to wake you up to make sad eyes at you over Saint mocking him. This is why he's my favorite." She chirped and Osiris rolled his eyes.

"I thought he was your favorite because he and Glint saved you from the traveler and helped you regain your memories so we could be reunited?" He hummed and she bobbed.

"You can have more than one reason for someone to be your favorite Osiris. After all, I'm sure there's many reasons I'm your favorite." She teased and Osiris frowned.

"When did I say you're my favorite? Did I not tell you of my close bond to the pooka I adopted?" He asked and grinned as she started ranting about how much better she was than some over-empathetic flying fish.

[short-honey-badger]

Peppermint Tea 18

Alright. I hope you're ready for Mihawk! Here is the next part, like promised!

BTW anything that's labeled with Lavender will be more of a Shanks pov! Thanks!

Warnings! None really? Kissing? Mihawk is a jelly boy.

Masterlist

Mihawk arrives at your island three weeks after Shanks has departed. He notices something off the moment he comes within sight of the white sands, observational haki sending shivers down his spine. An awful feeling curdles his stomach, and Dracule curses how slowly his ship reaches the shores of his home.

The warlord flashes to the island, leaving behind the books that he had brought along for your overstuffed bookshelves. Mihawk picks up his pace, arriving at your door far quicker than usual, and barges inside. He stalks through the house, frowning when he does not find you anywhere inside. What he does find however, is an ornate ceramic sake bottle in the shape of a gourd, that Dracule knows he did not gift to you, and it was in far too good of condition for you to have found it on the shore. The bad feeling in his stomach grows to the point that he feels sick, something that he has never felt before.

Mihawk stalks out the backdoor, shoulders slumping in relief when he spies you sitting at the cliffside in the back.

You turn around at his approach, the devil cat glaring at him and hopping off his human’s lap to strut past Mihawk and back inside the house to hide away. Hank greets him like usual, and Mihawk gladly slides his hands into the shaggy grey hair to ground himself. There is tension in the air, and he knows that you are about to say something he isn’t going to like before you can even open your mouth.

“Welcome home, Dracule,” You greet him and go to stand, but your warlord motions you to stay there. He comes and sits beside you on the cliff, thigh pressed against yours, and you easily lean into him, pressing a kiss to his bare chest, “How was your trip?”

Dracule hates all this lead up, but he has missed you terribly and curls his arms around your waist, and buries his face in your hair.

“Uneventful. Too long,” he grumbles quietly, and you snicker and reach up to pet his hair. Mihawk shifts enough that he can turn and bring you in for a sweet kiss. He takes his time, lips a gentle press against your own until he pulls away to kiss your brow, lingering there as you relax against his chest. Mihawk wonders if you can heart how loudly his heart is beating.

“I had visitors while you were away,” You begin and Dracule feels like his heart is about to explode out of his chest, nerves eating at him in a way he's not experienced before, and he does not like it. Mihawk can't help the way his grip around you tightens, teeth clenched when he speaks next.

“I know. I could tell before I even made landfall.”

You nod, not minding the way he tightens his hold. You can tell that your admission has upset him because you know how careful the other man has been to keep you safe.

“It was one of the men you told me to be careful about. Red-Haired Shanks,” You finish, and your words are the final nail in the coffin. Mihawk sees nothing but red, furious that the bastard has found the one soft, good thing that Mihawk wanted to keep all to himself. Especially Shanks, the man was a womanizer through and through, and he hated the thought of you spending any time around him. You are speaking before Dracule can get a word in, and he forces himself to listen to your stuttered words.

“Shanks asked if he and his crew could stay on the island for a few days. I said yes, even though I was terrified, but you and Perona are always pushing me to try new things, so I thought that you wouldn't be that upset, but obviously that isn't true. And I'm really sorry, Mihawk,” you are rambling, but you can't help it. You've pulled away to look him in the face, wincing when you see the downturn of his lips and the fierce scowl between his eyes.

“They were all really nice, and he and his crew had so many interesting stories! I promise I didn't drink, I didn't feel comfortable with it because you weren't there, but they were funny and Shanks seemed so kind, so I told them that I wouldn't mind if they came back around.”

