#i love this place and this community so much
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mylittleponyoh · 2 days ago
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Desk Mess CC Kit by MylittleponyOh
Hi Simmers !
Today is the big day ! The REVEAAAAL of my secret project. Because yes I've been working days on this 15 objects kit !
A little lore about the Desk Mess CC Kit : Maybe you know it, maybe you don't I AM FRENCH. And I play The Sims since... I am 11 or 12 yo. When I discovered the great world of custom contents, I was awestruck. So, I started downloading a loooooot of them. Never thinking one day I would make my own. Then in Covid 2020 I tried Blender. And a new world opened to me. It was hard. But I am very stubborn. I failed a lot. But I kept trying. So the first time I successfully added MY OWN CC into MY GAME and it worked I thought, OK THIS IS IT. I WANT TO LEARN MORE. You are going to ask yourself, why is she telling this. Why being French has something to do with this CC Kit, and I'll tell you why. As a Sims 4 addict, I watch a lot of content about Sims 4. And I have a favorite French Youtuber I follow since 2019 @kapands ! I loved her content so much, I followed her on Twitch. And I loved even more the community there. I was so happy to add my contribution to the 2024 secret Advent Calendar the community is gifting her. Following her all these years, I knew custom content was taking a great place in her way of playing The Sims 4. So I challenged myself (really afraid to fail) to create a CC Kit centred around one of her character : Bella. (2nd gen of the Into The Forest Challenge).
🔗Kapands Into The Forest Legacy Challenge 1st Episode
I wanted to thank Kapands, because she has created this awesome community I am proud to be a part of. Because she is kind and real. Because she adresses important subjects of life into her game. And also because she works so freaking much !!!!
What you need to know before downloading :
The following objects are Base Game Compatible
Bella's Comfy Chair, Bella's Desk, Bella's Rug, Bella's Cable Management Plugs 1/2/3, Bella's Cable Management Power Strip, Bella's Sticky Notes Block, Bella's Wall Planner, Bella's Wall Notes, Bella's Mug, Bella's PeachPad, Bella's Mini Maple Tree.
The following objects Request a specific EP
Bella's Diary (Parenthood), Bella's Pen Pot (Backyard Stuff)
T.O.U
Recolors are allowed, but do not include my mesh.
All recolors must include credit and link to my original mesh.
Do not reupload and claim as your own (i'll know it).
Do not reupload behind any paywall.
Download here (pick & choose)
Download here (the all collection in one click)
Join me on Patreon ( it's free !)
Click here to check out all my previous custom content !
✨ If you have any trouble with any of my cc, please reach out to me !
✨ Special thanks @syboubou for the help with the Bella Mug and helping the modders in general ! You are wonderful !
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kekewrites · 2 days ago
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tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues
Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.
It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.
Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.
That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.
***
You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.
He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.
It's not a bad thing.
But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.
"Come on... Don't look at me like that."
He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.
Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.
"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.
Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.
He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.
"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.
Thump, thump, thump.
Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.
He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.
"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."
You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.
"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"
He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.
Were you trying to say welcome back?
His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.
"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."
You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.
"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"
Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.
Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...
It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.
"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.
Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.
His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.
"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"
You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.
He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."
When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."
Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.
His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."
It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.
"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.
You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.
Oh.
It's starting again hm?
Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.
***
The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.
"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"
Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.
"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.
His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.
"Come for me," he demands.
And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.
But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.
He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.
"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.
He'll do anything for his girl.
Anything.
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icanseethefuture333 · 3 days ago
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18+ PAC: Who wants to slide down your chimney? 🎅🏼🍪🥛
A very nonsense Christmas collab with @icyg4l ❤️🎄🎁 happy holidays everyone!
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Pile 1:
Shufflemancy -
In & Out by Red Velvet
Stay The Night by The Internet
Sex With Me by Rihanna
Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Cups, The Empress, Sing, Drink Tea, Soulmate, & Fun Times
Howdy, pile 1 🤠! It’s giving: “I’m working late ‘cus I’m a singer~🎤” there’s something about needing to warm up your throat 👀☕️? Oh my 🤭 this person really wants to hear your voice. Maybe you and this person meet during karaoke. I’m getting that they are also very vocal in the bedroom and wants to voice their needs and wants. I’m getting a “wife pleaser” so something about being in a tank top and boxers or pajamas. This person loves seeing you dress casually or being comfortable. They also adore your bare face or admire how your face looks with no makeup. Your sp could be considered grounded and attentive, they are in tuned with their emotions. They could know how to please the opposite sex and are in touch with their feminine side (especially if it’s someone with masculine energy). I’m seeing that they want to rub you through your panties/briefs 🫠, pushing it to the side as they rub your knit🧶/play with your snowballs ☃️. If you came, they would lick and/or suck their fingers. Admiring your taste and smell. They really enjoy having fun with you, pile 1! Perhaps this is a coworker or someone you’ll meet in a bar. They are charming and have a suave way about how they carry themselves. Confident but not cocky. This person will want to buy you a drink or offer to take you out on a date. I’m even seeing you having a little too much eggnog. You guys might even have public sex or have sex in the bathroom?! 😅 yeah y’all are definitely going on Santa’s naughty list😈
Pile 2:
Shufflemancy -
Lay You Down by Jimmy Brown
we fell in love in october by girl in red
HOT TO GO! by Chappell Roan
Knight of Wands, The Emperor, Queen of Pentacles, Burning Bowl Ritual, Massage, True Love, & Friendship
Cheers, pile 2 🥂! You may have felt drawn to pile 1 as well, I recommend that you read both! Anyways, I’m seeing romance and lust blossoming possibly between the same sex. You could be a part of the LGBTQ community or perhaps you are friends with people who are queer. You seem to be open minded and eager to try new experiences. I believe that you are someone who is level headed and capable of taking care of themselves. Responsible but also down to party. Your friends greatly appreciate you! I’m seeing you meeting this person at a club or a crowded holiday party. For some of you this will be a dinner party. This person will be eyeing you from across the room and will come over to speak you, you might feel nervous around this person because there is a mutual attraction that you don’t experience too often. You guys will spend the entire night talking and one or the other will invite them back to their place. “Chestnuts roasting by an open fire~” 🪵🔥. You and this person could have sex on the couch or by the fireplace. You will take charge of them and ride on top. The sex could be slow but get progressively harder and faster 🥵. I feel that you needed this more than this person does lol but they will love being at your mercy. Perhaps it’s been a long time since you had sex or a good orgasm, this person will provide just that. I’m seeing you roaming your hands over their body and massaging, grabbing, or groping at their flesh. This person will have a firm grip on your hips and would graze their fingers over your thighs. I believe for some of you this is a friend or an acquaintance, which could develop into something more overtime but for now will be a friends with benefits situation.
Pile 3:
Shufflemancy -
Sin City by Chrishan
Gentleman by KISS OF LIFE
Q U E V A S H A C E R H O Y? by Omar Courtz, De La Rose
Nine of Cups, Ace of Swords, The High Priestess, Chanting, Flow Like Water, Gifts, & Union
Have a ho ho ho-lly jolly Christmas, pile 3 👠! I have a strong feeling you might hook up with a fratboy or sorority girl. If they aren’t in a frat/sorority, then something about this person just gives that vibe. They could be pretty popular and attractive, so they are used to getting what they want. You might not care about this person at all but know you could gain something from them by hanging out with them. You could also just see them as hot but maybe lack total trust in them. They might come off as a typical “fuckboy/girl” to you, so you’re not entirely giving your heart to them, just wanting to enjoy the sleigh ride 🦌🛷 . Something about food play as well? Strawberries, whip creams, or popsicles. They really like your lips so lots of passionate kissing or they want to receive head from you. They can be pretty cocky in the bedroom and once you guys start undressing your clothes, they will immediately smile once they see your body. You could be a brat and this person is a brat tamer. You will brush them off when they tease you and be like “whatever your dick isn’t even that big🙄”. You could also wear cute lingerie or your sp will want to keep it for themselves as a souvenir 😋. I feel like the sex would be raw or there won’t be any condoms (crazy work💀) or someone is on birth control at least. This person really likes your ass so I’m getting spankings and 🥛🥧. I feel like it would be so loooooud omg 😭 this person will have you chanting their name or I’m getting lots of “ooo yes!” and moaning. Some of you in this pile speak a foreign language, Spanish specifically - “si papi”. “I said the neighbors know my name they way you screamin scratchin yellin” Rip to your neighbors smh🫠
Pile 4:
Shufflemancy -
The Body by Wale ft. Jeremiah
A Seat by Arin Ray
2 hands by Tate McRae
Queen of Swords, Ten of Cups, Justice, Dance, Movement, Mature, & Children
Seasons greetings, pile 4 🌠! This person wants to be “Body to body, cheek to cheek🎶” they want your bodies dancing together between the sheets. Your sp appreciates closeness and wishes to be physically intimate. With this person, they are logical, decisive, and upfront. They value family and honor trust. They could be older than you or have a more traditional perspective on love. For some of you, someone has gray hairs developing (either you or them)🎅🏼. They might have children already as well. Perhaps they are divorced or have had children with former partners? It could also mean your sp is well established in their career and is wishing to settle. If you are already in a relationship with this person, then they could want to make love and have a baby over the holidays 🤰🫃. I’m seeing it would be just you guys alone for Christmas, enjoying a nice glass of wine or champagne. You and your person could be listening to music and will dance to slow jams and then it will progress into something more. Kissing and tearing each other’s clothes off as you stumble towards to the bedroom. “I saw Santa kissing mommy”!? If some of you have children and this isn’t their parent, I suggest you make sure your kids are asleep before kissing this person, they might snoop and be nosy 🤣. I’m seeing you mostly laying on your back or stomach during the act, switching positions from missionary to downward dog. This person wants to fuck with intention✨, by going deep and slow. Their goal is to make sure you climax and get to feel the pleasure you always give them. They are big on giving and receiving. I see this person even running a bath with rose petals or giving you massage afterwards, providing you with aftercare. What a heartwarming moment 💕
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yandereforme · 13 hours ago
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Part 5: Damian pt 1
TW:Mentions of violence,
Damian definitely comes into a very different family dynamic. Bruce has been strong armed into being better at communicating, all of the kids care about each other, and the big one? They all have a mom they are protective of.
However, Talia does pay attention enough to know what’s going on (let me know if you want me to make a minific about Talia meeting Batmom). So when she sends Damian in, she warns him to view Batmom as an ally, an important ally who is essential to being Batman, despite not being involved in the night life.
I will post a poll later if Batmom should know or not, but no matter what, the batfamily doesn’t think she knows, which means Damian’s quest for Robin is kept from prying eyes.
However, Damian still has distaste for the woman he views as taking his mother’s place, right up until your first meeting.
You are invited over for dinner, and when you walk in to see a boy threatening Tim and the boys not doing anything? Especially Bruce? You lose it.
Damian is more impressed by how you glare his father into submission, and then take him aside to ask his view. I don’t think he will mention Robin, but he definitely says something about taking Tim’s place, which is something you won’t let fly.
However, you work with kids and you’ve seen enough children like him to know what to do. So instead of trying to convince him that he will be cared for without replacing Tim, you instead tell him that replacing Tim would not do him any good, as each member of the family has to carve out their own place.
You don’t go the emotional attachment route, instead making it seem like a test. He has to prove he can fit as both a public member of the Wayne clan and as a private member of the family. You also make sure to bring up the fact that Bruce is very protective of his people, so attacking one of his people will only mess with his place in the family.
That is not to say that Damian’s arrival doesn’t add a level of tension to the family. Whether you realize it or not, you and Bruce are starting to have feelings for each other. Damian’s arrival means that you have to confront the fact of Bruce’s history. Adding the fact that Damian is ten, which means he would’ve been conceived only a year before Jason was adopted, AKA after you entered the picture? That adds a lot of feelings
(I know Damian was basically a test tube baby, but the Batfamily would not think to tell you that, so angst.)
It doesn’t help that you have only just started realizing how much you like Bruce. In your defense, you always knew you had a crush on him, but you didn’t realize it was actual love until after Damian entered the picture. And on Bruce’s side, he already knows he’s in love with you, but he has not communicated it at all.
So emotions are very messy, which make team make Batmom our official mom, a.k.a. all of the kids, have a harder job than usual. Dick ends up recruiting Damian early on, and while he’s less than thrilled in the beginning, he slowly starts getting more into it. (it has nothing to do with your kindness and hugs and calm explanations that are never even slightly condescending. He just finds you useful in his endeavors.)
However, a small complication comes into play, your ex.
You and your ex broke up a few months before Dick was enrolled in your school. The main reason behind your breakup was him needing to move for his job, and you not wanting to move, which culminated into a major fight where he did something unforgivable: He slapped you.
You immediately left him and blocked him, having mutual friends drop his stuff off at his hotel so you could get away with not seeing him. You refused to talk to him, even when he tried to get into your house. It made you thankful he left.
However, him coming back to Gotham made an already tense situation worse. You refused to go to Bruce when things were already awkward, so you just suffered in silence, avoiding your ex as much as you could.
That was until your ex showed up at your school. Luckily, security escorted him off campus after he started yelling. Unluckily, this led to Damian learning about your ex and with the combined pressure between him and Alfred, you moved into the mansion and had to tell everyone else in the family about things.(The only reason they didn’t kill your ex is because he went missing(and you would’ve noticed him dying.))
However, the reason your ex went missing? He was stupid and angry enough to mention you and your job to some exfriends who now worked for the Joker.
Now, the Joker had never quite liked you after your stunt, but you added an excitement to life in Gotham.
However, a man offering your location and usual haunts was offering you on a silver platter…. That was something he wasn’t going to ignore.
Yan! Batfam x Teacher! Batmom
All platonic besides Bruce
First off, you were Dick’s teacher at Gotham Academy, and the most sympathetic to him. You knew how hard the transition was, especially since he had learned on his feet most of his life, so you decided to have most of your classes on their feet at some point, and offered him help with homework
Dick absolutely adored you. He was suspicious at first, but after a little while he grew way more comfortable. The change from the circus way of life to living in a city permanently and having to go to school was astronomical. You were the only teacher who seemed to realize that and try to help him. You threw a ball around for the class to answer things, played games to help people learn, and comforted/defended him when people looked down on him for his background.
