#it's not like bad... but i also don't know how i feel about it

[infiniteglitterfall]

Not to, you know, point out yet again that you Hamas stans don't give a fuck about Palestinians, but....

The chasm between what Gazan activists say about Hamas and October 7, and what Western leftists and Hamas say, is absolutely fucking horrifying.

All of this below is from just one Gazan activist who's been repeatedly tortured, by Hamas, for fighting for his own human rights.

As expected, Hamas began executing Gazans the moment the ceasefire deal was reached, accusing them of "working with the occupation." Just today, they executed 10 Gazans, and they promised to do more in the coming days.

This isn’t a novel tactic; it’s an age-old strategy employed by Hamas to silence critics and instil fear among citizens who oppose their rule. I would greatly welcome a position from the pro-Palestinian movement advocating for pressure on Hamas to end its ongoing oppression of the people in Gaza.

For those who support Hamas and express admiration for the organization in light of the recent ceasefire announcement, it is vital to recognize that in Gaza, tens of thousands of innocent civilians are experiencing profound suffering, while Hamas seems largely unconcerned with their plight. They chose to prioritize sending their terrorists abroad for treatment, insisting that each fighter be accompanied by three family members.

What about the numerous Gazans who were shot and tortured by Hamas throughout the war? Shouldn't they be given the opportunity to receive medical treatment abroad?

You know what would help the Palestinians in Gaza? Condemning Hamas' atrocities. Instead, the protesters routinely chant their desire to "Globalize the Intifada." Apparently they do not realize that the Intifadas were disastrous for both Palestinians and Israelis, just as October 7 has been devastating for the people of Gaza.

They should be speaking up for the innocent victims of Hamas—both Palestinian and Israeli. Instead, they endorse Hamas's ideology with posters announcing resistance "by any means necessary" and chants of "from the river to the sea," effectively glorifying the Al-Qassam brigades, Hamas' military wing, whose ideology is entirely based on the elimination of more than 6 million Israelis from the land.

I really, really try to be polite and explain things most of the time.

But after watching "pro-Palestinians" spend the entire war actively helping silence Gazans and making things worse for them, through pure Hamas-worshipping violent tankie revenge fantasies...

I'm just going to indulge myself in one do better, shithead.

“elon musk did the nazi salute, remember to check on your jewish friends uwu” you all celebrated when jihadi terrorists live-streamed the torture, kidnapping and murdering of israelis on 10/7/2023 but ok

[dontmixpaintinyourcoffee]

This one goes out to all the bitches who love some good Safehouse Era Horror. It's me, I'm bitches. I want Jon and Martin to be fucked up and eldritch but I want them to be fucked up and eldritch and loved

(Notes under the cut because I can't help myself. Heads up, I do go into some detail of how Jon gets injured so I can explain my thought process for how I designed his scars. All canon-typical and fairly clinical in tone.)

Here's how I picture Safehouse Jon!

He doesn't need glasses anymore by this point, so he should just be wearing empty frames, but I drew this before I settled on my glasses headcanons. This drawing looks better with the reflection anyways.

He hasn't gotten a haircut since before his promotion to Head Archivist. He doesn't love the weight of it on his neck, but he also uses it to fidget, and he really doesn't want to go through the whole process of cutting it. He's disliked haircuts since he was a kid (People: Bad. Small talk: Bad. Touching: Bad. Loud sounds: Bad. People talking all at once: Bad) and since his time with the Circus he's only grown more reluctant to go and get it done.

At this length his hair is naturally pretty curly but he is. Not taking care of it. I actually put a lot of effort into trying to make it look brittle and tangled (I have a lot of experience lol, my hair is quite thick and I've always hated taking care of it. Yes I am also projecting my feelings about going to a hairdressers onto him why do you ask.)

The various scars were a bit of a strange task, but anyone who has seen my takes on The Bad Kids knows I'm not averse to selective realism in my fiction. Easiest one was the neck, I always pictured Daisy making a vertical cut based on "through the voice box". The larynx is longer than it is wide, so I think Daisy would go for the method that dealt damage across the largest total surface area. Yes I am aware that I'm speaking the same way Martin does when he explains his corkscrew.

The worm scars were easy because I barely drew any. There are a few marks on his cheek, but they're just surface bites. I picture most of his encounter with Prentiss showing on his legs, particularly on the right side, with enough damage there that he starts using a cane after the incident to keep weight off his right leg. More research to be done on this particular detail.

Finally the burn on his hand from Jude. This was the weirdest one to figure out just because of the nature of the injury. How do you quantify the damage done to an epidermis by a living manifestation of sometimes-boiling wax that can heat and cool at will? I settled on it being a second-degree burn that healed supernaturally fast, containing the damage to the space Jude had direct contact with. He'd probably have some mobility issues there as well. I know there are ways to help with mobility and pain after a severe burn, but I don't know how much of it Jon would actually. Do. Like I said, definitely further research to be done on these last two.

Hey so I'm gonna ask you to stop and consider the horror of the watcher. The helplessness. The guilt. The inherent terror of being a spectator, a participant by proximity but not by action. The horror of not being able to look away, of being a bystander. Jon forgets to blink sometimes. But wouldn't it be so much worse if there were no eyelids at all? That's how I interpret the description of The Archivist being "All Eyes" :D

I love a good Many-Eyed Jon, so I whipped up my own interpretation here. I think the more he Becomes the more he starts to resemble the thing from the dreams. He has a lot more control of it in S5, but it still creeps up on him and he has to consciously go back to a human shape.

[mameillieureennemie]

Hey i think it would be cool if you do another jinx x femreader ishas sister and something about isha walking in on a cute moment and getting grossed out maybe some angst😌 maybe some smut 😙😙 if u do that

hey love! sorry this took so long, but i hope you enjoy and thank you for the request :)

jinx x f!isha's sister!reader

there're hardly any moments you two can get alone. with the whole of piltover after you and the whole of zaun championing your girlfriend, it's been a very rough couple of weeks.

most of your time is spent hiding out, and during that time, you're entertaining isha as much as you can. whether that be through beetle brawling, drawing, or re-dying her hair so it doesn't lose its blue. it's anything you can do to keep her happy, to keep her away from the impending war that brews on outside.

but then a moment comes along where isha disappears. which isn't entirely odd because she's been known to vanish from time to time. you've grown used to it, after years of observing her movements, and calm jinx down when her look for isha grows a bit frantic.

"she's fine," you assure jinx, rubbing at her shoulder. "i wouldn't be this calm if i knew she wouldn't be."

"yeah, but," jinx says, running a shaky hand through her hair. "it's getting dangerous out there, and isha isn't us. she's young; she's practically a baby, and people are sick fucks with deranged brains and—"

you instantly draw jinx into your arms, tugging at her until her face is in the crook of your neck. you rub soothing circles against her back, softly cooing until jinx's muttering falls silent. then her arms are curling around your waist, holding you close, as if she's scared you'll disappear too.

"i know it's hard," you say gently. "to trust that things are okay. that the people you love are okay. but you can trust me and trust that i know what i'm talking about." you lean back so you can hold jinx's face in your hands, smoothing your thumbs over the angle of her cheekbones. "so trust me on this, okay? isha's fine, and she knows what to do if she runs into any trouble."

jinx seems unconvinced, but she slowly relaxes as she nuzzles into your touch. with a heavy sigh, she closes her eyes and says, "i've...never had to worry like this before. usually, it was others worrying about me. because i was the jinx, y'know? so it's odd...feeling this way."

you hum in response, still tracing patterns into her cheeks. "feeling what way?" you ask, a little curious and jinx opens her eyes with a shrug.

"responsible?" she tries, before shaking her head. "i don't know, i just—the idea of anything happening to you or isha rips me up inside. like i'd permanently lose my mind, go absolutely fucking crazy if something bad happened to you guys."

you hum again, this time with a hint of a chuckle. but her words have your heart racing because that's exactly how you feel. it also means that what jinx is experiencing is probably similar to your experience.

that she—

"you love us," you whisper, barely loud enough for jinx to hear. but she hears it, loud and clear, as she stares at you with eyes that momentarily look powder blue.

"i...do," she whispers, just as loud, and it's enough to push you. enough to have you pull her in so you can press a sweet kiss against her lips. a kiss she reciprocates eagerly, her arms still tight around your waist, placing you in a trap you hope to never escape.

just as she licks into your mouth with a soft moan, there's a noise that startles you both. you pull apart quickly, looking around and sighing when you see that it's isha.

whose nose is scrunched up in disgust, eyes clenched shut.

you can't help but laugh loudly as jinx snorts, refusing to let you go.