Mihawk goes through a lot of different emotions as he listens to you gush to him. It infuriates him that Shanks had wiggled his way so quickly into your good graces, but he felt pride in knowing that He, Dracule, was the first person you thought of when Shanks had shown up. However, he can't help but feel hurt at the knowledge that you invited the redhead back to your island. This was his home, and you knew that.

“I don't like the thought of that beach bum being here when I'm not around. I don't like that he stayed for a week and you didn't phone me at all. Shanks is nothing but a womanizing menace who plans to take you away from me,” Dracule snarls lowly and extracts himself from your grip. He needs to move before he does something he regrets, “I hate the thought of him even looking at you, _.”

Guilt crushes him when he catches sight of the hurt look on his own face when he turns to pace the cliff. He can't be angry at you, not when Dracule knows how kind and humble you are. There wasn't a deceptive bone in your body, and you were a terrible liar. He shouldn't be surprised that you allowed Shanks to stay so long.

Take you away? There was no one in this whole world that would be able to take you away from this gloomy, handsome man.

“I- I'm sorry, Mihawk. I just get so lonely when you and Perona don't come around, and it was so nice to have someone to talk to. It was exciting to have so many people around,” you say, throat thick with emotion and unshed tears. You hated this. Hated that Dracule was so upset that he couldn't even touch you right now.

“I tried to tell Shanks that I didn't think it would be a good idea to be friends with him, but he said that you wouldn't get too upset, and I believed him because he's known you so much longer than I have. I shouldn't have taken his word,” You are crying now, snow gathering around your sitting form and piling up around your legs.

“No you shouldn't have,” Mihawk snaps at you, and you flinch away from his anger. He deflates as soon as he sees the pile of snow that has gathered around you. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose and then goes to your side, sitting back beside his angel and pulling her close despite the snow.

“I am not angry with you, Dear one,” Dracule begins and takes both of your hands in his own, “But you make me a jealous man, and Shanks doesn't know how to quit.”

He kisses your knuckles, rubbing your hands together between his own to warm up your freezing flesh, “I do not trust him, but I do trust you, and I can't be upset with you for seeking out companionship from someone other than myself and Perona.”

You slump forward, relief coursing through you when Dracule takes your hands, happy that he is finally touching you, “You and Perona have spoiled me with attention. I shouldn't need any more than that.”

Mihawk swears silently to himself and gathers you close, “No, _,” He grasps you by the jaw, turning you up so that he can catch your eyes with his own gaze, “You deserve so much more than what we can give you. If you want the redhead to come back around, I'm not going to stop you from making friends with him. I just don't like it.”

He licks his lips when a thought comes to mind. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for Shanks to have found you. Mihawk would bet his hat that the redhead figured out your past the moment you mentioned your name, Shanks had always been knowledgeable about what goes on in the world after all. Having Shanks in your corner if something were to ever happen would be a boon, not that Dracule wants anything to occur, of course. He'd much rather the redhead just stay away from his Angel, but he knows that he isn’t that lucky.

“If it makes you feel any better, Shanks and his crew swore not to tell anyone about this place. Told me that treasures needed to stay hidden,” You inform him, and while it lessens his worries a little, Dracule doesn't trust the drunk not to slip up, and he really dislikes the thought that Shanks called you his treasure. That term belonged to him.

“Promise to call me next time he shows up. I don't care what time it is,”Mihawk orders softly and then leans in to capture your lips, “I want to know when that bastard comes around.”

You can help but giggle at his miffed tone. Shanks had mentioned that Mihawk could be possessive, but seeing it in action was something else. You hadn't expected such a calm, cool, and collected man to get so upset. You yelp when Dracule pinches your side and finds the man glaring at you for poking fun at him.

You grin, and the tension in the air melts away, “I promise to call you. I should have when he showed up, I didn't think about it.”

Dracule hums and kisses your brow, “Just do it next time, Dear one.”

He pulls you close again, tucking you against his chest, and you snuggle into the possessive hold he has on you. This definitely wasn't the outcome that you had foreseen, but you weren't about to complain. Not when Dracule has reluctantly given you his blessing to stay friends with Shanks. Though you weren't naive enough to know that you weren't out of hot water yet.