People learned very quickly not to complain about you or your class, otherwise they would have to deal with ‘pranks’ like being doxxed, having their things ending up in trees, and their parents deals falling through.
On the first parent teacher night, Dick dragged Bruce over to you. Bruce had already heard of you from Dick and done his own surface level research on you.
The minute this man met you, he understood why Dick loved you so much. You just gave this aura of light and comfort that no one else could ever measure. You were kind and understanding and sweet.
(Note, Bruce isn’t completely yandere yet. He is starting to be, but I like slow burn. Dick is 100% yandere though.)
Dick threw a major tantrum when he learned he would have to leave your class. He was aggressive and started purposefully failing your class. It got to the point where you called a meeting between you and Bruce and Dick where you talked about everything.
You met with them at the manor, and after a few minutes, you managed to get it out of Dick why he was upset. You quietly told Dick that while you would miss him too, you would be very upset if he stayed back for him.
However, Bruce and Alfred managed a solution. With a few bribes to the school, they started a theatre club that you would run(they did research and knew you liked theatre) and that Dick would be your assistant, and he would still have the option after he graduated.
Everything was back to normal for you, besides the fact that all of your dates never lasted anymore. You couldn’t figure out why?
Then, Jason Todd was enrolled in your class
I hope you guys like this! This is my series for Romantic Yan! Bruce x Reader.
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imsiriuslyreading · 21 hours ago
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being a POC in the Marauders/HP fandom is really interesting to me because it seems and feels like a really predominantly white space, which, hey, nothing new! and that does come with some challenges. for the most part, they're fairly under the radar.
it's things like being able to count the POC in a discord server on one hand, even though there's 100+ people in the community.
it's people not taking into account racial dynamics whether that be in a fic, or in a tiktok, tumblr, whatever. there are innate power imbalances in our society (regardless of what country you live in) and to assume because this fandom is a largely open, liberal and leftist space, that they don't carry over to fandom, is exceptionally naive. buuuuut, we live and learn, so people can and should be given a certain amount of grace. but what is unforgivable is to have them pointed out to you and for you to dismiss, ignore or belittle them. Not only that, but you as a white person, do not get to be the forgiving voice to another white person when they make one of these mistakes. please please please respect and understand that.
there's also (and i'm sorry if this is controversial and frankly it makes me really nervous to even write this), a trend of assigning ethnicities, cultures and races to characters in stories without having a proper understanding of them, or having a particular reason for doing so. I'm never going to sit here and say "you as a white person shouldn't write about ____ race!", because I don't believe that. but what I would really, really love to see, is for white creators and writers to ask themselves some questions beforehand:
what does the race of this character add to the story outside of me chasing clout with a particular group of people/is it necessary for me to be writing the lived experience of a culture/ethnicity I've never taken the time to learn about?
if so, why?
am i the right person to be doing this?
are my actions outside of my writing towards these POC reflective of this?
i also think it's really important to remember that unconscious bias is a thing, and it's really easy for us to spot in your writing if it isn't something you've addressed. Not only that, but even if you write the most well-researched POC in your fic, even if you're sharing posts about Lebanon and Palestine, none of that matters if your actions when interacting with us show us that you are indifferent to the power dynamics at play with you being a white person, often with a large audience, in this space. virtue signalling is spectacularly unhelpful if you're writing checks your ass can't cash.
that being said, I think throwing 'racist' around as a term at people who make mistakes is really unhelpful. because every situation has context and nuance, and dogpiling never helps anybody. there are opportunities for learning, developing and understanding here. but please remember, if a POC tells you something is upsetting, harmful or offensive - even if other POC haven't said that to you - it's not your place as a white person to dismiss that.
anyway, hope that helps, love u very much xo
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carto0ncritter · 3 days ago
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One thing I noticed in this shitshow of an episode is how fucking ungrateful Stolas was for everything Blitzø did for him since he came to his place.
Him being a spoiled rich white asshole:
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I hate his facial expressions so much, you have no idea
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I can guarantee you care about these 'nice things' more than you care about your daughter btw
Oh, we also have, let's see here...
*insert the entire montage of Blitzø (Stolas' victim) trying to cheer his abuser up since he's now in love with him thanks to good ol' Stockholm Syndrome*
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Seeing that cigarette reminds me of when Stolas uh... *checks notes* called Blitz an 'itty bitty imp (racist)' despite him clearly hating it, grabbed his cheek and used his horn to put out his cigarette (not to mention Blitzø's severe trauma being related to fucking fire)
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Okay so anyway, I think Stolas said "Oh, when have you ever asked" bc Blitzø stole from him and his family 25 years ago. correct me if I'm wrong here but isn't it manipulative af to bring up smth that happened that long ago, also it's totally unrelated to the current situation. I swear it's like a grown ass man saying to another "Oh I still hate you because, uhm, remember that one time in 3rd grade when you stole my pencil..."
So... if Stolas still holds this against Blitzø, let me ask: why was he ever "in love" with him in the first place? Answer? He wasn't. Stolas only used this imp for his sexual fantasies and for him to get to experience his "fairytale romance"
P.S. Imps are a race his privileged ass has always been racist towards and he hasn't ever attempted to, uh... try to understand them better? Understand how they live? I mean if you truly cared about your "boyfriend," Stolas, you'd have put in SOME effort to change your mindset/behavior and WOULDN'T HAVE EVER SEXUALLY COERCED HIM
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He also r@p*d you blitz
And no he didn't do much, he's powerful af. Using those powers isn't rocket science heck he turned an imp to stone in s1 he can protect himself but is apparently the "bottom" in the stolitz "relationship". Also no, him leaving Octavia clearly isn't a huge deal to Stolas otherwise he'd have fought to earn her forgiveness and not just sulk like a wimpy loser. YOU ARE NOT ONLY A GROWN MAN STOLAS, BUT A FATHER. At least you were supposed to be
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So was not thinking about your daughter until you lost everything, apparently
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AGAIN WITH THIS SHIT??? WHY ARE WE TALKING ABOUT A TRANSACTION AGAIN
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Alright I'm signing off until the next season drops, if that ever happens
This episode sucked, but kudos to our girl Via who was smart enough to see through her "father's" bs 👏
ALSO HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO THE CRITICAL COMMUNITY (and to non-toxic stans too)!
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revelboo · 16 hours ago
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GODDDDD MEGATRON AND HIS "the sex cant be THAT good" IS SO... HJHJRHJEKMSGDS-- something something rumble being the walking proof that the sex, can in fact, be That Good. i got the mental image of him dunking reader in disinfectant after they get handed over to him or instead of popping them on his thigh again just... sitting them on the arm of the throne. hes not gonna be as handsy now that he knows where those hands have been.
He’s just deeply offended by all of it
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Everything Is Alright Pt 93
IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader
• “No, I’m not,” Megatron says, hand lingering on the door frame. “But you’re especially vulnerable by your own mistakes, aren’t you?” By bonding to such a weak, helpless mate. Optics narrowing as the Seeker makes to lunge at him, the little human crying out, he lifts his cannon at the same time Soundwave pointedly places a ped on one of Starscream’s wings forcing his frame to tilt that way as he hisses in pain. His old friend still playing peacekeeper then, making him want to ask why he’d bind himself to a human. Wanting to understand. Not with the Seeker staring at him with those hateful optics, though. “I won’t be allotting you or any of the others extra energon rations just so you can frag the wildlife,” he says. “And don’t leave your door open, I don’t need your depravity spreading any more than it already has.”
• Door closing behind Megatron, Soundwave moves his ped as Starscream swears at him. Kneeling as the Seeker slides free of you and rights his panels, Soundwave reaches to stroke his servos against your cheek. “You heard him threaten me. Threaten us,” Starscream growls, rising to his feet and pacing. Us? Knows the Seeker doesn’t care for him, especially now, but threatened, he’s asking for help in his own way. Including him in their little group instead of treating him like a danger to you. Gathering you to him, Soundwave watches the Seeker. Knows he’s angry at Megatron, but you’re shaken by the encounter and need to be comforted. And Starscream is too wrapped up in himself to notice.
• Trembling, you lean into Soundwave as he wraps his arms around you, making a low, rumbling crooning noise, his chin resting on top of your head. Hurting slightly as you watch Starscream pace. Because as soon as he’d been provoked, you’re pretty sure he’d forgotten all about you, so furious that his anger has become everything. And he’s still furious, wings raised as he gestures, snarling in a broken mix of English and Cybertronian. Not resisting when Soundwave gently tips your face toward him and away from Star. “You’re safe, little one. Loved,” he says, the words so soft they’re only for you. And they’re all you’d really wanted. The words you’re too scared to say to them, but need to hear. Especially after the disgust in Megatron’s voice, that revulsion making you wonder if he’s right. That this between you three is wrong.
• That hitching sound you make breaks through his fury and he turns as you curl an arm around Soundwave’s neck. Crying again. Snarling as he reaches for you and Soundwave grabs his wrist with his free hand. “I love you both so much.” And the anger just drains away, leaving him oddly empty. Venting tiredly, he drops to sit beside Soundwave when the communications officer releases him. Because you’ve never said that to him before and he’s never said it to you. Tried to show you, but saying it? It felt too vulnerable. Too real.
• “We’re all awful at this, aren’t we?” Starscream asks as Soundwave runs his servos up your spine, hearing you sniffle. Waiting for Starscream to make this right as you look at the Seeker and he stares at the ceiling, jaw working. “You know I care for you,” he mutters, raspy voice gruff. Swallowing a growl, he glares at him over the top of your head. Venting when you reach for Starscream. Wings flicking, he shifts closer and grabs your hand, the gesture more possessive than gentle, but he’s been around the Seeker enough to understand that it’s because he’s there. If you two were alone, Star would be more open with his affection rather than guarded. Because he’s right, you are all awful at this. Because he can’t trust Starscream and Starscream doesn’t trust him. One of them is going to have to change and he’s not sure the Seeker can.
Previous
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inphront · 1 day ago
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ok ok but i need to add to this, because not only do i think it’s reasonable, i think she’s one hundred percent correct.
i mean sure, it fails to touch on gideon being obviously down bad for harrow and caring for her like hell, but also, harrow’s position within the ninth house has left a HUGE impact on how they relate to each other personally, and gideon’s desire to be wanted by harrow and her desire to be wanted by the ninth writ large are deeply intertwined. gideon herself might make the case that she never did anything for those old crotchety nuns and it was all only for harrow, but y’know, she undeniably wanted their acceptance her whole life, her last words were “for the ninth,” and there’s totally a case to be made that we should take those words at face value.
harrow, like you said, is the sovereign ruler of the ninth. she is addressed repeatedly as “the ninth house” in gtn, because she speaks for the whole of the ninth and symbolically represents the entire house. she also *literally* represents the entire house cause its children all died and left marks on her soul. this means that harrow and harrow alone has the power to determine whether gideon is accepted by/belongs to the ninth house. if every single person in the whole congregation tells her she’ll never be one of them and can go fuck herself, and harrow says “no you’re one of us you’re my cavalier you can claim us as your people,” then she’s one of them and that’s that because harrow has the right to speak for and over everyone else. gideon knows she’s never going to be accepted by 95% of her community. but if harrow affirms her, that becomes irrelevant, so of course she wants harrow’s affirmation all the more.
in other words, “for the ninth” meaning “for queen and country” was just as much a factor in gideon’s actions as “for the ninth” meaning “for the love of my life.” she did exactly what would be expected of a cavalier because she was cavalier primary to the ninth and thus had a place in her community. she sacrificed for *her people* because that gave her the right to claim them as such for the first time in her life. having that kind of value was like the whole appeal of the war hero fantasy in the first place. harrow, being so used to thinking of herself as like. a Holy Vessel for the ninth house and its future, obviously picked up on gideon’s care for her and desire for her attention as the reverend daughter much more easily than any feelings about her as an individual. her understanding of gideon’s decisions is incomplete. but that doesn’t make that understanding *wrong* since the attraction to her position absolutely exists; she *is* The Arbiter Of Ninth House Acceptance and that *does* matter to gideon.
i think this angle of gideon’s relationship with harrow becomes super clear when you spend a couple seconds looking at kiriona, who gets rejected (in her head anyway) by harrow, instantly takes it as a sign that she no longer has any claim to ninth identity, takes a hard left into remaking herself into someone with no connections to the ninth, renames herself, and then places john gaius in the role of Arbiter Of What Community She Belongs To and starts doing heroic deeds in his name (and by extension, in the name of the first house). she not only considered herself to have lost harrow, but the whole community she was brought up in. she distinctly felt the loss of *their* acceptance all over again in spite of never having had it in the first place and doubled down HARD on pretending she didn’t care. gideon’s personal attachments are her sense of patriotism and vice versa. she lives in an empire, so individuals can represent places and peoples. a huge obstacle in her relationship with harrow is the fact that harrow can’t be detangled from The Ninth House Tee Em.
so yeah. fuck man. guess everything she did she did for the ninth. where’s the nearest fence i’m in pain
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Was thinking about this line because Harrow what the actual fuck are you talking about, and I realised something.
Not only does Harrow really for real not know that Gideon loves her—in the bullshit context of their lives, this is a reasonable misunderstanding for her to have.
What has Harrow known Gideon's life goals to be since they were children? Hint: There are at least two Harrow is fully aware of.
The first is to be wanted. As much as Gideon hates and wants to escape the Ninth, she also paradoxically craves their acceptance. They're the only community she's ever known. Harrow plays on that desire from the very beginning, mostly by kind of .... well, okay, by negging her about it. Ironically appealing to her sense of loyalty and duty to her house when they both know Gideon never even had that bridge to burn. That kind of thing.
