#it still baffles me that no one was changed by knowing that. they just weren’t moved. not by their humanity. not by anything

[moonssugar]

all this oppenheimer discourse reminds me of that time in middle school they had us write and essay and make a slideshow about whether bombing japan was necessary with the implication that they wanted us to think it was necessary and made sure that everyone’s essay said it was necessary at the end by always contradicting anyone who said otherwise until they fell in and agreed on presentation day. i mean going around critiquing anyone who was having second thoughts ‘well yeah but the prevention of prolonged war and death of us solider??’ they showed interviews of people from hiroshima and nagasaki who described in detail how they watched their children die under rubble and how people were burned and how people slowly died of radiation poisoning but still felt comfortable ending the class with “it was necessary because the deaths of american soldiers etc etc etc”. even after showing us that. i remember being the one of maybe two or three kids who never yielded to it. propaganda begins early

[helluvapoison]

Hi! I feel a little awkward bc I’ve never asked anonymously but I really wanted to ask this but wasn’t comfortable enough to ask regularly, but I really enjoy your hazbin works and the hyperfixation has been gripping me HARD and I wanted to see what you’d think of a Lucifer x Reader where they have a sort of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts vibes, where Reader is his personal assistant and what your thought on that are?

~✨

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

i put my thoughts at the bottom :3c

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• As his colleague, Lucifer is rather frustrating. He hired you as his personal assistant but won’t let you assist

• In the beginning, the most he’ll ask of you is if you know where something is. The answer is usually in his hand or line of sight. Without making him feel dumb, you simply retrieve it for him

• It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucifer either. He praises you often and in the form of a soft, “What would I do without you?”

• “I’m sure I don’t want to find out, Mr Morningstar.”

• Maybe it takes a minute for the initial “I’m working for the King of Hell” shock to wear off and when it does you realize it was clouding your judgment. Lucifer truly does require your help but he’s incapable of asking for what he needs; it’s up to you to step in and make necessary decisions on his behalf

• That’s what he’s paying you for, right?

• You tell him exactly what’s going to happen before you do it so he’s not caught off guard. He still is. Baffled, really, that you got so ballsy overnight

• Let the banter and boundary pushing begin. Nothing major! You just keep to your word, continuing your courageous streak

• Plucking all the sticky notes off the wall and collecting the ones that were so old they dropped to the floor, you spend an entire day sorting through them. You give his schedule a must needed update and sync it to both your phones so either of you could make changes and be alerted to it

“Why do I need your play-by-play?” He asks teasingly

“So you don’t call me at 4am because you forget I’m not here. Y’know, like last time.”

• Oh yeah, personal space and boundaries cease to exist between you. He’ll sit right next to you, or pull your chair closer to his. When he’s bored, he’ll sit right on your desk

• When he brings you to meetings, which is always because you’re supposed to be focusing on his behalf, he leans in and makes jokes that have you pressing your lips together to be quiet

• “I need to take notes,”

• “And you’re doing great, now jot down how Asmodeus’ shirt is on backwards,” He snickers

• Texting outside your shifts is a regular occurrence. Messages sent back and forth until it’s beyond sleeping hours and you tell him to go to bed

• “See you in 3 hours.” He texts back like he’s counting down (he is)

• Miraculously, you covered all corners of his (rather empty) mansion. Nothing was off limits to you except Charlie’s old room. You made sure dishes left his room or office and made it to the kitchen, checks for the house staff went out on time, supplies were stocked, etc.

• You take paperwork off his desk, screen and divert miscellaneous calls to your phone instead of his, overall taking unnecessary weight from his shoulders. You go as far as to pencil in mealtimes. It’s appreciated even though he’d still forget if you weren’t around

• “I’m beginning to suspect you’re underpaid,” Lucifer partially jokes

• You’re really, really not

• Sure, he spouts his stream of consciousness and it’s up for you to decipher what’s important and what’s just him sharing random details. Yes, he has you sit on his chair while he gestures wildly and explains the mechanics of something you don’t understand just because he’s excited about it. And yes, maybe, you spend too much time in his house than your own

• But you’re disgustingly overcompensated. You thought he made a mistake when you saw your paycheck. If not by actual money, Lucifer spoils you rotten in ways he definitely shouldn’t and doesn’t for his other employees

• “You deserve it for putting up with me,” His voice is laced with more adoration than acceptable, “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

• You haven’t been doing it for the money in a long time

• The two of you have been teetering over the line of professional and inappropriate, praying, begging really, to fall on the side of the latter

• You almost kill him when you say you want to quit. Lucifer’s ready to offer you Hell on a golden platter if you’ll stay

• “It’s not about the money. I-I can’t do this anymore, I feel like a gold digger and I hate it! I don’t want to be your assistant, I want more and I–”

• Lucifer heard more and is struck with the overwhelming urge to kiss you

• “How much more?” He asks instead, voice cracking in anticipation, “If it’s in my power, it’s yours for the taking.”

• “Mr Morning—“

• “You want more? I can give you more. I can give you everything, anything, just tell me what you want. I know I’m a mess but I can be better! I can— I can,” Lucifer scrambles to find something, his wild eyes searching the air between you for anything you haven’t already done for him. He sighs, “I can be better, I promise…”

• “Because I want more too. I want to take you on cheesy dates, I want to have you beside me everywhere I go, I want all of Hell to know you’re mine. I want you to come here and stay here because you want to!” He wheezes and tugs at his collar, “And now I feel like want isn’t a word anymore because I’ve been saying it too much— do you ever do that? You say it over and over again and it starts to.. to…”

• He stares at your hand, placed softly over his to stop him from clutching at his clothes. Oh fuck, he can’t breathe

• “You’re really working for that pride title, aren’t you?” You tease softly, smoothing out the wrinkles in his vest before stealing his other hand, “Tell me more about what you want, Mr—“

• “Lucifer,” He all but begs

• “Lucifer,” You hum and he shivers, “What else?”

• “Don’t leave me,” He breathes, “I’ll be better.”

• “You’re already enough.”

• Painfully aware of how close the two of you have become, Lucifer struggles to keep your eyes locked with his. Your lips look so enticing, they always have

• His voice is quiet, almost broken, when he says, “I—I need you to say it.”

• “I won’t leave you. I’m still quitting though,” You smile, hovering over his lips, “So you’ll have to find a different way to compensate me.”

• “Pfft. Easy peasy,”

• He says nonchalantly as if he hasn’t tripped over nothing imagining your lips on his before. It’s nothing compared to the real thing

• Once again, you’re overcompensated

~

╰(*´︶`*)╯♡ hello hi ✨! you’re getting a kith, c’mere. I absolutely see the vibes you’re going for and I am here for it!

i think tony and pepper are hilarious and adorable but i recognise it isn’t the healthiest of relationships out there. i know that’s not what you were implying at all though! the flirting, the bizarre requests, the shameless spending, the nonstop talking, the nonexistent boundaries, the devotion– yes, i see it i see it i see it!

i don’t think lucifer would raise his voice (not to you, anyways) you could get away with actual murder and that’s before he realizes his feelings for you. he can get rid of a body easily

lucifer may (like tony) forget the day of important dates but when he realizes, he makes up for it completely! he feels awful about it

if you look at something for 3 seconds too long, he’s buying it. if you show him something, he’s buying it. if he thinks you want it, he’s buying it

(like pepper) you definitely do put up with a lot of similar antics behind them though are good intentions and lucifer’s better at accepting fault. so if they genuinely upset you, he’ll find a way to mend it... usually it goes over the top

there’s really nothing lucifer wouldn’t do for you, it just takes some reminding that you’d do the same for him

[fyodoro]

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞 !

-> He’s tough, but can he stay that tough when it’s just him and his beloved?

Ft. Shuji Hanma and Rindou Haitani

Cw) cursing, reader is called crazy once in hanma’s part, mentioned murder in rindou’s, ran’s a little shit, throwing my Rindou Neon Genesis Evangelion enjoyer headcanon in here, kinda corny ngl!!!

: ̗̀➛Hanma

Hanma Shuji should be incapable of loving someone. At least, that’s what anyone who’s met him believes.

Unhinged, violent, cruel, and ruthless. Any word that’s similar to crazy fits Hanma like a puzzle piece. Simply imagining him in a healthy relationship seemed otherworldly.

And yet somehow, there was someone crazy enough to see past all his flaws.

It was bewildering to watch it all unfold. The Hanma Shuji treating someone with humanity and pure respect, without any ulterior motives? Impossible. Was this the same Hanma in the delinquent world?

Apparently it was.

Of course, Hanma kept his cold exterior in public. But he still showed affection with little things, like giving you his jacket in the cold. And if it wasn’t too crowded- he’d more than likely hold your hand.

They were little things, but they baffled everyone around him.

Everyone but you.

This was the Hanma you knew, your Shuji.

You weren’t oblivious to who he was outside of you, it’d take a real fool to be unaware of that side of him. But did that side of him really matter when it wasn’t the one he treated you with?

To say you were worried on some nights he came home late would be an understatement. Yet the second you hear a knock on your door, all you fear washes away and is replaced with hope, rushing to the peephole to check who it is.

And there he is- standing there with that sly grin of his. You waste no time in opening the door for your boyfriend, not a millisecond.

“Shu!” You say, a smile creeping onto your face. But seeing him up close makes it impossible to miss the bruises scattered across his face and knuckles- one more noticeable than the other. “Another fight I see?”

“You know me babe. You gonna let me in, or nah?” You move to the side, allowing him to enter. He looks around for a moment, as if he was taking in a place he’s never seen before. “Somethings different.” He concludes.

“Different? You were here this morning, nothing changed since then.” You rolled your eyes playfully, but Hanma was seriously trying to spot a difference.

“Nope, there’s a difference…”

The way he’s continuously turning his head and squinting in certain directions almost makes him look… funny. If someone who’s never heard of Hanma walked through the door right now, the last thing they’d assume he is would be a delinquent.

For some reason, that made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“I got it, it’s a candle, isn’t it?” The way his eyes light up at the realization makes you giggle. “Pumpkin donuts. I got it last Halloween, but never used it.”

“You mean we got it last Halloween.” He corrected.

“Well who paid for it?”

“You may have paid for it, but I picked it out.”

You stared at each other for a moment, only to break out into a fit of laughter. “Okay- okay. Fine… the candle we got last Halloween.” You giggle.

“That’s better!” He chuckled obnoxiously.

That warm fuzzy feeling in your chest got stronger, and it was only then you realized what it was.

Only you get to see this side of Shuji.

No one else gets to see the relaxed, funny, friendly side of him. It’s a side that’s reserved for you and you alone.

You could stay like this forever, you think. Just standing here watching Hanma genuinely smile and laugh was more than enough to keep you happy.

“Say, you gonna let me treat those wounds of yours this time? Or are you gonna say-“ “A few bruises never hurt me baby. I can sleep it off.” He cut you off with the same old excuse.

“You stubborn little…”

“Ah ah ah, I may be a stubborn little asshole, but…”“you’re my stubborn little asshole.” You finished his sentence for him, a grin making its way onto his face.

Despite your boyfriend’s reluctance, you still treated his wounds. The last time he came home like this he refused to let you help- and you weren’t letting him get away this time.

As much as he complained, saying he was a ‘grown man and didn’t need treatment for bruises’, he enjoyed every bit of it.

As long as it was you taking care of him, he really didn’t mind.

: ̗̀➛Rindou

It was no secret the Haitani brothers were utterly ruthless.

Just before they were teenagers, they already killed a man. Although Ran will insist the kill was just his, anyone else will say they both killed that guy.

But hey, at least they have some fucking charisma. Otherwise they’d be the most insufferable pair known to man. Not only that, but the younger Haitani might not have been able to score the best possible lover for him without that charisma.

Someone who balances him out perfectly.

Ran couldn’t believe it. Sure, the brothers were attractive. Everyone knew that. But you’d have to be real crazy to wanna stick around them after seeing just how unhinged they can be.

Yet somehow, the younger Haitani found someone who was perfectly sane.

“How the hell did you bag someone like them?” Ran whisper shouted in the kitchen, keeping it down knowing you weren’t too far away in the living room.

“Just how deranged do you think I am? I’m much more normal than you y’know.” Ran scoffed at Rindou’s comment, refusing to swallow his pride. “You know what I mean! They’re so… nice. And stunning? Are you paying them?” The younger rolled his eyes.

Sure, maybe you were out of his league by a long shot. But was it really that hard to believe his and yours relationship is a real one? He grumbled as he made his way back to the sofa with snacks for you and him.

“Oh, thanks Rin. You really didn’t have to…” you smiled, and Rindou could feel his cheeks heating up at the sight.

“It was no problem… uh- what movie did you wanna watch?” He asked politely. Ran almost spit his drink out, did his ears deceive him?

“What about The End of Evangelion? I never got a chance to watch it when it came out.” You knew Rindou enjoyed the Evangelion anime, and wanted to get into it more so you two could talk about it without him insisting ‘not wanting to spoil it for you.’

“End of Evangelion it is… I think this is my eighth time watching it.” He chuckled.

“Twelfth, actually.” His older brother corrected him, seemingly appearing out of no where. Rindou groaned in annoyance. Didn’t he tell Ran to leave you two be for tonight?

“Oh, hi Ran!” You greeted. “Hi (Name)! See, Rin? It’s not so hard to greet me, you’re lover right there can do it just fine.” He taunted, watching the way Rindou’s eyes twitched in annoyance with amusement.

“What’d ya want from me?” He groaned.

“Your s/o right there.”

“Excuse me?” He almost yelled, but held back in fear of scaring you off.

“Not like that, man.” Ran laughed. Rindou probably would have ignored it… if it weren’t for the fact you were laughing with him.

