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lady-lauren · 3 months ago

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❥ SHANKS X FEM!READER

❥ WORD COUNT: 2.3k

❥ WARNINGS/TAGS: forced orgasms, some yandere vibes, dub-con to be safe, very inappropriate use of conqueror's haki, power dynamics (captain/crew), praise, creampie, Shanks is so mean but so good and I would die for him

→ Kinktober Masterlist ←

“You’re gonna cum for me, darlin’, even if I have to take it from you.”

The weight of his words curl around your throat like a vice, blood pumping in your ears you until can barely hear his boisterous laugh.

The smile he gives is so cheshire, so oddly genuine, it makes a shiver of fear run down the back of your neck. Perhaps it’s actually pleasure, but the emotions are too entangled for your brain to piece apart your state of mind.

He’s not letting you go this time, not until he gets what he wants.

“Shanks,” you plead, nails gripping into the black fabric of his cloak, “we shouldn’t, you’re my captain, and I—”

“And your captain knows what’s best for you. Promise.”

The playful lilt in his voice is disarming.

He always lures you in so easily, and usually you can squirm away, calm your raging heart and pretend like you’re not the object of his desires. Because you shouldn’t be, you can’t be, you’re honor bound to serve him as your captain and you refuse to let lust cloud your relationship to Shanks. He helped make you a pirate. You’re more than a mistress.

Yet he’s already stripped you bare for him tonight, easy work for one of the most powerful men on the seas.

Warm lips press into your cheek as you turn your face from him, gritting your teeth as you deny his kiss.

Shanks chuckles in the face of your defiance, squishing his fingers into your cheeks to make you look at him.

“You know, you really are cute, thinking you can stop me. Besides, don’t you want to follow Captain’s orders, hm? That’s why I picked you—you’re so loyal, always willing to please. But you should please and be pleased.”

His eyes close with a sincere smile, the pink scars nearly shining in the firelight of his room.

Perhaps you do forget sometimes how weak you are compared to him, to the man who can cut down enemies with a single gaze.

Trapped between his colossal body and the wall, you have nowhere to run, no way to slink off and keep only ghosts of his touches. He’s going to make you feel every moment.

“Want me to show you how good I can make you feel?”

“Trust me, I know, I know how good you’d feel, but I can’t—”

“You have no idea.”

Somehow he feels closer, as if the sun-kissed skin of his chest from his parted shirt is already blending into yours. He is darkness clouding over you, engulfing you.

He cups your chin with his hand, big fingers spilling down onto your neck. He slants his mouth over yours before you can protest, moving plush lips until you can’t help but moan. Spiced rum, aged and smooth, greets you when his tongue slides between parted lips. He kisses like a dance, like a back and forth that he leads.

“Breathe,” he whispers, and you don’t have to ask why. You sense his conqueror’s haki in the air before you feel the power lick at your skin, dragging and pulling and hot.

“Cum for me.”

Lightning quick, your tummy tightens, the pleasure centers of your brain on overload as he overtakes you. Desire boils down to your cunt like a poisonous liquid heat, unbearable, sinful, yet so, so blissful as your pussy flutters and you fall over the crest of orgasm.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck you, fuck, fuck…” Your eyes squeeze closed as the ecstasy is literally ripped from your body, like he somehow sunk his hand inside your core and extracted all the delight he craves.

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

You can’t help but nod, because yes, it does, as if pleasure is bursting like supernovas underneath your skin. Your hands are clinging to him, one around the back of his neck, the other beneath his shirt, like you can’t help but be closer to the source of your heat.

“Shanks, I…” your tongue is so thick in your mouth, searching for words you can’t think of.

“Now imagine just how fucking good you’ll feel when you do that on my cock.”

“Please, oh, god, please.”

His famous laugh greets your ears and you’re almost knocked back to the reality of who has you in his grasp.

“That’s my girl.”

You’re in his bed before you know it, eyes glassy at the sight of his naked body. You knew he’d be beautiful, but the actual view of him, on his knees, pumping his cock in his hand while between your legs has you whining.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head? Tell me.”

“I…want you, so badly, and I-I’m sorry for pushing you away. I never—”

He shushes you, takes his hand from his cock so he can brush the back of his finger across your cheek, “You were just doing what you thought was right. Didn’t wanna just be my plaything, did you? I know you wanted to be my strong little pirate, but you can be both.”

“Promise?”

“Swear it.” He grins like a little boy as he mockingly draws an X across his heart with his finger.

How can someone so deadly be so adorable?

Your instincts are flaring again, telling you to run, that once he sinks his claws into you, you’ll only ever be his. Nothing more, nothing less.

Maybe that doesn’t sound so bad, especially not with how good it feels when he buries his hand between your thighs, fingers playing in your wetness.

Shanks is equal parts messy and methodical, swirling his fingers around in your slick folds before rubbing his thumb over your already sensitive clit. You cry out, back arching and nails digging so deeply in his pillows you swear you hear fabric rip.

“Think I made you wet enough to take my cock already, don’t you?”

To prove his point, he slides his slick-drenched fingers between your lips, letting you taste yourself. You nod your affirmation as you suck against his skin, his eyes shining as you wrap your tongue around his fingers.

You eye his cock between his legs, preening at the thought of having him inside you. His cock is pretty, fat, already leaking and veins straining beneath silken skin. Red curls crawl up his toned stomach and you nearly drool around his fingers.

All you ever wanted was to be a pirate, but the sight of your captain’s cock has you content to be a whore.

“Been dreamin’ about you in my sheets ever since I found you, darlin’. Knew you were the one for me, my perfect girl.”

“Oh please,” you gasp as he draws his fingers from your mouth, dragging them down to your tit so he can pinch your nipple, “you know what praise does to me, Shanks.”

“Of course I do,” he sing-songs, grasping his dick and pushing his tip between your folds. He presses in, a cant of his hips shoving his cock halfway into your dripping hole. Your head falls back at the stretch, cooing at the feel of him.

Shanks is clearly done chasing you, mindset moved to capture, to take. He bottoms out and immediately starts moving, grinning as he watches your pussy lips drag along his length.

He wolf-whistles at the sight, making you flush with a strange mixture of embarrassment and pride. “Look at that pretty fucking pussy. So slutty already for me.”

Strong fingers push your thigh back, spreading you wide as he starts his pace.

“Now,” Shanks clicks his tongue against his teeth, “let’s see what it feels like when I make you cum around my cock.”

“You don’t, ah,” you gasp as his cockhead prods against a soft spot, “h-have to make me, I’ll—”

“Shh, I’ll take care of you, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

There’s no time to think, not with how fast he acts, a simple look into your eyes has you shattering until you scream. The pleasure claws from your depths all over again, more intense now that your cunt has his fat cock to convulse around. You suck him in deep as you fall, bliss blooming over every nerve ending. Your toes curl, your nails cut into his shoulders, your stomach nearly hurts from the twisting of your orgasm.

“God damn, you feel so fucking good when you do that, get so tight around me.”

“Sh-Sha—mhm, fuck,” you try to protest, to say something, but the way his body moves into yours is like the mesmeric waves, lulling you into a headspace of drifting euphoria.

He’s all over you—hand in your hair, tongue sliding down your neck, lips sucking at the fat of your tits, teeth scraping along your curves. He’s all encompassing, snaking his arm behind your back until you're pressed against his thick chest and rocking with every thrust.

The orgasms have made you numb, all you feel is pure carnality, like now you just exist to fuck and be fucked.

For a moment you wonder if he’s still forcing it on you, but you decide you don’t care. He’s the only one who can make you feel like this, haki or no.

Shanks brushes his nose down your cheek, lips hot and wet as he kisses your skin, “Touch me, baby, be with me.”

Like puppetry, your hands trace his musculature, taking note of how his shoulders roll with every push and how his abdominal muscles stiffen whenever your cunt spasms from pleasure.

You kiss over the freckles on his shoulder, down to the thick bicep he no longer wraps in bandages.

He groans as your lips get close to where his arm used to be, a purr from deep in his chest like you’re too close to something vulnerable.

“Gonna take from you again, darlin.’ Gotta feel your cunt suck me dry.”

“N-no I can—I can do it, I can cum for you, promise.”

“Mhm, where’s the fun in that when I can just make you?”

His hand snakes around your body, letting you sink into the bed free of his hold. He teases your clit just because he can, because he likes watching you wiggle and writhe and whine beneath him.

You suck in a sob, “Please, just a little more, more, and I—”

Shanks’ haki feels like the warm licks of familiar fire. He burns because you let him too close, stared too long at the flames.

You’re sure he purposely brings the assault of his conqueror's power on slower, lets it bleed and blend with the ecstasy building from the sensitive pressure on your clit.

This crest is bigger, fuller, like you’ve been thrown from the Red Force into the toiling dark ocean. Only it’s boiling, scorching and tugging the pleasure from deep within your belly.

“Oh god,” you throw your head back and whine, “too hot.”

Shanks groans deep from his chest, fingers pausing on your clit as he feels you cum around him. His thighs shake, cock twitching and throbbing. Mean fingers dig into the softness of your belly like he’s clinging to sanity, holding himself back just enough to be in control.

“One more, baby.”

He starts thrusting again, a slow grind into your depths that has red curls kneading into your clit. You feel him in your guts, your heart, like the beat of blood in your veins.

“C-can’t, god, can’t, please.” Please no. Please yes. You’re back in an entanglement of emotions where no way is up, the sun still so far from underneath the waves.

Shanks buries his face in your neck, red hair fanning like embers across overheated skin.

He sucks at your pulse, flesh between his lips, “yes you can, my good girl. For me.”

You’re slammed into a new atmosphere, floating for seconds before being dragged back down, down to where you feel details of your name whispered against your throat and the pulsing of a thick cock as ropes of cum spill into tight, gummy walls.

“Fuuuucckk, oh g-god, Shanks, hurts, so good, shit—”

You babble until your mouth runs dry, anchored by your captain’s bruising grasp on your hip. He has you flush against his body, heavy breaths syncing as you both float up from hell.

It’s like waking up from a dream when he starts kissing you, all feather-light and reverent. He sits up and his lopsided smile seems so sincere.

“So proud of you, really thought you were gonna pass out there for a second.” He laughs playfully, blowing a stray red hair from his face.

All you do is whine and shift your sore hips, gasping at the feel of his cock still hard and deep inside you.

You’re not sure how much time passes before he pops his dick out—your heart beats are too erratic to count as seconds.

He sinks praises into your skin, kissing down your breasts, your belly, making you jerk when he kisses the mound of your pussy.

His breath is hot on your clit. That feeling has your mind shattering like porcelain, a sharp smack centering you straight back into reality. You sit up and stare at the scene before you, sharp-eyed prey watching a predator in the forest.

“Shanks, no, please, for the love of god—”

“No no no no, it’s okay,” he coos from between your legs, eyes closing and head cocking to the side as he smiles, “I’m not gonna take this one from you. Promise. Gonna let you do it all by yourself, nice and slow.”

It’s easy to forget that Shanks is a bad liar when he shoves his pretty face down to eat his cum from your pussy.