Whether or not she's right, Harrow sincerely believes that acceptance to still be important to Gideon. First flower of my house, the greatest cavalier we have ever produced. You are our triumph. The best of all of us. When Harrow has only seconds left to make amends, she not only banks hard into praising Gideon, she frames it to unambiguously offer Gideon the acceptance she's always been conspicuously denied. Assuring her of her value not just as a person or as a cavalier, but as one of their house, one of their people.
The second thing Harrow knows is that Gideon wants to join the Cohort. Easy, everybody knows that. She's only been telling everyone with ears (and then some) since she was eight years old. It's the bait Harrow dangled to entice her into this mess. She wants to be a hero, to do great deeds like in the comic books. She wants to be a soldier.
Against the backdrop of all that context, Gideon's dying declaration "for the Ninth" starts to sound a hell of a lot more like "for Queen and country." Especially when you remember that Harrow is still the sovereign ruler of the Ninth. From Harrow's vantage point, Gideon could easily be playing the heroic underdog in a war movie. The soldier no one believed in until she threw herself on a grenade to save her squad. The knight errant who proved her chivalry by giving her life in service to her king.
From that perspective, Harrow's line to Ortus makes sense. She's following through on her promise of acceptance, defending Gideon's loyalty to the first Ninth face she sees. She's playing out Gideon's war hero fantasy, where Gideon's act of heroism proved them all wrong about her. In which case Ortus's response, "You are the most worthy heroes the Ninth House could muster. I truly believe that," flows very naturally as a reply. He understands what Harrow is trying to say, and affirms it.
It's not a hero's burial in the Anastasian, but it's the closest thing Harrow has the power to give her. And it's a fucking reasonable interpretation of Gideon's actions that doesn't touch on her feelings for Harrow at all. Fuck me.
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sunshinehaze1 · 3 days ago
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Unwrapped
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader (f. Marcus Acacius & Lucilla Aurelius)
Summary: You attend your friend Lucilla's annual holiday party and meet someone new.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI. Modern AU, no outbreak or battles in the colosseum, meet-cute, fingering, unprotected PiV (do better), creampie, no use of y/n
a/n: This is my Secret Santa gift for my beautiful friend @ak-vintage. Her Pedro faves are Joel, Marcus A., and Din. I hope you like it, Ash! ❤️ and that you'll forgive me for not elaborating further on the party bathroom smut 🤭 tysm to @80ssong for the beta! 🥰 and big time thanks to @pr3ttynpiink for organizing! ❤️
word count: 4,386
ao3 | ml
As you walk up the driveway, you admire the lights trailing along the edges of Marcus and Lucilla's house. They live in a large, luxurious home decked in over-the-top opulence. Roman columns frame the front porch, wrapped in garland and accented with gold bows and lighting. Glittery white lights perfectly line the edges of the house, and more are draped meticulously over the immaculately trimmed shrubs. Their house practically lights up the whole neighborhood. It's hard to imagine their electric bill; you're thankful you don't have to pay it.
You met Lucilla earlier this year while volunteering at the local food bank. You decided to volunteer to meet people after moving to the area recently. Lucilla comes from money; her father was the CEO of a local business, and she inherited a large amount of money when he passed. So she has plenty of free time to give back to those in the community who are less fortunate.
After one of your volunteer shifts, Lucilla invited you for coffee. You found her to be surprisingly down to earth. It's not typical of your experience with people who come from money and have had things handed to them. She's very grounded and wise. You quickly became friends, and she's like the big sister you never had. She has at least a decade on you, and you've often turned to her for advice as you assimilate to Austin. It's comforting to have a support system in the area.
You've been invited to her beautiful home for dinners numerous times and met her handsome husband, Marcus. He's around Lucilla's age with soft, greying curls, always perfectly coifed. His face is framed with Romanesque features and a prominent nose. Having retired a couple of years ago as a general in the Army, he still maintains a thick, sturdy physique that offers an intimidating presence. He's anything but. You've only seen him as soft, gentle, and welcoming. You've spent enough time with them that you've been able to observe their relationship quietly, and it's nothing short of "relationship goals." You hope to find a loving relationship like theirs for yourself one day.
They throw these holiday parties every year, and this is your first time attending. You're bound to have a great time based on what you've heard about past years' parties. And you look forward to meeting new people. Who knows, maybe you'll meet someone.
Lucilla and Marcus go all out. The outdoor decorations were only a precursor to what awaits you inside. It looks like a Christmas store blew up. Garland is wrapped around the staircase banister and the fireplace mantle with perfectly placed ornaments. Every door frame is adorned with mistletoe dangling over the threshold, waiting for unsuspecting guests to pass through. Santas and snowmen of varying sizes sit on tables and shelves. Silvery snowflakes decorate the walls, and you spot not one but three different Christmas trees. Each has its own theme.
The expansive kitchen island has a beautiful spread of charcuterie, wines, and liquors and a punch bowl of spiked egg nog; holiday songs, clinking glasses, and the smell of mulled cider waft through the air.
--
Joel is a good sport. He's not a fan of large gatherings. He'd much rather hang out in the backyard with a beer, catching up with his brother. Or when Sarah was still at home, a night on the couch watching a movie. Nights that would end with Sarah falling asleep halfway through the movie and Joel carrying her upstairs to bed. With his reserved nature, he tends to be a wallflower at parties and a quiet observer. This one, which his employee, Marcus, invited him to, is no different.
He's found himself in a corner, making small talk with another partygoer who, unfortunately, found out what Joel does and has since been bending his ear about house renovations. Joel spots you as you walk through the door, ignoring the man in front of him, who continues to prattle on how he can't decide which faucet to place in his half bath.
Joel finds himself gawking at you. You're a vision in your eggplant velvet wrap dress with a satin sash tied into a bow on the side of your waist. The dress hugs every curve of your body, with a skirt that falls to your mid-thigh, providing Joel a view of your shapely legs. The dress's neckline cuts into a deep v, hinting at what's underneath. You're a fucking knockout.
He observes as you juggle a wrapped gift box for the white elephant exchange and a hostess gift in your other hand. It's a lavender-scented candle. You've noticed Lucilla wears the scent often. You greet Lucilla with a hug and kiss on the cheek. Offering her a wide, glowing smile. Oh god, you're beautiful. Joel is shaken from his enamored haze when the sound of broken glass interrupts his thoughts. He must find a way to talk to you before he leaves tonight.
--
Over the last hour or so, you've had a chance to meet everyone at the party—neighbors, family friends, Marcus's old Army buddies, and their spouses. All of them were very nice, but the small talk was exhausting, so you're thankful when you hear Lucilla quiet the guests with a shout, "ALRIGHT EVERYONE TO THE LIVING ROOM! It's time for the gift exchange."
You enter the living room and look for a place to sit. Various chairs are lined up around the couches, almost all already taken. You decide to remain standing rather than scramble to find an open seat.
While Lucilla explains the rules, a basket with small pieces of folded-up paper is passed around the room, with numbers 1-30 written on each. You select yours and pass it to the man beside you; rough fingers graze your hand as you complete the handoff. He thanks you, and you turn to get a better look at the owner of the deep, gravelly voice.
You're struck by how ruggedly handsome he is. A sharp nose, plush lips, and patchy facial hair sprinkled with greys. He's wearing a crisp light blue button-up and dark jeans that hug him just right. It seems you haven't met everyone at the party yet. How did he escape your notice?
He catches you staring, "What number did ya get?"
"Um…" you look down at your paper, "29. How about you?"
"Looks like I got lucky tonight," he turns his piece of paper around to show you, "30." He winks.
Uh oh. He's handsome and charming. You're in trouble.
"Name's Joel. How do you know Marcus and Lucilla?"
You introduce yourself and tell him about your volunteer work and how you met Lucilla. "And you?"
"Marcus works for me." Your surprised reaction amuses him, and he continues. "After he retired, he was looking for part-time work to keep himself busy. I own a contracting business."
That explains his rugged appearance and calloused hands. You take in his broad shoulders and biceps, which cause the seams of his shirt to work overtime to stay together. Lucilla interrupts your thoughts, "OK, now that everyone has their number, we'll go ahead and get started!"
A woman named Simone starts things off. After selecting a gift from under the tree, she tears the wrapping paper to reveal a cat-shaped ice cube tray. The crowd erupts in laughter when she shows it around the room. It's not a very appealing gift, which likely means she'll be stuck with it. You doubt anyone will want to "steal" it from her, but at least it has practical use. 
The game continues with half the participants taking their turn. Lucilla's son, Lucius, is next. You met him briefly when Lucilla introduced you earlier. He's in town to spend the holidays with his mother. After over a decade apart, he reconnected with Lucilla a few years ago. The relationship is still in repair but moving in the right direction. You know how important it is to Lucilla to have him here.
You haven't gotten the full story from Lucilla, but you know it's a sensitive subject for her, so you've never pressed too hard. You've left the door open for her to share if and when she's ready. He and Marcus seem to have an agreeable relationship and get along fine, which you're happy to see. Stepparent and stepchild relationships can be pretty fraught. He's a handsome kid who resembles Lucilla, but you think he inherited most of his looks from his father.
Lucius takes his turn and decides to steal a gift that was already stolen, securing it himself. The game continues as the room works through the numbers. A steady din of laughter echoes through the room as the exchange becomes more cutthroat. It's all in good fun, though.
Finally, it's your turn. You walk over to the tree where two gifts remain. One is a box covered in teal wrapping paper with a gold diamond pattern and embellished with a twine ribbon. The other one is a tall, slender gift bag that is the perfect size to hold a bottle of wine. You choose the box and return to your spot next to Joel.
All eyes in the room are now on you as you unwrap the gift. Pulling the paper away, you squeal when you see it's a Funko Pop figure. You try to remain calm when you remove the rest of the paper and recognize it is The Mandalorian and Grogu.
This is a score, and you can't believe your luck. You love Star Wars, especially The Mandalorian. And it's not just because you have a crush on the actor who plays him. You love the storytelling and the world-building. This isn't something you'd buy for yourself, but you'll proudly display it in your home. With Joel as the last person left, you hope your brief interaction with him has earned you enough favor that he won't steal your gift.
However, you don't know that Joel and his daughter watch The Mandalorian over Facetime every Sunday night. It's a way for them to stay connected now that she's miles away. They're on their third rewatch, and he treasures these nights with his daughter. He eyes the Funko Pop in your hand and thinks Sarah would get a kick out of this cute figure. Even if he has no clue what a Funko is.
Joel hems and haws, trying to decide if he should go for the last gift under the tree, which he suspects is a bottle of wine. He wouldn't have much use for it as he's more of a beer guy. Or steal your gift and potentially derail any opportunity he may have had to get to know you better. After a few moments of quiet deliberation, he opts to steal.
You huff in defeat, bummed that you lost out on your gift, and hand the box over to Joel. You know it's all in good fun, and Joel had no malicious intent behind his decision. You retrieve the last gift from under the tree, confirming your suspicion of what was inside.
After the gift exchange is complete, the guests disperse throughout the house. You're looking over the wine's label when you feel an elbow nudge your bicep. Your attention turns to Joel, who has a sheepish look. "Sorry for that. My daughter and I love The Mandalorian. We watch it together every Sunday night while she's away at school," he sighs.
Now, how can you be upset about that? Of course, he had a heartwarming reason behind his decision to steal. "Oh, it's no big deal. I'm just happy he's going to a good home."
Joel chuckles. "Would you like a drink?"
You nod and follow him into the kitchen.
--
With your cup of eggnog, you settle at a threshold out of the way of party traffic. He tells you more about the contracting business he owns with his younger brother. You share more about yourself and how you moved to Austin for a job opportunity. He's incredibly handsome, and you get lost in his brown eyes. His quiet confidence and sense of humor are extremely sexy.
Joel recounts a time when his brother screwed up an order for a job. He ordered the incorrect size of lumber and set the project back a week. Joel took over placing orders after that. He shares his hunch that his brother purposefully messed up the order, so he no longer has to do it.
His retelling is endearing. Through it, you get a good sense of his love for his brother, but as with most sibling relationships, some things drive him crazy. You can relate.
A silence falls between you two for the first time since you began talking. You're not even sure how much time has passed. However, it's been long enough to cause a crick in your neck since you've had to look up at Joel this whole time. You tilt your head, rolling it back and forth to stretch it out. When you open your eyes, you're frozen as you realize where you and Joel have been standing. Your chest begins to warm at the implication of where this could lead.
Joel follows your gaze to see what's caught your attention. He gulps when he spots the leafy instigator. His palms sweat as he straightens, and you make eye contact.
The warmth in your chest has moved up your neck as Joel's eyes lock with yours. The swirl of the party moves around you two, and you feel frozen in time. At this moment, it is just you and Joel. A soft smile appears on his face. "Welp. Do you know what this means?"
You swallow, take a deep breath, and offer an inviting smile. "It can only mean one thing."
Joel leans in. You feel his hot breath as his face nears yours. This sweet, funny, handsome man is about to kiss you, and you remind yourself to breathe. His index finger lifts your chin toward him, his lips brushing over yours. It feels like hours have ticked by at this standstill when only seconds have passed. But your patience still wears thin, "Well…what are you waiting for?"
Joel laughs and finally closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a chaste kiss, aware you are not alone. You press your lips to his and let out a soft moan. The sparks you've only read about in novels start to fly, butterflies flutter around in your stomach, and you see fireworks shooting off behind your eyelids. You keep them shut out of fear that you'll wake up from a dream if you don't.
You blink back as you pull yourself away from Joel. Knocked on your ass over a kiss. If his kiss can feel like that, you can only imagine what more would feel like. And you would love to find out.
Wide-eyed, you coo, "That was a really good kiss."
Joel nods, brushing his thumb along his bottom lip. "Yeah, I wouldn't mind doing that again."
"Me either," you giggle, feeling bold, "and maybe more?"
Joel quickly grabs your hand, determination in his eyes, "Follow me."