"some nerve you got," jinx scolds playfully. "you couldn't have come back in like twenty minutes?"

you shove jinx, just as playful, and say, "isha, you can open your eyes."

but isha shakes her head, intent of keeping her eyes safe.

but she's smiling now, and that's all that matters.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I am not EVERY autistic person so this probably won't be a total coverage approach, but here's what I have learned:

People like to feel that you pay attention to and remember little but important things about them. And when someone is "small-talking" with you, it is often because they either want to offer you some of that info about themselves, or they want to pearn it about you so they can "return the effort". I think of it a bit like call and response with my cats! They don't understand me, and I don't understand them, but when I walk into the kitchen each morning, Lup runs towards me excitedly making her tiny little squeaks and trills. That's kitty small-talk! Many words of all varieties just say "I love you! I missed you! I'm happy to be here with you today!"

So I answer her! Sometimes I mimic her little sounds, and other times I pretend we're gossiping like church ladies (*gasp* NO, you're KIDDING, he said THAT?? What a scandal!") But whichever I do Lup gets excited and continues her little "conversation" with me.

People are harder. I had to really take time and practice different ways of responding before I found appropriate "call and response" for small talk, but I found that there are genuinely more options than you'd think. And the same thing happened! As I learned how to "call and respond" to small talk, I found that people would excitedly approach me to have it, and gradually we got to know each other enough that the "calls" coming from both sides got less general, more tailored to our personal preferences and interests, and I didn't have to small talk as much (but when I did it wasn't as scary either)

This isn't just my personal theory either! A fair amount of research in interpersonal/social in-group dynamics suggests that "bids for attention" like small talk function in this way of call-and-response intimacy/connection building. I have found that a LOT of social etiquette gets less scary to navigate when I at least understand the function of it. It also gave me some understsnding of why people might be hurt when I visibly don't WANT to "respond" to a "call" they've made: I'm the same way about my "calls" I just use different ones! The way I feel when I ask someone "would you want to hang out with me in the kitchen while I make lunch?" (Sad, a little anxious or vulnerable, maybe hurt if they've said no to a LOT of recent calls, etc) is the same way others feel when I decline theirs! That doesn't change if it was MISSED rather than DECLINED, but it can be repaired! Ao another thing I've taken to doing is naming for people the calls I have learned I'm most likely to miss. I know I have a hard time understanding/recognizing small talk as a call to attention, so I let people know that! And generally the people I connect best with are the ones who notice I missed a call and offer me an explicit/direct opportunity to reject it before internalizing what I've done as a rejection. This isn't really an option for everyone! And while I'm always delighted when someone is compatible with me in that way, I don't get upset if they're not, and work to not take it personally as something I'm doing wrong either.

Anyway, this got rambly at the end there, but the point is, most social interactions have a FUNCTION and while being autistic frequently means that we struggle to learn and interact in these systems as they currently exist, but that doesn't necessarily mean that we don't also depend on those functions. I think it can be easy to forget that part of the "disabling" effects of social/communication symptoms in autism is how it cuts us off from systems of support, care, and human interconectedness (things we still NEED) and it can matter to our quality of life to be able to find compatible alternatives to fulfilling those functions even if the original mechanism (small talk in this case) doesn't suit us.

Being bad at small talk doesn't mean you don't need friends, but it will probably make it very hard to MAKE friends. And we each and all deserve to decide for ourselves what to do about that.

I'm trying to figure out a good way to say "you really should actually learn the basics of small talk" with sounding like I'm biased against autistic people.

[charmedimsure]

THE NEXT EPISODE || thanos

pairing: Thanos/Choi Su-bong x f!reader

summary: You and Su-bong reunite after his stay at rehab. No debt/no games AU.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: rehab, drinking, drugs, addiction, depression

A/N: i've been working on this for like two weeks and i still feel like i could work on it more. i love this mini series i made and i'm excited to see how other people like it :) if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 1: Wake Up Call

Today is the big day. The day Su-bong has been working towards for the past six months.

Today he gets out of rehab.

He originally tried to quit on his own, but after multiple relapses, he decided he needed help. Due to his multiple addictions and how long he's been addicted for, the doctors at the facility suggested a longer stay for him, to which he agreed.

Before he left, he gave you the keys to his apartment, putting you in charge of managing the place while he's away. You also promised to get rid of anything in his apartment that could potentially be abused.

Rehab had actually not been bad. It certainly wasn't easy, but Su-bong felt better about it knowing there were so many other people there going through the same thing as him. He had ended up making some really good friends there, friends that he was excited to see again once they all got out. A few of them had made plans to meet up at a coffee house soon, about a week after Su-bong is released.

The thing Su-bong has been looking forward to the most while in rehab is seeing you again. The only visitors that were allowed were family members, so he had to settle for just talking to you on the phone.

"Can I see you soon?" Su-bong asks into the phone.

"I have to work today, but I'm off tomorrow if you want to come by?" you say. "Oh, and I left something for you on your counter."

Su-bong smiles into the phone. "You didn't have to do that."

"Don't get too excited, it's not much," you laugh. "But I just wanted to give you something to congratulate you."

"I'll be happy with anything you give me," he says.

"Cheesy," you groan, making him laugh. A small gasp comes from Su-bong's phone. "Shoot, my boss just texted me I have to go in early. I'm sorry, I gotta go. Text me when you get home, okay?"

"All good," Su-bong says. "Yeah, I'll text you. Let me know when you get to the club and back home safe."

"I will," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'll see you tomorrow."

<>

Su-bong walks into his apartment. A chill washes over him. It's been so long since he was here, and he's changed so much. He puts his things down, walking into his kitchen.

A feeling of dread fills him. Was six months enough? Is he really able to do this?

A glint catches his eye, and he sees a small chain sitting on his counter. Attached to it is a dog tag. He picks it up, examining it. When he notices a clasp on the side of the dog tag, he opens it, revealing a small note in your handwriting.

'I'm proud of you <3'

A comfortable warmth fills his body as he smiles at your note. He closes the tag, immediately putting the chain around his neck.

He looks around his place. It holds way too many memories of his time before rehab. Waking up with a headache so bad he's worried his head might implode, turning over to see some random girl in his bed who's name he can't remember. That's not how he wants to live anymore.

He takes a water bottle from the fridge, which you must have put in there for him, and sits on his couch, looking up listings for available apartments. Preferably one close to you.

<>

Su-bong feels his heart race as he stands in front of your apartment door. He's been waiting for this moment for six months. With a deep breath, he knocks on the door.

Footsteps are heard from the other side of the door. Something makes a loud bang and he hears you curse, making his lips twitch upwards.

The door opens and there you are. He swears you've only gotten more beautiful since he last saw you.

"Woah, I almost didn't recognize you," you smile.

He smiles, sheepishly scratching the back of his head. He hadn't dyed his hair since before rehab, leaving it at its natural dark brown. "Yeah, I've been getting that a lot."

"I like it," you say. "You look much more like Su-bong."

He feels his face heat up, muttering a shy 'thank you'.

You step to the side, opening the door wider. "Come in! I'll go grab a snack."

Su-bong walks into your apartment, a smile playing on his face at the familiar set up. You move to the kitchen and he sits on your couch. He chuckles at the new blanket laying next to him, clearly having been used recently.

He looks up as you walk back into the room, placing a bowl of pretzels and a bottle of blue Gatorade on the coffee table in front of him. You remembered.

He gestures toward the blanket. "That new?"

You put a pretzel in your mouth and smile at him, nodding enthusiastically. "My mom got it for me. You have to feel it, it's so soft." He chuckles as you cover your mouth with your hand, too excited to tell him about the blanket to wait until you've swallowed your food.

He reaches out to the blanket, eyes widening when his fingers graze the fabric. "Holy shit."

"Right?!" you laugh, picking up the blanket and sitting down. You toss it over both of your legs. You take a moment to study his face. "You look really good, Su-bong."

He feels himself blush, turning away in embarrassment. "Yeah, my pupils are finally the correct size."

You laugh at the comment. "Yes, that. But you also just look much healthier. Much happier."

He nods. "I feel happier. I thought I was happy all those nights at the club, drinking away my life. But now I know that wasn't real happiness." He looks at you, looking deep into your eyes. "This is real happiness."

Now it's your turn to look away, feeling heat rush to your face. "I'm glad. You deserve happiness."

He smiles.

"Even though you once tried to pay me to take off my shirt."

Su-bong cringes, bringing his hand to his face as you laugh. "Can you please stop bringing that up?"

You shake your head. "No way. This is the punishment you get for that. Me making fun of you. I think it's a fair exchange."

He laughs. "Fair enough."

You continue talking for the next hour or so, telling each other about everything and nothing. Su-bong's heart soars every time he is able to make you laugh. He's made music his entire life, but no song could ever compare to the sweet tune of your laughter.

"On Sunday I'm gonna meet up with a few friends from rehab at that new coffee place around the corner," he says. "Do you want to come?"

You shake your head. "Thank you for the invitation but I don't want to intrude."

"You wouldn't be intruding," he assures. "I, uh, talked about you a lot and they really want to meet you."

Your face heats up at his admission, nodding. "In that case, I'd love to go."

He smiles. "Good."