It pissed him off. Here he was, trying to have a nice movie night with his s/o. Only to have his brother come in and intrude. “Are you done yet?”

“You tell me. Are you done playing prince charming yet?” You laughed even harder. The two brothers were going back and forth in front of you, and you couldn’t take either of them seriously.

“Whatever, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone now.” The elder waved you two off as he returned to his room, leaving you and Rindou in an… odd… silence.

“About what he said-“

“I don’t think you’re faking anything right now, Rin.” You beat him to it, he thought.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m faking anything.” He started, taking a breath. “Everything I say and do I mean, you’re the only person I’ll ever soften up around.” He finished, shyly looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“I wouldn’t be lying if I said I didn’t like the special treatment.” You giggled.

“Yeah, you better.” He said teasingly, before looking back at the TV screen.

“So about the movie…”

“You wanna watch it for a twelfth time?” You asked, shocked that he’s not sick of it yet.

“My twelfth time, your first.” He chuckled, hitting the play button.

Instead, it was your first time half watching it, as you and Rindou ended up falling asleep halfway through. But who could blame you? Your bound to feel so relaxed in sleepy when basking in someone you love’s arms.

Ran made sure to take a picture before you two woke up, just to tease Rindou about it fir god knows how long.

© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

Prompt 7 with Malleus? And the reader as the ghost? 😳

Visions of the Past; Malleus Draconia

Content; Gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort, pining left unresolved

Content Warning; Reader death (not heavily described)

Word Count; 700+

Please do not put my work into AI. If you would like to see more of my work check out my masterlist!

Time heals all wounds. But Malleus knew that wasn’t true. Yes, time may heal physical wounds, although not always perfectly, but it no longer weeps or festers. Whereas emotional wounds, such as trauma, grief, and anger do not fade or heal in the same manner as a cut would.

Malleus was standing outside the entrance of Ramshackle, once his nightly walking grounds turned to the home of the first person that befriended him for him. The first person who didn’t know or care, even after finding out about his identity, that he was the Malleus Draconia. A magicless human who treated him as they did with others, but with a tad bit more ease, humour, and kindness since they were friends.

Were friends.

His heart knew though that you weren’t just friends. He had felt this emotion before to some extent with his passion for gargoyles, but they paled in comparison to you.

Your brightness. Your laugh. Your little mannerisms that most wouldn’t pay attention to, but he did. 

“Do you think we’ll still be friends when we’re older,” you mused while on one of your nightly walks with Malleus. Malleus furrowed his brow and looked at you quizzically, “Why wouldn’t we be? I have no intention of not being in your life.” You had stopped moving forward and Malleus came to a stop beside you. “Well, I don’t know. You’re a prince, future king, and you might get swapped in royal business and duties…” You pursed your lips, an unpleasant taste in your mouth. “And isn’t that more important?”  “Do you not like spending time with me?” Malleus’ voice was more sharp, on edge. “NO!” You shouted, the word echoing a bit in the quiet night. “I like spending time with you. I love it!” Malleus looked at you with confusion, and if he were looking at anyone else the way he had been in the past minute, they would have been grovelling, asking for forgiveness. But not you.  “Then why did you bring it up in the first place? Should there not be time, I will simply make it,” he said quietly. A small smile and chuckle replaced the irritated look of moments prior, “I will even make it ‘royal business’ as you put it.” You cough-laughed at his statement, but you only laughed harder when you looked at him to see a baffled expression.  Malleus chuckled lightly, joining your amusement, even though he didn’t understand what was so funny that had you tearing up. You let out a long sigh, recollecting yourself. “Well, I’ll be there then, promise.”

And you had held that promise. Despite both of your hectic lives, you both met at least twice a month. If neither of you had the time? Well, Malleus would just show up outside your place, like old times, and you would both go about the property. Sometimes talking away, and other times in silence, just happy to be next to each other again.

Malleus knew he liked you, loved you even — the way he felt more like himself when he was around you, and a tinge of jealousy made that distinction clear — and he was planning on asking you if you felt the same.

But he didn’t have the chance.

He would never have the chance.

He knew that he wouldn’t have many years with you, but he had planned that it was old age that took you away from him.

Ramshackle had not changed, but Malleus could still smell the scent of soot, even after all of these years. The foyer stopped, and Malleus looked into the gloom of the burnt ruins.

“ … do you remember our promise?”

He had been coming here, once a fortnight, asking the same question and hoping for an answer. Every time all he ever received was the sound of rotting wood and the scampering of mice.

He took in a breath and was ready to leave, to go back to his duties, but he stopped.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

He couldn’t see you, but you were here. And that was all that mattered to Malleus. That although you may not physically be here anymore, he had not lost you.

Time may heal all wounds, but Malleus didn’t want this wound to heal. He didn’t want to lose you, not again.

. . .

. . .