--
There's no shortage of privacy in a house of this size. The large amount of guests allows you and Joel to sneak off unnoticed. With your hand in his, he pulls you behind him in search of a more conspicuous location. At the end of the hall, you spot an open door that leads to a beautifully appointed bathroom: marble countertops, travertine tile, and a glass-enclosed shower with a waterfall showerhead. Large mirrors with an intricately designed gold frame sit over each sink. This is just the guest bathroom?!
He whips you around to face him and pulls you in for a kiss, not chaste this time. This kiss is brimming with passion. A mix of tongues dancing around, exploring each other's mouths. Playful nibbles leave their marks on each other's lips.
Your palms flatten against his firm chest, and you grip the lapels of his shirt and yank it open. The top buttons fly across the counter's surface and bounce every which way—ping, ping, ting—until they land flat on the surface. Hiding your giggle behind your hand, you look up at Joel apologetically. "Hey! I liked this shirt!" he bemused.
You walk your fingers up his now bare sternum and pinch his chin mischievously. "Oops, my bad!"
"Oh, you're fucking trouble, aren't you?!"
"Only one way to find out," you tease.
"Oh, honey, you bet your sweet ass I will." His hands caress your waist and hips, enjoying the feel of the velvet over your soft curves. "But first, I want you to see how gorgeous you are." He kisses you before he turns you to face the mirror.
Joel stands tall behind you. His hands roam along your body when he captures your gaze. With pleading eyes, he asks, "Can I unwrap my gift now?"
You nod. He pulls down the neckline of your dress and frees your tits from the cups of your bra. You let out a small gasp. He looks at you in the mirror while he kneads them, tweaking your nipples between his thumb and index finger. He nuzzles into your neck and ascends with featherlight kisses to your earlobe, and whispers, "You're so fucking gorgeous."
With a gentle squeeze of your breasts, "gorgeous tits." His husky voice sends a shiver down your spine.
One of his hands moves down your body. His fingertips trail up the back of your bare thigh and underneath your skirt to your ass. A sly grin appears on his face when he doesn't feel any fabric impeding his exploration. You decided to wear a thong tonight to avoid panty lines with the way the fabric of the dress clings to your figure. With a firm squeeze of your bare cheek, "gorgeous ass."
You whimper at his attention and praise, overwhelmed by his adoration of your body. Both hands make their way to your neck, and he turns your face toward him, "gorgeous lips," and he devours you in a toe-curling kiss.
He hisses when your ass backs into him in response. His hardened cock straining the front of his jeans. You suck in your breath, apologetically, "I'm so sorry."
He chuckles, "It's ok, baby." He brushes his lips over your nose and tilts back with a glint in his eye, "You can make it up to me."
You quirk your eyebrow, "oh yeah, how so?"
He doesn't answer you. Silently, he grips your hips to turn you back to face the mirror. He grabs your hands and places your palms flat on the cool marble. He watches your tits bounce in the mirror and feels his cock get impossibly harder. "Stay. Just like this."
You feel the arousal pool in your belly at his command. His hands travel down the sides of your thighs and up under the skirt of your dress. His fingers slip under the elastic band of your thong, and you hear the lace fabric rip.
He slides a calloused finger through your slick lips. A growl escapes him as he feels how wet you are. "This pussy's just drenched for me, isn't she?"
You whimper out a strangled "yes." Overwhelmed by the feel of his thick fingers through your folds, teasing your entrance and brushing against your clit.
Finally, he shows mercy and slides a finger inside you. You clench around his thick digit as he enters you to his last knuckle, his fingertip reaching that spongy spot just right, sending an intense wave of pleasure through your body.
He leans forward, his whole chest pressed against your back. The heat from his body envelopes you. His husky voice vibrates in your ear, "Fucking dripping."
You groan when Joel pulls his finger out to taste you. "Such a sweet fucking pussy. I can't wait to make a whole meal out of her."
He breaches you again with two fingers, and you buck forward at the pleasurable stretch. He begins to thumb against your clit while his two fingers thrust inside you at a steady pace.
"Fuck. I can't wait to get you out of here. I want to take my time with you. The things I want to do."
"Tell…" breathless, "…me."
"I want to eat your pussy until your legs shake." he continues his exploration of your cunt. "Suck on your perfect tits. Fold you in half while I fuck into you until you scream my name."
"Yes, fuck…Joel, I want all of that." Your imagination is running wild at his ideas, the tension is building, and you're ready to snap.
"You'll get it, but I need you to come for me, darlin'." Desperation in his voice, "My cock needs to be inside this perfect pussy."
His words were all you needed to push you over the edge. You brace yourself on the counter as your orgasm moves through you, your walls fluttering around his fingers.
As you come down from your high, Joel quickly unfastens his jeans and lowers them along with his boxer briefs, releasing his throbbing cock. You feel his length bop against your ass. His fingers run through your pussy to coat his dick with your arousal. He lazily strokes his dick while bunching up the skirt of your dress over your waist with his other hand.
His palm runs over your bare ass cheek and slowly navigates your curves to your other cheek. You whimper when he pulls his palm away, already missing the warmth of his skin against yours. The unexpected strike of his palm causes you to jolt forward with a whine.
"Fuck! This is a juicy ass," he growls as his fingers dig into your flesh.
"Do it again. Harder." you pant.
You catch his devilish grin in the mirror as he lifts his arm with a flattened palm. The din of the party muffles the sound of it moving through the air before it lands on your other cheek. Harder. Just like you asked. You feel another wave of arousal rush through you.
"Oh, baby. We're going to have so much fun."
Joel takes his cock and runs the tip through your folds, You haven't seen it, but you can feel it's big as he teases your entrance with just the tip. Your mouth begins to water as you fantasize about taking him between your lips, the heavy weight of it on your tongue as you take him down your throat.
You're so distracted by the thought of choking on his dick that you yelp in surprise when his cock enters you with a forceful thrust; his pelvis slams into your luscious cheeks.
"Oh, she's fucking…" Joel pants, "she's fucking, tight."
He begins a steady pace of fucking you. His hands gripping your hips, fingertips digging in with a bruising force.
He reaches around your waist to rub your clit while he continues a relentless pace. Your walls clenching around him. Breaths increase, and your chest is slick with sweat. His thrusts push you into the counter, driving into you while he rubs your clit. The marble cooling your heated chest. "C'mon, baby. I feel you squeezing me. Let go for me."
You wail out his name as your climax takes hold. He pulls you up against his chest, his hand cupping your breast as he fucks you through your orgasm. Hot breath against your ear as he seeks his release. You wrap your hand around his neck and pull his head toward you. Your lips brush against his ear, and with a whisper, eyes fixed on him in the mirror so you can see his reaction, "Fill me up. I want to feel you dripping out of me."
Joel whimpers. He fucking, whimpers. He's at the precipice of his orgasm and grasps onto your tit tighter. You squeak at the pressure. One. Two. Three more thrusts before he spills into you, drenching your pussy with his seed.
His forehead collapses onto the back of your shoulder; his labored breathing begins to even out. When he looks up, your eyes meet his in the mirror. You both are completely fucked out. Half dressed, tits hanging out, disheveled hair, smeared lipstick. He leans back to get a good look at his spend leaking from your pussy. A boyish grin expands on his face into a toothy smile as he pushes his cum back inside with his finger. "Gotta keep my gift wrapped up."
You roll your eyes and laugh.
Joel grabs a clean washcloth from the towel bar and runs it under warm water. He gently runs the damp cloth over your inner thighs and sensitive folds, cleaning himself before tossing the washcloth in the hamper.
You notice it's after midnight, and you'll need to get home soon—even though you don't want the night to end. You both scramble to dress. Joel stops short when he realizes he can't button his shirt back up all the way. He looks around to find the loose buttons on the counter and pockets them. Softly, you brush his forearm and coo, "I can sew those back on for you."
He winks and kisses the tip of your nose. "Worth it."
--
You accept Joel's offer to walk you to your car, but not before you say your goodbyes. The two of you part to find Lucilla and Marcus to thank them for the party.
When you find Joel again, he guides you toward the door, holding his gift in one hand and the other against the small of your back. He leans toward your ear and teases, "We'll need to discuss visitation arrangements." shaking the figurine in the air.
You playfully swat his chest at his teasing.
You and Joel are unaware that Marcus and Lucilla are watching this exchange from afar. Lucilla turns to Marcus and wonders, "Now, why didn't we think to set those two up? They're perfect together."
"It doesn't look like they needed our help anyway." Marcus wraps his arm around his wife and kisses her temple. "Another successful holiday party, my lady."
Lucilla rests her head on his shoulder and lets out an exhausted but contented sigh. "Until next year, my love."
--
Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻
I've got an idea brewing to revisit these two (four)...if I get a wild hair, I may take a swing at it. 😏
npt for folks who were interested in this WIP: @baronessvonglitter @kilamonster @half-moon16 @peepawispunk
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saintsenara · 3 days ago
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why do people portray walburga and her relationship with sirius in such an exaggerated way? like torture??? i get that we don't have a lot of information about what went down, but its such an extreme choice
thank you very much for the ask, anon!
unsurprisingly, the answer to this is under the cut, because it comes with a trigger warning for discussions of physical and sexual abuse.
my interpretation of things is that it's a really interesting bleed-through into fandom of two real-world views a lot of people have:
firstly, that it's uniquely horrifying when a woman who is also a mother is cruel to children [or, indeed, when she's anything other than completely self-sacrificing and nurturing].
grimmauld place is a dozen different gothic literature tropes in a trenchcoat, and the text hammers that home with absolutely no subtlety whatsoever. it is walburga in the portrait - haunting sirius, serving as a physical manifestation of the rot of blood purity, making grimmauld place seem as much of a prison as azkaban - rather than orion because the reader wouldn't find it anywhere near as disgusting or frightening to see a man in that role, and the narrative meaning intended by the portrait therefore wouldn't come over as clearly.
[the subtext to walburga's character - that the portrait and the house are liminal spaces between life and death, a hint at the extraordinary grief she carries which will be revealed in deathly hallows - would also be interpreted very differently by the reader if they belonged to orion. walburga's grief - for both sirius and regulus - is inextricable from what the series thinks is "true" about motherhood and womanhood.]
and this - i think - is why, even though sirius does talk about the emotional abuse he experienced coming from both of his parents, the fandom is laser-focused on walburga. she's a bigger presence textually and she's a bigger presence textually entirely because she exists in defiance of deep-rooted societal opinions about how mothers should act.
[which we also see in the fandom's responses to petunia versus vernon and molly versus arthur...]
the second real-world view which bleeds through into the fandom's treatment of sirius' childhood is one which lots of people hold and which therefore has major, major repercussions for people in abusive households and relationships: the idea that abuse which isn't physically extreme [or, in the case of children, but much less often adults, sexual] isn't "as bad" as abuse which is.
and part of this is that the social norms we live by treat extreme physical abuse [and child sexual abuse] as objectively wrong, but treat abuse which doesn't meet this threshold of extremity much more subjectively.
a parent who beats their child so badly that they almost die will inspire outrage from all quarters. a parent who hits their child with a belt once across the backs of the legs as punishment for misbehaviour, but claims this is a form of reasonable physical discipline which doesn't cause their child any lasting harm, will find plenty of people willing to defend them as well as plenty of people willing to condemn.
and - of course - societal prejudices connected to things like gender, race, class, and so on play a big part in these splitting of opinions. a man who rapes his five-year-old child will be - in public, at least - unambiguously regarded as a criminal by everyone in a community. a man who rapes his female partner will find plenty of people willing to argue that it's her duty to provide him with sex and he was merely requiring her to fulfil that duty. a man who rapes his male partner will find plenty of people willing to say that gay men are all hypersexual and the victim loved it.
this subjectivity of response is also one of the reasons why emotional abuse, financial abuse, coercive control, stalking, and other forms of non-physical abuse still aren't taken as seriously as they should be. there's a widespread perception - and not just among police - that they're not dangerous in and of themselves.
from the fandom perspective, then, it seems to me that the writing of abusive situations often focuses on extreme physical violence as a way of authors offering "proof" to their readers that they take the fact that the character was abused seriously.
there is a worry - i think - in many authors' minds that if they wrote walburga never laying a hand on sirius, they would be accused of claiming his childhood was normal, his experience was fine, his parents' treatment of him was justified, or that he shouldn't be thought of as someone who was abused.
but - of course - something it's crucial for us to do in real life is be alert to just how complex and individual abuse is, and how poor our pre-conceived notions about what it is and what it isn't tend to be. i think the same is true in fandom, and it's why i think portrayals of non-physical abuse which take that abuse as bad enough are so important.
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on-a-lucky-tide · 2 days ago
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Your ask made me remember the request I was going to send it to you but forgot
hard to pick one to ask out of my drafts (very tempted to ask a PriceGhost omegaverse thought) BUT I decided to go with this cliché ask:
During a mission it snowed in, trapping Price and Nikolai in the safehouse, maybe one of them is experiencing hypothermia and needed to be warm up...in one way or another ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) you can decide if they go 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 or not!! I'll eat up anything you write either way
love yo stuff, stay hydrated! also manifesting max grains and zero pain for ya gym days 💪
Nik has to save Price from hypothermia, but with their bodies pressed so close, they can't resist each other.
cw: omegaverse, alpha Nik, omega Price, dubious consent in the sense Price is embarrassed by his body's reaction, clearly has some trauma, and it's kinda a stressful situation, and Nik gentles him? But they're into each other. Uncertain/open ending as Price clearly has a lot to work through. Sorry, Gomz, this got a whole 7k away from me...
The snow had come in so quickly. That was the problem with operating this far north; the weather was unpredictable, and when it turned it took no prisoners. Nik had managed to get them to an old house he knew about just on the outskirts of a small town. One of many old estates once owned by a soviet officer, its wine cellar, opulent decorations, and sprawling grounds all that remained of the bloated symbol of hypocrisy. It had long since been abandoned by the locals; too much trouble to repair, and everything of immediate value had been gutted.
While Nik had tried to get one of the old radios they found to work, John had been shovelling snow around the generators in an effort to get close enough to crank them up, but the storm had eventually defeated him and driven him back inside. Not even the legendary Bravo Six could overcome nature when she dug her heels in. 