You put on a movie to watch, saying you saw one while he was away and couldn't wait to show it to him. Throughout the movie, Su-bong sneaks glances at you. He's wanted you ever since he first laid his eyes on you. You were the hot bartender with a fiery personality.

Now, though, as he watches you chew your lip in concentration, he sees just how amazing you truly are. You're the beautiful girl who changed his life for the better. The amazing girl who gave him a reason to become a better person. The kind girl who talked on the phone with him every day while he was in rehab.

You're his best friend. And he's deeply in love with you.

<>

Su-bong opens the door to the coffee house, letting you walk inside first before entering as well.

"Hey, Su-bong!" a voice yells, getting his attention. He smiles when he sees his friends, waving at them. He motions for you to follow him as you head over to the table.

"Hey guys," he greets, giving each of them a small hug. It feels nice to see them on the outside. They all accomplished the same thing, and they'll forever be close for doing it together.

He looks to you. "Oh right. This is Jung-su, Shin-il, and Ji-hae."

Each of them wave and smile at you as he says their names. Once he introduces you, they all seem to get a similar look on their faces.

"Oh, so you're the girl he keeps talking about," Shin-il smirks. Su-bong lightly smacks his arm, making the boy laugh.

"Shin-il, be quiet!" Ji-hae rolls her eyes. She turns to you. "He told us about how you helped him get sober. We're glad he had someone so supportive helping him."

You smile. "I just wanted to help any way I could. He's the one who ultimately chose to get help." You smile at him and he feels his heart melt. "And I'm glad he was able to make some great friends in there, from what he's told me."

"Aw, you talked about us?" Jung-su flashes Su-bong with puppy eyes, making the ladder roll his own.

"Plus, now he doesn't call me 'Señorita' anymore, so really I got something out of it too," you say.

The table bursts out in laughter and Su-bong hides his face behind his hands. "Maybe it was a mistake bringing you here, I didn't realize you were all going to gang up on me."

You laugh, rubbing his arm. "I'm just kidding. Come on, let's go get something to drink."

You move to stand but he puts a hand on your shoulder. "I got it. What do you want?"

You tell him your order, thanking him as he walks to the counter.

Ji-hae leans across the table to you. "He really likes you, you know," she smiles. "Talked about you all the time."

You smile. "He's a really great guy. I wish I could've talked to him sooner, maybe he would've gotten help sooner. He's my best friend now."

"You should go out with him," she says. "Based on how he talked about you, he'd treat you right."

You turn to look at Su-bong, smiling as he rocks back and forth on his feet while waiting in line.

"I do like him," you say, turning back to Ji-hae. "I just want to give him some time first. He just got out of rehab, I feel like he should have some time to figure out what he really wants and adjust to sobriety, if that makes sense."

"Totally," Jung-su says, nodding his head. "I've been out two months now and I still feel like this is all new."

"Just please be there for him," Shin-il asks.

You nod. "I'm not going anywhere."

On the other side of the coffee house, while waiting for your drinks, Su-bong feels a hand grasp his shoulder.

"Holy shit man," a familiar voice says behind him. "You dropped off the face of the earth!"

Su-bong turns to see the smiling face of Nam-gyu.

"Where have you been, dude?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to answer but is cut off when Nam-gyu continues.

"You know what, it doesn't matter." He pulls a small bag out of his jacket pocket. "I just got some new shit. It's fucking insane, man. You gotta try it."

He stares at the pills. This is the first time that drugs have been so accessible to him since before rehab. A cold sweat breaks out and his breath gets quicker. It would be so easy. All he'd have to do is pop one little pill.

He turns back to look at the table. You're sitting there, laughing with Jung-su. The sound flows to his ears and a soft smile graces his face. The sweat stops and his breathing goes back to normal.

He doesn't need pills anymore. He has you. And you make him so much happier than pills ever have or ever will.

He turns back to Nam-gyu, straightening his posture. "No, I don't do that stuff anymore."

Nam-gyu gives him a look. "Are you kidding, dude? You can't get this shit anywhere, and you're turning it down? What the fuck happened to you, Thanos?"

"It's Su-bong, actually," he says.

"No more Thanos!? What's going on?"

Su-bong opens his mouth to respond, but is beaten by another voice.

"Nam-gyu, leave him alone, please," you say, putting a hand on Su-bong's shoulder as you step beside him.

Nam-gyu looks between the two of you before a knowing smile spreads on his face.

"Oh, I see," he says. "So this is the guy you've been calling all the time." The barista calls out his name and he takes his cup. "Knew it was only a matter of time before you two got together, I should've bet on it." He turns, walking toward the door. "I'll see you at work!"

You wave to him as he leaves, turning to Su-bong. "Are you okay? He didn't give you anything, did he?"

He shakes his head. "He offered, but I said no. I was expecting him to be a lot less understanding."

"I've been talking to him the past few months at work, turns out he's not bad when he's not constantly sticking his nose up someone else's ass," you say, making Su-bong laugh. His name is called and you take the cups from the barista, thanking them before handing Su-bong's drink to him, taking his hand and leading him back to the table.

"Welcome back, Señorita," Shin-il smirks.

The table bursts out in laughter again and Su-bong stands from the table, waving goodbye to everyone. You grab his wrist before he can get too far, laughing along with him as he sits back down next to you.

<>

It's been about five months since Su-bong got out of rehab. He's been doing very good, resisting every time he feels even the slightest temptation.

He's gotten back into music and is working on his next album, which is going to be the first he's releasing that's not under the name "Thanos", instead rebranding as Choi Su-bong. You're of course his biggest supporter and he plays you all of his songs to get your opinion. You've even helped on a few songs, and he plans on crediting you as a co-writer.

Remembering what you told him nearly a year ago, he surprised you one day with your own guitar, taking the time to teach you how to play. You're still learning, but he loves everything you play, nearly as much as he loves your laugh whenever you play the wrong note.

You've been dancing around each other for the past few months, both aware of your feelings, but liking what you have going on between you for now. As time passes, though, Su-bong can feel himself getting closer to the edge, ready to take the leap.

One day you're both sitting in Su-bong's new apartment when he turns to you.

"Hey," Su-bong says. You look up from your phone at him. "I uh, I want to play something for you, if that's okay."

You smile, locking your phone and putting it face-down on the couch. "Yeah, I'd love that."

He stands up and reaches his hand out towards you. You take it, standing as he leads you to his piano. He sits on the bench, making room for you to sit beside him.

"I actually wrote this for you," he says, shyly looking at you. You smile at him, giving him a nod of encouragement. With a deep breath, he begins playing the notes before singing.

"I text a postcard sent to you Did it go through? Sending all my love to you You are the moonlight of my life every night Giving all my love to you."

You feel your eyes start to water as you listen to the words. His words reflect exactly how you feel, put in a way that makes it more beautiful than anything you could say to him.

You've heard him sing more ties than you can count. But sitting here next to him, listening as he pours his heart out to you, you don't think any song will ever compare.

"With every breath that I am worth Here on Earth I'm sending all my love to you So if you dare to second guess You can rest Assured that all my love's for you."

Su-bong puts his entire heart into the song. He had started writing it on the piano they had at the rehabilitation center. He had written a few songs while he was there, but this one was specifically inspired by you. The lyrics were from notes he would write down while talking to you, things that came to his head as your sweet voice drifted through the speaker of his phone.

"My beating heart belongs to you I walked for miles till I found you I'm here to honor you If I lose everything in the fire I'm sending all my love to you."

He stops playing, bringing his arms to his sides. He slowly looks up at you. "You've done so much for me. I don't think I can ever pay you back, but I'll spend the rest of my life trying if you'll let me."

A tear escapes your eye. You sniffle, nodding your head.

Su-bong reaches out to cup your cheek, wiping away the tear with his thumb. He looks down to your lips before looking back up to your eyes. "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

He leans forward, closing his eyes as his lips make contact with yours. Su-bong has kissed girls before, more than he'd like to admit, but he feels like a teenager kissing their crush for the first time.

This is a moment nearly a year in the making. All of his longing for you, his adoration of you is put into the kiss.

He pulls back, regaining his breath as he looks over your face. Your kiss-swollen lips are just begging to be kissed again, but there's something that needs to be done first.

"I love you," he says. "I've loved you for a long time. You're the most amazing person I've ever met and there's nothing I want more than to be with you."

You smile at him, and he feels starstruck by how beautiful you are. "I love you too, Su-bong," you say. "I'm forever grateful that you showed me the real you that day in my apartment. Because I love the real you. So much."

Su-bong's face lights up in a smile, leaning forward to capture your lips again in an awkward kiss that makes you both laugh.

All his hard work is paying off. He is finally worthy of happiness. He is finally worthy of you. And he's going to spend every day making sure he stays worthy.

