#so its not the most cohering thing in the world

[sskk-manifesto]

:)

[1punch]

tfw your grief is so crippling it destroys planets and stars without even caring

[lucabyte]

ALSO YOUR OCS LOOK SO INTERESTINGGG… i dont have energy to look thru it all rn esp with fixation gnawing on my brain but ill get to them sometime :^) so fun so fun

🤝🤝🤝 The fixation gnaweth on my brain too do not fret. the poor bastards are getting a little neglected for a hot minute all told

BUUUT i am open for questioning and interrogating if ever you do look into my things. I know I've only really got the surface level stuff on display on toyhouse etc but just like anyone with ocs I have a bunch of stuff in my head that's just not written out because I haven't been given an excuse yet lol

[navree]

people who got angry at the writers of 2x03 for talking about how rhaenyra didn't put any thought into her meeting with alicent and can't be surprised at the outcome because "rhaenyra shouldn't have to offer any concessions" are baffling and probably lacking in brain cells because that's literally spot on. rhaenyra went into an attempt at peace talks without any attempt to conciliate the opposing side and was surprised when the peace talks devolved and ultimately failed. it's bad decision making on her part, it's bad leadership and governance insofar as she has the ability to govern, and given that we're meant to see her as a legitimate claimant to be the sovereign, it's entirely reasonable to judge her on those standards.

because rhaenyra should have thought of concessions. she's making a big ask here, and it's entirely fair that she make offers that could actually appeal to the opposing side other than "War Bad :(" because the other side knows that, like in every conflict ever, they've just decided that the potential outcomes of winning the war matter more than the lack of war in its entirety. it is doubly important that rhaenyra offer concessions because she is also no longer the only wounded party. any peace talk to avoid the dance would need to hinge on both sides acknowledging that there has been serious wrong done to each part. on rhaenyra's end, the man whose rule is law proclaimed her heir but that was taken from her, and her son was killed unexpectedly during the negotiation phase. on aegon's end, he has the precedent of centuries of westerosi legal custom, and his six year old was murdered for absolutely no reason through no fault of his own or even aegon's. these are major grievances that both need to be dealt with fairly and with the understanding that restitution on both sides needs to be made. i mean, hell, rhaenyra only gives a passing mention to the fact that she did not, in fact, order two assassins to force their way into helaena's bedroom and make her choose which child to die. not even offering to allow daemon to face any sort of legal justice at aegon's hands is a gigantic fucking blunder on her part.

rhaenyra is no longer in the position where she can make unilateral demands because she is no longer the only person who has suffered or dealt with material consequences. hostilities are now as much motivated by personal desires for revenge as they are for legitimate succession reasons, and rhaenyra knows that because the entire reason she meets with alicent is to try and break the cycle that started with luke and then moved to jaehaerys and then the cargylle twins afterwards. i mean, hell, look at what alicent says at the end of the conversation when she tells rhaenyra it's too late. she mentions that the equivalent to armed forces have been mobilized, that one of the most personally powerful military men is actively marching to engage in warfare, and that aemond, someone who is not only ruthless but, as far rhaenyra knows, has a vested personal interest in doing things like avenging his beheaded nephew, is going to be involved. rhaenyra's thoughts, were she a competent leader/administrator, should be "what can i do to get them to at least press pause on this so we can negotiate further". the fact that it wasn't is a failure on her part, the fact that she did just think she could come in and go "let's stop fighting" when there are issues that she needs to address on her side now is a failure. it's entirely acceptable to call her out on this.