A/N; Hope you enjoyed what I came up with for this combination! And *hands you an emotional dragon fae that misses you*

~~~~

Tags; @afunkyfreshblog @bloomstruck @eynnwwyjth @keii-starz @lucid-stories @ryker-writes @syrenkitsune @the-v-lociraptor @twistwonderlanddevotee @xxoomiii

[beforeimdeceased]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[riverlikethelake]

hello author! how are you doing? may I request enemies to lovers, sully!reader X Aonung where he let his hair down for the first time and the reader falls in love right away 😳😳

Two eyes, a hundred words.

This is a really late answer but here you go<3

Kind of trying out a new writing style plus I wrote this during my lunch break so don't judge me too hard😭

requests are open <3 (I promise they'll be better than this, had an ungodly amount of work to do this week)

You can’t say you were thrilled to have to move to a new home, but you understood and decided to accept it. When the Sullys offered to take you with them, well Jake and Neytiri offered, Lo’ak and Kiri demanded it of you, you couldn’t say no.  

You had been inseparable from the Sully family for as long as you can remember, specifically Lo’ak and Kiri. From the moment you could both crawl, you were attached at the hip. You were and Lo’ak both adventurous and admittedly reckless. Lo’ak was thoughtless, and you were impulsive, which led to many hours bonding in the healer's hut together. 

With Kiri, you could just sneak away, find a carved-out hole in a tree, and sit there for hours with her, you’d confide in eachother and wander around the forest together.  You practically lived with them even before you were ‘apart of the family’, Neteyam always referred to you as his sister and Tuk was trailing behind you as soon as she could walk.  

After your parents died, you became insanely protective of the Sully kids, fussing over Lo’ak after he’d come back from a raid covered in bruises and blood. “I pray I will not end my brother before he gets himself killed!” You’d snap, but of course everyone knew you were just worried, you had already lost one family, you could not bear to lose another. 

So, you followed them to the reefs, sitting in front of Lo’ak on his ikran as you flew across the ocean. You didn’t have an ikran of your own, you weren’t ready for your iknimaya before the humans showed up, and once the war broke out you were too busy helping Kiri and Mo’at in the healer's hut to go through with it. 

You had fallen asleep against your brother many times, he’d tease you about it when you woke up, but he’d try to be as still and silent as possible while you were asleep, although he’d never admit it. 

Even with the long naps you took, you still weren’t ready for how exhausting your arrival would be. You knew asking for Uturu would cause a commotion, but when two Metkayina boys circled you and your siblings, yanking at your brothers tails, you wrapped your arms around your body, closing in on youself knowing you couldn’t make a scene. 

You glared at the boys though, making one of them stop in their tracks as they locked eyes with you. You kept his gaze, challenging him before a girl walked up and pushed him, telling him to knock it off. You were thankful for the girl, especially as she turned out to be the Olo’eyktan’s daughter and happily showed you around the village. 

- 

You really did not like Ao’nung, how his sister could be so sweet and accepting, while he was a cowardly jackass was baffling to you. He did nothing to help at swimming lessons, only making fun of you and showing off, you can’t deny that he was attractive, but that didn’t change how annoying he was. 

He was an idiot you thought, not only that but he was an asshole. At least Rotxo joked around and talked with you and your siblings, Ao’nung just saw it as below him. You admit, it was funny when Lo’ak fell off his Ilu, you laughed pretty hard, but only you’re allowed to do that. And you stated as much when you whacked Ao’nung in the back of the head for laughing. 

When it was your turn with the Ilu you didn’t fall off, but you somehow ended up wrestling with her underwater as she swam, eventually you got the connection under control. Though, you had a hard time controlling yourself when Ao’nung made a comment about you not being able to give up your ‘aggressive forest girl ways’. 

You got right in his face and asked him to repeat himself, his stupid grin and the way his head tilts making your breath hitch. God he was annoying. 

Kiri was the only one in your family that seemed to not have any trouble adapting. She was always off on her own admiring the plants and fish, sometimes even at the bottom of the reef just, laying there?? You felt a sense of pride and smugness when she showed up on an Ilu, having been apparently approached and chosen by the animal, you raised your chin to Ao’nung as he scoffed. 

Eventually you started to get better at your breathing, you we able to hold your breath far longer than Lo’ak and Neteyam. Not that that was a high bar, but you still rubbed it in Ao’nung’s face as often as you could. 

- 

You were sitting on the walkways with Lo’ak, teasing him about his crush on Tsireya when you spotted Ao’nung and his friends giving Kiri a hard time, Lo’ak had noticed too and you both rushed over to intervene. 

“Hey” your brother shouted, they turned to look at the two of you. You reached over and snatched Kiri’s hand away from Ao’nung’s, glaring at him. “Leave her alone.” you stated. 

Lo’ak got in between you and the boys, but they weren’t intimidated. “Oh look, it’s another four fingered freak and their tsiki.” Ao’nung taunted, his friends grabbing Lo’ak’s hand and at your tail. 

“Kalweyaveng” you hissed, pushing Ao’nung away. You heard Kiri yell but you didn’t process anything other than Ao’nung ugly fucking smug face until Neteyam pushed him away, putting himself between the fight. 

“You heard her” he got in Ao’nung’s face “leave them alone.”  

One of the boys hissed but Ao’nung put a hand up silencing him.  

“And from now on, I need you to respect my sisters.” Neteyam jabbed his finger to Ao’nung’s chest. Smirking, he put both his hands up and backed away slowley. 

Neteyam turned around and ushered you and Kiri away, nodding for Lo’ak to come, but as you were walking away, you heard them calling you ‘an entire family of freaks’ 

Lo’ak stopped in his tracks and turned around, Neteyam urged him to come but Lo’ak said he had it handled. He walked up to Ao’nung and started showing off his hand, talking about how it could do something cool. 

You smirked; this was a bit he had used on you many times before. You laughed as he punched Ao’nung till he fell over on his ass. “It’s called a punch bitch” 

You didn’t hesitate to run past Neteyam and tackle one of the boys before they reached Lo’ak, sitting atop their chest serving serval blows to their face before Ao’nung pulled you off by your hair. He threw you to the ground and started pulling at your tail before Neteyam tackled him, leaving you to jump on Rotxo’s back, who had a hold of Lo’ak. 

You grabbed him by his ears, pulling and biting his cheek. The boy you had punched earlier grabbed your tail and started pulling, you kept your hold on Rotxo causing you to all topple over, pulling each other along in the sand. 

“my TAIL!” “AGh MY EARS” “LET GO OF MY TAIL SKXQWNG”  

- 

“What did I tell you?!” Jake was furious, you hung your head avoiding eye contact. 

“It was my fault sir-” Neteyam tried to take the blame but Jake shut him down. “No you didn’t, and you gotta stop taking the heat for these knuckle heads.” 

You frowned as he gestured to you and Lo’ak. “They were making fun of Kiri!” “We were protecting out sister!” You finished his sentence. “They called her a freak.” Lo’ak stated, watching Jake’s expression falter. 

“Go apologize” He stated, Lo’ak protested but he cut him off and looked to you. “Both of you.” you rolled your eyes as Lo’ak stomped out, you stared at Jake for a moment before huffing and following Lo’ak. 

Both of you apologizing at once would probably seem too ingenuine, not that you cared if you actually made peace, but you knew this was important for your family, so you walked the other way when a split in the paths came. You found Tsireya teaching some young Metkayina children how to breath properly, you didn’t want to interrupt but you had nothing else to do so you sat down next to her and silently watched the lesson. 

The children were curious about your family, but they weren’t discriminatory like some of the people older than them, so they looked at you in awe, but you weren’t uncomfortable. Tsireya welcomed you to her lesson, even using you as a guide and had you speak about your experience learning. 

Once the lesson ended the children swarmed you, bombarding you with questions and asking you to swim and play with them, you obliged and entertained them with exaggerated stories of the jungle, and tossing them around in the water. 

Neteyam approached you, smiling as you lifted a kid up and placed a kiss on their cheek after they whispered something about thinking how beautiful your hair was in your ear.  

“I see my sister has been stolen from me” He exclaimed exaggerated, you rolled your eyes. “Do you know where Lo’ak is?” he asked casually. 

Placing the kid down and splashing water on the others, you shrugged. “He went to apologize to Ao’nung last I saw him” you watch at him as his face goes stiff and he walks off. 

- 

You sat on the back of Neytiri’s Ikran as you flew around the island looking for Lo’ak, she was the only one who had gotten you to calm down and stop trying to attack Ao’nung after you found out what happened. 

Jake had caught you midair when you lunged for the boy, cursing at him and calling him all the human insults you knew. You’d get a scolding later, but you knew the heat would fall on Jake for teaching you those words in the first place. 

You were seething with anger, but your worry for your brother outweighed it by a landslide. 

You didn’t have to tell Neytiri when the horn was sounded, signaling Lo’ak’s return. You hopped off and started searching him for any injuries as Neytiri scolds him. You glared at Ao’nung as his father forced him to take a knee. 

When Lo’ak took the blame for Ao’nung you were going to scream at him, but he gave you that look, the one he always used when he really meant ‘don’t push it’, so you shut your mouth and stayed quiet. 

You followed him as he walked away, getting ready to interrogate him, when Ao’nung caught up to you both. 

“Why did you speak for me?” He asked  

You pinched Lo’ak’s ear “Yeah, I'd like to know that too” you added. 

He swatted your hand away and looked at Ao’nung. “Because I know what it’s like to be one big disappointment to your dad” 

Your ears turned down, you knew how Lo’ak felt, you had spoken about it many times, but your heart still broke every time he brought it up. 

Lo’ak sped up his pace, passing you and Ao’nung. You both stopped in place, watching him walk away. After a moment you looked at him and glared before going after your brother. 

But the image of his face, covered in guilt, wouldn’t leave your mind all night. 

Lo’ak told you about Payakan before anyone else, you sat outside the Marui on the edge of the dock, kicking your feet as he told you about the entire ordeal in detail. 

You just really wanted to beat the shit out of Ao’nung, hell any of his friends would do. Of course, reading your mind, he made you promise not to start any fights with them, you agreed reluctantly.  

He didn’t say you couldn’t finish them, just that you couldn't start them. 

- 

The next day you noticed how much more welcoming Ao’nung had become to your family. He wasn’t holding you all with open arms, but it was a step up. You caught him looking at you several times throughout the day, every time you’d avoid frowning at him, or you just couldn’t. He had this look in his eyes that pacified you every time you felt the urge to hiss at him, but at the same time it annoyed the shit out of you. 

Every time he’d help you with your breathing you felt like fire was on your skin, he’d make a comment about your heart beating fast and you’d respond by telling him that if he stopped being annoying then you’d have a moment to be calm 

The one thing you could both agree on is making fun of Lo’ak, mocking him when he stuttered or said something stupid around Tsireya. Other than that, you’d huff and turn the other way if you crossed paths with him, which was easy as he didn’t seem too eager to speak to you either. 

But that didn’t stop the lingering eyes and quick glances at each other, there was something about communicating through your eyes that was different. You’d make fun of him and he’d find faults in whatever you did or said, but when you spoke through your eyes it was a whole different story. 

You liked looking at him, you just wish sometimes he’d keep his mouth shut. 

- 

You don’t know how you got here, one moment you were weaving seaweed and leaves together for a present for Tuk, the next you were on top of Ao’nung, hissing at him as he held your wrists to stop you from punching him. 

“Stop! I am sorry!” He shouts, throwing you off him. 

“Take back what you said skxqwng” you yell, scrambling to your feet to pounce on his again. 

He holds his hand up, “Ok ok I take it back.” He said, how he rolled his eyes audible in his voice. You hissed, keeping your eyes on him. 

You tried to keep civil when he initially approached you, but he started asking why you followed the Sully’s since you weren’t their family, you ignored him till he made a comment about how your parent must not have wanted you.  

“Keep your mouth shut next time you want to speak on things you know nothing of.” you seethed. He chuckled 

“What? Touchy subject?” 

You raised your chin and tilted your head. “Yeah, I’d think that dead parents are a sensitive topic for anyone” You resisted the urge to smirk as you watch his face drop, you turn and pick up your project as you sit back down. 

You feel his eyes on the back of your head, burning and pleading your you to turn around, hear what he has to say, look in his eyes. But you don’t, you’ve learned to brush things off easily, it’s hurting your family that gets you holding long term grudges.  

He sits next to you and mutters out an apology as you continue to weave the materials. “I don’t expect better, so don’t bother” you shrug. 

An awkward silence falls between you, he rubs the back of his neck and asks you about what you’re making. 

“It’s for Tuk, she’s growing and will need a new tweng” you state, your expression and mood start to soften as you think about your siblings. 

“I am… sorry for what i did to your brother” He explains awkwardly. You stop your movements and raise a brow. 

“You have an odd way of showing it” you mutter before turning back to your work “And it’s my brother that deserves an apology” 

He tells you he already apologized to him and your parents before he stumbled upon you, you hum in response. You continue to weave but out of the corner of your eye you see him scratching his head. 

“You got sand in my hair” He murmurs with a smirk, noticing you looking at him. You stare at him blankly, he reaches for his bun, unwrapping the braid that held it up. Your breath hitched as his hair fell. 

His braids were long and rested on his back, he tussled them to get the sand out, causing a few to fall past his shoulders, hanging in front of his chest. You didn’t realize you were staring till you locked eyes with him. He was cute, you had admitted that long ago, but this was different.  

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him even as you saw the teasing smirk form on his lips. “Like what you see forest girl?” He drawled, leaning in closer. 

If you reached out, you could touch his braids. 

“You are as attractive as you are egotistical” you enjoyed watching him chew his lip as he decided how to respond, either way it would be a blow to him. 

You couldn’t ignore how your heart sped up, you watched him chew on his lip, it annoyed the shit out of you, you wondered how he’d react if you kissed him to make him stop. 

You’d never admit how you noticed little things about him, how he talks with his hands, the way his eyes widen when he gets an idea, or how he smiles just like his mother 

He’s still annoying as shit, he’s a jackass and being infatuated with him doesn’t change that you still hate him. 

“You’re as pretty as you are bitchy” he says, snapping you out of your thoughts. 

He leans forward, tilting his head as he gets in your face.  

You think you have to speak to Norm and Max because you have surely gone insane.  

You hate him, that’s just a fact 

But maybe you’re a little more than infatuated… 

[gojoandtojisleftnut]

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 - 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: gojo, toji, nanami, geto x fem!reader

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Gojos isn’t really cheating but you get it. -> pet names, mentions of cheating but not real, established relationships.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

This morning you woke up feeling heartbroken. You immediately started thinking about the dream you just woke up from. The image of your boyfriend being obsessed with someone else, still prominent in your head. It’s even worse that you woke up and didn’t find him next you. Once Gojo spotted you walking in the kitchen a little while later, his face instantly lit up and he started walking towards you with his hands wide open, waiting for a hug. His smile though, fell when you ignored his advances. “What’s wrong mochi?” “nothing”. He takes a good look at your face and the little pout your lips are forming and grabs you by your waist, pulling you close to him. “Tell me what did I do, please” “You picked her over me in front of my face, and it really hurt cause you were obsessed with her. You didn’t even let me talk to her cause you didn’t want to leave her side.” He takes note of the fact that you’re about to cry but he’s so confused “who? And when? What are you talking about?” “My sister. In my dream we weren’t together exactly but-” your explanation was cut off by his laugh “angel you’re mad at me for that?” You didn’t speak, you just nodded and he laughed even more “oh baby you’re so cute. You’re my only girl. My whiny little girl. I would never pick someone else. Don’t be sad please.” He kisses your head apologizing and holding you in his arms. Let’s just say you forgave him but still thought about it all day long.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