#kinktober #shanks smut #shanks x reader #tw.yandere #one piece x reader #shanks x you #one piece smut #one piece shanks #akagami no shanks #akagami no shanks smut #akagami shanks smut #akagami no shanks x reader #op x reader #dripping banner by @/adorenedwithlight

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robolvrr · 1 month ago

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silk baby ✧⁠*°•

idw prowl x gn! human reader

nsfw. tags: lingerie, hatesex, petplay (wink), humiliation kink. let's get kinky.

you infuriate him.

it's almost insulting. the uniform your kind has given you, the shiny, golden lapels and glittering badge. you've served no war, fought no battles and have a fraction, no, a blink of his lifetimes experience in diplomacy.

when he first heard of your transfer from optimus himself he scoffed audibly.

files upon files were downloaded and analyzed of you immediately.

you're young. all of your people compared to cybertronians are. but you're still fresh-faced, no scars of time and still speak in those sweet, hopeful hums that makes his spark crackle.

he decides that reaction is hate.

and he shouldn't be feeling it, shouldn't be questioning his alliance and the brand on his chassis when he thinks about how easy this entire miserable planet could be wiped from the plane of existence.

somehow, humanity has managed to cause so many problems that not even his processors and planning can delegate the stress of having to pretend he was anything but superior to the generals, captains and presidents that adored to speak to them as if they were subordinate.

when you first meet prowl, you think, he must despise you. his frown on his angular features is stubborn and unmoving. he speaks to you like you're inconvenient.

"this is all wrong."

"do you even check your notes?"

"i am shocked to see just why they chose you for this role."

"don't bother me again until you find your voice. stop stuttering like a fool. you're an advisor, are you not?"

he's cruel. you're unable to find a response as he always slinks away, before you can seek a fellow autobot to properly report him.

sometimes, you can see the smirk in that disapproving gaze.

you do what most humans do. try to adapt. try to appeal. he likes to think in his spare time of you as a slobbering dog, trailing his pedes on all fours. drooling for even an opportunity of companionship.

you, on the floor. crawling. that's a bitterly tasty thought, indeed.

the rejected sentiments are visibly breaking you, slowly over time. starts with you trying to relieve his load in reports. attending his meetings, even though you're not required. he even heard you trying to argue with your own command, in some hopes they'd lessen their restraints on their current agreements with the extraterrestrials.

it's laughable. did he ask for any of this? no. you still do it.

dog. filthy, needy, pretty dog.

--------------------

you're frustrated.

you have so much pressure on you, all the time. all the poli-sci courses and straight a's don't compare or prepare for being the middle man between the united states and co governmental bigheads and literal, walking cars.

and jets. and motorcycles, you learn.

you should be out at parties. kissing boys and girls and someone you don't remember, crying about tests and complaining to your friends about the shitty sink and your shitty landlord.

instead you get this opportunity shoved in your lap.

to be taken seriously, you pin yourself in sleek hairstyles and make sure your appearance is flawless. your boots are polished. you smell like fresh laundry and evergreen.

most of the autobots have taken a liking to you, or at least listen to your points. most have gotten the common sense having lived on earth for as long as they had to not purposefully offend.

prowl? oh no. no, he made a point to make sure you felt belittled.

why does his opinion mean so much to you? is it because his tone is always cold? is it because you feel metaphorically and literally pinned under his gaze, some twitching fly beneath his precise needle?

he knows each and every weak spot in that barely nurtured ego of yours to jab.

you lie to yourself. lie that it makes you stronger. laugh like he's just jealous.

your sheets are sweaty. his voice is level, that you remember.

his hands. servos. so articulate.

you should feel sick when your own weasels from between your thighs.

you should feel ill for thinking of him when you see the slick wetness dripping down your forearm.

would he tell you you did a good job?

--------------------

the teapot in the shared downtime area whistles.

you're drowsy. caffeine does little to put any pep to your step so you resort to accepting your fate, hoping to bullshit your way through your rotation and worry about the repercussions later. today was boring. that was the issue - you're drained and understimulated.

not long enough it seems.

"slacking off, mm?"

a visible shake flirts up along your spine. the look you give over your shoulder is barely short of disrespectful.

"there is nothing else of importance for me to do. why would this room exist if not to relax between shifts?"

prowl towers. the doorways are higher, larger, to accommodate for humanity's new, glossy allies. you ignore the way his optics narrow. like he's studying you. like you've already fucked up.

"sounds more like failed excuses to me, diplomat. though.."

he's close. too close. uncanny valley crawls in your stomach as you struggle to forget nights ago. the dusting of his metal plates pattern similar to freckles.

that'd be cute if he wasn't awful.

".. mm, yes. you humans are so delusional. it's admirable, truly. patting yourself on your backs but too lazy to put in the effort to earn anything."

now it's your turn to frown.

"you're wrong. i work my ass off-"

"tsk, tsk, language."

"oh, fuck off!"

the tea kettle steams loud. and then it's jostled off the burner and you're scrambling, a scream caught in your throat.

cybertronians are strong. beasts, truly. they come in all shapes, sizes and talents but one thing is clear - they're living, breathing metal. there is little that can actually harm them.

prowl has your chin snatched between his digits. his helm is close and he has no need to breathe, but his ex-vents are sharp and his voice is still deliciously icy.

"see? animals, all of you. mutt. you bark and whine and complain. and i was supposed to take you seriously?"

your work shirt has lifted up your midriff. you ignore the throbbing at your core.

either he knows or he doesn't care, though it's prowl and it's rare he's in the dark.

there is no imagining how his vocals dip.

"predictable."

------------------

prowl finds fabric to be gaudy.

a prized trade elsewhere is commodity down here. he is much more trained on revealing what lays under that tight, useless suit of yours.

he doesn't bother answering any of your questions, only responding by yanking you by the back of your hair and letting his dentae sink into the flesh of your neck until it bruised.

he's rough. he knows you cannot take it, so when you're crying out to a god he doesn't know, his smile finally starts to edge his otherwise stern expression.

"good."

there's a snarl of disgust and despair when he gets all the buttons loose.

you are a spike tease.

underneath the bravado is the coverings of a slut.

it's gorgeous. soft, genuine silk. the straps are thin and bows dangle at the connections to heart-shaped lace that barely covers your chest. there's frill.

he tears a thread and unweaves it, just as he does with you.

your panties are yanked down your legs. they leave a red mark with how roughly he deposits them ..

for future observation.

his grip wrenches your hips, until a hole is found and he's jamming in and you're mewling, panting, huffing for him.

the "i hate you"s and "you're terrible"s just piston his pace faster.

his audials resort to memory banks that store all the pitiful expressions you make. he gets you on your hands and knees after all and when he's clutching your throat between sloppy thrusts, his grin is sharp and horrid.

"bark, puppy."

robolvrr 2024.

#prowl x reader #idw prowl #maccadam #transformers #transformers x reader #first contact au #/nsft #/nsfw #robo making hot toxic smut before bedtime?#more likely than you think babes #valveplug

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sanguniemcordis · 24 days ago

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some kyle garrick roommate headcanons to get my blood flowing

roommate!kyle garrick x fem!reader (fluff)

cw: alcohol, pretty much that.

• wasn’t expecting a girl when he put the ad out, but when he saw you he couldn’t complain

• but you needed somewhere to stay and honestly a man wasn’t your favorite pick either but what can ya do

• gives you the bigger room without telling you (literally switches over the couple days that he has before you move in)

• definitely under charges you for rent

• the apartment is bare because he’s never home for very long so he just tells you to decorate how you want

• helps you bring all your things up, happily takes pizza as payment

• kyle is nice. he’s funny, clever, not bad on the eyes

• he turns out to be a really nice roommate

• shares his food because he never knows when he’s leaving so it’s all up for grabs

•sings loudly and BADLY in the shower

• watches nature documentaries like 9 out of 10 times you see him on the couch (the other 1 time is soccer football)

• also probably falls asleep to them but then complains when he wakes up and you’ve turned something else on (“hey, i was watching that..”)

• scarily quiet sleeper due to his job, barely moves either

• but terrifyingly easy to wake up, even if you take a step within 10 feet of him his eyes open

• sometimes leaves the toilet seat up

• if you leave your bra in the dryer he puts it on over his shirt and waits for your return OR goes into your room, strikes a pose then leaves (you have to chase him to get it back)

• listen. it’s not that he thinks women are weak, not in the slightest, it’s that he knows men are crazy, so don’t even think about leaving at night

• seriously, don’t (one time you didn’t tell him and he thought you had been kidnapped)

• if you go out with your friends, expect he’s up waiting but not in an obvious way, but pretending he’s been watching another movie

• he makes a mean hangover breakfast

• he also has a very specific routine for shutting down the house and locking the doors or windows to make sure its secure

• makes too much food and gets offended when you don’t eat it all

• and if you have a potential partner or date over, he’s interrogating them, but in an unsuspicious way, one that seems friendly at first then goes south

• (“so you were just dating your ex only three months ago, you posted a picture on instagram with them and yet you already moved on?” “KYLE!” what? i was just asking a question!” “how did you even find their instagram?!”)

• kyle who for some reason hates every single person you bring home

• kyle who used to have a few regular fwb but slowly got rid of all of them

• kyle who started tagging along on night outs, casually stating he was bored

• then hes paying for several rounds but only having a drink or two, and yes, he’s forcing you to have water

• yes he takes you to get food when you’re drunk and begging

• then suddenly he starts suggesting activities for you guys to do together, puzzles… walks… restaurants… a pottery studio (“come on, it’d be fun!” “kyle have you ever done pottery?” “no! but it’d be fun, yeah?)

• kyle who starts to get just a little more touchy, starting small. i’m talking lower back touches, hugs, finger tips brushing over your bicep, grasping your wrist, even playing with a ring you had just bought

• eyes lingering on you longer and longer

• and just as the tension is bubbling, he’s gone.

• for months and the entire time he’s unable to focus entirely on his mission, part of his mind always going back to you, are you okay? are you warm? are you eating?

• and you’re in the same boat, wondering if hes eating, drinking, sleeping okay. if he’s coming home, when he’s coming home

• kyle who is only able to call you once and it’s the best fifteen minutes of his life

• whenever he comes home he always quietly checks on you, peeking his head in.

• is loud when he comes home sometimes, which is an accident, but it’s a welcome disruption because you know he’s safe. one time he was because he couldn’t bend over to get his jeans off and he woke you up, but it was welcomed help

• then after the jeans incident would be the first time you guys ever sleep together is when he found you up after coming home late. you made him food, turned on the tv and watched a movie on the couch

• the next morning you wake up first, curled up towards him, a crick in your neck and legs hanging off the couch

• kyle is turned towards you, plate nearly finished on his lap and arms crossed, head nodding forward

• then comes the weird limbo..

• because kyle is definitely touchier, sweeter SOMEHOW

• starts to sprinkle in some affection (“hand me that, love, would you, the best thank you,” “okay darling, i’ll get my shoes-“ “i’m just going to the corner-,” “no it’s fine, i need some fresh air.”)

• gets “strangely” protective whenever you’re in public and a guy approaches, even if he was across the store he’s by your side in an instant. (“sorry babe, whose this?” “kyl-,” “y’know i saw some of your favorite wine on sale, grab a bottle or two?”)

• speaking of wine, kyle LOVES wine night. props his feet up, pours you both a hefty glass of wine and turns on whatever guilty pleasure you both have

• (right now its 90 day fiancé)

• when he gets wine tipsy thats when he gets clingy, shuffling closer and closer until he rests his head on your shoulder, thighs pressing together.

• “he doesn’t love her,” kyle will mutter, discontent with the man on the show “how do you know that?” “because i do.”