Nik wasn't immediately worried when John stepped into the study where they'd set up a temporary camp, shaking the snow from his carrier vest and coat like a dog clearing its fur. He was walking normally, placing his rifle down against the wall as he shut out the howling wind. Nik had loaded a fire in the hearth and found a heap of animal furs and blankets in one of the bedrooms upstairs to supplement their sleeping bags, so the room was warm enough to shed their coats and hang them to dry. He sat hunched over the desk by the window, one side of the headset pressed to his ear as he adjusted the antennae. 
The radio whirred and buzzed, but there was too much interference from the storm and all he could coax out of it was white noise and whining. "There is only static," Nik said. "It is working, but we will only get a communication through when the snow eases. For now, we must wait."
"Thas'good," John said, and then proceeded to knock into a dusty coffee table, his boots clumping heavily as he tried to steady himself.
Nik paused, his hand stilling on the dials. "Captain?" He looked over his shoulder, picking John's shape out in the gloom as his eyes adjusted to the dim light created by the fire. A sharp contrast to the almost radioactive yellow of the dials. He could see John slouched over by the door, his hand against the wall.
"Nik, I fink... Fink 'm..." 
Nik abandoned the radio in the next breath and was there to catch John when he staggered, his body falling heavily into Nik's arms. There was no mistaking the signs of hypothermia; John looked confused, his eyes dilated, and when Nik yanked his glove off with his teeth and shoved his hand just on the inside of John's collar where he should be warm and dry, his skin was cold and clammy.
"Nik, 'm... S'somethin'..." 
Nik dragged John towards the fire, his boots scuffing on the old wood panel floor as he struggled to find his footing. John's clothes were wet, inside and out; a combination of relentless snow melting through and the sweat from exertion meant that much of his gear's insulation had been rendered useless. Exposed for too long in adverse conditions, even the most expensive military kit couldn't keep up. 
Nik peeled John out of them, tearing off velcro and unclipping buckles, swift and efficient. His palms passed over pale skin spotted with freckles, blue in some places where it should be flushed and pink. Despite its pallor, John's body was truly beautiful; strong and athletic, with its defined musculature dusted by downy body hair. If the situation wasn't so desperate, Nik might have lingered to admire every new inch he revealed. He had fantasised about it long enough in private moments, his eyes closed and his hand inside his underwear.
John tried to help. Even dazed and shivering, he knew what was wrong. Knew what the process was. But his clumsy hands only slowed Nik down, numb fingers unable to grip or feel their way over the fastenings. "Let me. I have you," Nik said gently, pushing John's hands away from his belt. He was naked for barely a handful of seconds before Nik was wrapping him in a sleeping bag, laying him down on top of the pile of furs before the fire. 
There were warm packs in their Bergens and Nik cracked a few of these as he kicked off his own clothes. Sleeping bags needed actual body heat to work well, and that was something John was lacking; on their own, the heat packs wouldn't work quickly enough. This wasn't how Nik had wanted to hold John for the first time, not what he had dreamed about in those quiet hours before dawn, his hand clutched around his knot, but he didn't have time to lament fate.
Nik shivered as he grabbed the last of the blankets, a little musty, but a maid had clearly laundered them before storing them away for the final time. He draped them over in layers before sliding into the sleeping bag at John's back, large arms encircling his quivering chest and drawing him close, John's freezing body fully ensconced in life-saving warmth.
Only in the stillness that followed did Nik realise his own heart was hammering in his chest, his ears muffled by the pulse of his blood as he allowed himself the momentary grace to feel fear. What if John had stayed out only five minutes longer and collapsed in the snow? What if Nik had searched for him, his body already covered over, and hadn't found him until the morning? Frozen solid, his beautiful eyes empty of life. It could have happened. Fate had been close to stealing John away. Too close. 
John's laboured panting evened out and Nik felt his body go slack as he slipped in and out of unconsciousness. It was fine, as long as he was warming, breathing, his body relaxing out of its tense alarm, then Nik could stop his useless panicking.
 Nik swallowed, tilting his nose down into John's hair to inhale a lungful of him, seeking comfort from the soft scent of a mature, fertile omega; a guilty pleasure, but one he allowed himself to calm his fear. 
He had never been this close to John. Brief embraces, shoulder to shoulder in the back of a Hercules, sharing a drink and whispering conspiratorially in a bar, passing a cigar back and forth in the back of Nik's Black Hawk. So many intimate moments where Nik had fallen slowly, irrevocably in love with this fierce, bad-tempered, feral man with scruffy facial hair and cunningly intelligent blue eyes. But none like this. None where he could taste John's musky, soft smell in the back of his throat, feel the pulse of his heart as if it were beating under his own skin.
Nik knew he was torturing himself. John’s scent curled through him like rich cigar smoke in an expensive bar, winding down his spine until it coiled in his belly and stoked at his instincts.  Nik was so very aware of the firm line of John's body in his arms; the plush curves of his full arse, the strong muscles of his thighs and the quiet strength boasted by his broad shoulders. How soft and inviting his body hair was, how kissable the freckles, scars and moles across his skin, like constellations mapping a lifetime over John's body. The thought of spreading John's legs, sinking into his tight heat and making that gravelly voice break with pleasure was driving him insane.
"Blyat..." Nik muttered, the heat coiling in his hips, his cock twitching. Nik flattened his palm against John's chest and felt the strong, valiant thrum of his heart, defiant in the face of the cold. He used it to ground himself. He had to stay calm. For John's sake. While Nik could forgive his body its natural urges around such a handsome omega, he could not forgive any loss of control because of them.
Nik stayed vigilant as the minutes ticked into hours. He tried to remember his training about the different levels of hypothermia and their recovery times, but all his damn mind could latch onto was the scent and feel of the omega in his arms. Nik ached in a way he never had before; a deep, humming discontent at his very core. It was a combination of desire and terror; the cold had nearly snatched John away, and now here he was, so close, so vulnerable, and yet he had never been so off limits. Nik burned with need and it mocked him.
Nik held John a little tighter and closed his eyes. As long as he could feel the slow rise and fall of John's chest, feel the flutter of his breath over his bicep, he knew John was still… here. Alive, and safe. If Nik stayed still, taking each minute as it came, he would not slip. Not allow himself to indulge in his weakness.
Nik must have dozed off to the lullaby of John's heartbeat, his face tucked into his hair, because seemingly in the next moment John was writhing in his arms, his arse bumping back against the hard length of Nik's cock, which had only stiffened further as Nik had grounded himself in the strength of John's body. A poor method of quietening his libido, as it turned out, with John's scent now fogging every breath, melting into his hot skin like settling snow.
Nik loosened his embrace a little and John rolled over, the cold tip of his nose pressing between the mounds of Nik's tits. Nik felt the bristles of John's beard and then the soft vibration of a contented hum, followed by the softest roll of a pleased purr; the noise of a receptive omega looking to mate. It gripped in Nik’s chest like a closing fist and he drew in a stuttering breath. Nik stroked a palm down the curve of John's spine to settle at the small of his back, and John's hips pushed forward, teasing himself against the thick bulge in Nik's boxers. Nik did nothing to stop him, paralysed by the noise he never thought he'd hear John make.
One of those strong legs lifted to drape over Nik's hip, drawing him closer until Nik could feel John's wet slit dampening the cotton over his cock. John  was reacting favourably to his scent, judging him worthy as he flexed against his strength, instinctually reaching for him. Nik's entire body ached with desire and sordid lust, his teeth on edge, as the man he yearned for offered himself up in a poisoned chalice. To take advantage now would be beyond redemption.
 "John?" Nik croaked. 
John's lashes fluttered against Nik's skin and he pulled back a little, a stitch between his brows. "Nik, I..."
"How do you feel?" Nik bit out, intimately aware that he could feel the throbbing heat between John's legs pressed against the length of his cock.
John's cheeks reddened and Nik felt his weathered hands press to his chest. "Fine... Good, I... Sorry, 'm... I didn' mean..." 
"Is ok," Nik said softly. "It is warm. Your body is reacting naturally." 
John swallowed and Nik felt a deep breath shudder the length of his back. Noticeably, John didn't draw his hips away; he tensed and then relaxed, like he was fighting an internal battle, his body warming further in Nik's arms as his hips squirmed, rubbing the swollen bud of his cock against Nik's with a soft gasp of surprised pleasure. His skin was warm, flushed, the first beads of sweat gathering across his shoulder blades, slick between their bellies and chests. The miasma of pheromones and arousal made Nik dizzy, and beneath it he could smell the telltale sweetness of heat. 
John wasn't due, he knew that much. The captain organised his heats fastidiously. His body had been thrown off kilter by the cold, perhaps, or even the proximity and availability of someone his subconscious deemed a worthy mate to protect it while vulnerable; a virile, strong alpha.  The thought that John's primal self would offer him for mating, assured that Nik would be strong enough to protect him while he recovered, and the resulting pups from their union, stirred something feral and possessive in Nik's gut. He pushed it down, shoulders bunching.
John growled low in his throat, flashing his sharp canines, his fists bunching against Nik's chest, perhaps sensing the shift in Nik body. "Don't know wos fuckin' wrong with me," he snarled, and Nik felt the graze of those teeth against his clavicle. 
Nik knew John fought his biology. He chafed at it, saw it as a failing. Nik could only imagine what had been done to him in the past to make him feel that way. Like any omega, John was more than capable of tearing him to pieces if he felt threatened, but there was something so rawly vulnerable about John now as he clenched and growled, fighting something that he should view as a nuisance more than a crippling inadequacy. 
"Nothing," Nik said. "There is nothing wrong with you. You are... velikolepnyy." 
"Fuck, Nik..." John's fingers splayed over his chest again, the cool tip of his nose warming in the hollow of Nik's throat. "Haa, hnn, I think.. ahh, I think ‘m..."
"Da, I can... smell it in your sweat."
"Fuck, fuck..." John snarled, letting out another soft gasp as his body cramped for the first time.
"It is ok. You are safe. We can manage it until help arrives."
John shoved his face into Nik's chest and groaned, pained. “Yer so fuckin’ hard, Nik.”
Nik swallowed. That didn't sound like anger or disgust. But desperation and desire. “Da, you… smell very good,” Nik said, somewhat lamely. “It is ok. I can… I am in control.”
“Oh, fu–” John tensed in Nik’s arms, and Nik heard his jaw creak as he clenched his teeth through another spasm of discomfort. “Need t’ get out of here or I won't be… ha-ah.” 
“Nyet, you… John, you must stay in the warm.’
“All the bloody blankets smell of you. S’only gonna… get worse. Fuck, why fuckin’... now?”
Nik swallowed and slid a hand from John's back to his hip. “A panic response. You were in danger–this is not your fault.”
John said nothing. He faded into silence, his body wound tight in Nik’s arms. His previously calm, deep breaths that had inhaled lungfuls of Nik’s scent, soothing his heat into a deeper lull, now hitched in short, sharp pants, trying to avoid the lure of comfort and surrender. Nik wished they were home, in John's bed, or even the snug bunk he used in his office when he couldn't be bothered to drive back to his flat. At least there, surrounded by familiarity, John might have felt safe enough to tentatively explore the desire sinking its hooks in.
But then, Nik thought with only a hint of bitterness, it was the sheer desperation of the environment around them that had panicked his body enough to shake up the clock. Without it, John would have always remained in absolute control of himself to the point of guarded repression. He would have never fallen into Nik's embrace.
“God, fuck,” John growled, his body rigid, like if he moved even an inch he might lose some invisible battle. Ground lost to an encroaching enemy. Nik wished he could roll him into his back and scent him until he relaxed. Every instinct sparking in his brain roared with distress at the discomfort of the omega in his arms, demanding he do something, anything. He laid there uselessly, as frozen as the fish in the ponds outside, caught in the storm of competing needs; to satiate John, and to respect him. It hurt that the two things were in opposition when they should be one and the same.
John shifted, his broad shoulders rolling a little, his head tilting back. Nik could practically hear the cogs whirring in John's mind. When he finally lifted his chin far enough for their eyes to meet, John's were red and watery from stress, pupils dilated. Nik could see a deep sadness, a kind of resignation; bright blue dampened to a faded grey. “I, uh… would ya help me, Nik?”
Nik’s mouth opened and closed, each breath drawing more of John’s deep, saccharine scent to the back of his tongue. His body was tense in Nik’s arms still, occasionally shuddering as another muscle spasm worked its way through his core, a grunt snorting through his nose as he swallowed down his groan of pain. Nik couldn't find his words. “I…”
“C’mon, know you want it, can feel ya between my legs,” John said, huffing softly with amusement, face crinkling in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. “Would jus’ be, mm… quick, y’know? So they don't find me in a state. I'd make it up t’ ya, on my word.”
“You would offer me something I have wanted for years as if it is a burden,” Nik said, trying to keep the edge of sadness from his voice but failing rather miserably. “This is not how I… hoped it to be.”
John swallowed, his eyes dropped, expression hazy. It wasn't how Nik had hoped his confession would be either. He had pictured an expensive dinner, perhaps a trip to Duxford so he could look at the planes and John could look at the tanks, and then Nik would have told him as they strolled through the countryside towards a pint, wrapped in scarves and heavy coats. Warm, safe. Comfortable in each other’s presence as they had always been. Like this, John would feel under duress, vulnerable and like he needed to be on the defence.
Another shudder, another pant of breath, the soft gasp not quite bitten back in time. “Please, Nik… can’t let them see me like this, I… I'll be good.. ahh, for ya. No funny business.”
“Funny business?”
“Yeah, not gonna bite, or… mm, won't… won't fight ya.”
“John…” Nik said, his chest pulling tight; his teeth ached at the back of his mouth and a miserable knot formed in his throat. “I am not a rapist.”
“I know, I know… Nik, 'm… ahh, ‘m not thinkin’, didn't mean it like that, I…” John's face dropped to Nik's chest for a moment as he gathered himself. “Jus’... Don't bite me, don't mark me, no’... no’ ready. I… no’ like this.”