You’ve been giving Suguru the silent treatment all day long. He’s so confused about it he even called Satoru for help. You’re currently sitting on the couch watching tv when he decides to approach you one more time. “Babe, did I do something wrong? I washed the dishes like you asked me to and did the laundry-” “you cheat on me and think that washing three plates and a few socks will make everything okay?” you snap. Suguru is so confused, he stares into the wall for a few seconds. “Huh? What are you talking about? When did I cheat on you?” He’s now sitting next to you, his body fully turned towards you “last night in my dream. You fucked another bitch right in my face”. “Babe, you’ve been ignoring me all day because I cheated on you in your dream? That’s why you smacked me last night in the face?” “Mhm” “you know I would never. Don’t be silly pretty girl.” He leans into your neck and gives you a small kiss “c’mon give me kiss, I missed you. I swear I’ll never cheat on you in your dream again.” “Promise?” “Promise”. You eventually give in and kiss him back never admitting that you missed talking to him as well. As for Geto he couldn’t wait to tell Gojo what just happened.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji noticed your change in attitude the moment you woke up. Your eyes seemed sad and a little frown was plastered on your face. “Babygirl, tell me what’s wrong. You’ve been like this all day. Who do I need to kill?” “Yourself” you muttered “What?” The older male was baffled. “What do you mean?” “You told her you love her and started kissing her and then-” tears were welling up in your eyes at the thought of yesterday’s dream. “-in my dream” Toji holds in a laugh trying not to make you feel like he’s mocking you. “c’mere babygirl” he grabs you and settles you onto his lap, taking your phone out of your hands. “I’m sorry for whatever I did in that crazy little brain of yours okay? Daddy loves you so much I would never hurt you. Don’t cry beautiful.” Your boyfriend wiped your tears away kissing your nose. You give him a little nod and instantly snuggle up against him until you fall asleep “I love you so much” he whispers in your hair. He didn’t mind staying like that for the rest of his life if it meant that you were happy and reassured.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Poor Nanami. He’s been trying to kiss you for the past 20 minutes but he’s been rejected every time. “What is wrong darling? You can talk to me you know that.” He’s searching for your eyes, but yours are glued onto your cereal in front of you. A sigh escapes your mouth until you look at him, dropping your spoon into your white bowl. “I just feel very weird. I had a dream last night and you were with another girl. Right in front of my face. And it hurts.” “Oh love..” Nanami comes around the kitchen island putting a strand of hair behind your ear while his pointer and middle finger lift your chin up. “You know I would never. The only one I see is you. The only one I’ll ever see is you sweetheart. Okay? Don’t be sad and please don’t reject my kisses again.” “Okay I’m sorry.” You whisper “No my love I’m sorry for making you feel like that, even in your subconscious.” Nanami always knows how to make you feel loved and appreciated. Never getting tired of reassuring you if it meant seeing you smile again.

[shipperssafehaven]

Earth 42 Miles Morales x plus size black reader hcs

As well intentioned as they were, your family’s compliments always tended to be on the backhanded side 

Like whenever your thin cousins were getting attention from boys you had interest in, you had some relative whispering in your ear, “Looks ain’t everything, you’ll find you a nice boy.”

Or when you wore crop tops or shorts, they’d eye you like CRAZY and question you relentlessly: 

“You wearing that?”  “Yep.”  “You sure you don’t want a jacket with that or something?” 

It never got to you per se, just made you feel like you should be insecure even though you weren’t. You didn’t really mind your looks or your body for that matter, but every time they pointed out that you had a beautiful personality or that your shape was “unique”, a small part of you thought maybe you weren’t… physically attractive.                                                     

Enter Miles Morales

You met him at a party of all places 

Originally, you came with some friends who practically forced your attendance but they all ended up splitting up after some guys came up to you in an attempt to get to them.  

And you played along despite your irritation because you knew damn well tagging along was a bad idea and you were already prepared to sneak out the door when they were distracted 

So here’s how it played out:  your head was hung as you had a foot out the door, fully ready to leave. Only you stopped because you were hit with a sudden prickle of awareness that someone was staring... and not regular staring either. It was like someone was burning a damn hole in your head 

You did a complete 180 and turned back around to the party and through a bunch of dancing teenagers, you saw him 

He was leaning against a wall, head tilted and all. He whispered something to his homeboy but still managed to keep his gaze locked solely on you  

 And you couldn’t lie... it had your stomach in knots 

Like you were down bad from A LOOK

But in all fairness, no one had ever looked at you like that before and what made it crazier was that he WASN’T looking away ?? And now in return, you found yourself not being able to either ??

Eventually though, after five seconds or five minutes (you weren’t sure), your friend saw you near the door and called out to you causing you to finally advert your eyes else where 

“You leaving already?”  “Yeah.”  “You sure?”  “What do you mean--” 

She was grinning, gesturing back to the boy’s direction and you were baffled to see him quite literally pushing people outta the way to get to you before you could leave 

It would’ve taken a person at least 3 minutes to get through that crowd but he did it in a total of 10 seconds, and that’s when you knew everything was about to change 

And the rest was history                                                          

From the moment he met you, Miles was mesmerized by you. Every curve. Every smile. Every laugh. Every word you spoke. It took one night for him to know you were it 

You had this man listening to Jodeci on the walk home, LIKE HE FELL IN LOVE instantly 

After talking to you for only an hour, he was asking to take you out

“Let me take you out on a real date, Ma. Without all the noise and people.” “Boy, I’ve known you for an hour. You don’t think it’s too soon?” “Einstein did say time was relative y’know.”  “Miles... I don’t know.” “Look, mami, I’m askin’ you for one date. That’s it. You like me, we’ll see where it goes. You don’t, just tell me to kick rocks and I’ll fall back.”

 And after one date, he knew you weren’t going anywhere so he introduced you to his mom

“Oh, Miles, she’s beautiful.” “Ain’t she.”

And after introducing you to Mama Morales (who loved you deep), he asked you to be his girl despite being nervous cause he’s never been serious about anyone before 

“I’m not tryna scare you or rush you, mami. I just know what I want and that’s you.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

You folded immediately and kissed that boy let’s be honest. You stood no chance when he was talking like that c’mon now. In his mind, you were a sure thing, and it left you stunned to know that                                                   

Being with Miles was a lot different than you expected. Initially, you thought he appeared cold and closed off. He seemed like he held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you figured maybe that’d follow into your relationship

 But nah

Miles Morales in any universe was soft with his girl 

Every time he saw you, he’d greet you by taking your face into his hands and gently kissing your forehead. And I mean EVERY TIME

His arm thrown over your shoulder on every walk home? Yep. Holding your hand under the table the first time he met your family? Of course. His fingers pulling you close by your belt loops just to place a delicate peck to your cheek? Absolutely. Him practically racing your ass to the door so he can hold it open for you? Yeah. 

Like that boy would die for you without hesitation 

He was surprisingly open too 

He would lay his head in your lap and tell you stories about his dad for hours and it’d usually end with you wrapping your arms around him after wiping a stray tear or two 

“Sometimes I get scared that he wouldn’t like who I turned out to be.” “Don’t let that live in your head, baby. If anything you told me about that man was true then there’s nothing in this world you could do to make him stop loving your crazy ass.”  “I hope so, Ma. I really do.”  “Just take my word for it.”  “He would’ve loved you, you know.”  

Your connection only got stronger by each passing day                                                       

Now...  back to your family. They were SHOCKED when they met Miles. Those backhanded compliments went from you being able to brush them off to fully getting under your skin 

And the reason it stung so damn bad was because they meant well 

Your aunt nearly tripped on her own two feet when that boy came to the family cookout. She was immediately pulling you to the side to ask how you managed to pull it off 

Then you had your mama coming to your defense with a: “My baby’s just got a great personality. That’s all that matters at the end of the day.”

And she was right but... damn. It felt like they didn’t think it was possible for someone like Miles (or anyone, really) to think you were cute. It hurt the little girl inside you that was buried with insecurities 

Growing up as a bigger girl, people never showed interest in you like that because you didn’t fit the “norm” 

Sure, there were a few boys who eyed you, but they never made it a point to step up to you and ask you out. They were always too embarrassed or cowardly 

 Then Miles came along and erased all that

 Whenever you tried to deny food, he’d kiss his teeth and give it to you anyway 

“One thing you not gonna do is starve my girl.” 

Or when you’d be looking in the mirror, muttering something under your breath about your figure, he’d come up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist letting his head rest on your shoulder

“Watch how you talk ‘bout my woman, mami.” 

Or when you subconsciously laid your arms over your stomach so they were covering it, he’d grab your hand without saying a word 

With Miles, you had to unlearn all the habits you picked up and it was a challenge at first but you were better for it. He loved you so much that it made you wonder why you didn’t always love yourself

So when your family was in your damn ear, acting all surprised you cuffed him, you were folding back into your old self a lil bit

You managed to ignore them 

... until you were sitting at the dinner table with Miles by your side 

Your aunt was firing question after question at him, and he patiently answered each one 

Then she pulled out the one that had the room falling silent and your heart aching

“Well, how’d she get your attention? I always pictured [name] with a bigger boy- you know, someone like her... who could... keep up with her and... hold her.”

The hand that was holding yours under that table got tight real quick lmao 

You could tell he was biting the fuck out of his tongue and his jaw was clenched for a split second. You were half scared he was about to pick your ass up outta your chair to prove her wrong 

“The only person I picture her with is me so nah, I don’t know. As for how she got my attention? She had it from the moment I saw her. What you should be askin’ is how I got hers. God knows I ain’t deserving of it.” 

You had the biggest lump in your throat and your eyes were watering, and all you could do was send him a wavering smile 

Your feelings for him ran deep but it was in that moment that you knew you loved him 

At that point in the relationship, you were happier than ever. But those comments made by the people you love most created a doubt that wouldn’t let up 

There was this lingering thought in the back of your head that Miles wasn’t attracted to you  

You were sitting on his bed one day while he was sitting at his desk drawing something in that book of his 

When you finally couldn’t handle the loudness of your thoughts anymore, you straight up asked him to talk you down 

Immediately, he was sitting in front of you taking your hands into his. When he asked you what was wrong, you simply frowned 

“Do you find me attractive?”

You might as well have slapped that boy. He was stunned. He tilted his head to the side and looked at you like you lost your damn mind 

“You being serious, Ma?” “Extremely.” “Why you even askin’ me that?” “Why aren’t you answering?” “Cause it’s a stupid question. You know you the most beautiful woman to me.”

You looked down at that and shook your head, feeling bad that outside opinions were starting to make you pick arguments 

Then you had him picking up your chin, forcing you to look at him 

One thing about Miles was he wasn’t going to let you just argue- you were going to properly communicate your feelings one way or the other 

“What would make you think otherwise, huh?” “Look, it took me a long time to like myself. I ain’t nearly as insecure as I was, but sometimes with my family- they just- they just make me feel like I should be, you know?” “I see.”  “And that’s got nothing to do with you, baby. I swear up and down that I feel secure with you. I just know them, and I know they think you’re with me solely cause of my heart.” 

Miles brought both your hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to each 

“You’ve got the most beautiful soul I know, but I ain’t know all that until I talked to you.” 

He got up abruptly and grabbed that book he was drawing in off his desk and then turned back to you. Without a word, he handed it to you. 

You were hesitant to look inside and waited for his nod of approval and once you got it, all you were greeted with when you opened the book was yourself 

Flipping through the pages you saw pages dedicated to your curves alone. You saw every twinkle in your eyes, every smile, every mark on your body, and it amazed you that he viewed you like this.

Choked up, you barely got out, "You drew these?" "I drew you so damn much that I had to get you your own book. Cause like I said, mami, you the most beautiful woman to me."

He crouched down in front of you, returning the smile you so effortlessly wore now. You leaned forward until your forehead was resting on his and let him go on

"Don't get me wrong,” Miles started, placing his hand over your heart, “this is what I love best- it’s my favorite thing. But you wanna know what made me push all them people outta the way to get to you that night? That was pure attraction.” 

All in all, with Miles, you felt more beautiful than ever. And those days when you would question it, he was always there to put to bed all your doubts and insecurities. That boy loved you more than life itself 

[vivemonroi]

Can we talk about Hallelujah and how it represents Solavellan? We've long considered Hallelujah as the hymn for Solavellan, but I never fully realized how deeply it might reflect their love.

I combined lyrics from Leonard Cohen’s version and Rufus Wainwright’s rendition to get a "full picture."

Content spoilers!

I imagine that it’s Lavellan singing to Solas, sharing how she sees him and his story.

Now I′ve heard there was a secret chord That David played, and it pleased the Lord But you don't really care for music, do you? It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth The minor falls, the major lifts The baffled king composing Hallelujah

The "baffled king" could represent Solas and his god-like status during the Evanuris era. Even with his power and knowledge, Solas could be seen as someone vulnerable, struggling with the burdens of his choices. This reflects his grandeur and his inner conflict, showing that despite his god-like status, he was still susceptible to doubt, regret, and even love.

Your faith was strong but you needed proof You saw her bathing on the roof Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

Now that we know more about Solas and Mythal’s relationship, I think that the "her" mentioned is actually Mythal, and Solas was willing to do anything for her. This includes obtaining a physical body and standing by her side no matter what.

She tied you to a kitchen chair She broke your throne, and she cut your hair And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

But eventually, Mythal leaves Solas, who remains attached to her. She "broke his throne," meaning she pushed him to rebel; she made him cut his hair… and now the guy is bald. Clearly, this represents his betrayal.

The Hallelujah signifies the deepest, most sacred love — he still loved her, even then. But their relationship was ultimately toxic for both of them.

Maybe I've been here before I know this room, I've walked this floor I used to live alone before I knew you I've seen your flag on the marble arch Love is not a victory march It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Now Lavellan is singing about herself and her life before Solas. She was alone, especially after the Conclave and becoming the Herald of Andraste. The Dalish rejected her, and humans weren’t her people — much like Solas himself, upon awakening to a world that was no longer his.

With him, she discovers a love deeper than any she has known, she realizes that loving someone is not a "victory march." Her love for him is filled with pain and bittersweetness. It's hard to love him, yet she love him still.

There was a time you'd let me know What's real and going on below But now you never show it to me do you?

This is about the time they shared during the events of the Inquisition. He taught her about the Fade and the ancient gods, but after Trespasser, he vanished, concealing his true self beneath the mask of Fen’Harel.