• kyle who ends the night holding you, because hes clung his arms around you then managed to wiggle the pair of you together

• kyle, who even after you fall asleep stays up, unable to move because this just feels so right and like it was supposed to always be this way

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #roommate!kyle garrick #roommate!gaze #cod mw3 #gaz x reader #call of duty

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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago

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Give In

pairing: Joel Miller x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: suicidal thoughts, pining possibly one sided, ANGST (just a large angst piece, i wanted some joel angst so I made it), description of depression, emotional dependency on a person, arguing, fluff sprinkled in, implied age gap not specified, reference to pregnancy, mentions of substance and alcohol abuse, joel is lowkey toxic and uses reader

a/n hi loves I wrote this after the first episode aired, so if anything contradicts anything in the future in this story that is why. also, i didnt know how to end it so im sorry if the ending is a bit choppy. happy last of us sunday!

summary Y/N has feelings for Joel that she can’t control anymore

Part 2 here

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 8 min 33 seconds

The harsh chill of the autumn afternoon swept your hair off your shoulders. The ration line was as long as ever, but seemed to be moving quickly. A stray dog barked as others murmured on the street. Staring down at your boots, you bit at your chapped lips.

“You’ve been avoiding me,”

His voice sent chills up your spine. He was behind you, must have slipped in line without the other person noticing. Of course now was the time he decided to confront you. And he wasn’t wrong.

Straightening your back, you turn towards him.

“Have I?” you asked, raising your eyebrows slightly. The line moved forward and so did you.

“Tess said you weren’t feeling well.”

She was partially right. It was the blatant lie you were telling the very few who were close to you. You were physically fine.

“I’m fine, Joel.” you said promptly, turning a cold shoulder to the older man.

“If you need any meds or anything…” he began. You knew Joel had anything you needed. Quite literally.

“Next!” The FEDRA soldier called, motioning for you to get in the final line. You gave Joel a tight lipped smile before disappearing in the crowd.

Back at your sad excuse for an apartment, you poked your fork at your stale meal. You tried to think about todays’s job but the thought of Joel Miller consumed you.

How his hands felt on your skin, how soft his hair could be, how much he respected you in private. Flashbacks of previous nights where he had snuck over and stayed with you burned in your brain.

You never thought the hookup would turn in to feelings. Especially in this world. Feelings you were sure he wouldn’t reciprocate. Joel wasn’t a very emotionally available man. And he had Tess- rumors of them being together had been going on for years. Sure, they deny it. But you see the way he looks at her sometimes. His eyes burn with the lust you want from him, but there staring at her.

Tess was friendly and all, you got along quite well with her in fact. Jobs worked with Tess usually went better than others. But the knowledge that she goes home to him every night almost ate you alive. You felt used every time you would watch her turn the alleyway to their apartment.

Roommates my ass.

It had been over a month since the last time you saw Joel.

He was right, you were avoiding him. Taking the jobs you knew he wouldn’t dare go by such as childcare. Taking a different route home to avoid any run ins. Leaving your lights off and sitting in the dark to possibly deter him away from your place. All your little queues worked.

And the pain grew day by day.

You layed in your mattress with your face buried in your pillow. It stopped smelling like him weeks ago, but you liked to pretend it still did.

You couldn’t live like this anymore.

Pills weren’t numbing enough. Alcohol wasn’t as fun as it used to be. The constant state of depression in this damned district was enough to make you want to end it.

But seeing him across the alleyway talking to a group of people or in the line for rations was enough to keep that tiny spark lit inside of you.

There wasn’t much else to look forward to in this world besides others. Living the same day your whole life is miserable without your spark of joy in it.

Sleep was close, you could feel it. Your thin blankets were just cutting it for the night. As the dreams began to dance in your head, you were awoken by a quiet knock on your door.

“For fucks sake,” you groaned, flipping over in bed. You ignored the knocks. They became more persistent.

The old doorknob then dropped to the floor, startling you awake. You didn’t even have to guess who it was. The door slowly creaked open as you heard him curse to himself.

“I’ll fix it later,” he sighed, picking it off your floor and placing it on your countertop. He pushed one of your folding chairs next to your table up against the door to keep it sturdy.

“So your just breaking into apartments now?” you snapped, sitting up right in bed. “I needed to see you.” he protested.

“I never knew Joel Miller to need anything.”

He sighed and rested against your countertop. “I need to know,”

“Know what?” you asked, wrapping a blanket around your exposed shoulders. A tank top wasn’t ideal to sleep in, in these conditions.

“What’s wrong.” he said bluntly. “I said there’s nothing wrong. What the hell are you doing walking around freely at night?” you yelled, realizing the time was way past midnight. The sounds of soldiers a few floors down outside your apartment began to yell. How did he move past them?

“You sick?” he asked in a more hushed tone, walking towards you. “Respiratory? Head pain? Joints? You pregnant?” he somewhat joked, looking over you in bed.

“Shut up.” you said coldly. “Can you please just go?”

You knew Joel wasn’t a good listener. “What is it?” he said sternly, sitting down next to your body in bed. He grabbed your wrist ever so slightly. Your pulse was shaking in his grasp.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

You looked at the other side of your apartment, out the window. Rain had began to slowly plague the window. Ignoring Joel’s touch, you watched as the few drops raced to the bottom of the window.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” Joel sighed, not letting go of you.

“Stop, please. J-just stop talking to me.” you said, lying through your teeth. He could sense the pain hiding behind those eyes. “I’m not leaving.” he protested.

“Look at me.”

You turned to face him. His eyes were locked on yours. A genuine worried look was on his face. He looked softer, nothing like you had ever seen before.

It was almost as if someone asked you if you were okay when you were very obviously not. Silent tears rolled down your face as you tried to catch your breathe.

The man who you couldn’t love was staring in to your soul. There was no way you ever could love him. He was too mean, too stern, too old, too angry for you. The two of you were polar opposites. But as the saying goes, ‘opposites attract’.

Joel was unsure on what to do. Tess never cried. Hell, you never cried. He racked his brain for something, just something to soothe you.

He offered out a hand. Against your better judgement you took it. Connecting his other hand to your cheek, he tried to wipe away the streak of tears silently leaving your eyes. He held you tightly in your bed, stroking your hair as your head quickly made contact with the crook of his neck.

“I wish I didn’t have these feelings,” you cried into his embrace. Joel was confused on what you were getting at, but he ignored it. He tried to shush you in a soothing way.

“No, please. I wish I didn’t have these feelings… but I do.”

Joel froze. “What?” he asked, holding you in place.

You pulled back and looked at him. It felt like the first time over again. “Look at me and tell me you don’t feel a thing.” you hiccupped.

“I…” Joel sighed, closing his eyes for a moment and letting a breathe of air go.

“Say it.” you demanded.

The silence in the room was deafening.

“I can’t.” Joel said quickly. He looked down at his knees on your mattress.

“I think you should go.” you sighed, laying back on your side and facing the opposite wall.

He listened. Finally, Joel caught a hint. The sound of him walking away made you long for him more than ever. But it was good. The feeling of him leaving, knowing you were right. Joel Miller wasn’t a man who could love. At least not anymore.

Your sudden pride stopped when you heard his boots thud against the floor. Then the all familiar zip of his jeans followed by the hit of him placing them on your wooden chair next to your bed.

He rested a hand on your thigh as he peeled up the blanket that was stuck to your legs. Slowly, he moved down next to you in the tiny space you were leaving him.

“You don’t listen.” you huffed, still not giving him enough space on the bed.

“When do I ever?” he chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist.

Fuck it. You gave in.

You allowed his arm to move closer to the underside of your breasts. Scooting over in bed, you gave him more space for his legs to entwine with you. His boxer’s material rubbed against the back of your thigh. It smelt like him; Wet grass and expired generic soap scent had never smelt better.

Sleep kindly greeted you once you felt his breathing slow. Trying to match his, you fell into the deep sleep you had been yearning for, for what seemed like weeks.

The absence in the morning was startling.

You struggled to move, hoping that the previous night was just a horrifying dream. A sigh escaped from your lips when you saw his boots sitting against the wall where he placed them last night.

The clanking sound of tools made you turn. On the other side of your small studio apartment, there he sat at your doorframe attempting to fix your door handle.

The overcast sky stayed, but you could tell it was early morning by the chatter outside.

“Shit!” Joel hissed, grabbing his finger in pain. “Damn fucking…”

He looked up and noticed you watching him.

“You alright?” you asked, watching him in amusement as he attempted to fix your door.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sucking the tip of his finger. “Haven’t fixed a door in a good twenty years.” he muttered, wiping off the excess blood on his already dirtied jeans.

“Go back to bed, It’s still early.” he suggested, going through the tiny tool kit he had given you as a previous gift.

“This is more entertaining than sleep,” you chuckled, placing your feet on the cold ground and getting out of bed. “You want any breakfast? I don’t know if I have anything good here but…”

“Nah. Tess’l be expecting me.”

The sheer thought of Tess waiting at their home for him was enough to ruin the whole night you had before.

Joel looked up to you after your lack of a response. He noticed the demeanor change in your face. “Everything okay?” he asked, turning back to the doorknob he was almost finished fixing.

“You seem to go sour every time I mention Tess.”

“I wonder why,” you muttered under your breathe, attempting to open a tuna can for breakfast. You tried not to dry heave as the scent of the old fish met your nose. Tuna was never a favorite meal, especially for breakfast. But, it’s all you had.

Joel pretended like he didn’t hear you, but he heard you loud and clear. “We have a run to do today. You understand that, right?”

A bitter ‘mhm’ came from your lips as you shook the prepackaged coffee in your hand before ripping off the seal.

Joel sighed and placed the screw driver down dramatically. Joel’s knees cracked as he got up from his position. “You always gotta fucking act jealous. Don’t you? Ruinin’ a nice morning.”

“Jealous?” you said, raising your voice.

“What the hell do you even want from me?” you scorned, on the brink of tears. He could see through you like glass. You hated to admit it, but he knew you like the back of his hand.

Joel wished he could shout out the answer, but his ego kept it in.

You froze with your back turned to him and set down the brittle coffee mug. “Your always leaving me to go to her…”

“Because we’re business partners, Y/N. Don’t you get it? Don’t you hate livin’ the same damn day over and over again? It’s why I come to see you.”

“Stop,” you whispered, now face to face with him. “Stop yelling. Please, it’s too fucking early to get into that shit.”

“Really? Tell me you don’t loose your mind living the same day, same drama for years!” he yelled. “Always you being jealous. Don’t you ever get sick of it?”

Anger consumed you. Proof that the two of you would never work. He’s just a bitter old man.

“You know I would give anything to leave this damn QZ! To live a normal life, not fucking be here.” you yelled, with a finger now pointed at his face. You were avoiding the original accusation. Jealousy.

“Tell me.” you said, with a quieter but angrier tone. “Am I really just your fuck toy?”

Joel stepped back for a moment, stunned at what you just said. Guilt seemed to wrack his nerves as the realization hit him.

You were in love with him.

“Is that what you think?” he asked, approaching you with a sorrowful more soft look. “What else am I supposed to think? You come here, use me, and leave and go back to her.”

The feeling of letting go of all that emotion felt healing. The sudden aftermath of realizing what you just had accused him of made you feel somewhat guilty.

“No,” he sighed, grabbing your hand. “That- no. Absolutely not Y/N.”