Song: Last Night on Earth by Green Day

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a @sawlover353 @jspidey5 @skywalker0809 @zannispppp @lianobody

Pt 2 tags: @dweeebazoid @apookalypse @jxsibat @fallout-girl219 @senorittaaaa

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist

[genderqueerdykes]

I still feel really iffy about transandrophobia (a bit less so after your explanation) but the main thing confusing me is why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny? It can’t really stem from misandry because misandry is systematically not a thing. I’m starting to understand it a bit but i’m still SUPER confused. I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

hello there. i hope i can explain things that help make sense of it a bit better. i appreciate you coming back to ask more. please note that i'm saying this to be productive and not to hurt your feelings or anything. i just need to point out some key things that i see repeated often in these conversations

it's not "believing" that transandrophobia exists, it is acknowledging that it exists. this is not a religion. this is much like gravity in that this form of oppression doesn't cease to exist just because someone doesn't believe in it. it's not like god, belief is not necessary. it will happen regardless of whether or not you believe it's happening

i really need you to understand that transmascs and trans men are PEOPLE above all else and talking over them and telling them they don't actually know what they're going through and need someone else to explain it for them is so fucking horrible. please don't do that to an entire group of people. transmascs and trans men ARE reliable narrators on their own lived experiences. why is it okay to freak the fuck out when trans men speak for trans women, but trans women are the only ones we can listen to when it comes to trans manhood? please consider how screwed up this double standard is. if you refuse to listen to trans men talk about trans womanhood, do the same when trans women talk like they know everything about trans manhood.

why is it considered the intersection of being a man + being trans when it stems from transphobia and misogyny?

because that's not what it refers to! trans men and transmascs experience misogyny but they're not using "transandrophobia" to mean "misogyny 2". it's specifically because they are trans MEN and nothing else. we did not reinvent misogyny, this is a specific experience that we face that people can learn about if they just listen to us talk about it!

transandrophobia is a specific type of transphobia that is directed towards trans men and mascs that is specifically directed at them because they are trans MEN and trans MASCS. it's NOT stock standard transphobia, transmascs & trans men are specifically being targeted because they are trans MEN. being told that you're "not a real man" because you're trans isn't misogyny. being told you're "not really a gay guy" because you're trans isn't misogyny. mocking trans men for not having deep enough voices or enough facial hair to pass isn't misogyny. telling trans men they're not real men because they don't have penises isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they like women's clothing isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they work in a female dominated field isn't misogyny.

mocking trans men who can't grow body hair for not "being real men" isn't misogyny. telling them they're not real men because they have feminine interests isn't misogyny. telling them they're too short to be a man isn't misogyny. telling them their face or body isn't masculine enough to be a man isn't misogyny. trans men getting misgendered for their voices isn't misogyny. getting called a "tranny dyke" or a "cunt boy" when someone finds out a trans man is trans isn't misogyny... all of these things are transandrophobia. these no longer have anything to do with being perceived as a woman, these have to do with being perceived/attempting to be perceived as a man/masc.

trans men are affected by misogyny too, but it's not the same as transandrophobia. as a matter of fact, telling a trans man that they're experiencing misogyny when they aren't IS transandrophobia..

I also feel really bad that So Many ppl who believe in transandrophobia are really rude to transfems.

i'm going to lay it down painfully easily for you, but when you say things like that, it really comes across as virtue signalling. i'm going to be blatantly honest with you here. it really sounds like you're trying to suck up to transfems for brownie points by saying trans men don't suffer any forms of oppression at all and that people who acknowledge that transandrophobia exist are mostly rude transmisogynistic assholes. you're participating in silencing trans men & transmascs for the sake of trying to look more Trans Friendly to transfems and trans women and we can see it for what it is. please stop. this isn't flattering. it scares transfems and trans women when you do this because we don't know when you'll turn that hatred, malice and ignorance toward us whenever the narrative shifts again. this does not make us feel safe around you.

acknowledging that transandrophobia exists doesn't mean someone is attacking trans women and trans fems. like i'm sick and tired of the "people who believe in transandrophobia are really mean to transfems" shit. it's not true! this is way over exaggerated for the sake of making trans men and mascs look bad. i cannot stress how much this is NOT true for every single person who acknowledges that transandrophobia exists. i have a lot of friends who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, trans men, transmascs, and all other kinds of genders, including trans women and transfems! you know how many of them are ACTUALLY rude to or attack trans women?

0. none. i'm not saying those people don't exist but they are NOT the norm. hell, there are literally trans women who acknowledge transandrophobia exist. the world is not as tiny as you've been made to feel it seems. there ARE shitty people out there who acknowledge that transandrophobia exists, but it's not the norm. it's not the vast majority of us. we have to stop having this knee jerk reaction of "trans woman = defenseless pure cant ever hurt anyone constant victim always hurt by men no matter what the context is" and "trans man = evil because man subhuman deserves to die literally an attack to every and all trans women around them"

i would suggest actually reading the anons i get about transandrophobia if you want to learn more about it! please stop listening to people who AREN'T trans men and transmascs when it comes to what kinds of oppression they face. nobody else actually knows what they go through. please actually listen to THEM. it's not helping trans women by refusing to listen to literally every other kind of trans person. it's not alleviating trans women of the oppression we face to deny that other people can be oppressed, too.

also whether or not ppl wanna accept it, transmascs and trans men are human and you really, really do need to care about that. like genuinely. please just open your heart and care about transmascs and trans men in a way that doesn't involve throwing them under the bus to attempt to look better to transfems. it's not helping anyone. put your ego down for a good few hours and actually listen to other people- and yes, i really do mean more than just trans women. listening to trans women is great. we appreciate it. but stop silencing other people in order to do that. it's not necessary.

[ssentimentals]

prompt: this is reader’s first relationship & she’s just a little unsure of herself & how to be in a relationship?

seungcheol + inexperienced!reader

it's not a big deal. thats what you've been trying to tell yourself since seungcheol became your boyfriend. your very first boyfriend in your very first relationship. it's great, amazing and it's not.a.big.deal. if only your mind was so easy to trick.

'baby?' seungcheol calls over and you turn so quickly, you give yourself a whiplash. he raises one eyebrow at you, frozen with a big bowl full of popcorn in his hands. 'is everything okay?'

you gulp. you're doing a horrible job of not showing your insecurities if seungcheol can tell that something is wrong by standing five feet away. 'everything is fine,' you lie and it sounds so fake that you can't stop yourself from grimacing.

that, of course, only worries seungcheol even more. your boyfriend comes over, carefully placing full bowl on the floor before climbing on the sofa next to you. he doesn't get anywhere in your personal space and instead reaches out to take your hands in his. 'what's wrong?' he asks in such an earnest tone that you feel bad.

you almost want to tell the truth. your mouth almost opens, your tongue almost curves and forms the words that haunt your mind. almost. you draw back, swallowing hard. how can you tell the truth to someone like seungcheol? someone so confident and sure in himself, someone for who this relationship is not anything new; how can he understand you? you know that you're overthinking it. so many people told you that it's not a big deal and you agree, but what can you do if your mind always comes up with hundred and one ways to make you unsure in this whole thing? seungcheol's thumbs caress your skin gently and he waits so patiently for your answer that it makes your heart squeeze painfully in your chest. it also serves a good reminder - this is seungcheol. same seungcheol who held your bag and chaperoned you to every single class. same seungcheol who memorized your food allergies and favorite snacks, always checking labels of everything for any allergens and surprising you with sweets whenever you're least expected them. same seungcheol who took his time to know you, kept respectable distance till you got comfortable, waited for you to develop feelings for him as well. same seungcheol who looked the happiest when you agreed to be his girlfriend. it's the same seungcheol and you breathe out, willing your whole body to release the tension you've been holding.

'it might be a bit stupid, you warn, biting your lower lip.

seungcheol shakes his head. 'it's not, it won't be. share with me, baby. i can help, i promise. and if not then it at least will feel good to get this thing out of your chest.'

you smile. somehow he always knows what to say to make you at ease. 'i'm just worried, i guess.' you let out slowly, being careful with words. seungcheol nods, urging you to continue. 'like- ugh.'

it's unexpectedly hard. how do you tell him that being in relationship for the first time makes you nervous? that even during simple movie night you feel unsure on how to act? that your mind is clouded with 'what should i do' and 'am i suppose to do this' more often than you'd like to admit it? in the end, what ends up coming out of your mouth is: 'you're my first boyfriend and i'm just worried about... this.'

seungcheol waits for a little but when it becomes clear that you're not going to elaborate, he carefully asks: 'i'm not making you uncomfortable, am i?'

you shake your head, gripping his hands. 'no-no, cheollie. you don't.'

'alright,' seungcheol sighs in relief. 'but if i do - please tell me, okay? this is new for me too, i need to know if my actions somehow upset you. it's not going to work without a good communication.'

you blink. this is new for me too leaves you breathless. god. of course it's new for seungcheol too - he never dated you. you are a new person and it's new for him too, he doesn't know everything about you. he is also in this for the first time with you and this realisation makes you want to laugh. 'i had the most ridicilous thoughts,' you confess, chuckling a little. 'like- like how i can be good girlfriend.'

seungcheol looks so confused and baffled that this time you laugh for real, letting your head fall forward on his shoulder. 'are you serious? babe, looks at me. c'mon, show me your pretty face.' he makes you look up, cradling your face in his hands. 'are you serious?' when you nod shyly, he groans. 'oh my god. what on earth- baby. i am with you. i am dating you. we are together. i am so happy, why are you even thinking about this?'

you blush under his stare. 'cause you know that this is very new for me, i don't want to fuck up or something like that.'