“I promise I won't,” Nik said. It hurt that John couldn't meet his eyes. Someone had hurt him badly in the past. Nik had always assumed as such, but that was all the confirmation he needed. The harm was so deep, still raw, that John couldn't even trust a man that had served him loyally for so many years.
Nik lifted the hand from John's hip and cupped the side of his face, thumb brushing over his cheek. Those blue eyes flickered and John tilted into his palm, the softest purr breaking through the tightness of his jaw, so low, like a glass marble rolling across an old oak table. Nik couldn't be sure John wasn't forcing it for his benefit, but it had the desired effect either way; the alpha part of his biology ruffled happily, and he responded with a soft chuff, pressing his lips to John's forehead. "Ya tebya obozhayu."
Nik couldn't resist any longer. If he was gentle, if he took his time, then that apprehension he could see in John's eyes, the tense fear rigid down his back, would melt away. John was watching him, sad blue eyes glistening, part in shame, part in barely disguised fear, and Nik wanted to hold him until all he felt was comfort and pleasure. 
Their first kiss was tentative, as tender as Nik could be as his hands shook. John's mouth yielded to his tongue, soft, chapped lips parting with a low moan as John's body arched against his once again. Nik slid his palm beneath John’s thigh to lift it further over his hip, grinding his hard cock against the wet heat between his legs, slow and leisurely. Even the soft material of his boxers would begin to feel coarse against John's heat sensitive skin, so they needed to go.
When Nik pulled away, he sucked gently on John's lower lip, before pressing another kiss to his forehead creased with tense lines. He wriggled away enough to shove his boxers off his hips and down his thighs until they passed his knees. When John pressed back against him, soft skin of his inner thigh sliding over the outside of Nik's, Nik's cock head slid through his wet folds, bumping up against the swell of his cock. 
“Oh fuck, Nik… yer so fuckin’ thick…” John bit out, grinding himself against the underside of Nik's cock, slick and precum making filthy, wet noises as John groaned into Nik's chest, hands clutching at the meat of Nik's body as he took his pleasure. Nik let him, mouth hanging open, the soft, wet slit of John’s cunt hot and perfect around the underside of his shaft. 
He cupped John's arse with one hand, spreading it open a little so his fingers could dip towards the fluttering muscles of John's holes. The softest brush of his fingertips appeared to be enough because John’s moans hit a peak after only two passes, his body seizing, pushing hard against Nik's cock. “Oh, fuck, Nik, Nik… ha-ah.”
John tucked his face away as if ashamed at his eagerness, pressing his nose into the centre of Nik's chest as his orgasm rattled through him. He was on a hair trigger, sensitivity heightened, receptive to a potential mate’s touch. The thought made something warm and heavy curl in Nik’s belly, and he allowed himself a fleeting moment of excitement. Nik nuzzled a kiss in his hair and chuffed softly, stroking his hands up and down John's back before lifting John higher against him, his cock flicking free of the press of John's body. 
It was awkward like this, wrapped tightly in the blankets with John half draped over him, and Nik didn't want to risk rolling on top of John and panicking him. There was a risk instinct would overcome reason in the haze of heat and John's fear, and those sharp teeth would rip through his jugular in seconds. Perhaps later, when he had realised Nik wasn't about to hurt him, Nik would drape over his back and appease the deep need in his gut to blanket his omega as they mated, to fully encompass his powerful body as it presented and guard it with his own. Instead, Nik reached beneath John's thigh, hitching it a little higher, to steady his cock just long enough to sink the head inside.
John gasped, his back arching, his walls still tingling from his orgasm bore down, spasming in renewed pleasure as Nik slowly thrust inside. He couldn't quite get fully seated, not at this angle, but it was enough. His eyes flickered shut at the sweet, soft heat sucking around his shaft as he drew back, thrusting back in with a slow roll of the hips, feeling John press against him with a strangled grunt of shock.
“John…” Nik kept hold of John’s thigh but the other hand slid up his back into his hair, urging his face away from where it had buried against his chest. His eyes were red-rimmed, dull, and there was a crease of concentration doen his face. Nik's heart ached. “I am sorry… you are… tight.”
“S’ok,” John croaked. “Don' be, s’fine, feels good… please, move… ‘m–haa.”
Nik kissed him gently on the lips, no more than a brief brush, before rolling to ease him on top. As John slid down Nik's full length, his knees splaying over the blankets, he choked out a soft gasp. “Nik, fuck, so much… haa, mmm, n-no, give me a moment, need a moment…” 
John was so tight, bearing down on the thick girth pressing him open, resisting, anxious. Nik had a slight height advantage, and he used it to press gentle kisses to John's face; over his brow, against a flushed cheek and the creases at the corners of his eyes. He chuffed, stroking warm palms up and down John's broad back as it flexed and quivered.
With each caress, John relaxed, sinking down against the plush warmth of Nik's body; the give of his belly, the cushion of his chest, the downy black hair of his torso that trapped the scent of his sweat and pheromones, rubbing both into John's skin. 
John tucked his nose beneath Nik's chin and purred, rough and craggy, like someone had rubbed sandpaper down his throat. Not the silky trill of a young omega, but the worn, tired purr of a mature one that has torn his way through life with his bare hands, snarling and growling, so used to roaring with fury that gentler noises were unwieldy. And yet, it was the most beautiful sound Nik had ever heard.
Nik responded with soft huffs and murmurs of his own, hands sliding down to John's thighs as he slowly rocked his hips up, dragging his thick cock out until only his crown stayed notched inside, the slick dripping down his shaft, soaking his balls, further assurance that John was finding pleasure in their mating. When John tilted his head and started to lick at Nik’s chin and neck, his tongue rasping over Nik’s stubble in long, indulgent laps, Nik tilted his back to submit himself to his omega’s affectionate grooming. I trust you, please trust me.
His. His omega. John was his. Handsome, fierce, strong. Every inch of him wrapped in corded muscle, with a soft layer over his belly and tits, his slim waist and the dip of his back perfectly shaped for Nik’s hands, the firm curves of his arse and thighs, built for explosive strength, agility, for riding an alpha’s cock and taking their pleasure. If only someone had nurtured John's confidence rather than destroy it. 
Nik pushed his heels and upper back into the floor, and bounced John’s hips against his, fucking him down onto his cock with increasing pace.
“Oh, Nik, Nik… mmm, yeah, tha’--ah, ah, fuck,” John panted, breath hot against the wetness he had left on the underside of Nik's chin.
“You are perfect, John. Tell me, tell me what… mm, tell me what you want…”
“Ahh, ahh, I nee’, ah, Nik, yeah…”
“That's it, solnyshko, take what you… ahh, take what you need. I am yours.”
 Nik could feel John taking agency, tentatively, his hips moving without guidance. He slid his hands down the back of John's thighs and held him behind the knees, giving him something to brace against as he began to grind and roll with increasing urgency, chasing the pleasure coiling in his hips, tensing in his thighs and his lower back.
“Ahh, yer… ahh, yer gettin’ harder… feel, ahh, feel bigger, mm… ahh, yer knot, fuck!”
Nik's knot was beginning to swell, popping in and out of John's hole, gaping him wide with each pass. His back arched, hips thrusting up to meet John, a firm platform for him to slam himself down and grind against. Under the cover of the blanket, the sweat eased the glide of their bodies together, intensifying the scent of heat and arousal in Nik's nostrils. His balls pulled tight as John's desperate noises, broken and gravelly, hit a new, urgent note, and his knot swelled, grinding into John's hole until it locked them together. 
Nik released John's shaking legs as his body responded with a deep, overwhelming orgasm that milked Nik’s knot, and Nik grabbed John's face, arching him back to lick the sweat up the curve of his throat. So close to his scent glands, it was saturated in heat pheromones and Nik sucked desperately at the soft, vulnerable skin just above the hollow of his throat as his prick filled John with his seed.
 Those strong thighs clamped around his hips, shuddering and weak from exertion, and Nik whispered gentle praise until John went limp against him, melting into the cradle of Nik's body and relaxing around the bulge of his knot. 
Nik had never felt satisfaction like it. A soft, comfortable calm settled deep in his bones. His omega smelled satiated, content, the heave of his shoulders calming as his heart settled into an even rhythm. Neither of them spoke. Nik thought perhaps they were both listening to each other's bodies. Nik could feel John's heartbeat; against his chest, wrapped around his cock. Defiant, strong. And Nik wondered whether John could feel his, beating deep inside him, whether it made him feel content, whether the intimacy made him feel as content as it did Nik. Nik kissed John's neck and received a soft rumble in response.
They dozed. Nik's knot went down and he eased John into the softness of the blankets, kissing his chest, his throat, his mouth. Desperate to taste him, to please and comfort him. He was sucking a pebbled nipple when John tugged at him again, gladly spreading his legs for Nik to climb between them. Nik gathered John's hands and pressed them above his head, their fingers wound together, and watched his eyes, kissed his lips, made love to him as gently as he could.
 Muscular thighs spread wide as Nik ground deep inside John's eager cunt, alternating between agile rolls and circles of his hips and deeper thrusts that let John feel the heavy balls ready to breed him. The second knot was as intense as the first, and Nik fucked his spend deep into John's body, his tongue in his mouth, their lips locked together. John pushed himself up into it, legs wide in wanton and beautiful submission. 
The ebb and flow of John's heat stretched through the night, the storm howling relentlessly outside. They slept between bouts of sex, with John curled into the safety of Nik's arms. After his first turn on top, he was too weak to take the lead again; drained by his brush with the cold, exhausted by the anxiety of an unplanned heat, he relaxed into Nik's care because he had little choice. Nik cradled him, kept them wrapped in the blankets, now rich with the miasma of their mating, their bodies slick and pliant. Every time John demanded, Nik provided. 
When he left the impromptu nest - for that is what it had become, soaked in the scent of their mating - it was only to check the radio, feed the fire and arrange John's clothes before it to dry. Each time he returned, John curled back into his embrace with a contented purr, drawing Nik back between his legs.
As dawn creeped closer, John's scent changed, so full of Nik now that he was ready to be claimed. John rolled onto his front, too exhausted to fight his natural desires, and tilted his hips up. Nik writhed between the blankets to taste between his legs, warm tongue lapping slowly over John's puffy, sore cunt, so sensitive and wet, giving into his own instincts to taste the fertility and readiness of his omega. 
It was dizzying, intoxicating; Nik pressed his tongue inside and felt John squeeze around him, heard him sigh softly in pleasure, and ground his hard cock against the furs in excitement. He had done this. He had satisfied this strong, indomitable omega to the point he would relax, present, accept a deep and thorough breeding. Nik had been deemed worthy once again.
Nik licked John until his jaw ached, his face soaked in slick, reaching to play with John's engorged cock, squeezing and rubbing until John’s hips were rocking, his moans low and filthy. Eventually, John squirmed, a softer orgasm making his walls flutter in search of a knot as his fingers snagged in the furs. His heat would break in the next few hours; this was their final coupling. 
Nik draped over his back, up on his hands and toes with John's hips tilted up. John swallowed him so easily, snug heat sucking Nik’s cock down until Nik’s heavy balls were flush to his body. Nik groaned, the silky soft wetness somehow more divine than it had been the first time, and John echoed him, pressing back, demanding his alpha.
“Nik…”
It was the first word John had said in hours. He had been mostly moans, gasps and growls, completely delirious. That was it, wasn't it? The tension, the resistance, it had melted away, John wanted him, wanted to feel his knot, to take his seed. 
“Da, solnyshko. I am here…”
John twisted, arching back, and they kissed, John licking into Nik's mouth. No hiding his face, no delirious submission, but seeking affection as Nik slowly rocked into him. Nik's chest ached in a different way; relief, love, a deep need to protect, to serve his omega's every whim. The soft noises John made through their kiss as Nik dragged every inch of his prick in and out of his body made Nik want to stay there forever, trapped in this moment of bliss. So in tune with John, their heartbeats in tandem, bodies joined as one. 
When John broke the kiss, he turned to press his chest into the furs and lift into Nik's thrusts. “Breed me proper, Nik… fuck, I need it… need yer knot, mmm, please, please… harder, wanna feel ya in my damn womb.”
Nik's nostrils flared, his lips rolling back to show his teeth. He dropped to his elbows and tucked his arms beneath John's chest, pressing his own into the sweaty plain of John's back, and began to rut into him harder, faster. The blankets fell away with the pace of Nik's movements, but the fire was stacked high, the room warm enough that it didn't matter. John moaned and gasped, slick hole bearing down on the relentless pump of Nik’s prick into it, hands kneading at the furs.
 It was instinctual to lean down and mouth the gland at John's neck, rolling it between his teeth, the sweet taste of unmated omega soaking his tongue. John moaned, more slick dripping down his thighs, his mind unthinking in a soft haze of instinct and heat. He didn't resist, didn't fight. 
It would be so easy to claim him at that moment. They would be bonded for life. This beautiful omega would be Nik's and Nik’s alone. Every heat, his body would call for Nik, and Nik’s rut would answer. The intensity of their mating would leave them both sated, and Nik would have a lifetime to show John how much he deserved to be loved. Perhaps even a pup or two, with John's beautiful blue eyes and round cheeks and lopsided smile–
Nik moaned, teeth tightening, as his hips pistoned harder, cock throbbing, so close to release. John's body was so open, so wet, the noises filling the room alongside their moans completely obscene. The filthy pleasure of it roiled in Nik's gut, the thought of pumping another load deep inside his omega, of it quickening as his teeth rended through freckled skin to claim what was already his by fucking birth right, and John had said no, but what if–
He growled low in his chest and forced his jaw apart, pressing his open mouth to John's shoulder, as his knot popped and his balls emptied in powerful pulses. 
He didn't bite down. 
Wouldn't. 
Couldn't. 
John had said no and Nik's love for the man was greater than his desire for the omega, even in the heat of the moment. A well of self disgust formed in Nik's chest as he pressed his face to John's back, the fevered, possessive internal rant fading into an echo in the back of his mind.