And then there’s the line, “you’d let me know what’s real.” Remember what Solas said after they defeated Corypheus, just before he walked away forever?

“I want you to know that what we had was real.”

And remember when I moved in you? The holy dark was moving too And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Both could represent the time they shared or her attempts to reach him after Trespasser. The "holy dark"— maybe the Blight?

You say I took the name in vain I don′t even know the name But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?

She didn’t know his true title, the Dread Wolf, a part of his very nature and ancient past. Yet she wonders: if she had known, would it have changed anything?

Now there's a different versions for Lavellan who want to save Solas and Lavellan who want to stop him.

The redeemed and happy version.

There's a blaze of light in every word It doesn′t matter which you heard The holy or the broken Hallelujah

At first glance, it may seem like the holy love, the holy Hallelujah, represents his love for Mythal, and the broken one for Lavellan. But I think it's the opposite: Mythal is a god, yet their love is broken; Lavellan is mortal, but her love for him is divine. Both of them have the power to redeem him, in different ways — one through letting go, and the other through allowing him to be loved.

I did my best, it wasn′t much I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch I′ve told the truth, I didn't come to fool you

The words point directly to Solas, she tries to convince him, that their love can find a way to endure. She isn't like Mythal, she accepts him, his nature. But he's afraid, he's not allowing himself to move forward.

And even though it all went wrong I′ll stand before the Lord of Song With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah

Even in the end, Lavellan still holds onto her love for Solas, with nothing on her tongue but their sacred love.

She is his future.

Now to the grim and sad version

Maybe there's a God above And all I ever learned from love Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you

He deceives her, and all that love has taught her is sorrow. Mythal' and Solas' history confirms that.

She remains steadfast, standing in his path, even if it means his end, because her love and his history taught her "to shoot at someone who outdrew you."

And it′s not a cry you can hear at night It's not somebody who′s seen the light It's a cold and it′s a broken Hallelujah

In this version, their love is doomed to be cold and broken. There is no light. She has given up on him, yet the suffering remains, deep and unrelenting. Still, it is a Hallelujah.

He is all alone, facing his most terrible fear. Yet he believes he deserves it and it's the only thing that can redeem him.

Thank you for reading this! I know I’m being delusional, but it helps me sleep at night.

[souperbloom]

deffo need some subtle sub!luke in my life - maybe y/n and the guys are all talking about sex lives & one of them slips out that luke once mentioned wanting y/n to be in control because it was usually the other way round, so later on they give it a go!

nothing too extreme, just y/n making decisions, praising luke & being on top etc

you don’t even want to know the sound that came out if my mouth when i got this notification.

(if u requested this reveal yourself.) (im joking.) (maybe.)

enjoy <3

————————

secrets, secrets. [L.H.]

🖤 boyfriend!luke

after what seems to be a secret revealed, you and your boyfriend Luke try something new in the bedroom.

a/n: FIRST LUKE SMUT WOOOO. i wrote most of this while listening to classical music which i just think is so silly and on brand for me. i also had a last minute epiphany and changed the title whoops.

CONTENT WARNINGS: references to weed/smoking, angst if you squint, sub!luke (duh), pet names, praise kink, oral (m!receiving), orgasm denial, protected sex.

WORDCOUNT: 5.7k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You hadn’t checked the clock for what seemed to be hours.

The guys and yourself had been wrapped up in a heated discussion sitting in a circle in Calum’s living room, all stoned on your own accord.

The conversation had been flowing since the moment you all sat in your respective places, turning from lighthearted banter into something much more vulgar than you were used to. You all hadn’t seen each other in a few weeks, which meant there was a lot of ‘catching up’ to be had.

But you weren’t quite sure how the simple conversation of ‘how have you been?’ morphed into something along the lines of: ‘have you ever had a dirty dream about me?’

"You’re lying! I can see it in your eyes!" An eager Michael shouts across the room at his dear friend, and your boyfriend, Luke. You watch the entire ordeal unfold perched atop Luke’s restless thigh.

He tries to hide a measly smile, as Michael has caught his bluff.

"Okay, fine… It was one time. Nothin’ to fuckin’ write home about."

"How does that even happen?" Calum, baffled, rubs his hand on his chin.

"It means he thinks about ya’ before he goes t’sleep," says Ashton confidently, motioning towards Luke with a cheeky grin.

"No! That’s not— no."

"Luke, c’mon. Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure we’ve all had some pretty fucked up dreams about each other." Michael tries his hand at consoling your boyfriend, whose cheeks were now glowing red.

"I’m not embarrassed. You just— you forced it out of me. A man’s allowed to have secrets, y’know."

Secrets.

It always came back to telling secrets.

You’d like to think that you had a pretty open and honest relationship with your boyfriend, as well as his best friends.

But there were still some things about them that you didn’t know.

And you were afraid you were about to find them out.

"Speakin’ of secrets…" Ashton begins, adjusting his posture to rest his elbows on his knees, "…I’ve got one."

Bingo.

"Go ahead. This is a safe space," you say teasingly, trying not to acknowledge the fact that you had been so high for the majority of this conversation that you had completely forgotten to speak.

"Ashton’s got a seeecreeeet." Calum teases Ashton in a singsongy tone, but Ashton’s face was reading more serious than anything. He clears his throat before speaking his mind.

"Call me crazy, but takin’ on the submissive role in bed has gotta be one of the greatest things on Earth. And if ya’ haven’t tried it, then you’re not livin’ right."

You quirk your brow, and take a look at the rest of the room. Each of the guys’ faces were contorted into a different stage of grief.

Michael was amused, clearly. His eyes were wide and glassy like he had just witnessed one of the Seven Wonders. Calum’s jaw was practically touching the floor, trying to bite back a smile that was so obviously hard to hide.

And then, there was Luke.

He wasn’t making a face— his expression was unreadable. The only thing you saw was his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. He swallowed hard, and you noticed that.

"Dude… what? I did not expect that from you…" Michael was still in awe of his friend, as he cupped his cheek with his hand.

"Don’t make assumptions, Mikey. You only live once."

As much as you wanted to say you were shocked, you honestly weren’t. You didn’t know a whole lot about Ashton’s sex life, but this didn’t surprise you. He’s the kind of guy to try anything once.

"Well? Don’t be a prude… Tell us what happened."

"Y/N—" Luke blurts, seemingly attempting to stop this conversation from unfolding.

"What? Am I wrong for being curious?"

"No, no— I agree with Y/N," says Michael, "Since you wanna rave about your endeavors as a submissive princess… Tell us all about it."

Michael’s sly comment earns a snort from Luke, who had been trying to remain steely faced since the moment he had called him out for having sexual fantasies about him. You smile to yourself, eyes darting between Ashton and your boyfriend as their stare down commences.

"What’s so funny over there?" Ashton quips.

Your boyfriend’s eyes shoot down to his lap. "Nothin’."

"Ash, get on with it." Michael was fed up, and ready to hear all about what Ashton was so persistent about.

You can’t help but stifle a giggle as Ashton lets out a sigh. He was taking this a lot more seriously than you thought he would.

"I’m not sure what came over me— but there was this one time. I guess I was feeling particularly lazy er’ somethin’, but I asked her to take over for the night. I won’t get into the nitty gritty but let’s just say; it changed my fuckin’ life."

"I am way too high to be talking about this right now." Calum says, his eyes wide as he is still processing everything.

Ashton continues, "Somethin’ about the feeling of your fate lying in your lover’s hands is just so… exhilarating. You never know what’s gonna happen next— you learn to expect the unexpected… It’s fuckin’ great, man."

Upon Ashton's admission, your seat in Luke's lap shifts slightly. He adjusts you, pulling you closer into his torso and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"Still can't picture it, but... I believe ya'," says Michael with a nod of approval. You laugh, feeling your boyfriend's fingertips drumming against your stomach.

"You guys ever tried it? Don't mean to pry but, as Y/N said, this is a safe space."

The room goes pin-drop quiet. Nobody wanted to speak up; not you, not Luke, not anybody else. It seemed as though this conversation had died out quicker than it came to be.

"Oh, come on. You guys are the freakiest fucks I know. Seriously? None of you?" Ashton presses the group for answers, his eyes landing on you. But you just shrug.

"I'm always on the bottom, Ash. You're preaching to the choir."

"Oh trust me, we know."

"Cal—" Your boyfriend huffs, cutting off his friend and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Confused, your eyes search around the room for any sign of an answer. You seemed to be out of the loop, which was unlike you in these kinds of situations.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" You can’t help but get a little defensive, now zoning in on the feeling of your boyfriend’s fingernails anxiously biting into your waist.

"Nothing! He means nothing..." Luke tries to defend, his voice a bit pitchy.

You bite back a smile. “Secrets, secrets are no fun…"

"Unless they’re shared with everyone, fuck, I know! But you don’t have to—"

Calum butts in, "Mate, relax. I’m just messing around."

"No, no— don’t give me that bullshit. What were you trying to say Cal?"

You weren’t sure why, but feeling left out of some sort of inside joke or secret was making you angry. Your temper was mellowed from smoking, yet this whole back and forth was getting to you a little more than you’d like to admit.

Luke lets out a sigh from behind you, dropping his chin on your shoulder in defeat. He didn’t feel like arguing anymore, with the rest of the room dead quiet as they wait for Calum to speak.

Calum on the other hand was holding back a high smile. A look of ‘I know something you don’t know’ was plastered proudly across his cheeks. He rubs his hands together, glancing at Ashton and Michael before he opens his mouth.

"I know you pride yourself on being a pillow princess Y/N, but… Luke wants to see you in charge."

Immediately, your face flushes pink. You didn’t know what you were expecting Calum to say, but it sure as hell wasn’t that.

It was almost as if everyone in the room was trying not to burst into laughter, Ashton and Michael slapping each other’s legs to get the other to stop snickering.

You swallow the newly formed lump in your throat, taking a second to look each of your friends in the eye.

"Well, this is news to me—"

"You fuckin’ suck, Cal." Luke blurts, embarrassment and anger laced through his tone.

As you sit cross legged, still perched on Luke’s thigh, you feel a tap at your lower back. This was your boyfriend’s cue; an unspoken means of telling you 'let’s get the fuck out of here.'

"I’m sorry," Calum laughs, "I didn’t mean t’ hit a nerve with that one."

"Luke, wait—" pleads Michael, who had been rather quiet throughout this whole ordeal.

"I think we’re gonna head out."

Soon enough, you’re rising to your feet, and your boyfriend is quick to follow. He grabs your bag from off of the floor, scooting you closer into the awkward energy of the circle. The rest of the guys just look at you in pity, but you were far too busy in your own head to notice their stares.

Luke wanted you to be in charge?

"Can’t force him to stay if he doesn’t want to," Ashton shrugs, clasping his hands together between his knees, "I guess we’ll see you two tomorrow?"

You purse your lips to reply to Ashton, watching your boyfriend feverishly pack up your belongings and shift you towards the nearest exit. But Luke is quicker than you, cutting right to the chase.

“Yeah, sure. Somethin’ like that."

The entire car ride back to Luke’s apartment was silent.

You were still hung up on how awkward those last few minutes had played out; but a part of you was just dying to know more about Luke’s little secret.

Pushing boundaries was something that you hadn’t yet considered when it came to you and your boyfriend. Your relationship was fairly new; with the both of you still testing the waters and occasionally stepping out of your comfort zones.

Luke was excellent at reading you. He paid very close attention to detail, which was one of the things that had you falling so hard for him in the first place.

But there was a piece of you that felt guilty for prying this all out of him, the way his entire demeanor seemed to drop when Calum spilled his beans. He was embarrassed, from what you could tell. And you weren’t quite sure what to do.

"Luke?" You pop your head out of the bathroom door, your face wash in hand, looking into your master bedroom at Luke splayed across the mattress. He’s still fully dressed, laying flat on his back with his shoes hanging off of the side.

You, however, took it upon yourself to get ready for bed. You took off your makeup, brushed your teeth, and changed into a little plaid pajama-short set to try and get your mind off of the awkward energy still floating in the air.

"Luke…" He hadn’t replied the first time you called out his name, so you tried your luck again. This time, he just sighed, before turning his head to face you.

His sandy blonde curls were haphazardly strewn across the made comforter. His body restless, as he drummed his hands along his abdomen and waited for you to reply.

"Yes?"

"You okay?"

"Mhmm."

Your shoulders drop in defeat, your eyes still lingering on his lanky frame. He lets out a deep breath before looking at the ceiling again, gnawing on his bottom lip mindlessly.

"I’m sorry," you say, "I didn’t mean to embarrass you."

"You didn’t."

His short replies were making your stomach churn. It was unlike the both of you to be so cautious with each other, walking on eggshells in hopes that the other would just let up and speak their mind. You didn’t want to make it worse, either— it seemed like this affected him, and the last thing you needed was for it to be your fault.

You turn back to face the bathroom counter, continuing your nightly skincare. But from behind you, you hear shuffling. The sole of a shoe hitting the floor, then another. The sound of a jacket unzipping, and pooling to the floor as well.

You could see Luke’s slouched posture in the mirror through the doorframe, watching him slowly rid himself of his clothes and leaving him in nothing but his grey t-shirt and pink heart boxers. The ones you gifted him for Valentine’s day.

The water was warm as you started to wash your face, warm enough to let yourself relax for a moment. It dripped down your forehead, into your eyes, momentarily shielding you from your surroundings as you bent over the sink.

In your daze, you turn the faucet off, your eyes screwed shut and vision starry. But as you blindly reach around the counter for a towel, you feel someone hand it to you.

"Here," the familiar voice drawls from behind you, before you feel a broad hand slither around your waist.

You let out a whimper from the back of your throat, unable to say "thank you" now, as you grab the towel from Luke’s hand realize his hips are digging into your backside.

When you dry your face and regain your vision, you stand upright. Luke’s torso is warm, and inviting, his blistered palm making headway beneath your shirt to drag across your torso. In the mirror, you see his face contort into a mellow smile, his curls pushed back away from his eyes.

"Hi," You whisper into the mirror, water dripping off of your eyelashes and down your cheek.

"Hi, pretty."

"Are you mad at me?" You hated asking that question.

"Of course not, why would I be mad at you?" Luke replies, pulling you into his cotton t-shirt.

"You seemed like you were a few minutes ago." The feeling of his fingertips was getting to be distracting.

"No, no. It was just— something I’d been meaning to tell you but… I just never got around to it."

"Oh."

His other hand has made it to your waist. "Are you mad at me?"

"Never."

"Good to know."

For a moment, the two of you stare at your reflections in the mirror. Luke’s eyes rake down your body, his hands still wandering along the delicate skin of your tummy beneath your shirt. You sigh into him, leaning backwards to rest your head on the crook of his neck.

"Wanna try something new tonight?" He asks, his voice huskier than before and mumbling into the top of your head.

"Mmm, like what?" You were unable to hide your melodic hums as his hands move closer beneath your breasts.

You already knew what Luke was going to ask of you, the excitement bubbling in the pit of your stomach as his eyes wandered, pretending to think.

To be honest with yourself, you had already thought a lot about what’d it’d be like if you two switched places for a change. But you were always too nervous to bring it up, especially in the heat of the moment.

"Want you t’ be in charge tonight, pretty. Do whatever you want t’me. Think you’d be interested?"

"Yes," you breathe without even a second thought, entranced by his fingertips as they creep towards the waistband of your shorts, "I’d love to."

"Sounds good t’me."