@writingmysanity @djbumblebee @goth-mami-writer @myradiaz @fluffybunnyu @bookandstar @foggyturtleknightangel @browneyedhufflepuff @anastasiyax

[foreverrandomwritings]

HAPPY PRIDE M 🌈

I am humbly requesting the gayest headcannon you can come up with about natasha realizing the new girl at the avengers compound isn’t shy around her bc she’s an assassin but bc she’s got a huge crush on her

thank you I adore you mwah ♥️

Summary: Natasha is super fucking oblivious when it comes to the new girl at the compound having a massive crush on her.

Pairing: Natasha "Black Widow" Romanoff x New Girl!Reader

Warnings: mild angst kinda, guns, murder, knife, swearing, uhm that's it?

Word count: 740

Masterlist M's PMC Masterlist

~Firstly I am super fucking excited to write this. 

~Secondly I adore you as well Darling <3.

~Alrighty let's get going.

~The new girl is the girl behind the computer for the avengers.

~She’s the one back at the compound doing all the logistics, diagnostics and evacuations. 

~Basically coordinates everything for them. 

~She works for all of the avengers when they go on missions. 

~Solo or group ones.

~She gets along well with all of them and has become really fast friends with Thor when he comes to midgard. 

~Also super close to Sam because they have the same sense of humor.

~But for some reason every time she's around Natasha she clams up and blubbers about. 

~She has tripped over chairs, walked into walls and almost sliced a finger off while making something because she had suddenly noticed Natasha hanging around. 

~Sometimes she will completely stop talking mid sentence and get up and go to her room whenever Natasha enters the room.

~Natasha came to the hasty conclusion that the new girl was terrified of her. 

~Which made sense, she did have the most blood on her hands.

~For some reason though it upset her.

~She didn’t normally care what other people thought of her but the new girl was different. 

~She had become completely infatuated by her since the first time she saw her. 

~So as the weeks turned into months she figured she would avoid her to save her from the fear.

~Little did she know how much this upset the new girl.

~She figured Natasha had enough of her clumsy awkardness.

~The new girl confided in Sam about her worries.

~He boldly decided to confront the red headed assassin. 

~Because “ain’t no way someone was gonna hurt his new found bestie for the restie.”

~He cornered the woman at the firing range.

~Which yes was kinda stupid on his part but he’s kind of a dumbass.

~She gave him a confused look as he sauntered up to her with a scowl on his face.

~ “What the fuck is your problem with NG?” He asked her, pointing a finger at her.

~ “I’m not the one with a problem, she's the one scared of me.” Natasha told him as she smacked his hand away.

~The look on Sam’s face had her pausing in her cleaning of the gun in her hand. 

~ “What is that look for?” she asked him hesitantly. 

~He bent over laughing at her question.

~She rolled her eyes and went to move past him, deciding to leave the gun for another time.

~But Sam stopped with a hand on her arm.

~ “For a trained assassin that is supposed to be so skilled at observing people you sure are terrible. She is head over heels for you Nat.” he told her as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

~She stared at him for a long moment before everything started clicking into place.

~The pride flag pin on NG’s backpack.

~The girls love girls shirt she had seen the new girl in on many early mornings in the kitchen.  

~The constant girl in red coming from her room as she screamed the lyrics dancing around with a hairbrush in hand.

~She thought back to all the times a blush had bloomed across the girl's face when Nat tried to talk to her.

~The way she squirmed in her seat as Nat came back from training with Steve and had been covered head to toe in sweat. 

~The new girl did have a crush on her.

~Nat didn’t know how she’d been so stupid and oblivious to the fact. 

~It had been right in front of her face for months now. 

~ “She’s in her office.” Sam told her as he saw everything click into place in the redhead's eyes. 

~She nodded her head swiftly and was heading towards the girl’s office. 

~The new girl jumped as Nat shoved her office door open.

~ “Uh… Can I help you with anything Agent Romanoff?” she asked her nervously. 

~Nat then proceeded to jump forward and land a kiss onto her lips. 

~New girl sank into the kiss and when they pulled away she stared open mouthed at the woman standing in front of her.

~ “Let’s go on a date tonight.” Natasha nicely ordered her.

~ “Yeah…. That-Uh. That sounds good.” New girl said and then Natasha was leaving the room with a shit eating grin on her face.

A/N: I love writing gay shit. I also still have 4 days of headcanons left so if anyone wants to request anything feel free to send something in. My character list is in my pinned post on my blog.

Tags(open): @wkndwlff @sylviebell @theeleggymeggy