His other hand reached for your chin, and brought your face up to his gaze. You could feel his heat on your skin.

“Understand…” he began to say. “Understand what?” you whispered back. A sly smile came to his lips.

“Give in,” he whispered, dropping your hand and wrapping his around your waist.

You melted into his grasp as he kissed you. Joel hadn’t kissed anyone in years. The hesitation from him only brought out the dominance in you.

As the two of you mutually pulled away, you wanted nothing more as to be back where you were just seconds ago.

“Understand that it’s hard.” he said, still holding you close. “I…”

“I know.” you said, cutting off his words.

You were an anxious, sorrowful over-thinker and he was the bitter, closed off introvert.

“I’ll be back,” he said, with a slighter more chipper tone. “Tonight. We have to get this damn car battery and…”

“Stay safe,”

“I promise.” Joel said. He really did not want to leave you. The thought of the two of you spending today lazily in bed was very tempting.

“But please believe me Y/N when I say, you are and never have been just a ‘fuck toy’.”

He squeezed your hand once more and then dropped it. Silence filled the apartment after he left.

The thought of how you tasted haunted Joel Miller’s mind the whole day.

Part 2

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25

#peterparkersnose #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller imagine #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us hbo #joel miller headcanon #joel miller one shot #peterparkersnosework

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thebreakfastgenie · 5 months ago

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This is what Vietnam War discourse would actually look like if there was tumblr in the 60s/70s:

That scene in Mad Men where Glenn tells Sally if he doesn't go to Vietnam some poor Black kid will get drafted instead

Draft dodging privilege

Failing the draft board physical on purpose is ableist

Trying to get a psychological deferment is ablesit/sanist

Pretending to be gay to dodge the draft is homophobic

If you're pretending to be gay to dodge the draft you can reclaim slurs

Trigger tags for topics related to Vietnam because it might trigger veterans, people getting screamed at for not using them, discourse about whether they're racist

Can Asian Americans reclaim "Charlie?" (Yes. No. Only if you're Vietnamese. Only if you're literally a member of the Vietcong.)

Lists of celebrities that are canceled for supporting Vietnam ranging from people who actually support the war to people who shared a post about supporting families of POWs

Someone posts about being happy their POW cousin got released, gets anon hate for supporting the war

Excuses not to boycott Dow Chemical, "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism"

Women and people of color get anon hate for talking about misogyny and racism in the anti-war movement

Women shouldn't go to college/law school/med school/grad school because men need those slots so they can get a deferment

The draft proves misandry is real

Anti-electoral leftists opposing the 26th amendment because both sides are the same

"Voting for LBJ is the lesser of two evils!!!!"

"At least Barry Goldwater wanted to end the forever war in Vietnam!"

The students murdered at Kent State get "canceled" for failing some moral purity test

Post about how Jackson State got less attention than Kent State because the students were Black which is actually but in the most bad faith, accusatory tone possible

Feminism and Civil Rights are distractions

Black bloggers get hate for publicly mourning MLK because "thousands are killed in Vietnam every day!!!!"

White American mixes up Vietnam, Cambodia, and Laos because they don't know they're three separate countries

Working class people support the war so opposing it is classist actually

"The movement isn't about your fave I hate stan culture!!!!!"

#the law school deferment one is real men told hillary rodham clinton that when she was taking the lsat

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weirdsht · 5 months ago

Text

Disillusioned 6 . Truth

a/n: i think my blood count is running low again so i might not be able to write for a while but idk yet. also my class schedule is literally from 9 am to 7 pm so i don't really know when i'll be able to write 🥲

tags: abuse as the norm, reader doesn't know better. unintentional self-harm(?), hints of power tripping

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read navi)

Buy Me Dessert

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On doesn’t know how to tell Cale about the things she found out.

Well, it’s not a matter of her hesitating to tell him. There’s no way On would hesitate to tell Cale, someone she has come to see as her parental figure, such important information. Rather, it's the timing of things that made her hesitate every time.

From the moment Cale woke up things have been hectic. There are changes to their schedule and a lot more things to do. Especially now that they managed to capture some of Arm’s members.

With everyone busy running around here and there, On took it upon herself to make sure _____ doesn’t get injured.

The silver kitten can’t fully comprehend why someone would offer their all for other people to the point of being on the brink of death. Saving people is good, but one should not overdo it. After all, being alive is the best thing as Cale had taught her.

Well, Cale is also self-sacrificial but that's On’s headache for another day.

For now, she focuses on limiting the healer to use their healing abilities as much as possible and trying to find the chance to tell Cale the issue.

“Don’t worry, it's dangerous but not dangerous as in you will get hurt dangerous.”

If Cale looked at her funnily then On pretended not to notice. The important thing is she finally managed to tell him that they must talk about _____’s powers. Since the redhead must first go and attend some business, On opted to just give Cale a snippet and continue it after they get back.

And so that night, after having dinner with the cute half-rat half-dwarf Mueller, Cale and On finally had their overdue talk.

Aside from them and the other two children, Choi Han, Beacrox, and Ron are also in the room to listen in.

“If that’s the case then chances are _____-nim’s healing abilities work like a transfer.”

Silence filled the room at Choi Han’s comment. All of them are thinking about how to confirm such things.

“We can just talk to _____ themself! They’re super nice so I’m sure they’ll tell us.”

“But maybe that will be uncomfortable for little _____”

Raon shut down Hong’s suggestion. However, Cale thinks it’s a good idea.

“It’s not like we have much option, we either ask them directly or sneak around to see evidence while they are using their power.”

And safe to say that Cale wants to choose the less hassle option, asking _____ directly.

After scamming– selling the research remains of the Magic Tower to Toonka and talking to Choi Han, Cale managed to squeeze talking to _____ in his schedule.

While the swordmaster was out to get the healer, Cale felt a sense of dread. He suddenly thought of how _____ never seems to share their story. This makes him think about the chance that maybe the healer is simply unwilling to share the information.

He may be trash but he's not a jerk who will force someone to share their story if it will resurface their trauma.

“So you have no problem telling me? Why haven’t you said anything until now?”

Turns out, _____ is more than okay sharing everything with Cale. They stated that whatever it is Cale needed to know, they are willing to share as long as they know of it.

“It’s because Cale-sunbae has never asked me? They say that if someone of my status shares something personal unprompted then it will be burdensome for the other party. It is also bad to speak unprompted, they said that it’s bad enough that punishment is due when such a misdemeanour is committed.”

Cale Henituse has a pretty good idea as to who that “they” is but he internalizes his anger and decides to focus on the task at hand. He motions for _____ to continue speaking.

“Cale-sunbae, I’m sure you’ve heard of how I got adopted?”

“Yes, what about that story?”

“That story is a lie. Why they lied about it is something I am unsure of.

I was originally from an orphanage. This orphanage is different because they sell gifted children, the children vary from beast children to children with special abilities like me.”

‘Sounds more like a human trafficking scheme, but I can't be sure.’

Cale thought to himself as he listened to _____ talk.

“I have been adopted because the Perduellios were on the verge of going bankrupt. They decided to adopt a child with special abilities so they could maximize the wealth and glory that comes with it. It is also the real reason why I am not affiliated with the Sun God church. However, it is also true that my health would not be able to handle the workload of being a holy maiden”

If _____ is officially affiliated with the church then they would essentially be a property of the church. Minimizing the profits the family can get.

“There’s also the fact that they said I would humiliate the family if I’m not under their supervision- Ah, I’m sorry! I just realized that I’m getting off-track”

“No, continue. I’m quite curious as to how that family raised you.”

Did what Cale said surprised him? Definitely. He is usually someone who does not actively seek out such things as it brings more headaches.

But oh well, _____ is one of his people anyway so it wouldn’t hurt to know about their enemies. Even if the healer isn't aware they are enemies.

“How was I raised? I was raised normally, just like how other people have been. The Perduellios gave me food, clothing, and a roof over my head. I think they were a little strict with me but they said it was because there are so many things I have to learn.”

“Strict how?”

“Instead of tutors and teachers, they used more physical ways to teach me. They said it was a little unconventional but the only way I would learn things fast.

They had a lot of unspoken rules that I had to follow. They said that usually, a child will gradually learn what those rules are as they grow up. However, they opted to punish me for every rule I broke as I am behind my peers.”

‘What a load of bullshit. That’s not normal at all.’

Cale internally sighed before asking what kind of punishment they got. _____ explained that it’s either being whipped or having hot candle wax poured on their skin, whatever the family’s biological child deemed fitting at the moment.

The healer was asked if they figured out what some of those rules were and they said they had.

They are not allowed to speak when not spoken to

They must always answer when spoken to

They must never speak to other nobles as they are a peasant

They are not allowed to have servants and must never ask any servant for help (this was why they never bothered Hans, Ron, and Beacrox)

They are not allowed to go somewhere without guards

They must only take what their adoptive family gives to them

They must refer to their adoptive family as father, mother, and big sister outside, but must call them call them by their noble titles in private

All gifts given to them must go to the family

They are not allowed to refuse to heal anyone, the only exceptions are if it's beyond their capabilities (like chronic illness)

When they heal someone the family must be informed.

They said that there was more that they did not figure out. However, Cale thinks that all of this is just a bunch of bullshit excuses used to hurt and exploit a child that didn't know better. Then as a result, even as an adult that person still doesn't know any better.

“Human! This is not normal! Little _____ has been deceived by those trash people! You better get revenge on them too!”

Both Cale and Raon are on the same page. Even before the dragon’s comment, Cale was already thinking about what he could do about _____’s family.

However, there was another thing that concerned the redhead.

It was the way _____ was telling the story.

Aside from the usual calmness they had, they were speaking as though it wasn't their story. It was as if they were just relaying the morning news.

To some extent, Cale thinks it's advantageous for the healer to be able to separate themselves from what happened. Even if they aren't aware that what they went through was abuse.

However, it wasn't like that.

It was more like _____ has become detached from things relating to themself.

Cale would even dare say that maybe it's because they are scared to face the hurt and longing they felt.

Not that the man is speaking from experience.

“How come you had no marks on your body? Even at the City of Life the only ones the doctor saw were the wounds you had that day.”

“Ah, that is part of my abilities. Even though I can’t heal myself, my body heals wounds a little faster than average and is incapable of scarring.”

‘This… just how lucky were those bastards that they even had the perfect cover-up?’

While Cale was thinking about how to make the Perduellios disappear from the face of the world, _____ further explained how their healing powers work.

“For my healing abilities, a percentage of my patients' wounds or sickness will transfer onto me. Ah don’t worry as I will only get around 70% of whatever I am healing and it will not be contagious whatever it may be. In return, I can give them some of my vitality. I say I give around 3% of my vitality per patient and then it is multiplied when I transfer it to them.”

Cale swallows the curse words he wants to say. He feels immense frustration at the person who seems to be more concerned at the possibility of Cale thinking they’ll get the entire group sick, and not at the fact that they’re giving their health away to random strangers.

“Uhm you might be thinking that the vitality thing is the reason why I have a weak body but it's not. Apparently, I was just unlucky and happened to have a body this weak.”

Huuuu

The redhead feels as though he will curse a storm if he doesn’t at least sigh.

“Because of how my abilities work, the more severely wounded or sick someone is, the harder it will be for me to heal them. Things like small scratches or common colds would not hurt but more severe wounds might have dire consequences on my body. That’s why I can’t heal severed limbs or terminal illnesses.”