Not a second passes before Luke is spinning you around to face him. He dips down, and plants a gentle kiss on your lips, leaving you with a fuzzy head and a fluttering stomach.

When you pull away from him you notice the twinkle in his ocean blue eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was a look of anticipation. Pure excitement. You were about to try something new with the person you loved most in this world, and he was about as thrilled as you were.

You could just tell.

"How can I be good for you, pretty? Wanna be your good boy tonight."

His words made your heart skip a beat, but you figured it’d be best to just play it cool.

"Wellll—" You press your index finger to his chest, "Maybe start by getting on the bed?"

"Are you gonna come with me?" He asks sweetly, still holding you in his hands.

"Of course, baby… But I need you to just sit tight and wait for me, okay?"

He nods quickly, biting back a smile between his teeth before he’s shuffling out of the bathroom towards the bed. You linger in the doorframe for a moment, watching in complete awe as Luke crawls to the top of the mattress and sits with his back resting against the headboard.

Doing exactly what you had asked him to.

You start in slow strides towards him, swaying your hips with each step in hopes to kill some time.

You wanted to figure out a game plan. Since you’d never done this before, you weren’t sure where to start; and as much as it wouldn’t be shameful to ask Luke for advice, you wanted to impress him.

"Okay, done. Now what?" The anticipation in his voice made you want to just explode on impact. He was just the cutest fucking thing.

"Hmmm," you hum, crossing your arms as your eyes scan his body, "I’m gonna need that shirt off."

"Yes ma’am."

He then crosses his arms in front of his torso, pulling the hemline of his shirt over his head. He tosses it to the side, revealing his bare chest sprinkled in sandy blonde chest hairs.

As you watch him move, you gnaw on your bottom lip, scanning down his practically naked body and thinking of all of the things you could do. All of the things you could do to make this right for him. To make this worth wild.

You glance down at your plaid pajama shirt, clad and held together by buttons that gap between your breasts.

And then, you get an idea.

"You ready for me baby?" You ask your boyfriend, whose legs had been crossing and uncrossing impetuously as he watches you near closer to the bed.

"Mhm."

"Gonna play a game with you, m’kay?"

"M’kay." He mocks your gentle tone.

Before you could explain the rules of this new, made-up game of yours, you start to move. Dipping one knee down into the mattress, then the other. You crawl to him, straddling his lap and settling down atop of his obvious hard-on.

He was turned on just by the thought of you.

"It’s very easy," you start to say, reaching for the first button of your blouse, "and there’s only one rule."

Luke’s hands hover around you awkwardly, unsure of where to rest them, unsure if he was even allowed to touch you at all.

"What is it?" He asks, swallowing and adjusting himself beneath you.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His eyes widen. He had finally noticed your hand lingering and toying with the button on your top.

"You’re pretty, baby. The prettiest."

And with that, the first button comes undone. You move your hands down to the second.

"Tell me I’m pretty."

His tongue juts out to wet his bottom lip, his hands now stagnant at his sides and twitching by your calves.

"You’re so pretty. Prettiest girl in the world."

Second button, undone.

"Tell me I’m pretty, baby. Tell me again."

As you reach for the third button, you make a point to grind your hips down, swiveling them in a way that he’d feel it. His face contorts in bliss, petal pink lips parting slightly.

"You’re so fuckin’ pretty… Prettiest I’ve— ever seen."

Third button, undone.

"Tell me more, baby. Tell me again."

You grind your hips down again, and a soft whimper escapes the back of his throat. You could feel his hands fidgeting down by your legs, reaching out to touch something that wasn’t even there.

"So fuckin’ beautiful… My pretty girl— ah—" He's cut short with another dig of your hips. The paper thin material of your pajama shorts leaving absolutely no room for the imagination. You could practically feel his cock twitching beneath your core, but you weren’t ready to give in just yet.

With his last words of affirmation, you undo the last two buttons on your own accord. The breeze from the air conditioning makes you shiver, instantly perking up your nipples.

Luke noticed that, too. He always does.

"So, so pretty…" He utters with one last labored breath, as if it were the last he’d ever take, upon seeing your chest.

"You did so good for me, didn’t you baby?"

Luke hums quietly, clearly feeling some sort of release due with the pressure of your body on top of him. You notice his hands trembling still, down at his sides and oblivious to the thought of touching you.

"You can touch me, y’know. Been’ such a good boy for me so far."

The eye contact between you was like trance; it was gentle, and warm. Still wavering with uncertainty, yet eager to continue. Luke’s hands eventually make it to your waist, something he had been dying to do since the moment you straddled his hips.

You could tell he was still hesitant to let his fingers roam as they usually would, and that was definitely getting to your head.

You swivel your hips one last time without a single word, dipping down to kiss him. Your hands are quick to cup his face, lips interlocking eagerly for the first time since this morning.

It’s not long before your tongues begin exploring, tangling together in the sweetness of your kiss.

You’re still grinding your hips. He’s still in a trance.

Luke’s hands had moved to grip your ass, pushing it down while simultaneously bucking his hips up into your core. This action of his makes you disconnect from him for a moment, a disapproving look in your eye.

"Ah ah ah," you tut at him, his cheeks now squished between your palms. He quirks his brow.

"What?"

"Not so fast, pretty boy. You said I could do anything, right?"

He chuckles, eyes flicking down to your lips, "I did say that, didn’t I? You're right, baby. Tell me whatcha' need from me... I'm all yours."

You suck in a deep breath, trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts that keep poking at your head and telling you to just let him have his way with you. You wanted to remain stern, whether he took you seriously, or not.

"How about this…"

You let go of his cheeks to shrug your pajama shirt off of your shoulders, tossing it onto the floor next to his tee. His pupils shake, eyeing down your breasts.

"…You don’t get to cum ‘till I say so."

"Oh, fuck— you're too good t'me..." His voice is soft and melodic, already so willing to give up the power he usually claims. "Yes. Yes..."

Your palms lay flat on his broad chest, feeling it rise and fall with every breath he took.

He was anxious; anxious in the way that one more subtle touch to his flesh would send his heart thumping right through his ribcage.

You couldn't contain your excitement anymore; just looking at him was already creating a slickness in your panties.

But Luke could've stared at you for hours.

"Are you sure, Lu?" You ask once your delicate boy once more, tracing little hearts with your pointer fingers across his pecs. He nods eagerly, eyes going doe.

"Yes, yes, yes. A million times yes. Have your way with me, please."

With a tug at your bottom lip, you take his words as your cue. You're quick to take out a condom from Luke's bedside dresser, and even quicker to shift your ass down to rest on his thighs.

As you move, his stare lingers. He nods at you slowly, to remind you of his approval. How desperately he wanted you to have your way with him.

His cock twitching and practically popping through the button of his boxers was already telling you everything you needed to know.

To try and read his eager pleas, you begin to palm him delicately through the pink heart fabric, heavenly sounds spilling past his lips and floating to your ears like a siren's melody.

He was grunting, whining; almost as if he were in pain.

"Easy now, baby," you coo gently, as a shiver runs down Luke's body, "Still my good boy, right?"

"Mmmmph."

"Good, good. Just like that, pretty baby." You squeeze your hand around his length, and his jaw falls completely agape.

You weren't planning on teasing him for much longer. It almost felt cruel to do so.

So, instead of waiting any more, you release him from the button of his boxers.

His tip was already leaky with precum; angry and red, that angelic face of his melting the second you wrap your manicured fingers around his shaft.

Tipping down to take him into your mouth, you hollow out your cheeks, tongue laying flat against him as you start to bob your head.

Sucking him off had always been one of your favorite things to do. In your head, it gave you a purpose— and you always loved the praise that would come with it.

But with the power dynamic now in your favor, you were already enjoying it all the more.

"Fuck me, pretty... So fuckin' warm..." Luke groans through gritted teeth, taking his hands to comb through your hair. You hum at him, sending a vibration down your tongue and directly through his body. He jolts, as if he’d been struck by lightning, while your hands begin to claw at his hipbone.

The walls of Luke's bedroom felt like they were closing in on you, each heaving breath that he was taking was making you dizzy. Your nails leave little crescent etchings deep into his flesh, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat each time you duck down.

"Fuck... fuck fuck fuck–" He grunts, he whines, he continues to writhe beneath you, completely at your disposal. You were eating up every single sound he made, every little spasm of his hands or jerk at his hips.

Picking up on the signs, you could tell he was close. He didn't even have to say it.

"Y/N... I–I'm..." He can barely even finish his thought before he's grabbing your hair in a handful. You always loved it when he was a little rough with you, and this time was no different.

With a tug at your roots, you hum around him again. His body comes lurching forward, almost as if to stop himself from fucking your throat.

"Baby– M'close..." He finally utters, which brings you to toss your head up, releasing him from your mouth with a pop.

"Shhh, it's okay," you whisper, watching his cock fall thump against his stomach and twitch here and there, "You’ve been so good for me so far."

"I have?" He asks the question sweetly, genuinely. With a little twinkle in his eye.

"Oh, of course you have, my pretty baby…" you say, running the back of your hand down his belly, "Gonna keep it up for me, right?"

"Yes."

"Such a good boy."

Luke tosses his head back, his bottom lip held captive by his teeth, and lets out a whine the moment you start to get off of him. The fact that he was whining at the loss of your touch was enough to send you over the edge right then and there, but you wanted to keep your promise.

You hastily discard your pajama shorts, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. Luke whimpers again upon seeing you naked— you didn’t bother to wear your panties tonight.

"You are so beautiful, Y/N… My pretty little flower—" Luke sighs, in awe of you, despite the lingering sexual tension in the air. He always made it a point to compliment you, no matter the scenario.

"Thank you, Lu," You can’t help but giggle and blush, making your way back to his lap to straddle him.

Again, his hands find your waist. He sucks in a deep breath, eyes wired shut.

After only doing this for a little while, you were already comfortable talking to Luke in a more dominant way. The trick was to not think about it too hard. Just let the words roll right off of your tongue.

Simple enough, right?

"Tell me what you want me to do to you, baby." Your words are soft like down pillows yet loud enough to get a rise out of him. He shifts beneath you, still closing his eyes.

"Fuck me… please? I’m achin’ for you."

You take his pleas as your sign to start, wet enough from merely the obscene sounds spilling from his lips. The condom you had grabbed was still at your side so, you rip the package open with your teeth.

When you start to roll the condom down over his length, he lets out a hiss. Could have been the temperature; or maybe he was just too desperate to be ashamed of his sounds.

"Shit—" He whines, clutching onto your hips as your hand pumps his cock a few times.

"Easy, baby," you purr, adjusting yourself upwards to line him up with your dripping slit, "You ready for me?"

"Mhm— yes… yes please, angel. Please— fuck me."

His throaty cries only furthered the butterflies floating around in the pit of your stomach. You could barely contain yourself as you hover over him, biting your lip as you sink down onto his cock.

The both of you let out a collective groan; the feeling of him filling you up completely just seemed too perfect.

You lower your body so that you completely engulf him, taking his length fully and making your breath hitch in your throat.

"Feels good, pretty baby?" You ask, still buzzing.

"Mmph—" He whines, anchoring his hands to your hips as you start to swivel.

"Need you to use your words, Lu… Tell me."

You’re gentle with him, at first. Treating him delicately, like picking off the petals off a daisy. He seemed so weak beneath you and something about it was making your head spin. Your heart was bursting at the seams.

"Yes, Y/N— Feels s’fuckin’ good—" Luke whimpers, digging his fingernails into you, and holding onto you with his entire soul fleshing through his fingertips.

His cock twitches inside of you, as you continue your rhythm of grinding hips. It’s easy for you to tell when to pick up speed, testing his limits by his face alone.

"Such a good boy, baby.. You’re doing so fuckin’ well."

You start to notice the familiar furrow of his brow, that concentrated little notch in his forehead.

He wanted to close his eyes, but he just couldn’t seem to look away

"Y/N, I—"

He says your name again. It’s syrupy, like honey dripping off of his tongue. You place your palm flat on his tummy, tossing your hair out of your eyes to match his gaze.

"Takin’ my pussy so well, aren’t you?" You ask him, but don’t expect an answer. His face of concentration was telling you all you needed to know. How hard he was working to please your demand.

"Mmm… Th-think’ m’doin’ a good job…" He nods slowly, and you smile.

"Oh baby, you are… Keep goin’, m’kay?"

He smiles with a hum, through heavy, bated breaths.

"M’kay."

The sweaty flurry of blonde curls and baby blue eyes was slowly starting to unravel. The rise and fall of his chest was rapidly picking up speed, before he started to snap his hips up into you.

A slapping sound engulfs the walls of his bedroom, but you have no reason to complain. His cock was stretching you out, hitting that sweet spot with every stroke.

"Fuck, Lu—" You can’t help but revert to your old ways; yet not completely giving in, and letting him hold the reins. He was still beneath you, practically melting as your bodies entwine.

And that, was an incredible feeling.

"Y/N—" he whines, broken by panting, "m’close."

You nod sloppily, your tits bouncing at the speed of your swiveling hips.

"Hold it, baby— still my good boy, right?"

"Yes, yes… I am, Y/N. M’ a fuckin— a fuckin’ mess for you…"

A catty smile sprawls across your cheeks, feeling your orgasm budding lowly in the pit of your stomach, and satisfied at the way you had him completely wrapped around your finger.

"Mhm, yes you are. Such a pretty mess..."

Your orgasm was on the brink now, ready to burst and run through your body. Sloppy sounds filled the air; panting, whining, groaning. It was all meshing in your ears like the tune of a fucking song.

You felt your face tinge pink upon seeing your boyfriend’s concentrated expression, feeling a tad bit sorry for being so demanding.

So, you finally decide to let go.

"Cum with me, baby—" You gasp.

"Wha—"

"Let it go, Lu. Been s— so good for me, fuck!"

And with that, stars and galaxies are fogging your vision. You let out a cry as you finish, your walls clenching tightly around Luke’s cock as he does the same. He gives one last quick snap of his hips before you’re collapsing completely, going limp on his chest with him still inside of you.

You could hear his heart thumping through his chest; your sweaty bodies practically letting sparks fly. His hand moves to rub your back, as you both collect your devices.

"Was I good enough, baby?" He asks sweetly, that soft voice from before coming into play and making your stomach flutter.

"More than enough."

He giggles; seeming a bit shy about the semantics of it all, before planting a kiss at the crown of your head.

You can see his eyelashes fanning against the apples of his cheeks, glistening in the light of your bedroom as he grins up to the ceiling.

"I’m glad," he beams, "And you were right, by the way."

You pop your head up from his chest to look him in the eye. "About what?"

"Should’ve told ya’ about this a lot sooner."

With a shake of your head, you tut at him teasingly, just happy to feel closer to him than you ever have before.

"Guess it’s not a secret anymore."

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[frozenjokes]

I was thinking about warrior cats last night because of course I was but I was thinking about how starclan and the dark forest border each other and how dark forest cats can’t leave but starclan cats can enter but. even in the dark forest you can stare out on what life could have been. isn’t that the greatest hell?

anyway convex. reasonably they’re both going to hell but for the sake of peace and love and cat romance they’re not. Scar’s an Old dark forest cat he’s been there for AGES and he’s bitter and mean and Angry so what he does to pass the time is hang out by the border, befriend starclan cats and trick them into entering the dark forest where he can kill and eat them. yknow. normal cat stuff. There’s no damn prey in the dark forest right!!!!! Man’s gotta eat somehow!!!! (he was doing this before he died lol)