'just be yourself.' seungcheol says it with so much conviction that you don't doubt his sincerity. 'just be you, i fell for you, i don't need anything else. we will move on your pace, don't worry about it. you can do whatever you want to do, act however you like - just be you.'

it takes a gigantic effort from you to not cry. you hug him tight and seungcheol hugs you even tighter right back, plastering himself all over you and leaving tiny kisses on your shoulder and head. his words fill you with so much warmth and relief, you sag in his arms. 'thank you,' you mumble.

'you don't have to thank me,' seungcheol whispers. 'just be you and you'll be the best girlfriend on this planet.'

it's cheesy and it makes you giggle and feel all of the butterflies in your stomach. you kiss his cheeks, sighing happily. 'okay.'

seungcheol smiles, caressing your back lovingly. he lets you two enjoy this moment, only pulling back when you move. 'now let's go back to our movie night, yeah?'

you nod. 'cuddle?' you ask shyly.

seungcheol's answering grin is blinding. 'of course, princess.'

a/n: is it very obvious that seungcheol is in my top3 of the members to write for? :') hope you enjoyed this one! - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[jupitermelichios]

I actively seek out terrible movies, I've seen almost everything Uve Bol has ever made, and I maintain a Letterboxd list called 'movies I genuinely regret watching', so this is a subject I've given a lot of thought to.

Super is the most bleakly nihilistic movie I've ever watched, and has a rape scene it plays as a joke because it's happening to a man. Spawn is so visually ugly it's actually physically painful to look at in places. Snyder's Justice League is over 4 hours long, 3 of those are unecessary slo-mo, and all of them are too dark to see what the fuck is happening. The animated Injustice: Gods Among us movie is so lazily written it managed to take one of the best comics ever written about the insidiousness of facism, and make an accidentially pro-facist movie. Performance famously made one of the actors quit acting in response to being in it, and watching made me seriously consider quitting watching movies in solidarity. Peter Rabbit 2: the Runaway has a moment where one of the characters looks straight at the camera and says "imagine if someone tried to make a soulless hollywood CG movie out of a beloved british children's book, wouldn't that be terrible?", and I'm not even joking about that.

The King's Man is so unfinished and incoherent I genuinely don't know how it got released, and watching Fant4stic feels almost exactly like slipping into a depressive episode.

But despite all the many many terrible movies I have seen in my life, many of which dealt me massive psychic damage, if we're talking massive disproportionate rage, the answer has to be 2014's TMNT.

Is it objectively the worst movie I've ever seen? God no. Is it the ugliest looking? Also no. Compared to Spawn, the hideous beige CGI turtles are practically an artistic masterpiece. Is the most morally bankrupt? Considering transformers 4's stance on statutory rape, it's not even the most morally bankrupt Michael Bay movie.

Does it make me wish I had a time machine so I could prevent the original TMNT comics from being written just so they could never inspire this fucking movie? Absolutely yes.

Is there a very real risk that I would just haul off and punch Michael Bay in the face for inflicting it on the world if I were ever the meet him? God yes.

Would I just walk out of the room and never return if someone told me they loved it? I could be on trial and I'd still at least try to just leave if my lawyer told me they liked it.

Do I think the world would be an objectively better, brighter, happier place if this 90 minute soulless heartless piece of low-key racist cgi garbage was erased from existence? Unquestionably yes, and you disagree we can never ever be friends.

I am fully aware my hatred is disproporiate, bad as the movie objectively is, but there's just something about it that makes me absolutely furious.

What would you guys consider the worst movie you've ever seen? Not something that's fun to make fun of, nothing you ironically enjoyed, I mean just an absolutely miserable moviegoing experience that you paid for, hated every second, and wish you had walked out of and asked for a refund.

For me, no joke, Madagascar 3: Europe's Most Wanted. It did not even feel like a real movie to me. It made me see red! I was SEETHING with anger and annoyance throughout the entire thing, and I cannot for the life of me articulate why. I saw it once in 2012 when I was 15, I remember almost nothing about it now, but it struck a nerve with me like no other movie ever has before or since.

Tell me in the tags, which movie makes you disproportionately angry just thinking about it?

[zoe-oneesama]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I URGE YOU TO TALK ABOUT THE SEASON 6 CHARACTER DESIGNS. Mostly cus i wanna hear the salt, but also because as someone who's designed many outfits for these characters over the course of multiple years, you more than anyone have your place to talk

Honestly the episode was just *okay*, so the designs are really the only place I'm particularly heated (I mean I still have my complaints on the episode, but nothing as anger inducing as Season 5):

So I'll start with the heroes:

I'm not mad about cutting off Bunnix because nothing's different.

Viperion - I like what they did with the mask and the deeper color contrast is delicious, but the suit feels like such a downgrade from the old design.

Carapace - I guess this is the Season of the Mask Facial Hair? Viperion is encroaching on this, but Carapace's little chin bit looks like a Soul Patch. Otherwise, it's a good design and I like the additions!

Vesperia - At least it looks like they fixed the weird root issue she had with her bangs from the old model. From what I can see here, I don't dislike this, like, full inversion making the top yellow and the pants black. Dunno what the ring around her thumb is though, and why does she hold her weapon like that??

Rena Rouge - it feels like they made changes to her because they thought they had to? I'm not mad at the differences, just...they sure are there. My only complaint about her is that they colored her tail as if she has two tails but she only has one? Like...just give her two coattails.

At least they ditched the corset U_U

Rooster Bold - The pose makes it hard to see, but he looks pretty cool to me! LOVE the new mask and his bitchy heels. Didn't like the mohawk then, still don't like it now.

Ryuko - this^ picture doesn't show her off, so here's her from the episode:

The suit is still nothing amazing, but I like the scale texture and shoulders, I LOVE the bigger horns, and her hair is fire~!

Miss Hound - yikes on this picture, thank god she cameo'd in the episode:

She's cute! ...Honestly anything was an upgrade, she was just wearing a recolored version of her outfit in Season 4-5, so the fact this is it's own thing is instantly better.

King Monkey - yikes the lighting on this is scary. Anyway, I can't really glean anything from this and the only thing that stands out is the horns on the circlet. I'll pend judgement for now.

Pegasus - Similarly to KM, there's not much I can note here? He's got longer hair so that's...something, but I like that now the visor is a full visor and not a floating pair of glasses. And we'll have to see it in an episode because here I like the contrast between the browns, but the old suit also had that contrast in promo material and then lost it in the episode.

Caprikid - Loooove the fur on the pants for some reason, and I die for the boots little hooves~ Bold choice to go bigger on the horns when there was some controversy about them, but hey. At least they fixed the problem with his white mask.

Minotaurox - aww what a cute widdle hammer. It really looks stunted, a lot of the weapons here look skinnier and weaker actually. I don't think I like the yellow on the horns, but I like that we can actually SEE the details on his suit now. And I like the hoodie/hair.

Argos - yep. That's Argos.

Purple Tigress - Okay, she looks dope AF! No notes, she looks awesome.

Pigella - And on the other hand...yikes. There so much going on here, and in fairness I can't fully understand what I'm looking at. This is not what I meant when I kept adding pig ears to my Pigella design!

Polymouse - Okay, no lie, I DID like her in this still image, but uhhh she's in the episode and um...

Girl no. What's with these LED strips?! WHY is your HAIR going THROUGH you hoodie?! And I know in comparison to the other characters she's still "plus sized" but this still feels...bad.

I won't talk about Ladybug and Chat Noir, they're good. Not exciting not bad just good.

Sooooo the humans.... Mostly I'm bothered by how some are so drastically changed and some are just...not. At all.

Alya - her new Mom lewk. Idk, I just feel like they could've gone harder. She looks fine, I actually like her hair when I watch the animation in motion, it's just...she looks 25 now.

Alix - uh, yep that's Alix. Wait, did her pony tail switch sides...?

Zoe - She's found her 2000s emo girl aesthetic and is clinging to those crusty shoes. I don't like it, her dumb tshirt was really my biggest problem with her old design so of course that's the part hey keep. She just looks...disjointed. I'll hold on judgment of her hair for now.

Kagami - love the hair, hate the crop jacket. It makes her skirt look reeeeeally short.

Sabrina - AH! NO! BAD! WRONG! Hate the hair, hate the pants, I don't even think I like her new glasses. This is a chop, a CHOP!

Juleka - I don't...hate the hair. I just weep for what we lost. I DO hate her new boring-er blouse which is just a weak imitation of her old top. Her hair is so wild so why did her clothes get more boring?