The Medicus proceeds to explain that in theory, they can heal those things. However, it might cost them some part of the same limb or their lifespan as well as some manifestations of the illness.

“Human, let's not make little _____ heal anyone! That power is dangerous for them!”

Cale agrees with the dragon to some extent. But he also thinks that they can still use it as long as it’s in moderation.

“Hmm, I guess in theory I might also be able to revive a dead person once if I get to them right after they die. Though I think I’d have a week left to live if I did that. I haven’t tested it out yet so I’m not sure…”

Cale did not need to know that. There's absolutely no way he'll let this healer revive someone from the dead at the cost of their own life.

“...Don’t. No testing out any of those things. No testing out healing terminally ill people. The same goes for people with severe or paralyzed limbs. Just don’t okay?”

_____ doesn’t quite understand Cale’s requests but agrees nonetheless. The redhead is their benefactor so it would only be right to follow his wishes even if they don't understand why he would make such requests.

What the healer didn’t notice was the way the noble’s face hardened for a second when they were talking about reviving a dead person.

Cale is definitely going to keep a closer eye on them.

Maybe even ask Hillsman to be their personal knight…

No, never mind. _____ already grew up suffocated by the amount of guards they had following them. Cale isn't evil enough to recreate that.

So maybe he'll just make sure the healer doesn't leave his side?

“As for my ancient power, you already know that it’s a water-type power. I can look at someone’s “blood flow” to roughly figure out how strong and what species they are. As to how I accurately know the species of what I'm looking at, the owner of the power tells me. He was also the one who told me to hide my power from everyone. He doesn't speak much, he just tells me what someone is when I ask for it or when he feels like it.

Another thing it does is allow me to sense any living creatures in water. This is as long as we are touching the same water as what happened when I first met Raon Miru-nim.

It also allows me to replenish someone’s energy and stamina. However, I can’t do anything about hunger. Fainting is something I can prevent, but Cale-sunbae’s condition is special as you pass out because of your abilities so I can’t interfere with that. I’m sorry.”

They looked really sorry for not being able to prevent Cale from passing out. A big part of why they can’t interfere is because if they do then they will be breaking the ancient power’s flow of work.

“Last question.”

Cale feels like he knows the answer but he still wants to hear _____’s perspective.

“Why do you still insist on giving your all for people who will never appreciate what you do?”

It’s a foreign question for the healer. Something no one has asked before.

Something they didn’t even think about.

Even before they were adopted they have always been draining themself for others. The motion of offering themself up to others is as natural as a fish looking for water.

It didn’t matter if they were unloved or unwanted.

In fact, _____ knew in the back of their mind that no one loved them.

“I am both unwanted or unneeded. Then isn’t it only right that I present myself to be used until nothing is left of me?”

That was the conclusion they had come to.

Their life would have no meaning if they didn’t let others use them. Maybe there is, but _____ doesn’t know what could it be. Already so used to their current way of living.

“I understand now.”

That was all that Cale said to _____’s explanation of their powers. He told the healer to go back to their tent and rest.

As soon as it was just him and Raon in the room, Cale roughly rubbed his hands through his face.

Cale summarized in his head that in a way _____'s ability wasn't really healing but more like transferring. They multiply and transfer their vitality to make someone better.

The ability itself was easy to understand. Setting up measures to make sure _____ doesn’t overdo it is also easy.

However, Cale Henituse still feels frustrated.

And he can’t quite fathom why he feels that way.

#trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #lotcf #totcf #tcf x reader #lotcf x reader #lcf x reader #totcf x reader #manhwa x reader #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x reader #disillusioned . tcf

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horrorshow · 4 months ago

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Can you talk about why you think blocking and moving on is a bad thing? I thought it was a way to curate your space and avoid drama

idk maybe i'm too idealistic but fandom is a much more friendlier, welcoming, supportive, creative, engaging, active, diverse and interesting space when it's treated like a community where people are encouraged to participate and talk about their interests and where there's space for niche or more unpopular opinions without these people having to worry about being blocked and feel unwelcome by the majority of the fandom they are in. i can't stand how blocking everyone you disagree with has become the first thing to do.

you say its 'to curate your experience'. but blocking people does not only curate YOUR experience. you're also forcefully curating other users' experiences. and not for the better.

people say 'i will block you for literally anything' and then those same people wonder why engagement is down, why no one sends asks, why no one reblogs, why rarely anyone talks in the tags anymore and why this place feels so dead and boring and quiet. i wonder why!!!!

people treat real people as annoying ads they can dispose of at their whim. but that's not how a fandom or a site like tumblr works. (besides, if you really care about people curating their own experience you wouldn't block people. you can filter and blacklist and never see them again while still granting them the same freedom instead of actively making their experience worse.)

you say its to avoid drama. but seeing a post you dont agree with is not 'drama'. and blocking is not solving anything except for you personally. fandom was more fun when we remembered that every user is a real person you share a space with, and probably some mutuals as well, so you find a way to live with each other. starting with a restraining order seems a bit excessive and is not contributing to anything. it's not that hard to be respectful and tolerate others and acknowledge people have different opinions and interests and still co-exist in peace. its not that hard to be nice to people and try to find common ground with them and interact with the stuff you DO like. you do this in every aspect of your real life, so why not online?

i hear you say: 'but that requires WORK and i don't NEED to do any of that bc i can just block them'.

yeah, you can try to create your own bubble and only hang out with like minded people but you wont EVER fully achieve that (no matter how much you block, social media WILL keep feeding you posts you disagree with bc it makes them money). social media WILL pressure you into an 'us vs. them' mentality where you constantly feel like everything online is a threat or an argument you have to win and where being mean and unnuanced gives you the most notes and where you don't even see, let alone be able to treat, other users as people anymore bc you don't interact with them anymore other than to block or fight them. that's not how i want it to be online. it's not fun to me. and maybe i'm a pessimist but i think it will eventually be the death of online fandom and sites like tumblr. look at the state of twitter right now. DOES blocking give you a better experience in the long run? i doubt that it does. overall, i think it makes people even less tolerable and more vulnerable to hate and fear mongering, and social media an even more hostile place.

it's everything i hate about social media and everything i want to fight against and WILL fight against. i won't pretend my meager contribution will change anything, but i LIKE to just scroll past posts i don't vibe with and not see every argument online as a personal offense. it keeps me curious. most posts aren't that bad when you know the person behind it. i mean, you do you, i'm not gonna say what you should or shouldn't do bc that's up to you, but i recommend it: free yourself of the block button and bring back supportive user communities based on a shared love for the same thing and focus on what you have in common with people, just like you would do in real life. save the block button for the rotten apples who DO keep trying to pick fights and exclude others.

(which is, now that i think about it, probably the main difference: most people see the block button as a neutral way to prevent worse. but. that's only the case on an individual level. and treating everything online as an individual choice to which there are no further consequences, especially if they happen on a larger scale, is already a loss.)

#i've seen so many posts lately that were like 'we need drama soon bc its too boring' and ?????? are we all just too far gone already??#we used to have graphic challenges and creative events during hiatus where everyone was welcome to participate why would you want drama #have we already forgotten how to entertain ourselves without having to point and laugh at someone #why do we keep treating others in bad faith just to feel better about ourselves #like. the people you have the most interests in common with arent even automatically the people you best get along with #i could go on but im embarrassingly cringe about this already so yes sorry i DO care about online spaces. a lot actually.

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ai-the-broccoli · 2 months ago

Text

in which Light and Misa discuss Celebrity RPF

(based on this thought)

Misa: *holding her laptop* Hey, Light. Light: What? Misa: *cheerfully* So do you think RPF is okay, or should we start killing people for writing it? Light: ... What are you talking about? Misa: RPF! Real Person Fiction. It's like fanfiction of real people. Light: Oh. Well, that isn't a criminal activity. We don't need to kill people over fanfiction right now. It's still too early for that sort of thing. Misa: Oh, okay! *glances back to her laptop* --Wait! Why are there 5 shipping fics about YOU?! Light: Me? Oh, yes. People do seem to like to write wildly implausible fanfiction of all sorts about Kira. There are thousands of them online, you know. (Last time I checked, every single one that I could find was unbelievably horrible and out of character, and one of them even depicted me committing the illegal act of cannibalism, which is a crime and masterfully confirmed to me once again that the world is rotting and only I can save it. But now that I've confirmed the state of things for the time being, raising my blood pressure repeatedly for no purpose will not aid me in becoming the god of the new world, so I set a password to restrict my own access to the three fanfiction websites.) Misa: No! I mean, yes, duh, but that's old news. Of course I know thousands of Kira ship fics on every corner of the Internet. But these five are not fics about "Kira". They're tagged with "Light Yagami"! Light: ...What? Misa: Yeah. And-- Light: *frowning* Misa, hang on. Why are there 'RPF' fics about Light Yagami? Misa: That's what I was asking! And also-- Hey! I'm not shipped with you in any of them!! Why?! GRRRR this isn't fair! Light: Wait. You haven't told anyone about my relationship with you, have you? Misa: Of course not! Misa wouldn't forget about her promise to you! Light: Then it's just natural they wouldn't write about us. Misa: But I'm literally in this fic?! Yet you're dating-- wait-- EW! Him?! ALL him?! Light: ...Who? *finally turning around to look at Misa's screen* A-

Looking for the Golden Light: A Hideki Ryuga x Light Yagami fanfiction, by xoxo3gossipgirl we never go out of style: A Light Yagami x Hideki Ryuga fanfiction (ft. Misa-Misa), by xoxo3gossipgirl And I'll Write Your Name: A Light Yagami x Hideki Ryuga fanfiction (ft. Misa-Misa), by xoxo3gossipgirl Grave Repercussions: A Yagami Light x Ryuga Hideki fanfiction, by xanaxLOVE28 lightning strikes every time she moves: A F!Hideki Ryuga x F!Light Yagami fanfiction, by xoxo3gossipgirl

Light: *inhales sharply, horrified* HIDEKI RYUGA?! [Light Yagami takes -100 damage] Misa: Yeah! God, my new manager never stops trying to pair me with him. It's getting on my nerves! Light: ...What? Misa: I don't even understand why. I mean, everyone in the industry knows Ryuga swings that way! And I told her I got a boyfriend. Light: ....... Oh. Oh, yeah, uh, right. Yeah, of course. I knew those are all about that Hideki Ryuga. The popular actor. Right? Misa: Huh? Yeah. Of course? What other........ wait................OH. Ryuzaki -- L -- also used it as an alias one time, didn't he? Light: Exactly, Misa. Obviously, these fics had nothing to do with him, but I thought we should make sure for safety's sake. Just as I thought, all this is indeed about the actor. Misa: Huh... Well, yeah. *turns back to the screen* This is definitely about the actor... and this one too.... and-- Wait a second! *gasps* Why does this fic say that I'm a- a- Light: A what? Misa: Light! *inhales sharply, horrified* What is "l-l-lesbian Misa-Misa" supposed to mean here?! [Misa Amane takes -100 damage] Light: ...Huh. Hm. Misa: W-wait... *stares at the description* Misa is here in this fic because she's in a fake PR relationship with Hideki Ryuga here... and apparently we're doing it so we can both... *squints, incredulous* "pretend to be straight"... together??? Light: Oh? That's... ridiculous. Misa: RIGHT??? I mean, who would ever DO such a thing??? That's stupid. Light: ...............Misa, you said earlier that your new manager keeps trying to pair you up with Hideki Ryuga -- that actor Hideki Ryuga. And you say Ryuga -- I mean, the actor, the real Ryuga Hideki, not L -- he's known in your industry for being gay? Misa: Yeah- ...Wait. *gasps, horrified* My manager really thinks I'm a l-les... bian?! Because--I never told her who my boyfriend is?! What! *screaming* She can't be SERIOUS! [Misa Amane takes -100 more damage]

#death note #own writing #writing #yagamane #lawlight #misa amane #light yagami #hideki ryuga #i (ai)#(this is comedy/crack-ish so it's not too seriously written)

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weemietime · 2 months ago

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Why the FUCK are you bringing up the Iraq war to defend Israel

That's like saying "oh you think ISIS is bad? Did you know America dropped agent orange on Vietnamese?"