Cub is a former kittypet turned medicine cat apprentice that died young, adult aged, but not before he could receive his full medicine cat name. He doesn’t like being called Cubpaw though, so he goes by just the prefix in Starclan. Cub was specifically chosen to become a medicine cat because he has such an affinity for the stars and the sky, and the clan cats misspoke this soooo badly for him being like really religious. It’s not that. He just thinks it’s neat. He came to the forest on a rumor that the stars were brighter than in the city, and the clan cats were led to believe he was sent by Starclan as some kind of prophet (the autism REALLY confused them). Cub does not have the stature of a Windclan cat or the ability to hunt Windclan prey, but I imagine that’s where he ended up because of the high hills and clear skies. He probably died tragically, killed by a fox or dog, or maybe another clan cat who viewed him as a threat. Maybe he found something out that he shouldn’t have, and didn’t realize what he was seeing until it was over.

Regardless. He is not fussed. Being dead is fucking awesome!!!!! Look at the stars!!!!! His whole BODY is stars this is like BEST CASE SCENARIO!!!!!

The place of no stars, naturally, compels him. No stars? Not even one? I know this is cat hell, but seriously! He has to know. He has to know if it’s really true.

Scar finds Cub at the edge of the forest, trying to look in. There’s a small transition period of trees before Scar could really reach him, but it’s still a bit of a shock that Cub is not even trying to keep his distance. Usually Starclan cats are a lot more wary, even when they’re curious. Scar calls out from the dark, expecting this to change. Instead, Cub looks thrilled to see them. He has to ask! Are there really no stars?

Scars rolls his eyes. Who is this guy anyway? A young Starclan cat clearly, he’s way too bright to have been dead a long time. He tells Cub he better come find out for himself if he really wants to know. Cub is thrilled to have an invitation! epic! I can’t wait to see what cat hell looks like :3 Scar is so fucking baffled by this he doesn’t have the brains to attack when Cub just walks right past him. No stars here… weird! Scar just gaped at him as this idiot, bright as the sun, wanders into the dark forest signaling to everyone in a five mile radius hello! I’m here! Come kill me please :)

Then Scar blinks and he’s fucking gone. Abra kadabra. Poof. How did I lose the sun. What the fuck. (Cub climbed a tree. He’s looking for the stars. He gets stuck up a tree for multiple days and somehow no one finds him despite being a literal beacon of light)

he does scare the life out of scar in those next couple days when he falls out of a bough of leaves and nearly clobbers the both of them out of some of the tallest trees in the forest. hey! You’re that guy! help. I can not find the stars. They weren’t lying when they said there were no stars here. Also I can’t get down. No one ever taught me how to do that. How did you end up in hell? < icebreaker questions to lighten the mood

[lostloveletters]

Sunday Eve (John Brady x OC)

Summary: On a freezing night blanketed with snow, John and Woody know how to keep each other warm.

Note: It’s been in the 80s here, so naturally I wrote a soft, smutty, post-war winter fic for them. I’m sorry if the formatting is weird, I’m posting this on mobile. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: Period typical attitudes. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal sex (light breeding kink elements, but I wanted to mention it just in case). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

John privately wondered if his Californian sweetheart regretted moving to Upstate New York for him when he found her sitting next to the radio in their small living room, bundled up in not one, but two of his sweaters, with a quilt from his grandmother on her lap. Woody’s eyebrows furrowed as the newscaster announced more snow overnight. He figured she would be used to it by then. England was no stranger to snow.

But the way she reacted to their first snow day together brought the magic back into it. She threw her arms around him and pulled him back into bed when he told her the schools were closed, which meant he had the day off of work. They spent half the day in bed, the other half dancing around the apartment and drinking whiskey they’d gotten as an engagement present, all hopeful attempts to mitigate the heating bill while money was still a little tight.

After two days of scattered snowfall, she appeared baffled that it wasn't coming to an end for the foreseeable future. She knew to expect it. Saw firsthand the rush of people bringing their cars into the shop for snow tires and chains. She got the hang of it quickly. ‘You’d hardly know she was from Los Angeles,’ her boss, an old friend of his father’s, had told John after mass one particularly chilly October morning. ‘San Francisco,’ John reminded him, to which he received a shrug in response.

“Ready to head to bed?” John asked. “We’re meeting my mom for lunch after mass tomorrow morning.”

His family adored Woody, especially when she shared her intent to convert to Catholicism. He didn’t know how to feel when she confided later on she was doing it for him, rather than out of spiritual conviction, which he suspected, anyway. He never wanted her to feel as though he were forcing her to do anything. ‘It’ll make things easier for us,’ she assured him.

The part that bothered him just as much was that it did. His family suddenly weren’t making as much of a fuss about them living together. Probably assumed they wouldn’t push their beds together or keep condoms in the nightstand. The monsignor promised them a wedding mass in the spring, the most coveted time of year to celebrate the sacrament of holy matrimony—provided she completed catechism by then. She was on track to, so long as she kept showing up to mass.

“Will the roads even be cleared?” she asked.

He smiled. “We’re used to it here, sweetheart. You’d be surprised.”

She turned off the radio, getting up from the armchair and throwing the quilt over the back of it. He reached for her hand, taking it in his and pressing a kiss to her calloused palm.

Their bedroom was chilly when they slipped beneath the covers together after rushing through their respective nighttime routines, brushing teeth and changing into pajamas. In Woody’s case, taking off one of his two sweaters she’d requisitioned for herself, not having much of a winter wardrobe of her own.

Compared to the Stalags and freezing night marches, though, their drafty old apartment felt like heaven with the radiator buzzing and Woody in his arms. John dreamed about such a moment so many times, he needed to remind himself it was real. Pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, her hair soft and smooth against his lips. She trembled against him, breathing out a soft sigh.

“Sweetheart?”

“Keep me warm,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. “Please, Johnny?”

“We have to get up to go to mass tomorrow,” he gently reminded her.

Woody wanted him morning and night, and in between too, if he could manage it. Far from a complaint, but he was certain he was the only man in the world with such a dilemma as making sure to wake up early enough to sate his love’s desire before getting along with the day. When the topic came up among his coworkers or old college buddies, they grumbled with foreign tales of fiances and wives who feigned headaches or went to sleep early.

As soon as she shifted, better positioning herself to give him a kiss, he gave in. With little more than a glance his way or brush of their lips, she could silently transform her desires into his own, making him ache for it, too.

“Turn on a lamp,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I wanna see you, honey.”

And who was he to deny her? Nighttime could be formidable, but far less so with Woody around, ready to take on whatever haunted him with the determination that earned her the admiration of so many at Thorpe Abbotts. Didn’t care if it meant forgoing sleep or engaging in odd rituals when he needed a hand to reach out and bring him back from the depths. She dove in without hesitation.

So, within seconds of her request, the amber glow of his bedside lamp washed over them. She smiled, fondness and adoration in the gold-tinged forest of her eyes as she caressed his cheek, drawing him in for another heated kiss as he moved on top of her, straddling her hips, plusher and wider since they arrived stateside and received regular helpings of family cooking. Made it hard for him to keep his hands off of her even outside of their bedroom.

He reached down, slipping his hand down the waistband of her pajama pants and between her thighs—warm and wet, he easily slid two fingers inside her. He knew it wasn’t a sin. Not anymore. Not with her. It couldn’t be.

She moaned against his mouth when he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Rocked her hips for more friction.

“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly, grabbing for his cock, tugging his pants down and croaking out a desperate, “please.”

He buried his length inside her, swallowing the groan that caught in his throat when he felt her pussy squeeze around his cock. Found a steady pace as she pulled him closer, pressing his body against hers, like she was trying to make him part of her.

She cried out for more as her eyelids fluttered shut. “John—oh my god—harder.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, echoing her earlier sentiments, “I wanna see you, sweetheart.”

She opened her eyes, bright and wild in a way that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. His fingers played with her clit, could feel how close she was. He thrust harder, rougher as her moans filled his ears, her voice hoarse as she came loudly, her pussy pulsing around his cock.

His hips shuddered. His brain felt fuzzy, almost lost himself before asking, “Where should I—“

“On my stomach.” She hastily bunched up her sweater just below her breasts, exposing it to him.

His blunt nails scratched gently against her bare stomach, soft and inviting. Tried not to think about it round and full with child, his child, one day when she wasn't so afraid. He recognized the uncertainty that flashed in her eyes whenever someone brought it up. ‘Not until you’re ready,’ he had promised with all the understanding he could manage despite the animal part of him trying to claw its way through. She’d look so pretty, so perfect. She’d be his wife soon, after all.

But it’d be worth the wait. She waited two years for him and didn’t waver. He’d do the same for her the world over. They belonged to each other.

“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out just before he came, his seed spilling onto her stomach as his orgasm rocked through him. Buried his face in the crook of her neck, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat. Made his mind hazy with the feel, the smell of her intertwining with pleasure until he was spent.

With a shaky breath and equally shaky hand, he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his cum off of her stomach. Didn’t need to look at her face to know she was eyeing him like a bird of prey. He threw the soiled fabric aside and pulled down her sweater to cover her again.

She grabbed him by the collar before he could move back to his side of the bed, pressing soft kisses to his neck, the prelude to gentle bites on his collarbones and then lower, and even lower. He took a deep breath, mustering up all of the resolve he could to pull away from her.

“We have to get up early tomorrow,” he said, as sternly as he could manage.

A small pout made its way onto her lips before she relented with a slight smile. “Alright, honey.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”

He turned off the bedside lamp. “I love you too.”

Heat radiated off of her as she curled up against him. He stroked her hair, tongue between his teeth as he tried to fight off the urge to indulge her—and himself. She always took a while to fall asleep, even when he was convinced he tired her out.

Slowly, his hand drifted lower until he found the thick, cuffed hem of her sweater and slid his hand up it, playing with her breasts, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.

A pleased hum came from her throat before she gently taunted him. “You just said—“

“You’ll make me extra coffee in the morning to make up for it.”

Her laughter tore through the darkness as he pulled her on top of him with a wicked grin.

——

John woke up before Woody. He almost always did. She could sleep until nearly noon if he let her, which he did sometimes. Usually, though, around ten in the morning, after already being up for a few hours on his own, he’d find himself missing her and coax her awake.

He rolled out of bed, pulling on his old flannel robe before the frigid morning air could bite him too hard. He nearly winced at the loss of body heat, sparing a longing glance to Woody, still curled up under the covers.

Shuffled over to the bedroom window and pulled back the thick curtain, something he had to put up when they realized how much of a draft it let in otherwise. All he could see outside was white. The whole block was covered in a thick blanket of fresh snow—including the roads. He sighed in relief, something he’d surely have to confess the following week.

John hurried back to Woody’s side, eager to relay the good news to her. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “The roads haven’t been cleared yet.”

She smiled, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him back into bed. “Thank god.”

[kickthecan-revolution]

This is long.

I had dinner last night with my friend/employee who’s here for a work trip. He had some incredibly profound things to say about the election that I’m still thinking about today.

I’m reflecting on where I could have been braver. Where I could have been kinder. Mostly, on a part of my life where I was on staff with Young Life, a Christian organization I was heavily involved in during college, and afterwards. When I graduated, I signed up to support a small tutoring program in Seattle’s Central district with at-risk kids that were little, not in high school. Mostly Black and Samoan. My parents hated it. I was the rebel.

The most profound thing I experienced from that year was seeing and contending with my own racism. My classism. I learned how my family had made choices in where we lived so it was predominantly white. I felt unsafe being the minority. I hated how I was seen differently by the other white people in camp, I was there with the kids who made them uncomfortable. I saw how much my identity was viscerally tied to being one of them, these white leaders who had so much fun, were so funny and made me feel like I belonged to a group of people who wouldn’t reject me. But it was these kids who made them do that, I thought to myself. Now they see me as “other”. I hated it.

I remember buying a brand new car and the kids oohing and hanging over it, and I felt sick, realizing the wealth disparity between us. I was 22 years old, realizing some of this for the first time.

It was the most uncomfortable time of my life, I hated almost every second of it but I emerged from it differently, mostly because my Black and Samoan colleagues were so kind to me. I confessed a lot to them - I asked a lot of questions that were likely exhausting for them. They never called me a racist, even though it would have been true. They never scolded me. They loved me and were excited for me that I was on this journey. They were right next to me the whole way. They weren’t shy about asking me questions or saying hard things. They moved in a way where I felt deeply accepted in my vulnerability. Looking back, how hard that must have been in the face of my ignorance is not something I take lightly. It was by far, the most foundational year of my life, I think about some aspect of it almost everyday. I became more aware. Less racist. More empathetic. It changed me permanently.

One man in particular, a speaker at a camp, said something to me that became a core memory. There was a certain girl that was very tough, and I was trying to figure out how to be with her. He just stared at me, probably bewildered and said “just hang out.” that answer baffled me at the time, mostly because I had no idea how to do that with anybody. He spoke to a large group of people after that, mostly white people, and someone asked him how they’ll know they aren’t a racist anymore. He quietly said “when you are willing to give a person of color the full and complete control - the last word - on who they are.” I’ve never forgotten that. Isn’t that what any of us want?

There’s much to be humbled by. Am I invested in being angry, or effective? Everyone infuriated me during this election - Trump supporters, Christians, Andrew Tate supporters, Joe Rogan fans Jill Stein supporters, even pro-Gaza supporters and a lot of the Leftists in the political landscape. I was furious with everyone who wasn’t completely behind Harris. I called people racist on the internet. I called them evil. I scolded, I routinely and regularly vented my moral outrage. The worst part is that I meant it.

So this is my confession, this hatred. My misuse of moral outrage. My need to feel like I was liked.My rage when someone wasn’t acting in my own very specific terms. My behavior that made so many defensive instead of supported.

Ironically, those who I felt were screaming at me (broadly, not specifically) for my Whiteness, for not supporting Gaza enough, saying I support genocide if I didn’t do or say or agree with their very specific terms of support absolutely shut me down and I felt myself pulling further away from them, just keeping all of my thoughts to myself. I wasn’t brave enough to say it out loud and felt like I couldn’t, after all it was largely this group that got us a decent candidate in the first place. Were they right, and I was just being defensive? Well yeah - they were right. And yes, I was defensive. Maybe I didn’t care enough. All I knew is I was tired of being told my level of care was not acceptable, and trying to appreciate the position that the VP was in with our Ally as Putin pushes further into Europe meant I didn’t care at all. That was not giving me the last word on who I am, and I was pissed. I stopped learning about it, I minimized my engagement with them. There was no psychological safety to be vulnerable.