Rose - Season 6 Rose can't hurt you, Season 6 Rose can't hurt you, Season 6 Rose can't hurt you-!!

Mylene - I like her new outfit, it feels like the natural next step for her! I can't get a good look at her new hair though, so I'll reserve judgement.

Nino - Damn, finally a full glow up. Nino looks good! This is probably how I would have designed him the first time around, so, yay!

Felix - you fucking loser, you didn't change here either?! Are SentiBoys just stunted?!

Kim - His big change is...getting sleeves. And his roots are more visible? I guess??

Max - Why this nerd got a smolder all of a sudden? I think he'd look good if they just finally ditched the suspenders, or had them hanging down and not in use.

Nathaniel - Have...have I drawn him in this? I feel like there's a Scarlet Lady version of this. I guess that tells you I like it, right?

Ivan - Hell yeeeeees! GLOW UP! He's like "oh, I gotta wear this nose ring all the time? Better make it ALL WORK TOGETHER!!" I didn't know he had it in him, good job!

Luka - uhhh, is he wearing a different jacket, or is that his old jacket in the new animation style? At least he stopped advertising his own father on his chest. His shirt being tucked in...it disturbs me...

Marc - ...I can't tell if he even got a hair cut because it might just be the new style.

So yeah, I have quibbles but they're overall okay.

If you really want nightmare fuel, you see the kwamis.

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[shouyuus]

Hear me out on this🤚🏼 vi and reader arguing over something stupid and reader says something sideways that’s like Loki kinda freaky and vis like oh yeah mf and then boom freaky time but a bit of rough talk so vi can get reader to admit she’s right???

hahahahahahah /gunshots/ this grew legs and ran off on its own omfg; hope u enjoy!!! also credit where credit is due i immediately thought of this textpost when i saw this ask so. 18+, mdni dom/slightly mean!vi, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

"fuck you."

"no fuck you -- y'know what -- why don't you just edge me into next tuesday -- that'd be less painful --"

"i --" vi blinks, staring at you as you run your hands through your hair, still mumbling to yourself, apparently entirely unaware of the change your words have just wrought in her.

a spate of desire twists knife-sharp in her gut as vi imagines pressing you in half, a hand wrapped around your throat the other teasing between your legs, the way your hips might jump if she curled her fingers just so.

she wonders how quick she could get you begging; she wonders, a second later, how quick it'd get her on the edge when here she is, careening towards it at the mere thought of taking you apart.

"ugh -- whatever, i have to get back to my research paper -- i don't have time to --"

vi's arm shoots out and she's got her fingers wreathed around your wrist before she can stop herself. your alarmed look catches like a spark in the dry-grass tickle of her stomach and suddenly there's heat pluming up the back of her neck like smoke as she backs you into the apartment wall, licking her lips as she watches confusion and the hazy sheen of unmistakable want flicker to light behind your eyes.

"v-vi?"

she almost shivers. she thinks it's a testament to how well she's always treated you that you don't sound frightened -- only curious, and a little surprised.

"we're not done here, princess -- and i don't really think i like it when you try to walk away from me like that," she whispers, leaning in close enough to feel the way your breath stutters in your chest.

"vi -- i don't -- this isn't --"

but her questioning smirk as she pulls back silences the stumbling words on your lips as your cheeks go dark and your eyes cut away from hers.

"aww, c'mon princess --" and this time, she leans into the word like it might be an insult, doesn't miss the way your lashes flutter or the way your breathing's shallowed out to small little hitches, or the fact that you're stock still against the wall, even though her grip is light and there's nothing to stop you from pulling away.

"where's that fire from a second ago? weren't you just calling me a bad roommate for always forgetting to run the dishwasher before i leave?"

you swallow, the bob in your throat making her heart skitter up her ribcage like climbing up monkey bars.

"that... okay fine -- that was mean -- but it's not like i was lying about the --" your voice pitches as you look back up at her, and for a second, the hard light in your eyes catches again, only to sputter out as you meet her gaze for the second time, a guttering candle to a winter's breeze. vi bites back a grin. this is too easy.

"mm, but it still hurt my feelings, princess..." vi coos, leaning in to brush her lips by your cheek, reveling in the way you tremble beneath her, "and really, i don't think i'm that bad of a roommate, right? i take care of you, don't i?"

the moment her lips catch the lobe of your ear, you let out a soft whimper that makes vi's vision tilt sideways. and before she knows it, she's sucking a dark hickey into the skin of your neck and your fingers are fisting in her hair, making her groan.

she sinks her teeth into your skin, pulling back to pin you bodily to the wall, pressing a leg up between yours just to hear you keen.

"admit it -- don't i take good care of you?"

you whine through pursed lips, your eyes glazed out as you frown up at her, nodding faintly. she grins, feeling the heady, full-body rush of knowing she's got you right where she's been wanting you for weeks, for months.

"c'mon, say it --" she teases her free hand down the length of your body to flip up the hem of the large t-shirt you're wearing (it's one of hers; the thought catches her off-guard like punch to the side, the knowledge of it wringing through her with a bell-toll of desire) to skim along the hem of your cotton panties.

"y-you're -- you're not a bad roommate -- vi --" you twitch as she dips her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slicks a finger between your folds, hissing out at how wet you already are.

vi's grin is sour-candy-cyanide as she pulls back, her gaze half-lidded as she watches you chewing on your bottom lip.

"god, princess -- did that turn you on?" she asks, though both of you know the question is useless and purely rhetorical. she swallows down a thick moan as she inches a finger between your messy cunt lips to tease at your entrance. your answering huff only makes her chuckle, and this time, she does groan out when she finally eases her finger into you, feeling your hot, wet walls flutter around her, making her own cunt twinge with want.

"mm... i think i'd still like a formal apology -- tell you what," she says, putting on a false, considerate air even as she teases her finger in and out of you, nice and slow, almost thoughtlessly as she cocks her head, "admit that you were wrong and... we'll call it even, yeah?"

immediately, she sees you stiffen, feels you clench down around her as your eyes snap up. you've always hated admitting you were wrong, and even when you have apologized in the past, you've always danced around the words. and vi had thought it was just a cute little quirk of yours, chalked it up to your massive brain -- it must be so hard for someone so smart, so used to be in unequivocally correct all the time to admit, out loud, that they'd been mistaken.

a rush of heat crests into her chest at the thought, and she quirks her finger inside you to brush against the tender spot she knows will get your eyes rolling.

and it does, but not before you give your head a tiny, obdurate shake.

vi sighs, licking her lips as she brushes her thumb against your clit and watches, with a thrumming satisfaction, as your mouth falls open around a silent moan.

"just three little words, princess -- and then... i promise, i'll make you feel so good..." she croons the words into your ear, shudders at the thought of making you cum, of how good you'd look shaking over her fingers. "unless," she hums, "you really would like me to edge you into next tuesday, which --" she makes a noncommittal sound, "saturday afternoon and i've got early morning practice tomorrow, but i'm sure something can be arranged."

you let out another debauched moan as she bullies a second finger into your wet heat, still fucking them into you at that mind-bogglingly slow pace. you try to arch your hips, but her other hand slams you back against the wall.

she tuts, leaning back ever so slightly.

"uh-uh, i don't think so."

you scowl and try to shove at her shoulder, but there's no strength in the motion and the hand on your hip flashes up a second later to grab both your wrists, pinning them above your head in a single fluid move.

it happens so quickly you barely have time to gasp before she's leaning forward again, her words hot as she murmurs into your ear --

"go on, princess, try to fight back -- give me a reason to get rough with you."

at once, you still, but the you give both your wrists an experimental tug, only for vi to tighten her hold. you can't quite stop the moan that works its way out of your throat, nor can you control the way your pussy slickens impossibly around her fingers as she laughs, the sound caught somewhere between amused and mocking.

"gonna admit that you were wrong, princess?" she asks, crooking an eyebrow.

you press your lips and whine, looking away. her fingers pump a few more times inside you, her thumb finding your clit with truly disarming ease.

"vi -- f-fuck --!" you yelp as she flicks her thumb and your whole body jolts, electric tendrils of pleasure ricocheting through you, harsh as a loose bullet.

"there y'go... c'mon -- be a good girl and say it --" vi can't quite stop the way her voice frays around the edges as she leans in to ghost her lips over yours, her vision tunneling as she starts to fuck you with her fingers proper, working them into you in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, watching as you expression falls slack.

"mm -- nnngh -- please, vi -- i --"

"ah... that's pretty good but... still not an apology," she muses, slowing her pace again, dragging both her fingers along your inner walls, pressing them up, watching as your eyes squeeze shut, your entire body jerking as she massages your clit from both ends.

"i -- i'm s-sorry, 'm sorry, i -- i was wrong -- fuck -- oh -- shit, that feels -- v-vi --!"