Nigga we think both of those things are fucking terrible

Why the FUCK are you bringing up the Iraq war to defend Israel

Read my pinned post, for it explains in excruciating detail why it is important to treat every person and every country on Earth with equity and dignity. It is that fucking simple.

we think both of those things are fucking terrible

The problem is that you don't, actually.

Because you treat equivalent situations (actually, the Iraq war was far worse) with different standards. Which means that you don't actually have a problem with the situation, but rather with the parties involved.

It is not my fault that you are unable to read and comprehend the very plain and clear explanations that I have already laid out for you. But just in case you didn't get the memo, here are some posts I have made in my private friend group that elucidate it clearly to you fucking imbeciles.

Honestly it's an emotional thing for me because I've seen a lot of the unrwa materials for schools in Gaza that actively teach kids to cheer for dead Jews, sinwar was found with a unrwa employee tag, unrwa members participated in Oct 7th, the UN is being very quiet about condemning the sexual abuse that happened during this pogrom. They did finally say they found it credible but this was instantly buried and is never brought up by any UN officials any longer, the UN first didn't even admit to complicity and now are saying they want immunity for their unrwa employees who were complicit, countries like Russia and China are using their seats at the UN to push the narrative of genocide with no evidence and zero pushback while the UN platforms their voices and refuses to condemn their genocidal actions and it just feels like, you know, part of the intergenerational trauma of the Holocaust is that the international community at the time, the league of nations, was also very lackluster about condemning the genocide against us and did indeed have many member states who openly supported and participated. I mean this was an attack that was planned for 15 years by people who pretended for generations to be the friends of these peace activists and shit. It's just a theme of betrayal and the feeling that we Jews are alone. Because the loudest voices from every country are shouting from the river to the sea lol. Is it a totally factual statement, is it a cognitive distortion, probably. But there is a real sentiment behind the words that is born from pain, not just shit posting

Of course it's a lot. Even one is too much. But every time these dipshits talk they say "Israel killed 40,000 children." No, the official number given by Hamas and the UN is 7,797. Plus 4,959 women. That's 12,756 civilians. Out of a 40,000 death toll, that is 27,244 Hamas combatants killed meaning the ratio of combatants to civilians dying is 2.25:1. This is an INSANELY good C/C ratio and is the numbers that Hamas has given. The normal C/C ratio is 9:1, the USA C/C ratio in Iraq was 4.46:1 out of 174,000 meaning a 77% civilian casualty rate. And look at how people talk about the war in Iraq and Iraq war veterans and Americans and tell me that matches how people are discussing Israel. You know? I'm not blaming people for being antiwar. For being horrified. For not wanting to send ammunition or weapons. For being appalled at Israel's use of Lavender. But the double standard is very devastating because when 9/11 happened the world mourned with the USA. When Oct 7th happened, a literal pogrom, people literally spit in our faces, shut down universities, scream at us on the streets, fire bomb our synagogues, gang rape our children for being Jewish (happened in France), cheer gas the Jews, you will not replace us, Zionists are rats, kicking us out of cafes, interrogation us to see if we're a "good Jew". Like you don't understand how the atmosphere has changed in North America and how virulently antisemitic its gotten. Our memorials for our dead have to be held in secret. Because people deface them, vandalize them, and show up to protest screaming through a megaphone that we are baby killers while we are crying over our babies being killed. And eighteen year olds are being sent to fight in war in our behalf because every country around our homeland has declared they wish to exterminate us. And that taps into the very real intergenerational pain of the Holocaust.

I've seen protests that look no different than Nazi Germany protests against the Jews. It is wrenching. Most Jews I know have lost their entire friend groups literally over night. Lost their living arrangements. Have professors fail their work if it's about Jewish history. Teach that Zionism means Jewish supremacy and conquering the middle east because we are all from Poland. It hurts. It hurts. And I know that Palestinians are suffering, too. 12,000 innocent people were killed. And I mourn them as much as I mourn my own people. But no one else is going to mourn our dead but us. The world has shown that they cheer when we die. And that hurts.

If I say "I'm grieving the actual people that I PERSONALLY KNOW WHO DIED IN A POGROM" people turn around and scream at me that I am a pedophile rat Zio Nazi genocidaire baby killer. When this first happened I posted the article "bombs fall in sderot" and joked "haha idk if my friends are safe." well my friend wasn't safe. She fucking died.

Ppl don't understand how small the Jewish community is. Whenever Jews meet up we play Jewish geography and we ALWAYS find someone we know in common. When Pittsburgh happened people in my community bc we are conservative Jews too, knew the victims. Ppl I know post about having to go to a bomb shelter all the time, their friends dying in terrorist attacks, experiencing terrorism as children etc these are innocent people who have nothing to do with fucking ben fucking Gvir

My friend is a gdmn [redacted] she deserves to die???? Okay all Americans deserve death because of Iraq. All Russians deserve death because of Ukraine.

Conscription is wrong and we should be protesting against it but no not every Israeli deserves death just as no Palestinian civilian deserves death even tho many of them are radicalized as children to want Jews dead and to join Hamas and get conscripted as well. THIS SUBJECT IS COMPLICATED. and anyone who reduces it to one side vs the other good vs evil is full of fucking shit.

Like I always say the settler colonial language I feel is misguided in some ways because of the whole Israeli population we have 70% Jews, 61% of that 70% were not migrants during waves of Zionist aliyah they were expelled and murdered and ethnically cleansed from Iraq Afghanistan Iran Ethiopia Yemen (every single Jew in Yemen was expelled to Israel) and they literally have no place to go.

Which is why from the river to the sea, means they will end up being literally pushed into the sea lol. And then 20% aren't even Jewish they are Arab, where will they go if Hamas takes over Israel and tries to enact extremist fundamentalist religion when they're used to living in secular democracy? They go into the sea too. Now 31% are European descent of those, many are from Russia which means they were kicked out and not Zionist oleh as well. But then we get into the west Bank where Israeli Jews are literally living as settlers and literally calling themselves settlers and perpetrating violence. The legal terminology of this all is also twitchy. Technically it isn't apartheid because Palestinians aren't Israeli civilians but we cannot ignore Hebron where Israelis literally dump piss and shit and garbage on their heads so they had to build a fucking net. Okay maybe it's not legal apartheid but it's obvious fucking degrading and they are not free to move or work or have the same rights regardless of who is in charge and we need to fix that. We also can say ok it's not a genocide in Gaza bc the numbers suggest of 40k, 12k were civilians according to Hamas themselves giving a 2:1 civ casualty ratio. The normal ratio is 9:1 so it legally cannot be called genocide. But Lavender is indiscriminate targeting civilians and bombing the place to fucking rubble which is a war crime and the Israeli government must be held accountable for this. Hamas does war crimes too they fired 20k rockets per year for 20 years into Israeli residential zones

[10:38 PM] Anyone who reduces this conflict to one side good one side bad is a fucking idiot. There is harm and suffering and complexity on both sides and both sides must be held accountable and then work for peace and prosperity

In conclusion: if you have nothing constructive to say, you can do everyone a favor and shut the fuck up.

#weemie #ask #antisemitism #leftist antisemitism #israel #palestine #iraq #simchat torah pogrom #pogrom #nova festival #bring them home #we will dance again #jumblr

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cordyce · 2 years ago

Text

⇢ FOR ALL YOUR ATTENTION

tsu’tey x gn!reader

includes: na’vi!reader. mate tsu’tey. teasing reader. tsu’tey is literally whipped. probably ooc tsu’tey. suggestive (?) themes.

notes: i’ve never written tsu’tey before so be gentle. also not proofread (what’s new?) so don’t judge i beg <;/3

tags: @nanamimizz @ydsm-29 @netesbby @loaksky @citruskasa @vanillawhale

If there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. Whether that be in the sense of categorizing and keeping tabs on his people, or the doting he does on those he holds dear in private; he is always watching, waiting, basking in the shadows to make sure he knows every detail. You think it partially to be his position as future Olo’eyktan that makes him that way. But you also know it to be just how he is in nature—even if he’d struggle to openly admit that.

A fatal flaw on his part, maybe. The way he is so devoted to the lives of those around him; how he is so willing to double stack his duties to take care of the needs of his people. Bearing more stress and burden than he should (or more inside knowledge than he has any right to know) because he is simply so keen on ensuring he is not out of the loop with anyone, ever.

He’s being attentive even now, at this very moment. If that is what you could call spying on Jake and Neytiri from his perch of raised tree roots, partially shielded by the overgrown flora in front of him. It is sweet and terribly endearing how he cares for her, loves her; his want to protect knows no limits.

Someone else might stir up a smidgen of jealousy at that, but not you. See, even if he had been betrothed to her, you’re conscious of what resides in his heart; what always has. You know that his feelings never crossed that one fine line, no matter how much he’d try to pretend that they did. How much he was willing to sacrifice for the sake of his clan to have strong leaders—willing leaders. It’s commendable.

Such an admirable act of a man of his caliber, one must admit.

And it isn’t that he does not trust Jake—because if asked he would have to be honest and begrudgingly attest that he has grown quite fond of the uniltìranyu—but he is just.. wary. Rightfully so. That is a well suited sentiment for these types of situations. Relationships with tawtute, no matter how docile and complaisant they may seem, should always be handled with a lingering sense of fragility. So you understand his urge to leer, his need to observe when he is alone with one of your people.

It doesn’t mean you don’t find it the slightest bit amusing, though. How he’ll stress and strain over maintaining glimpses. Hearing him scoff when you tease of his meddling is humorous. You enjoy getting to tug on his leg.

“You are lurking again,” you state, stepping up beside Tsu’tey’s still form on the root, peering through the clearing of brush right along with him.

And he must have been far more engrossed in his couple watching than you thought (it’s not like you were trying to sneak up on him after all, your steps were not even close to quiet) because he flinches the tiniest, minute bit at the sound of your voice. His head snaps to you and you turn your own to meet his gaze.

“I am not lurking,” he rebuts, lips dipping downward in a scowl. You can tell he wants to roll his eyes just by the tone of his voice, but he won’t. He’s aware that that gives you satisfaction.

Little does he know you get satisfaction from that fact alone.

“Ah, right. Then what would you choose to call this? Spying?” You tip your head, a seemingly innocent gesture but it is nothing of the sort. Playing Tsu’tey is quite effortless when the dice fall into your practiced hands so routinely. “Snooping?”

“That is—” Absurd? Foolish? Whatever word was going to punctuate the end of his sentence dies before it reaches the tip of his tongue. His mouth screws up for a moment, along with the ridges of his brows, and you can tell something about him that is so painfully easy to pick up on. “I do not snoop.”