It’s overly simplistic to say who is at the heart of that blame-wise. I think it’s more important to acknowledge it’s pretty human, and the damage it causes when we go underground is significant. And that in this decolonizing journey, I still don’t know how much of the oppressed opinions of me I need to accept if it doesn’t ring true for me in my soul. If there’s any space to say “no you’re wrong about me.”

And I have to wonder if that’s how a lot of people in the country who voted for Trump felt about me. I know that’s true. I wanted to feel like I was part of “the best”, and I treated them as though they weren’t. I hated their character - I still do. They genuinely frighten me. But being the same as those who I saw as the most righteous was more important to me than anything else, it was more important to belong to those I saw as “right” vs being effective. It’s my need to have a family. To not be alone.

It is also my Whiteness, needing to never feel rejected or that someone is mad at me, that’s how it manifests most for me but I’m glad I’m at the place where I am know it’s not entirely that. I am not my Whiteness entirely, though people can and do see me that way. I still get to acknowledge those other aspects of me that many might be unwilling or just not invested in seeing.

Getting at the root cause of why we (white women) do so much damage is mystery and is pretty personal but I think there has to be space for vulnerability to see the brokenness inside of us that is the source of so much unconscious, harmful behavior. There are margins of us that are broken and kind of insane - what do we need to get ahold of it? Is there any solution? I don’t know, beyond something supernatural but I do know being scolded by those who are aligned with elevated values does not seem effective. Part of me as I write that says “oh my God, are you saying you need to be managed and catered to?” that’s gross if the answer is yes, and exhausting. I just don’t know what’s truly effective in promoting change. Part of me wonders if full change is possible and we just need to be overcome/minimized/outnumbered. Its possible.

So I own a lot of contribution to this failure. This rage I feel is weird, particularly when I''m not going to be hurt much by any of this. I need to figure out what parts of it are grounded in empathy and which parts aren't. All I can do is be more honest about my missteps, my own lack of character and braver in talking about it and hope the journey will find some companions along the way. Or not, most of this is a journey we take alone, I guess.

Do you want to be angry or do you want to be effective, Diane. You can be both, but not when they cancel the other out.

[din-miller]

Soft edges, gentle touch

Pairing: Wrecker x f!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: Years after settling down on Pabu with each other, Wrecker has started gaining weight, becoming softer. You didn’t realize how self conscious he’s become about the change in his body. Once you find out, you try and convince him that you’re still insanely attractive to him

Warnings: insecure wrecker, weight gain, hurt/comfort, married couple, life in Pabu, implications to sexy times, I love wrecker and he needs to be appreciated more okay

A/N: I also wrote one for Hunter.

You kick the front door of your house open, awkwardly balancing on one leg as the groceries in your arm threats to take a nosedive onto the floor. You huff and lean back to try and right the bag you're holding against your chest, only supported by one hand underneath it.

“Whoa, cyare, careful,” Wrecker grabs the bag from you with one hand and the other is quick to wrap around your back to steady you, then, not surprisingly his hand wonders down to your ass, giving it a squeeze, “I thought you were going out to get us dinner, not buy the entire market!”

Thanking him, you properly close the front door, locking it despite knowing how safe Pabu is. You remember that one time where Crosshair wanted to prove a point about how locking the front door is crucial to your survival. He even snuck in one night and you woke up to him looming over you, smirking like he just proved a point. Which he did, you had to admit.

You’re still not sure if his nose ever properly healed correctly. Wrecker constantly jokes about how much he wished his brother was chewing on a toothpick at that moment. It’s a morbid sense of humour the Batch has, truly.

You try to reach for the groceries again but Wrecker is already walking towards the kitchen.

Figures.

You kicked off your shoes and followed him, appreciating the sight in front of you. He’s gone soft around the edges since he and the boys decided to settle down. Life away from war and blaster fire. You had met him shortly afterwards, he offered to help carry an armchair to your place. You had denied out of kindness at first, but he was ever so persistent in helping. It didn’t take you long to cave.

You’ll admit it, watching the way his arms flex, shoulder wide and back a mountain of muscle was a sight you had admired instantly. And the following days, weeks, months and years.

Now, three years after having met the love of your life you’ve begun to notice the softness around his hips, stomach and chest. The way his muscles are still very prominent, even underneath his shirts, but they weren’t as big as they once were.

It’s not a kink or anything like that. It’s knowing he’s able to relax and have proper meals; that you’re providing him food and healthy nutritions outside of his usual ration packs that make your heart skip every time you’re able to run your hands across the softness of his body.

You’re allowed to blatantly admire it too. You openly stare, sometimes lustfully, sometimes not, but it’s a daily admiration — an hourly admiration if you’re being honest.

So when Wrecker goes to put something up on the highest self, his shirt riding up enough to give you a clear view of the small belly resting just above his pants, you give a low whistle. You wonder if you could talk him into a little make out session and ignore the groceries for the time being.

But instead of his usual response; turning around and winking at you, he tenses. Muscles stiff and face angled away from you as his arms drop to his sides. You frown, baffled at his response.

“Babe?”

He doesn’t reply right away, but when he does reply it’s timid, “Do you still see me the same way you used to?”

You raise your brow, a playful grin forming on your lips, “You mean; smart, kind, a wonderful sense of humour-,”

“Attractive,” He cuts you off, turning slightly towards you, voice low. Self conscious, “Tech sent over the pictures from his wedding. I… I didn’t realise I'd gotten so…” Wrecker scratched the back of his head, eyes still avoiding yours, “Chubby.”

Your grin falls down into a frown, taking back at his question, at why he’d ever think of using the word chubby to describe himself. Realization hits you like a punch in the gut; while you’ve been admiring his softer form you never really took into account how Wrecker views the changes in his body.

Some partner you are.

You round the kitchen island taking Wrecker’s hand in yours, squeezing it, “I love you, I love your body, I love that you’re healthy because that’s what you are. You’re not fat, not chubby, you’re healthy,” You cup his cheek, tilting his head down until your eyes meet, “Wrecker you are beautiful.”

He sighs, taking your hand and draping it over his shoulder, giving him access to your inner elbow where his lips press a delicate kiss to your skin, “I’m being silly, aren’t I?”

“No, my love,” Your fingers lightly trail over the scars across the side of his head, “You’re still adjusting to a normal lifestyle away from being a clone. It’s a lot of change to deal with, mentally and physically. You’ve gained weight, so have I; it’s called getting older and I for one don’t want to grow old and flabby with anyone other than you.”

“I age faster.”

“I guess it’s a good thing I find salt and pepper insanely attractive.” You sent him a saucy wink.

Confusion paints his face, “Mesh’la, I’m bald and all my attempts at growing a beard have ended with poor results. The only hair on my body is-,” His eyes widened and a blush spreads across his cheeks, “Oh, i-I see, you’re talking about my pubs.”

You shake your head, laughing, “Yes, Wrecker, I’m talking about your pubs… In all seriousness, I’ll never see you any differently than the man I love beyond measure. Whether that be old, flabby and grumpy or muscular, lean and childlike; I’ll love it all. I want it all.”

“You have it all,” He leans into your hand, a pleased noise coming from his throat when your thumb brushes across the scar on the bridge of his nose, “I love you too, my beautiful wife.”

“Enough to forget the groceries and make out with me against the counter?”

Strong arms wrap around your waist and suddenly you’re being lifted up and set down the island, his lips already hungrily seeking out yours before you can squeal at being manhandled by your husband. You hum against his lips, tongue darting out to run over the seams of his, asking permission which is given instantly as his mouth parts and you're suddenly overcome with the taste of him, drinking it all in with a soft moan.

You know Wrecker will still struggle with the changes in his body, as you will your own, but you have him and he has you. It’ll all be okay.

[legendary-defender-of-fandoms]

You want to know the worst thing about Ralph Breaks the Internet?

It wasn’t the already-dated Internet jokes & references - we all knew going in that stuff was never going to work.

It wasn’t the new characters - honestly, they’re all fine (except maybe Double Dan - Alfred Molina deserves better!).

It wasn’t the exclusion of Felix & Calhoun (my delusional ass is still waiting for a short film about the two raising the Sugar Rush racers.)

It wasn’t even the thousands of details they ignored, retconned, or forgot from the original Wreck-it Ralph (Fix-it Felix Jr. was THIRTY years old when Ralph met Vanellope, Vanellope ABDICATED HER THRONE in favor of a constitutional democracy so everyone in Sugar Rush would have a say in how the game was run, Sugar Rush was a two-seater racing game, etc.)

No, the absolute, positively, undeniably worst thing Ralph Breaks the Internet did was tarnish & distort Ralph so thoroughly it made us all question if the original movie was even that good to begin with.

Everything else in Ralph Breaks the Internet could be forgiven or overlooked. But what they did to Ralph is just baffling. He was never going to be mistaken for a Rhodes scholar in the first movie, but he WAS smarter than the doofus who couldn’t even name a graduation cap in the sequel.

Wasn’t he?

And he wasn’t a gross slob by choice - he HATED living in the dump (I believe his exact words were “NOT cool! Unhygienic, and lonely! And boring.”) but he was kind of stuck there because the game literally left him nowhere else to stay. That’s why in the epilogue he decided to finally make something of his situation by building himself a proper shack instead of just camping on the bricks.

Wasn’t it?

And Ralph had many flaws in the first film - he had a short temper, he was a little clumsy, he broke things by accident just because he was a little too strong or things weren’t made for someone with his physical abilities in mind, he was stubborn, he had a one-track mind and couldn’t be deterred from his short-term goals no matter the long-term consequences. But the one thing he WASN’T was insecure. He knew his own strengths & weaknesses, and he wasn’t trying to change himself to win anyone’s approval. He was just trying to find VALIDATION, a way to satisfy the small-minded Nicelanders and prove to them (and himself) that he had value as he was.

Wasn’t he?

I’m terrified to rewatch the original movie now because I’m afraid the Wreck-it Ralph in my head is based on lies & fanfics, and the real Wreck-it Ralph was ALWAYS some insecure doofus with no accountability or self reflection.

And you know the absolutely insane part? Disney is doing their absolute darndest to pretend Ralph doesn’t exist. AND HE’S THE TITLE CHARACTER OF HIS OWN IP!!!!! There’s a new chapter book series about Vanellope & some of the Sugar Rush Racers getting stuck in a little girl’s tablet, and Ralph’s ONLY appearance so far is a line-drop in the first book when Vanellope says she left him sleeping in Game Central Station while all the consoles were unplugged for a remodeling of Litwak’s Arcade. WHAT THE FUCK?!?! Remember how EVERYONE in the first movie lost their shit at the possibility of their game being unplugged, treating it like an Apocalypse? Remember how even the sequel did a halfway decent job reminding folks that having a game unplugged was a Big Deal? Now everyone’s just chill axing on vacation in Game Central Station (which is NOT BIG ENOUGH to hold every single game character - it could barely fit the Sugar Rush citizens when they got unplugged) and Ralph is snoozing in a corner while his daughter is accidentally whisked away to some girl’s tablet.

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?!

The Wreck-it Ralph from the first movie wouldn’t be asleep in a corner when he could be spending time with Vanellope. And THAT man would go through Hell & high water to find her! While Vanellope & her gang are helping Molly (the kid with the tablet) learn about friendship & camping or whatever, Ralph should be an absolute MENACE online, tearing through every website, personal device, and Cloud account looking for his little girl!

Right? Wrong?

Did we all delude ourselves into thinking Ralph was deeper than he was intended to be? Or does Disney just hate Wreck-it Ralph now? And if it’s the latter, why? WHY do they hate him? Why do they want US to not care about him? Is it because he’s the last of the Lasseter projects? Did John C. Reilly and Bob Iger have some sort of falling-out? Did the FANBASE do something to put Disney staff off from ever wanting to do anything with Wreck-it Ralph ever again?

I think I could move on if I knew for certain whether Disney actively sabotaged Wreck-it Ralph with his sequel & subsequent exclusions from merchandise & multi-IP projects, or if I was just crazy for ever liking this character or his movie to begin with. It’s the not knowing that kills me.

[blindradiant]

ask game: 20 with rlainarin? （╹◡╹）♡

I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this, but I finally wrote something tonight!

Rlainarin, on a scar. Rated Teen, 650 words. This has a couple references to grief in regards to lost family members and entire cultural groups.



Rlain hovered his finger over Renarin’s arm, tracing it near his skin without actually making contact. He hummed quietly to the Rhythm of Peace, noting each of Renarin’s small arm hairs. They were black speckled with yellow, just like the longer strands on his head. Rlain also admired the constellation of freckles scattered across the parts of Renarin’s body that weren’t hidden by his clothing. Each time Rlain thought he’d learned as much as he could about Renarin, he always found more to discover. Tonight, that discovery was Renarin’s individual beauty.

When Rlain had first met and interacted with humans, he’d thought that their monochrome skin and lack of marbling made them indistinguishable from one another. Now that he’d taken the time to look closer, he realized how wrong he had been. It was true that humans had no marbling, but the blending colors of Renarin’s head and arm hair were almost like marbling of his own. Humans weren’t monochrome, but were covered in small variations, like Renarin’s freckles.

Rlain’s finger encountered a mark much larger than the rest of Renarin’s freckles. It was near the heel of his left hand, and ran in a short, jagged line between the bass of his thumb and his wrist bone. Rlain kept his finger there, but still didn’t touch Renarin. “What is this?” he asked to Curiosity.

Renarin glanced down. “It’s a scar I’ve had since I was a child,” he said. His words were faintly spoken to the Rhythm of Consideration. He was getting very good at that.

Rlain hummed a few notes of Curiosity. “How did you get it?”

Renarin looked away, tapping the fingers of his right hand against his knee. “It isn’t interesting. I was out with mother one day. We were walking through the gardens in my uncle’s palace, when I had a fit. I think I tried to catch myself before I hit the ground. One hand landed on a rock that had been broken in a storm, and I was left with that scar.”

Rlain pulled his hand back from Renarin’s arm, resting it on his own knee. “Do you think your Stormlight didn’t heal it because you’ve had it for so long?”

Renarin pulled his box from a pocket and rolled it in his fingers. “I think...I think I still have it because it’s a physical reminder of my mother. Even when I can’t remember specific things about her, I look down and see that scar, and know that she was real.”

Rlain attuned Mourning. He knew how deeply the hurt of a loved one’s death could run. He’d once believed that he was the only surviving member of his entire species. Yes, he intimately knew the type of pain Renarin spoke of.

He nearly let the conversation die, but a sudden thought occurred to him. He attuned Confidence to give himself courage. “Can I kiss your scar?”

Renarin looked up, his eyes widening in clear surprise. “Why do you want to do that?” Another human might have asked the question with judgment, but Renarin only seemed curious and slightly baffled.

“You said the scar reminds you of your mother,” Rlain said to Remembrance. “I want it to make you think of me also.”

Renarin’s breath audibly caught. “I... It’s that important to you?”

“It is,” Rlain said to Resolve.

Renarin swallowed, tightly wrapping the fingers of his right hand around his box. “Just a short kiss,” he said. His voice came out weak, and attuned to no Rhythm at all. “And, um, no licking.”

Rlain hummed to Appreciation, then leaned down and brushed his lips against the scar. He sat up, and Renarin stared down at the spot, as if he could see some change Rlain couldn’t.

Renarin finally looked up. “I don’t remember her well,” he said to Remembrance, “but I think she’d approve. Of us.”

Rlain matched his Rhythm to Renarin’s, bolstering and strengthening his song. “Thank you.”