"thereee you go... that wasn't so hard, was it?" vi soothes, picking up the pace, grinning as you keen, your knees nearly giving out, but she's got you held up by your wrists, her thigh still slotted between yours, her fingers plowing into you till you're almost writhing against her.

she lets out a long groan, low and thick, a panting gasp working out of her as she fucks you through your orgasm, watching with soft-eyed wonder as you whimper, your whole body twitching with the aftershocks.

"hey, hey, princess -- you still with me?" she asks, letting go of your wrists in favor of cupping your cheek, swiping a tender thumb along your skin. you lean into her touch, your head lolling ever so slightly as your lashes flutter and you fight to focus your eyes.

"y-yeah -- think so..."

vi laughs, slowly tugging her fingers from you, unable to keep a grin from twisting at the corner of her mouth as you shudder at the loss.

"jesus, princess..." she says, holding up her hand -- there's wetness slicking down the back of her hand all the way to her wrist. you blink at it for a second before a tiny, embarrassed scowl digs itself between your brows.

"i -- you --"

vi laughs, shaking out her hand and reaching for an errant napkin on the dining table to wipe down her fingers.

"no, no -- i'm not makin' fun -- it's actually kinda hot."

you purse your lips, cheeks stained damson as she watches you readjust your panties, tugging on the hem of her large t-shirt.

"still think i'm a bad roommate?" vi asks, biting back a smile, her heart caught somewhere in the back of her throat.

you look up, eyes bright, your head already shaking.

"no! i -- that was --" your head drops back down even as your shoulders shrug up, "i... i was just annoyed but i -- i didn't mean it --"

a beat, in which vi finishes cleaning off her hand and strides over to throw the wad of napkin in the trash.

"i... i'm sorry," you say, your voice small.

vi looks up to find you watching her from beneath your lashes.

"'s okay, princess. apology accepted." she smiles, and this time there's no poison hidden in it's corners, only the steady sweetness you've come to know her for.

"i -- uhm --" you clear your throat, still worrying at the hem of the shirt. vi cocks her head.

"i can make it up to you... if you want --" you say, barely meeting her eyes.

vi pauses, her eyebrows kicking up. a second later, she's grinning again, rolling back her shoulders and leaning into one of her hips.

"yeah? and... how'dyou propose you do that?"

you bite down on your bottom lip and jerk your head towards the open door of your bedroom, even as vi's stomach gives an unruly lurch at the clear implication.

she fights to keep her expression flat as she looks you over.

"damn, princess -- you really weren't kidding about that tuesday-thing, huh?"

you crinkle your nose, sniffing slightly, even as vi brushes by you, breezing into your bedroom and plopping herself onto your bed with a satisfied sigh. you follow her in a moment later, climbing on after her and giving her shoulder a tiny shove so that she's backed up against the apartment wall and you've got room to straddle her lap.

"well... i have been thinking about it for... for a while," you admit, your voice soft as you thumb at the collar of her shirt.

vi groans, her palms settling around your waist, fingers digging into the plush of your ass.

"yeah? oh fuck -- ah --" she jerks as you trail your hands down her front, pausing to tease her nipples over the material of her shirt.

"mhm..."

"what else have you been imagining in that big, beautiful brain of yours, hm?" vi asks, breath hitching as you tug the shirt from her and lean down to ghost your mouth over her hardening nipples, tongue flickering out to tease at the cold metal piercings.

"lotsa stuff," you say, almost casual as you wiggle down to settle yourself comfortably between her legs, glancing up at her with what can only be called a chesire-grin --

"w-wanna tell me about it?" vi asks, reaching up a hand to run her fingers through your hair. you hum, laving a tongue against her nipple before sucking the entire thing into your mouth.

a groan punches out of her as she shudders, her head tipping back with a dull thunk against the apartment wall.

"i could... but it'd be so much faster if i just... showed you, no?"

[mr-mercutio]

I remember once I was at a T-shaped intersection, crossing on the right side of the T from top down. About a second into walking into the street, y'know - after waiting for the lights to change and the walk signal to come on, this guy revs up and pulls into the intersection, ready to turn right. Already breaking the law of course, pulling right into the street before I was all the way across. And then he leans out of his window and starts screaming at me to hurry up and get across the street.

I didn't even have the opportunity to check for this fucker to see if he was going to let me cross. Put aside that I had right of way and had waited for the lights to change, he hadn't even BEEN at the intersection, just came zipping down at me.

I didn't feel terrified until after the whole thing was done. In the moment I was just so angry because how dare he, honestly? How dare he come so close to being able to just murder me with his fucking truck and then get mad at ME because I'm slowing him down by a few seconds?

I was so mad that I actually stopped in the middle of the crosswalk and looked him dead in the eyes. And I wish this was the part of the story where I could say he looked ashamed of himself, where I could think maybe he learned something that day that would change how he drove or treated people. Maybe he looked back at me and realized how much power he held over my life in that moment and mouthed "sorry" at me.

But no, he just got more angry and leaned on his horn and called me a faggot. I must have been the worst part of his day, the way he was acting.

So I just gave him the finger and resumed crossing the street, albeit at a snail's pace because I'm a petty little bitch when I'm mad. And as soon as there was any clearance behind me he went zooming off, still screaming at me. I could see another driver waiting at the intersection, one who had a red light still, look absolutely horrified. I think she felt more shame as a driver than this guy did.

And seeing her face was when I felt scared. When the reality dawned on me of how easily I could have been killed in that moment just because I was an inconvenience to an asshole. I slowed him down for an extra 20 seconds, and he treated me like absolute trash. He could have killed me so easily. The only power I had in that moment was to make his day just a little bit worse by extending the inconvenience a few more seconds. And I took that power gleefully in the moment, but I really shouldn't have. I should have just crossed the street because what if he did decide then to run me over? I would love to say that even this douchebag supreme wouldn't be that bad, but honestly? How could I know? If he was that willing to fly off the handle with zero provocation, I shouldn't have trusted that he wouldn't run me down for slowing down and giving him the finger. But taking the tiny bit of power I had in that moment felt really good and necessary in the heat of the moment.

I dunno, I don't have a good lesson here. I don't regret it in the slightest but I do also think it wasn't the safe thing to do. It wasn't worth the risk of dying in that moment.

Some people have no concept of the power they hold. This story is far and away not the only time I feel like I've come close to being killed by drivers who were stupid, angry, mean, or just plain not paying attention. I wish more people would remember that they're piloting a killing machine at high velocity and I'm just a little fleshbag out in the open air. I have to be so careful, and it makes me a bit bitter to watch the drivers who blithely zoom around and forget to stop or slow down or check for pedestrians like me.

Nothing exposes the inability of people to navigate power imbalances quite like the relationship between drivers and pedestrians.

For example, I just had a driver get screaming-at-me mad because I stopped walking at a slip lane to make sure he was going to stop. And like, buddy, I know I have the right of way, but if I assume you are going to stop and I guess wrong, I will literally die. Whereas if I wait to see if you're actually going to slow down, I am just delaying both of us by a couple of seconds. And that might have more to do with why I made the choice that I did than my being a stupid bitch who needs to learn the rules. Like, if you can't understand why the fact that you could effortlessly accidentally kill me (and likely face no consequences) means I am reticent to assume the best from you, maybe you just shouldn't have any power over anyone ever.

[nightfury-2001]

also can i just talk more about how awful the cinematography/shot composition is in a lot of the live action httyd stuff we've seen so far. idk maybe i'm just missing something - i don't have any sort of formal education in filmmaking or anything like that - but a lot of the shots so far seem to be a straight downgrade from the original film. like it honestly seems like they don't know what they're doing. it's truly baffling

^ e.g., one of my favorite shots from forbidden friendship. in the original, both toothless and hiccup are positioned close to the center of the frame. there's a gap between them, which may seem like a small detail but it's one that means a lot i think. the gorgeous pink sky is behind them, while the surrounding cliffs and trees frame them. toothless' perked ear plates are fully visible, allowing the audience to get a better idea of the curiosity he's feeling. his wings are also cleverly hidden/tucked away behind his back, giving him an incredibly strong silhouette.

compare that to the live action version. hiccup is centered, with toothless close beside him - parts of his left wing and leg are literally behind hiccup. instead of them being against the sky with the cliffs and trees framing them, the cliffs/trees are directly behind them. the entire thing is more zoomed in, leading to things like toothless' ear plates being mostly out of the frame. toothless' silhouette also isn't as strong with his wings visible like that.

idk. it just looks bad. and don't even get me started on what they've done to the downed dragon lmao

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

You know, I think what I find most frustrating about this season of 911 is that, like, EVERYTHING we've been complaining about is such an easy fix.

Bobby and Athena having an ultimately aimless storyline rehashing their marriage issues without actually resolving them? Pick up that thread of Athena being thoroughly unimpressed with the people that are slipping out of the academy and give her a really juicy storyline of deciding if she can do more good on the streets or as an academy instructor training the young blood. You're gonna tell me Angela wouldn't act the HELL out of a woman who's been defined by her identity as a cop trying to decide if it's time to pass the torch and train the new generation? Also gives us a plethora of new side characters and storylines in her academy classes that by the nature of the beast don't have to be permanent or super fleshed out.