John moaned and flopped into the furs, his hips shifting only with the occasional stutter of Nik's as he ground his spend as deep as he could. Nik relaxed some of his weight onto John's back and felt him vibrate with the depth of his contentment; a low, croaky purr, only stoked a little louder when Nik lapped at the sweat on his neck, his biceps, and nuzzled into his hair and beard. “Am I too heavy?” he asked, his voice soft beneath the crackle and pop of the fire.
“Naw, feels like yer crushin’ my soul back into my body,” John murmured, his muscles squeezing a little around the swell of Nik's knot. “Feels… good.”
Safe, Nik thought. 
The way John was relaxing into the furs, his scent sweet and doughy, blue eyes drooping closed. Nik continued to groom him while they were knotted, licking at the rough at the edge of his grey-speckled beard, nipping his ears and kissing the slopes of his shoulders. 
When Nik’s knot faded, he sat back on his heels and watched his cock pull free of John's body with a filthy little slurp. He pressed his thumbs into John's thighs to spread them, admiring the glisten of slick and cum dripping out of John's used hole. Something primal wanted to push it all back in, to make sure not a single drop was wasted. With John so relaxed, Nik gave in to the desire. When Nik slid two fingers in slowly, watching John's soft cunt swallow them so easily, he groaned. It was enough to make his cock twitch with interest again, despite the ache in his lower back and thighs.
“Nik…” John whispered, his hips lifting. “‘m knackered, c’mon… oh, fuck.”
“You are just so perfect… krasivyy. I want to make you feel good. Just once more.” Nik slid his other hand beneath John's body, two fingers rubbing back and forth over the lovely swell of his eager cock, matching the pace of the two thrusting into his cunt.
“Oh, ah, Nik… it's… too much, ‘m too… ah.”
Nik curled his fingers, finding the sweet spot that made John's back arch, and it was so breathtaking the way his muscles bunched, rolling beneath sweat slick-skin, following each pulse of pleasure as it passed up his spine. John's knees spread out, agile hips grinding his cock against the rough pads of Nik's fingers. Even exhausted, wrung out, John’s body sang like a finely tuned instrument under Nik's touch. Like they were meant to be, even without the chemical bond of a mating mark.
John came with a broken moan, his thighs shaking as his cunt clenched around Nik's fingers, slick and cum soaking Nik's palms. The alpha in Nik rumbled with pride and he pulled his hands away to watch John flop, powerful body twitching in the aftershocks. 
Nik drew the blankets over their backs and bedded down at John's side, pressing his lips to the back of John's shoulder. In the soft afterglow of their mating, Nik made the silent promise to wait as long as it took for John to be ready. Even if their bonding was his final act as he drew his last breath.
Nik woke some hours later to a crackling voice through the radio. This is Bravo 7. Come in, Yankee 7. He dragged himself out from beneath the blankets and stumbled over to the headset. “This is Yankee 7. It is… good to hear your voice, Lieutenant.”
Copy. And yours. Sitrep?
“We are secure. The captain requires… medical assistance, but it is non-urgent. Hypothermic but stabilised.”
Roger. Location? Over.
“Figures,” Nik yanked his notepad towards him and read out the coordinates.
Rog. Hostiles? Over.
“Just the storm.”
ETA two hours. Sit tight. Out.
Pulling John from the nest felt cruel. Omegas needed time to recover from a heat, and prepare for the next stage. A stage that John would not get to experience, Nik realised, with no small pang of disappointment. They had little time to talk, focusing on packing up camp and covering evidence of their presence.
John's clothes were rough where they had dried before the fire, and Nik held him as he climbed awkwardly back into them. By the time they were making their way towards the drumming blades of a helicopter, Nik's arms around John's back to help him across the uneven ground, they smelled more of woodsmoke and musty damp than sex. 
Ghost’s eyes lingered on John when he snapped at the attempt to help him into the Heli. A recently mated omega was aggressive to any alpha that wasn't theirs, and the lieutenant knew something existed between his captain and the pilot that arrived to snatch him from frying pans and fires across the world. Nik dipped his chin once when Ghost glanced at him, and that was enough for the lieutenant.
They gave John his space on the flight home, listening to him growl over the Comms, updating Laswell and Mac on the relative success of the mission. They had secured the intel they needed, even if the storm had nearly scuppered them. 
Rog. Ye broken?
“Naw, caught a cold, nuffin’ a rest won't fix.”
Copy. See ye when ye land. Oout. 
Nik watched John chuck the radio down and drop his face into his hands, and had to grip his own knees hard to stop from moving over to comfort him. All he felt for the entire journey was a burning desire to blanket and scent the love of his life until he could sleep peacefully. John dozed fitfully the rest of the way, startling awake where he felt unsafe, unguarded. 
The base nurses kept him in for a night for monitoring after Nik had accurately relayed John's symptoms, omitting the heat when John had cast him a stern look. So it wasn't until the next day that Nik had a chance to speak to him without prying eyes and ears encroaching on their privacy. Nik caught him just as he was heading into his office.
“John.” Nik felt a stab of pain as John’s shoulders lifted with tension. He couldn't help but reach for him, fingertips stroking the inside of his elbow. 
“You olrigh’, Nik?”
“Da,” Nik said, his hand dropping away under John's scrutiny. “Did… did they clear you?”
“Yeah, they said… uh, ya saved my life. Again. Quick thinkin'.”
Nik swallowed, his palm pressing to the door by John's head, desperate to touch him. “And yet, you cannot look at me.”
John’s breath hitched. “I, uh… what you saw… I had no right t’ demand that of ya, Nik. I was arrogant t' think I didn't need spare suppressants for a quick jaunt. Fuckin' irresponsible. Won't 'appen again.”
“You demanded nothing I was not willing to give.”
Somehow, that was the wrong thing to say. John drew in a stuttering breath and tilted his head away, like Nik's scent, even dull beneath shower gel and cologne, was too much. “Yeah, I… thanks fer no’ bitin’ me. I woulda let ya… at the end.”
Nik felt a prickling at the backs of his eyes, a tight knot in his throat. “I do not wish to be thanked for common decency.”
John huffed. It was a sad, resigned noise from deep inside his chest. “Not as common as ya think, mate. Listen, I need time t’ process… come back tomorra?”
“John, I…”
“I need bloody space, Nik,” John snapped, and Nik heard an edge in his voice usually reserved for people stupid enough to try clawing their way under John's skin. “Tomorra, olrigh’?”
Nik blinked quickly, drawing back and inhaling a deep breath. It only served to carry the scent of distressed omega to the back of his tongue, and he wanted nothing more than to curl around John until he smelled just as content as he had in their makeshift nest. “Da. Tomorrow then.”
John pushed down the handle beneath his hand and disappeared inside his office, leaving Nik in the corridor to stare forlornly at the door. 
He would wait, he reminded himself. Wait for John to be ready. Even if it took ‘til his dying breath. Nik placed his palm gently on the door before he departed, heading for the familiar comfort of his Black Hawk and her myriad of mechanical issues to occupy his mind.
If Nik had pushed the boundary, he would have found John Price, Captain, peerless leader of the 141, the indomitable Bravo Six, curled up on the floor on the other side of the door, his face buried in his knees as the tears fell and his shoulders shook. He had said he needed space to process, but the truth was, he had no idea where to even start.
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gatorbites-imagines · 3 days ago
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on my hands and knees begging for a victor creed/sabertooth fic. one of the finest mutants in the comics and he gets so little attention
Victor Creed x male reader
Headcanons
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Love this fellow… big fan of cats… Heres just some all over the place relationship headcanons :3c
The silly… the very very deadly silly. He really has you going “what murderrrrr, he’s the best guy around???” because he’s actually nice to you. Or well, as nice as Victor can be.
You obviously know all the shit he’s done and that Victor is very much a hater down to the very bone, its very obvious. But you love him anyways. And how can you not, hes very handsome and warm.
Victor is not the most verbal when it comes to his feelings for you, like, at all. He has only said I love you on very rare occasions, and that’s when he or you are near death, or if you guys are getting married.
He shows his care and love in other ways, like beating up anyone who looks at you wrong. Or bringing you dead stuff, like some kind of big cat.
Speaking of cats. Victor purrs, because I said so. He also likes to lay and laze in the sun and will drag you along to lay against his chest as he just basks in it, rumbling deep in his chest and snoring.
Victor can sleep 16 hours a day like a cat, something you always joke about when you catch him. Logically you know it’s because he gets less sleep than he should and needs to catch up, but teasing him is just very fun.
Victor is a very gruff and mean guy in every way, hes a huge dick to say the least. Even to you, in the beginning. And the beginning of your relationship was a lot of arguing or tension. You honestly have no idea how you guys really started dating.
A lot of the issues stem from Victor just leaving whenever he wants for however long without telling you or keeping you in the loop. Theres also the issue that he just doesn’t communicate anything that might be wrong, instead just letting it fester.
But with a lot of work, you two figure it out. Sure, he still runs off to throw down with Wolverine on the semi-regular, but he gives you a timeframe he will be home, and actually looks sorry when he doesn’t make it.
At times when you are extra angry you’ll make him sleep on the couch or in the guest room, and Victor will stand at the foot of your bed, holding his blanket and looking so sad and pathetic. This should be impossible for a guy like him, but somehow, he does it.
Speaking of cuddling, I think Victor thought he wouldn’t like doing it. but then he realized how good it felt when you scratched your nails across his chest or through his hair, and that he could actually purr, since he first started purring with you.
If you are a mutant, then you have lunch or dinners with some of the x-men, if you aren’t a member. Victor gets dragged along, and he and Logan have to behave for the day. At least Victor bakes a great pie for these luncheons.
You make sure to reward him for behaving, as well as Victor is able, when you guys get home. How that reward goes depends on the day ;)
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starbylers · 11 hours ago
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Confession I kind of don’t like the suggestion that the way in which they will show Mike liking Will is having him constantly worry over him/be desperate to save him from something. The reason Mike & Will work and would be better together than Mike & El is because of their friendship, I don’t want Mleven 2.0 where the only reason people perceive them as in love is because of the life and death dramatics. I want emotional support and strong communication and teamwork between them (I also want flirting like in 4x04 but that’s besides the point). In s3 Mike fusses so much over El making her own choices about using her powers that it suffocates her, she literally has to tell him to stop it and to “trust [her]”. And aside from that all he does 24/7 is worry she’s going to die and/or abandon him, it’s nauseatingly repetitive and says nothing about their actual romantic relationship. I don’t want that for Byler. I want Will to tell Mike “I need to do X” (X being risky/dangerous thing) and for Mike to say “okay, talk to me. tell me how I can help. how are we going to do this?”. Maybe we’ll get it both ways depending on if Will tries to do something really stupid like sacrifice himself, and obviously Mike being a bit on edge in general because of Will likely being Vecna’s main target makes sense, but I just want their relationship to be mostly focused on showcasing their actual bond and why it’s so special instead of forcing this state of panic onto Mike that is too reminiscent of his trauma-induced dynamic with El which is half of why I need that ship to be over in the first place
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holylulusworld · 16 hours ago
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Gap Filler (1)
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Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.
Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups
A/N: A short drabble miniseries.
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Rachel is back. She wants to try again. You repeat every single word Walter said to you again and again until he grabs you by your arms to shake you.
“Why now? I thought we were fine, and the next step was to… You trail off and shake your head as you try to fathom that Walter is about to end what you built.
Until a few moments ago, you believed Walter and you were going steady. You spent the last thirteen months believing he felt the same way. Last week, you overheard a conversation and believed he was going to ask you to move in with him.
You got your hopes high only to look at your shattered heart lying on the ground. Literally—you dropped the cake in the shape of a heart you baked for Walter.
“You need to calm down,” Walter huffs. “Fuck, I thought this was only a colleague-with-benefits kind of arrangement! I never wanted this to go on for so long. I should’ve ended things much sooner.”
“Colleagues with benefits kind of—what?” Your eyes widen and you gape up at Walter. This can’t be real. While you were in a relationship, Walter only wanted to have sex.
“We both got tipsy at that party, and things happened,” Walter continues, shattering your heart. “I thought you knew what this was, Y/N.”
“Walter, we were dating for thirteen months! This is not a one-time thing or shit. You bought me flowers for Valentine’s Day, and we made plans for Christmas and the future!”
“You made plans,” he says, a little too harsh. You flinch and immediately push against his chest to get him off you. “I never said I’d join you on your planned activities.”
“Activities…” You sniffle. “I planned Christmas for us, and you call it activities? We were together for thirteen months, and you call it a one-night stand.”
“Christ, Y/N! After Rachel left, I was down. You were all too willing to fill the gap she left.”
You visibly flinch at his words. “I was a gap filler,” you murmur more to yourself than Walter. All the time you spent together meant so much to you, and Walter simply wanted to get off and fill a gap. “A gap filler…”
Walter watches you step back and shake your head as he reaches out for you. Tears run down your cheeks, but you couldn’t care less. The man you love with all your heart reduced you to a body he could use to stuff with his cock. “Wow, I don’t think any other guy ever hurt me as much as you did.”
You chuckle humorlessly as he tries to talk you into sitting down and talking things out.
“Go ahead,” you stubbornly say. “Get back together with the woman leaving you for a job. A job, Walter! She didn’t even have the decency to tell you to your face. She broke up with you via voicemail.” You snicker as his face falls. “She must be so in love with you!”
Turning on your heels, you don’t look back. If you do, you’ll break down and cry.
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“We are going to miss you,” your supervisor says. You got the offer for a better position weeks ago but didn’t answer. Believing that your relationship with Walter is developing, you didn’t think about the better position. Moving far away from the man you love wasn’t an option.
“I must go,” you repeat the mantra you practiced for over a week. Avoiding getting anywhere near Walter helped too. “The offer was too good.”
You lie; your supervisor can see it in your eyes. She has known you for years and heard that Rachel will return to your department at the beginning of the next year.