“Sure you don’t.”

Your words tilt with a shrug of your shoulders, the leveling of your head. Swiveling back around to look through the brush once again, you have to bite your cheek to fight the smile threatening your lips as Tsu’tey still stays locked on you. It’s a pleasing feeling, knowing you have riled him up so much in less than a minute.

“I do not snoop. Nor do I spy.” He reiterates, says it with authority now. In the same stern voice he uses to talk to the children of the clan and warn them about venturing too far into the depths of the forest without parental supervision. But you are an excessive amount of familiar with him for it to work on you; for it to sway you in the slightest.

If anything it eggs you on. Maybe a small personality flaw; most definitely a little boorish of you. Nevertheless you enjoy it, you think you always will. Because you are the only one who gets to see Tsu'tey like this. Who gets to poke and preen and tease, without worrying if your head might end up on a pike afterwards. (Not that he could stomach ever doing such a thing without a monsoon of reasons, truly, because even behind his ostensibly permanent glower he is just a big hearted fool deep down).

“I see,” you hum, and his gaze is still boring holes into the side of your skull, “Then you’re just nosy.”

“I am nothing of the sort.” And there it is, the scoff that always comes when you begin to make sport of his tendencies trailing after his detest. You’ve finally got him—successfully sunk your teeth into his throat and dragged him right into your claw toothed trap.

“Great,” you denounce, then flick your gaze back to that of the agitated man beside you. “Then it will not matter to you to know that Jake and Neytiri snuck out of your sight five minutes ago.”

“What?” Head whirling, eyes shooting wide, he turns back instantly to his break in the brush to confirm your statement.

Your statement that was in fact laced in nothing but falsity and had the sole purpose of exposing him for just how intrusive he is; which worked like a charm, you must add. Jake and Neytiri are still there, of course. Still talking and collecting herbs like they were before. Still enjoying their innocent—albeit sickeningly flirtatious—time together.

Tsu’tey whips back around to look at you, this time squaring his shoulders to glare at you properly.

“Wiya!” He hisses, but it holds no threat. Just his annoyance, the baseline of frustration. (Probably out of embarrassment for being caught, if the sharp flick of his tail is any indication at all). “What is it that you need?”

You consider him, hold his gaze. There are one of two ways you could go about this and you’re trying to decide which route would be the most entertaining. It becomes clear with each tick of his jaw what option you’re going to settle on, so you begin to pick up the puzzle pieces and place them down methodically.

“Oh, nothing.” Shrugging as you lace your fingers behind your back, you count your breaths. “Was just seeing what you were up to.”

Tsu’tey, expectedly, does not waver still. “I am busy tending to things.”

“You mean spying?”

“No.”

“Hm.”

After your hum you let another pause take place. Another beat of silence between the two of you. There’s a faint rustling to your right and out of the corner of your eye you see Jake and Neytiri actually gathering their things to leave this time. You wonder if it’s because they heard the two of you or perhaps on their own whim. Regardless, you don’t miss the twitch of Tsu’tey’s ears as he picks up on it too. You’re almost certain his brows knit tighter together, if that is even possible.

“What do you need, yawne?” He repeats himself, presses once more.

Yet even on edge, his tongue strikes lovingly. How enthralling of him, how compelling. How can he expect you not to want to toy with him? When he is just so yielding?

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

Another pass. The noises of the forest fill in your lull.

“Well,” he huffs, straightening himself out. “If there is nothing you need then you should be going. Like I said, I am busy.”

And you’ve been plotting, scheming, for this perfect time to swing the hatchet down. Tsu’tey has set you up beautifully, honestly. It’s almost like he’s in on it himself. He should know better by now, you think.

“Right, you’re busy.” This time, your words drift off with a deep sigh. Shoulders rising up and dropping theatrically like they’re being controlled by a puppeteer's strings, you turn to leave the same way that you came. You mumble under your breath, but not low enough that the man in your presence cannot hear you as you take your first steps away, “Always so busy. Looking out for everyone. Leaving me be..”

Tsu’tey’s sharp intake of breath might be stifled, but you hear it without a single shred of strain. In less than a second wide strides are being made to close the short gap you’ve created between the two of you. And just as soon as they stop, the unreserved grip of a calloused hand is clutching onto the ridge of your hip bone, pivoting you back around to beset the (now slightly less annoyed) warrior before you.

“Leaving you be?” His voice is tainted with something endearing, something unfiltered. Concern flitters across his strong features and it’s riveting; telling.

You’ve got him. Right in the palm of your hand.

“Mhm.” Angling your chin with a nod you turn your eyes downward. Relaxing your shoulders into a defeated slump, posturing yourself to be despondent. “It’s fine, really. I know you are an important man. I should not expect your undivided attention.”

“My attention?” He quirks, and his hand is leaving your hip only to take place on your jaw. He tips your head up but you still keep your gaze averted. It is not time to give in yet. “You have all of my attention, always. Oeyä txe’lan, why would you believe that you do not?”

You bite your tongue. Attentive, heeding; earnest is his expression as he deciphers every twitch across your face. You’d think for a man that is so good at reading you he would be able to tell when you are presenting faux emotions. Yet it’s like his worriment outweighs his fluency of you.

Somehow that’s even more touching.

“Ma (Y/n),” he hearkens, veering into your line of sight until you’re forced to meet his gaze, now. The intensity of his focus has your stomach fluttering, your hands behind your back ringing together. Oh, how you love him. “Tell me, am I being neglectful of you? What is it I have failed to do?”

“I—” His thumb is rubbing against the plane of your jaw. The curve of his lips pushes them out in an adoring pout as he inspects every quiver and crease of your features.

This was supposed to be a fun little game, one you are used to playing and one you are always in control of. So why does it suddenly feel like Tsu’tey has wiped the gameboard clean and tossed out all the cards? How has he flipped this on you, by simply cracking open his chest and laying his bleeding heart atop the deck? How has he become the game master, with a simple cradle of his palm and the dripping of devoted professions off his tongue?

How is this fair at all?

“Oeyä tìyawn.” My love, my heart; he holds you with such firm care like you are the very muscle that pumps life into his body. Like you are the very essence of his soul, all in all. Like you are his lifeblood—and aren’t you, really? “Do you crave for my attention? Have I not awarded you enough?”

“No.” It’s instant, no hesitation in your deliverance and, somehow, this is not about teasing your lover anymore. Your lungs burn, your internal clock ticks like the time frame of minutes has been cut short. “No, it is not enough.”

Contrition trickles down Tsu’tey’s face like watercolor pathos coating concern by the brush of your velvet tongue. His grip on your jaw softens, his free hand slides across the hollow of your throat until his fingertips bracket the braid encasing your kuru. He steps close; impossibly closer than he was until the beads of his neck piece scrape delicately against your sternum, until his breath fights to contrast the already growing warmth of your blood rushed cheeks.

You swallow, but it is not enough to stomach the tension clawing up your ribcage. His forehead is just a mere breadth from yours, his nose twitching millimeters from your own. With his ears pressed back and his tail flicking lowly, he envelops every sense a Na’vi can use.

He debilitates you, wholly and unquestionably.

“Forgive me,” he presses, and his lips seal yours before you can respond. “Forgive me, paskalin,” he longs as he steals your breath once more, presses his thumb against your pulse point. “Ngaytxoa, Ma (Y/n). May you never want for my attention again. I will grant you anything to prove as such. What do you wish of me?”

“I wish…” It is tasking, trying to catch your breath. He is just so close and just so consuming and adhering. “I wish for you.”

“Me?” He ticks his head, drops a hand in order to slide it down to the base of your spine. “You have me, all of me. Do not be foolish and believe otherwise.”

You blink, regain yourself. Yes, you suppose he is right. You suppose you do have him—all of him—that his actions now prove to supplement that statement. So what is it you really want? What is it you crave of a man who has given you everything even if you bait that he does not? What is the desire that you harbor in your heart, that he has not already graced you with forthright, at the any shallow utterance you muster?

“The day,” you wager, “Spend the rest of this day with me.”

Tsu’tey’s lips cinch to the side for a moment—his duties listing off on the blackboard of his mind, you are sure—but a moment is all he tenses before his foundation gives. He nods, cleaves to your wish.

“Of course. What would you plan? A hunt? A harvest?”

A fang hooks the corner of your lip and you shake your head. So willing to heed to you but it is not quite right, not quite on script. He has mistaken your petition for something far more innocent than you thought he would; but you suppose you cannot fault the conservativeness of a warrior that holds such merit as he.

“You mistake me,” you correct, snaking your hands up until they reside over the ridges of his protruding collarbones. “I wish to spend the day with you. Alone. As my mate. Doing that of which only mates are permitted.”

At this, Tsu’tey’s ears flicker; his pupils expand against his will and you take that as your sign of agreement before he even murmurs as such. And his compliance does not run verbal—not fully—other than a gruff rumble of his chest as the hand on his spine drifts to drag against the back of your thigh and hoist you up. Instinctive is the way your legs find themselves winding around his cinched waist. The woven ridges of his cummerbund brush against the insides of your thighs, and it is not an unfamiliar feeling.

Funny, how as lips sear against your own, drift and smear along your jaw and down the curve of your throat until they find refuge on your pulsepoint at which his thumb now retreats, you feel far more innocent than tainted. Perhaps love does that to someone; hides guilt or shame and breeds only purity. Perhaps attention can surely prove to be a cure all, in certain sentiments.

Whatever it is, you embrace it fully and relish in it with all of your being.

And maybe it distracts you, just slightly, because your tongue grows dangerously loose as you give up your will. You really do prove to be your own betrayer, truly.

“Sau,” you sigh as you tip your head to the side to allow virtuous lips room to roam, “I should tempt you with plight more often.”

Kisses halt and hands tighten where they grip onto you. You realize your mistake just as soon as the last word rolls off your tongue, but you cannot swallow down things already spoken. Fingers still sifted into Tsu’tey’s braids, you peer down as he leans back enough to look up at you.

“How kawng of you,” he aims, but he grants you no tell of expression.

“And even so?” You ponder, hum as you scratch the base of his scalp. “Will you revoke my request from me? Will you be so cruel as to deny me this?”

“Do not be foolish,” he hearkens, and something twinkles in his eyes as he says it—something twitches at the tilt of his lips. “You will have your day with me, just as you wish.”

“How merciful of you.” And you cannot help the simper that plays at your mouth. Even after fumbling, giving up your original position, you have still seemingly gotten your way. How delightful, this has proven to be.

But Tsu’tey’s fingers delve into the meat of your thigh with a little more pressure. His kisses find their way back to the juncture between your throat and jaw with a little more fervent. His tail brushes against your hooked ankles and you are not foreign to this rhythm of flicks.

“Do not deem me merciful yet, yawne,” he apprises with a nip of your skin. “You wish for my attention? I will grant it. But remember—”

A deep chuckle rumbles against your skin and the heat of his laugh has your stomach boiling with fire-licked butterflies. Your heart skitters, your inhales hitch before they slip out of your throat, as his lips find their way to the shell of your feverish ear. You find yourself bated, waiting, on whatever is to come.

“You asked for all of my attention. So now, you must take it.”

And if there is one thing you know about Tsu’tey, it is that he is attentive. And that is what you are banking on as he carries you further into the forest.