And then have her and Bobby navigating what they feel when he's still active duty and throwing himself on the front lines when she's stepped back. Is she jealous? Does she worry about him more or less? Is HE jealous of her new role? Is he considering a similar role for himself now? Who does he start grooming to take over the 118. Is Hen the natural choice or is Buck ready? How does that make THEM feel?

Oh, Madney have another accidental pregnancy (dumb as fuck, they could've made it so much more dramatic without it being stupid if they'd just said Chim had gotten snipped after they reunited and it failed. Drama without including the very real fact that it is highly irresponsible of them to even risk pregnancy when her ppd got THAT bad.)? Actually explore how they be careful and cautious without going into it with the mindset that Maddie is broken. Is she AFRAID of the joy and ease she's experiencing, waiting for the other shoe to drop? Is Chim struggling with striking a balance between being OVERprotective and missing the red flags entirely like last time? How do the changes in their relationships with their parents come into play? Hell, let's get spicy and have Chim maybe express a desire to have his children be more connected to his culture and how a biracial family would really explore that.

Hen and Karen are shoehorned into a palatable portrayal of divine motherhood for all their scenes? Okay, fine, but shake it up. Give Karen a promotion opportunity that would require them to move, or for her to be home less just when Mara's finally settling in. How do they deal with that? Does Hen want to start climbing the ladder (heh) in the LAFD? What if she's NOT the pick Bobby has in mind for replacing him? Does she fight for it, or think about going somewhere else?

Buck is once again in the position he ALWAYS ends up in, alone and abandoned by everyone he thought he could count on as permanent, heartbroken at once again watching a relationship slip through his fingers? This one's the easiest. Make him fucking follow through on the realization he supposedly had in his coma dream. He's enough. His life is worth something, and he is the one who decides what happens in his life. He's all alone? Fine, then have him make the decision to fight for another chance with Tommy or walk away from it permanently BY HIMSELF. No friends telling him what's best for him. No well-meaning platitudes that the universe will send him someone special. Just him having a goddamn Ryan Gosling/Rachel McAdams scene all by himself. What does he want? It's not that simple.... WHAT DOES HE WANT? And then fucking go for it.

Eddie is three post traumatic stress disorders in a trenchcoat pretending to be a functional human being? I mean, what else is new? But also, like...this one is also easy. Make him address it. Preferably with intense therapy, but I'd even accept him doing it by himself. Make him confront the fact that him doing what he thinks he has to has fucked up his life and his relationships in every way possible. Examine how much he turned out like his father despite clearly wanting NOT to. Accept that he loved Shannon very much, but they were doomed from the start because he couldn't let go of his fears of what would happen if he wasn't "the provider" and so when Shannon's own issues also came into play, the center couldn't hold. Fix his damn relationship with his son.

And, of course, against the backdrop of all of this is the serial killer storyline. Sure, let's have fun with it. My pet theory is that they are faking all of us the fuck out with the killer going after Maddie and Buck is either going to date the serial killer (or an accomplice) on a rebound and get kidnapped himself, or this is all tied into that black book storyline. Spend a few episodes setting all the good, juicy, emotional character stories we've been BEGGING for up, with a few fun call stories for flavor, and then knock the lead up to the finale out of the park with our firefam coming together to save the kidnapee (and yes, I'm a shipper at heart, so fuck it, let's have Chim call our favorite hot pilot in for transport services again, for a BuckTommy reunion in the back half...even better if Buclk's the kidnapping victim, cause then it's not even a favor, it's Tommy riding to the rescue).

Hell. I'll even throw in a fucking Brad explanation and have him be involved in the black book and that's why he's been so unstable and angry and refusing to let Bobby disappear.

Just. There's so much potential being left on the ground to rot. They could still carve out something amazing. It would be EASY. It's all right there. Even the most bloodless, half assed attempt at some of this could be turned into something awesome by this cast.

It's just frustrating.

(ETA, I don't think it's irresponsible of Maddie to ever get pregnant again or want more kids, I think it was irresponsible of them to leave themselves in a position where ACCIDENTAL pregnancy was a risk. No, ppd doesn't mean you're broken or shouldn't have kids, but Maddie's experience looked way more like post partum psychosis)

[daenysx]

I seriously love the vibes of all your sleepovers. Can I ask for modern!au where James Potter babies and comforts reader when she’s having a hard time? If not totally understand <3

James has big hands. Big, not so soft because the air is dry and he neglects applying hand cream, but always gentle. He's really good at putting on the right amount of pressure as he rubs wide circles on your back. You kind of want to melt here and never deal with anything else.

It's a bad day. More like a bad week. You can find reasons or maybe excuses if you try hard enough, but you don't want to. You feel beyond overwhelmed, so emotional but also so empty. Something disturbs your stomach, your legs get numb if you don't stretch them enough. Your body doesn't feel like it's yours and- that's too annoying to be true.

James is here. He always is. His fingers press on the tight spots on your back and you try to relax. It works, mostly. It works better when he kisses you.

"Can I get a kiss?" you ask him with a low voice. You know he tries to be cautious, not overbearing, just here for you. You don't mind asking for things.

"Of course," he says, cupping your cheek to get you closer. "You can have as many kisses as you want."

This is a good promise. You feel better, focusing on James' lips and controlling your breathing. His thumb gently circles on the skin of your neck, you sigh softly. He takes his time, cuddling up and holding you in his lap. A hand goes on your thigh to stroke the tight muscle.

"I feel better," you tell him. He never asks verbally, but you know he likes it when you let him know. Your fingers linger on his cheeks, he smiles broadly, the kind of sunshiny one you love seeing so much.

"Happy to hear that, angel girl," he kisses your neck sweetly. "Are you hungry? Maybe we can order something, Sirius was talking about a new place."

You shake your head. "Can we decide later?" Suddenly making the simplest decisions is hard.

"Sure," he agrees. "You know, actually I changed the coffee brand we always get. Do you wanna try it?"

"Hmm," it sounds good, you just don't think you can leave the bed.

"I can just make it really quick."

"I'm gonna come with you to kitchen," you tell him. "Just- 5 minutes later."

He laughs, and it's bright. He's so strong as he pulls you to his chest, hugging you so tight. "My sweetheart, did I tell you how much I love you today? You smell so good, I wish we could just stay like this forever."

"I love you." you say with your softest voice.

"I love you, I love you so much," he kisses his way on your neck, holding you in his lap so tight. "My sweetest angel, I love you so much."

You laugh, smiling so big as he kisses you again and again. He keeps holding you until you're ready to go to kitchen, you're on clouds, being in love with him feels so safe- you like being in his arms. You like being kissed so sweetly. You like how you can stop thinking, he's here and he thinks of everything when you can't.

starry girl sleepover ☆

[horsefreek151]

My father is a 6ft 3inch tall viking of a man. This man has to wear bow tyes at work (hes a computer teacher). He will get down on his knees to meet and greet with little kids. My parents owned two large Bernese mountain Dogs that were raised as therapy dogs to work with them at school to help kids feel more comfortable.

He hates little dogs. Hates them. Calls them yappy little rats, never liked that I wanted a toy poodle growing up. Always prefers big dogs and would avoid the small ones. He also "Didnt Like" My pet rats growing up. He never really got why I loved having pets so much.

I am disabled and suffer from pritty bad CPTSD, the kind with night terrors and flashbacks and sometimes not knowing where I am or whats really happening around me. We got my service dog to first treat that but she also started alerting to my POTS and is how I got diagnosed with it. Before her I raised and breed rats as ESA to help treat the ptsd. I still breed rats. Back in collage I would catch him with the rats in the bonding bag cooking dinner. This man try's to hid it but he LOVES animals of all shapes and sizes.

In 2023 my husband and I got married at his parents cabin. We brought our pets with us on our honeymoon at the same place so they were at the ceremony. Our Male 13lb Kitten, A beloved Elder rat of mine and my Service dog Universal Healthcare (uni) who is a 6lb toy poodle. Uni was on duty at the ceremony as I really struggle with being the center of attention. Cue me seeing my dad holding my cat while eating a bagel complaining about how much the cat likes him.

The reception was at our local game store and Uni got to be on light duty during it and socialized. I didn't see her for about half an hour. Cue me walking over and seeing her fast asleep in my dads arms like a little baby him cooing over her and saying "I like my granddaughter much more than my grandson" happily eating some cake. This dog could sleep in his shoe and he is just doting on her. "Not like a little rat now is she" I said and he smiled and responded "No no much better than the rat tho I don't mind the rat that much"

Sometimes big guys just need to get over the toxic masculinity and love on a tiny pet.

A group of rough looking boys walked past me today and all I heard of their conversation was “he’s got that anxiety disorder bro so I went with him so he’d be more comfortable” and it made me realise the world isn’t all that bad