She’s one of the few people knowing about your relationship with Walter and assumes your goodbye has something to do with her return. “You’ll always have your place here if you decide to come back.”
“I know, and thank you for it,” you say, voice saddening. You loved working with your team. Walter made it impossible for you to stay and live your life unbothered by his blooming relationship with his ex.
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“Is this an early Christmas party?” Walter gruffly asks your supervisor. She organized a farewell party for you. You took the rest of the year off to pack up your life and leave town to start anew somewhere far away from Walter.
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” She replies, anger in her eyes. “Y/N is leaving. She took the job offer and quit. A shame. She was one of our best technicians. I wonder what made her change her mind. She already refused to take the job offer.”
She walks off, smirking as Walter frantically runs his fingers through his hair. He believed you took the job offer months ago. His face falls as he watches you stand in a corner, shying away from everyone once again. Just like in the beginning, before he made a move.
His gaze fixated on you, he ignores everyone else who is staring at him. Walter wrings his hands, wondering if he should talk to you. The decision is taken from him when you walk out of the room without looking back. You’re done here and don’t want anyone else to pity you.
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Walter searches for any trace of you at your office. He opens drawers, huffing as there is nothing left of you. He sits on your chair and frowns deeply.
For weeks, he was hurting. Walter believed you wanted to leave him, just like Rachel before you, for a job. He did the only thing to prevent his heart from breaking. Walter broke your heart first.
Now that he found out the truth, he feels like a monster. He looks at the trash can under your desk, filled with the remnants of your work here.
Walter fishes a plastic stick out of the trash can, immediately sucking in a breath as his eyes drop to the word on the test. “Pregnant…”
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Tags in reblog.
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crystaljellie · 2 days ago
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Scott and Pearl analysis moment
Because I’m sick and tired of people mischaracterising C!Scott he is not evil!! Pearl does not hate him!! She’s bitter sure but she doesn’t hate him.
Starting with them in last life Pearl and Scott always sticking by each other always being there for each other, I’ve seen so many “Scott was using Pearl” because he wanted a life from her. Like he’s trying to live?? It’s different from Grian stealing a life from Scar and then tormenting him and giving him nothing in return. Scott does his absolute best to protect Pearl protect their house and spend time with her.
He’s a good friend. And he’s absolutely heartbroken when she dies, because Scott knew she was going to but he didn’t want her to go before him. And he definitely keeps his cool because Scott isn’t the kind of guy to go if the rail easily, the way you can tell Scott is angry is by how reckless or determined he gets. In third life he’s distraught by Jimmy’s death and then rushes in and dies quickly because he doesn’t want to be alone. And in last life he kills Ren because he killed Pearl. He’s doing it to avenge her.
He’s glad when he wins but he’s not upset when he dies either. He’s annoyed that he didn’t get to choose his own death but. He celebrates winning because he doesn’t have to lose anybody else.
And so jump to double life and all of a sudden the person he loves so much and has gone out of his way to protect doesn’t even take the time to go looking for him, so you can see why he’s upset. And it’s the biggest miscommunication moment ever because Pearl is expecting to go back and have Scott waiting with open arms for her, and she can’t explain to him and doesn’t understand what she did wrong, which tbh is nothing but that doesn’t make the way Scott feels invalid either.
And then it kind of all goes to shit, Scott’s more snappy and on edge this season because he won the last one and ya know winners trauma. And he honestly doesn’t want to win again so when Cleo suggests tormenting Pearl (I think that’s how it happens I don’t remember it might have been scar with the snow buckets first) he’s all for it!! Because he’s hurting!!
And pearl on the other hand is left alone and has no idea what to do with herself, because sure she can handle being alone but she can’t handle being alone like this, where’s she’s forced into isolation, she’s going crazy because she feels like everyone she loves has left her, she’s mad at Scott and she’s more mad at Cleo because she feels like Cleo has stolen him from her. And so she lashes out because it’s all she knows how to do here, and in a death game what’s a better form of communication than violence?
But she doesn’t want Scott to die not because she wants to live but because she still cares even if she doesn’t want to care. She wants Scott to hurt because she’s hurting, but like Scott in last life she can’t bare to see him die before her.
She’s winning this to prove herself to be someone who doesn’t need Scott. But she still cares so much and she hates it, that’s why she spends the first couple sessions trying to win him back.
And Scott is with Cleo but he feels alone too, because Cleo’s relationship with Martyn isn’t as strained as his is with Pearl. And he knows it’s his fault, he does. That’s why he starts trying to sabotage other relationships, so he doesn’t have to feel as bad.
That’s why he’s careful to stay alive, so he can make it up to Pearl in some way.
He avoids everything he can that might make him face that guilt. But he’s hurt and is stuck with all the blame placed on him. Everyone KNOWS it’s Scott’s fault Pearl is the way she is. But no one but Cleo acknowledges this which makes Scott more bitter, and honestly he’s a little bit scared of Pearl not that he’ll admit that to anyone ever.
But him feeling this guilt is why he kills himself at the end that and because he’s scared of winning again. But he knows he doesn’t deserve getting to where he’s gotten to, and with his self sacrificial nature he’s trying to make it up to her. If she watches him hurt and hurt and die, maybe she’ll feel better.
AND SHE DOES FORGIVE HIM!!! NOT BECAUSE SHE LIKES SEEING HIM HURT!! SHE HATES THAT PART!! SHE FORGIVES HIM BECAUSE SHE CAN SEE HOW MUCH HE CARES! And obviously she’s still a little bit bitter because like who wouldn’t be. But she forgives him and she can see he’s trying that he feels awful about it, so awful that actually kills himself.
And you can see how double life effects both of them moving forward, mainly Scott, he’s scared of hurting anyone the way he hurt pearl, so he goes out of his way to let his friend and allies kill him over and over so he can be of use to them, because he’s realised that his life, lives can be used as currency as friendship as a way to get people not to hate him. He’s putting himself on sale.
He does it in secret life too giving up his lives his hearts his safety, just to be of use. He can’t even bring himself to really care when people betray him, because hey he betrayed Pearl worse right?
Pearl is so much more unhinged after double life too so much more reckless. Because why try and stay hinged when you’re going to loose everything anyways?
And coincidentally all of pearls allies start dying before her, and Everytime it happens she’s just reminded of double life, of that tower, of everything bad that ever happened. And because of that she can’t bring herself to forgive Scott yet. Because she doesn’t feel loved yet.
And then wild life comes, and they team together again, and yes it starts with some bickering and fighting but they needed to get that out they needed to bring it up so they can let it go.
Pearl has her own issues with Gem that season sure, but she gets something close to closure with Scott. Not proper closure, because they’re in a death game, they don’t have enough time they never will. But she gets a real end, and gets a chance at a real friendship with Scott again. She even gives him her hoodie when he turns red. They stick together they’re friends again.
Pearl doesn’t hate him!! He doesn’t belittle her!! I keep seeing “oh Scott didn’t trust Pearl oh he’s treating her badly because he’s keeping her on a leash and not enabling her chaos!!” HES WORRIED ABOUT HER??? HE WANTS HER TO BE SAFE AND KEEP THE TEAM SAFE AND THE ONLY WAY IN SCOTTS BRAIN IS TO CONTROL??? HE DOESNT NOT BELIEVE SHE CAN DO IT HES JUST WORRIED FOR HER FUCK OFF MAN
Anyways, and then Scott dies before Pearl and she doesn’t have the time for a reaction.
It’s not over for them, it’s not close to being over, but it’s getting better. And they’re BOTH getting a chance to heal, not just Pearl, because Pearl wasn’t the only fucking person that got hurt.
Sometimes I wonder if people watch the series with their eyes closed and volume off because how could you ever believe that Pearl truly hates Scott?
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simpingforbots · 1 day ago
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Idk if you do small oneshots if not I'm sorry
But ever since I saw the a human ended on Cybertron with Megatronus I've been screaming internally by how adorable it was, could you do a small Megatronus x human story where the little human sneaked out and when it came back it was all full of mud and so Megatronus gave them a bath like he does in the "what if a human ended in Cybertron"
hello yes i am happy to do one shot. hope you will enjoy it.
Little heaven
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This is not right. You are not supposed to be here at all. stifling your scream, you jumped out of the way of huge bot, who did not even noticed you, continuing on it’s way while chuting with another bot. You then had to quickly gather your self as to not get stomped to death by another bot, rushing towards the gutters, not caring if you gonna find your self among trash and mud. You stutter a bit, feeling gag coming up and started coughing. How did all come to this?
Well you used to live a peaceful life on earth – working, having your own rented apartment, hell you were even going for promotion until you wee suddenly kidnapped by huge bug like creatures, who kept you for experiments, which were not pretty. One day you managed to escape the ship, only to run in to battlefield between your captors and huge fucking robots. You had to run for cover with all your might, trying not to scream as explosion rung all around you and ground shook. Finally running behind a huge rock, you sight with relief for a moment, looking up and trying to figure out your next step while your heartbeat echoed in your head. It did not last long as one of the biggest bots suddenly took cover behind the same rock and looked down, notisisng you.
Megatronus had to take cover, the fire was to much to take and he need to come up with some kind of tactic, diving for cover behind one of many metal rocks, taking a break for a second until he noticed movement in the corner of his optic. Quickly looking down, expecting a grenade only to find some strange small creature, cowering before his presence. It looked like it was made out of the same thing like Quintessons, but instead this little one did not had metal plating. N fact you looked like nothing like Quintessons, more like a cybertronion in fact. Just made out of flash and with strange things on your head. He had no time to think as an actual grenade landed next to you and quickly grabbed you, surprised for a moment just how small you are and returned the grenade to sender. When all was over and Quintessons ran, he let a sigh of relief, letting his shoulders slump with ease and focus on you, still on his fist pressed against his chest. Slowly pulling his servo away from his chest and unwrapped it, he saw that the strange thing was still alright, just scream and cowering in his hand, not bigger then his digits. Cocking his helm a bit, he nudged you with one of his digits, feeling your soft flesh give in and you whimper from suden touch. He looked up alerting others and changed the grip on you, piking you up by scarf of your clothes, showing you off to others. And with that your fate was sealed. You were brought to place, quickly figure out that those who took you in was some kind of royalty, living in a very-very big place with gold and other luxury. Out of 13 strange robots he seemed to be the tallest and the meanest, well at least when in publick, in privet you found out he was quite soft, choosing to shower you in affection,  tenderness and “love”. You felt like some kind of chihuahua dog to be honest, a candy eye or something like his. All your communication attempts were discarded like gibberish and intelligible, though you did learn how to repeat his name in rough ways, but it was now shown like some kind of party trick to others. You would always be by his side no matter what, meeting, walking or just doing simple boring work, you must be there. You “followed” him around either by ridding his shoulder or ridding a strange floating pad that would never stray away from him, which you honestly did not prefer as your legs would wobble any time you tired to stand up. When you were alone with him, he would take of his mask, showing a surprisingly soft face for someone with his status and would let deep soft rumble when you were brave enough to reach and touch it. He would also pet you time to time with his huge digits, running them across your hair or your back, something that helped him o calm down or relax during boring meetings. You were also provided some kind of armour, small and somewhat resembling his, but you still did your best not to wear it. But now you used it to your advantage. With enough materials, you managed to get time of being alone and snuck out, climbing down a huge tower and getting on to the streets of strange metal city. Though you did not plan this far and had to quickly hide in gutters just to stay alive, silently regretting running away. You slumped against the wall, trying to calm your heart from beating like crazy all while trying to form next step of plan. Surely if you return the big one won’t be to happy to see you like this and learn that you snuck off, on the other hand maybe if you scavenged around a bit more you might find a way home. Nodding to your self, you pushed your self up and strated traversing though pipes, hoping to find a way to the surface.
Megatronus reached his room after another boring meeting, he really did not wanted to sit there without you, but you were asleep in your little nest of pillow so he decided to et you rest. He rumble with joy as he slowly walked up to the nest only to freeze. You were not there, and a strange rope like structure hand down from the edge. You made this to escape. Why? How? When? All sort of questions run though his mind as he looked all over his quarters, trying to find you hiding somewhere. You were not there, leading to the only way he can find you. Piking up a tablet, he turned it on and immideatly got your location. He knew you would do this someday, just not this soon, so he installed a tracker in to your armour, which was a great gift from Solus, he really should thank them. Watching a small red dot on map moved slowly, he resumed you were looking for safe space and with map in hand, left the quarters and ventured down in to Iacon. Of course he immideatly got all the unwanted attention, he just kept walking, following the small dot, guessing you got in to gutter system as he was literally walking on top of you now, silently following. Soon he was left alone by his people and managed to follow you in to the exit, stopping and waititng. It did not even took a click for you to climb out, looking around for any danger, yet failing to see him right behind you, and climb out. You looked horrible and miserable, almost falling over immideatly and trying to get up. He wanted to see what is it you planed, letting out a huff, that gave him away as you turned around so fats he ha to tack a step back. You strated screaming and ran, probably looking for another hole to hide, yet your size gave you a lot of advantage just as many disadvantages, like being small and slow. He quickly wrapped his servos around you, piking you up and heading back, ignoring your weird chatter and kicking and soft punches. You were just upset about being cough for doing something you were not, but for now he was glad you were relatively alright. Returning to his room, he left you in a box, knowing now that your little nest could serve as escape plan as well, leaving to go get some cleaning supplies to help you clean off. Upon his return you were sulking in the corner, refusing to say anything and just let him do what ever he wants, which was much batter then with you fighting him all the way. Piking you up, he easily took the armour of and gently lowered you in to a cube with water getting first layer of muck off, than added the soap and started slowly rubbing the mud of you. Ususaly he would let you do it by your self, knowing how you valued this small moment of privacy and how violently you fought for this, but now it was sort of punishment for running away, not letting you do it by your self at all. When you were done, he wrapped you up in towel and hold you close, just happy that he managed to find you before any harm come to you and quietly pondered if it will be best to make sure you won’t run away again. EVER.
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