#avatar x reader #tsu’tey x reader #tsu’tey te rongloa ateyitan x reader #tsu’tey fluff #tsu’tey drabble #avatar fluff

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lmaowatermelon · 4 months ago

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Valdangelo Wedding Planning (fic excerpt)

Chaotic wedding planning from an unfinished fic (sharing on tumblr so I don't flood the archive tag)

Just really liked this part, enjoy!

“We are not calling our wedding ‘Hellfire.’” Nico di Angelo said with disapproval.

Leo Valdez sighed and raised his hands in mock frustration. He was sitting at their kitchen table with a laptop open to the New Rome wedding planner website. Nico thought that maybe, just maybe, the planning part of the event would go smoothly with the help of the internet, which wasn’t available when he was younger (alas, he was wrong).

“We need some pizzazz! It’s like a prom theme, you know, to stir up some hype for the big day,” Leo explained.

“Do we really need a big theme?” Nico countered. “Isn’t it fine to just marry you? That’s… already more than I could ask for.”

Leo gazed right at his future husband. He cupped Nico’s cheek with a gentle hand, one that was so warm that the son of Hades melted into his touch. They both understood what Nico meant without words: how he couldn’t have imagined a legal marriage with another man back in the 1930s. Something so simple was already a blessing.

“Okay, okay, no need for a fancy theme. But our guests will still expect some sort of color palette and flowers, that kind of stuff. How about we start there?” Leo offered.

Nico almost nodded in relief, but he would’ve reacted too soon. Leo immediately pulled up a list of poisonous plants to include in the decorations.

“If we just put them far enough away from the guests…” the son of Hephaestus whispered, an evil grin on his face.

Nico leaned over to glance at Leo’s search result. “Belladonna?”

Leo relished in the sudden close contact. He felt some of Nico’s anxiety and stiffness leave his bones when their hands intertwined on their laps. Still, he was feeling mischievous, and he opened up a field of images of the plant in question.

“Neeks, this is the perfect decor for the ceremony. I’m thinking plum, wine red, maybe some gold, and we can throw in some treatable skin rashes for the one unfortunate guest who touches the berries.”

Nico narrowed his eyes and swatted at Leo’s cheek without any force. “You’re not putting rash-inducing plants in the reception room. But we can put fake ones in there if you like them.”

”I like,” Leo said as he pointed finger guns at his fiancé, “how you think, love of my life.”

Nico grinned wider than he had that entire day. The son of Hades could only pretend to be fed up with his partner for so long. He thought Leo’s silliness was comforting when it was coming from a sincere place, and anyway, Leo nailed the color suggestions. But the son of Hephaestus also toned down his jokes regardless when he opened up the page of RSVPs. The sight of all their friends’ names on the ‘going’ list silenced them both for a long while.

“Everyone said yes,” Nico breathed, musing over the columns of text.

Leo squeezed Nico’s hand and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Nico laughed, so soft and small that it was barely noticeable and no less beautiful than a summer breeze.

“Who wouldn’t want to see you glowing on your wedding day? You’re gorgeous,” Leo stated with every bit of seriousness in his bones. “You deserve to be celebrated, Neeks.”

“No, you,” Nico insisted, his face flushed red.

“No, no, I insist,” Leo replied. “Seriously.”

“What a coincidence, I’m serious too. You’re hot. Literally.”

Leo lit a small fire in his palm and moved in to kiss Nico on the forehead. Nico’s rare laugh erupted with happiness from his throat, and Leo stared at him in adoration before he reached out and ran a loving thumb over Nico’s hair, then the corner of his eyes, then his cheek, chin, and lips. The son of Hades stayed still through it all and watched his partner with equal amounts of affection.

“I’m glad I get to marry you, ghost boy,” Leo breathed against Nico’s hair. “I finally feel like I’ve done something right.”

#valdangelo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #nico di angelo #nico x leo

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pedroshotwifey · 1 year ago

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Christmas Countdown Day 5 - Fake Dating

Favor

Pairing: Roomate!Marcus Pike x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, fluffy fluff, smutty smut, oral sex (f), coming untouched (m), subby Marcus, mutual pining, stuff I'm forgetting

Summary: You accompany Marcus as his "date" for his holiday party. By the end of the night, you realize that neither of you want it to be fake.

A/N: Hey, y'all! I'm conflicted with this one so please let me know if it feels rushed or anything, and I'll go back and revise. Tomorrow's prompt involves Javier P. and with likely have smut! Also, I'm thinking about implementing a tag list for the countdown, so let me know if that's something you would like to be included in. Thank you for reading! <3

***

“Are you sure,” Marcus starts to ask for the millionth time. “You really don’t have to–”

“Marcus,” you sigh, annoyance clear in your voice as you roll your eyes. You give him a leveled look from where you sit in the passenger seat. “I already told you a thousand times that I have no problem helping you out. We’re literally almost there anyway.”

He looks at you and gives a short nod.

“I know, but seriousl–”

“Marcus!” You flick the side of his head and he shoots you a glare. “I swear to all that is holy,” you start, your tone making him flinch. “If you ask me that question one more time, I’m going to chop your fucking balls off and shove them down your damn throat.”

You have to bite your lip so as not to let a smile slip when you see him stiffen and widen his eyes.

“Thank you,” you say smugly. “Now focus on getting us there in one piece, boyfriend,” you tease. You’re too busy shaking your head to see the furious blush overtaking his features.

He had come to you last night, sheepish and reluctant, asking if you would do him a solid. He made it seem like it was a big deal to ask you, but all he wanted was for you to pretend to be his date for his office party the next day.

After teasing him a bit about not having an actual date by this point, you had told him that of course you would help, that you’re the best fake-girlfriend to hire within the states. He had thanked you about twenty times, red in the face, before quickly retreating back to his room of your shared apartment.

You have no idea why he gets so damn nervous sometimes.

***

You arrive at the office less than five minutes later. It doesn’t look like it should be too crowded, which is a relief–you weren’t looking forward to being smushed in an over-crowded office for the next few hours. Other than that, it’s no big deal.

Marcus, in classic fake-boyfriend fashion, holds to the door for you when you get to the entrance.

“Why thank you, boyfriend,” you say. You wonder when he’ll catch on that the reason you keep mentioning that is because of the look he gets on his face.

The night goes on smoothly, the both of you playing your parts as a couple perfectly. He laughs at your comments and you kiss his cheek, your hand never leaving his.

It feels nice to act this way with him, which is something you wish you didn’t notice. It’s hard enough to pretend like you don’t have a crush on your damn roommate–and now that you know how good it could be, well, it’s going to be an impossible feat.

He introduces you to multiple co-workers as his girlfriend, and you have to suppress your blush every time.

After a handful of introductions, you inform Marcus that you’re going to go get some fresh air, needing a break from trying not to spontaneously combust. He nods at you but there’s a look of unvoiced concern in his eyes. You do your best to ignore it as you smile at him and slip away.

You’re only outside for a couple minutes before you hear someone step out behind you. You don’t have to turn around to know that it’s Marcus, coming to check on you.

Why does he have to be so fucking considerate? You think to yourself with a sigh. He really is perfect boyfriend material, yet you’re too much of a chicken to actually pursue him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” you hear him ask from behind you. You want to melt when he calls you that–when he calls you anything, really.

“Yeah,” you say, spinning around to face him. “All good.”

The two of you stand in silence for a moment.

“You…” Marcus starts, but trails off. You cock your head slightly, prompting him to finish. He licks his lips and blushes.

“You look beautiful,” he says, averting his eyes for a second.

You gasp quietly as your stomach flutters.

You know what? Fuck it.

You surge toward him and sling your arms around his neck, planting a kiss on his plush lips. He inhales sharply but immediately wraps his arms around you, reciprocating your affection with a hunger that almost surprises you.

You make out like teenagers until you realize in the back of your mind that you’re still in public. You back away, gasping for breath as the two of you have a silent conversation with your eyes.

The pure desire in each of your gazes is enough to have you both heading for the car without another word.

***

As soon as you’re through the threshold, Marcus kicks the door shut and drops you onto his bed, your lips only parting when he backs away to unbutton his shirt. He fumbles with the first few and then gets frustrated, pulling the last couple off with a sharp tug.

He’s still in his white undershirt and dress pants when he sinks down to his knees in front of the bed. In his rush, you didn’t even get a chance to move. He throws your legs over his shoulders and looks up at you while licking his lips.

“Let me taste you, baby, please,” he begs, borderline whining. The sight of him so submissive and vulnerable for you makes you moan out loud. You thread a hand through his hair and give a tug as you nod.

“Yes, please,” you gasp. “Go ahead Marcus, eat my pussy.”

As soon as the words are out of your mouth, he's tugging your skirt up around your hips and delving into your cunt over your panties. He wraps his lips over your clit and sucks as he brings a hand up to prod at your dripping hole over the fabric.

You moan again at the dual sensations and give his hair another sharp tug. He whimpers but pulls back just enough to slide your panties to the side. In no time, his mouth is back on you, the pleasure more enhanced without the barrier.

You keen and buck your hips up to his mouth as he licks a stripe up your seam, collecting your slick on his tongue. He switches between that movement, circling your clit, and then pushing his tongue as deep into your pussy as he can.

You cry out as he uses that technique paired with the movements of his fingers, which go from circling your clit to dipping into your entrance, depending on where his mouth is. He’s more of a whimpering, groaning mess than you are, and it’s an unbelievable turn on.

He eats you like you’re his last meal, his enthusiasm causing your orgasm to precipice almost immediately.

“F-fuck, Marcus I-” you don’t get to finish your sentence before he’s shoving a finger into you and sucking harshly on your clit, his teeth brushing the sensitive nub. Your jaw goes slack and your back arches as you cum hard on Marcus’s face.

He helps you through it, moving his fingers back and forth and keeping suction on the exact spot that drives you wild.

“Oh, you’re so fucking good,” you tell him through your haze. “S-so good, Marcus.”

He whines at the praise and keeps his efforts up until you stop convulsing. When he pulls away, his face is full of your cum and…shame?

You sober up slightly and furrow your brows at his expression. Does he really regret this already?

“Marcus, what’s the matter?”

He looks away from you but you can see the bright red tips of his ears. After a moment, he mumbles something, but it’s almost incoherent.

“What?” you ask, sitting up on your elbows.

“I-” he huffs a breath and stands up, figuring it might be easier to just show you.

As soon as it comes into view, you register the dark spot covering the front of his pants. Your mouth drops, a small sound spilling out. This man came in his fucking pants from eating you out.

No wonder he was whining so much, he must have been grinding up against the bed, desperate for some friction on his aching cock.

He’s adorning an unreadable expression when you let your eyes drag back up to his. It sends a wave of panic through you.

“No, baby, It’s okay, really,” you say, sitting up the rest of the way and holding a hand out. He takes it, albeit reluctantly, and allows you to drag him toward you.

You reach up a bit more to plant your lips on his. When you lean back, you look into his eyes.

“That was perfect, sweet boy,” you assure him. “And don’t worry about…that,” you look down slightly, a ghost of a smile on your lips. When you look back up his expression almost mirrors yours, the humor of the situation really sinking in.

“We have all night, after all.”

***

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FOTJC Tags @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa (pls lmk if u don't want to be included for any reason <3)

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #smut #pedro pascal smut #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike x you #marcus pike smut #pedro pascal fluff #fluff #marcus pike fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #christmas #christmas countdown #friends of the juice collective

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