and i would have given this same criticism if a peace talk was initiated by alicent with that same mindset. if alicent had tried to negotiate with rhaenyra and been the one pushing for it, she should have had some restitution to offer her for what happened to luke, and for sending ser arryk to murder her in her bed. that would be a reasonable thing for rhaenyra to accept, since those are grievances that the greens need to address in any peace talk with her in turn. but the difference is that alicent is aware of the fact that she'd need to do that, because she already did it. she's the one who says they need to send terms to dragonstone after aegon's coronation that rhaenyra can find acceptable and agree to without feeling humiliated or losing face amongst her own supporters. she sends otto with those terms with clear messages to be conciliating, and even leverages her and rhaenyra's former emotional investment in each other to drive home that these are peace messages (in contrast to rhaenyra starting out with 'if i wanna i could murder you' which is a very bad way to start a peace talk, and rhaenyra knows that because immediately when called on it she acknowledges that it's a fuck up on her part).

there's a section of this fandom that believes rhaenyra is the rightful ruler, but then actually refuses to judge her on her merits as a ruler. she wants to be the sovereign, fantastic, but that means she's going to be held to a higher standard by both other characters and the audience, because she's now the key decision maker and also responsible for literally everything that happens on her end (i don't know if some of y'all were just too dumb to qualify for apush but i am smart so i took it and i remember when we talked about the truman presidency in that class and "the buck stops here"). it's not the writers being shitty to rhaenyra to point out that this plan was flawed from the getgo because there were serious issues in her thinking that meant it could never succeed. it's just the simple truth of the situation.

[paging-possum]

Who up listening to good luck babe by chappell roan and having it resonate not in the way intended but resonating nonetheless. About to go ham in the tags about the overlap of being a lesbian and being aromantic...if u even care....

[onthecrescentofthehill]

it’s funny when ppl talk about the harpy omelet scene and say things like “why did he do all of that? he didn’t need to. JUST doing that for laios???” (seen these nearly verbatim on posts i’ve made.)

i don’t really get how you can hear his backstory & not understand that every decision he makes within the dungeon is fueled by a profound trauma borne out of horrific, structural negligence. of course he would do fucking anything to enact his plan? if he computes “getting in laios’s favor = proxy control of the dungeon” and he has very limited time to do so, he will jump at the chance. he’s already DIED for this.

kabru has maybe the clearest possible motivation that a character can have. he has a Protagonists Motivation, and it guides him forward in a very coherent way in the beginning of the story. things get more complicated in later acts that directly address how that motivation manifests itself/gets contradicted, bc ryoko kui is great at exploring this, but it’s still extremely present.

and as a labru fan i strongly dislike the implication i see from some ppl that his interest in laios is mostly personal or romantic (posts that range from pure joke to actual ship meta.) even when taking the “confession” at face value, where i think he was telling the truth, there’s still a lot more to it than that. i think at first kabru does see laios as a means to an end in a way that’s impersonal, partly because he tends to keep everyone in his life at arms length. but that “end” (preventing history from repeating itself) is something foundational to his psyche, and we should consider that potential sense of safety getting mixed in with his warring fascination/apprehension towards laios. he’s drawn to him for visceral reasons, and his stated motivations are so intertwined with his sense of self that untangling this push-pull is much more interesting than boilerplate Yearning, to me.

it’s just confusing when any meta or basic discussion of kabru diminishes the weight utaya has on his inner world and i’m really surprised every time i see it? like i understand that different types of meta will put other lenses on things intentionally, and in most cases i think it’s an interesting tool to work with. but it’s a massive disservice to his character to put the most foundational experience of his life on the back burner ESPECIALLY when it’s in favor of shipping. dissecting character relationships, romantic or otherwise, is at its best when you have their full personhood in mind!!

[critterbitter]

re: your thoughts on legendaries (which is very cool and based) what’s your take on the differences between legends:arceus giratina and platinum giratina, especially since you defined them as hating the world? specifically the bit where giratina (at least seemingly) actively defended the world from cyrus trying to destroy it, after trying to do the same thing with volo’s help centuries prior?

Weird ghost worm upon yee (AND MORE ART BELOW CUT!)

Anyways, here’s my mad ramblings about Giratina and Arceus’s backstory.

Tldr: Giratina’s a conglomerate of angry souls scorned by Arceus.

(Here’s the playlist. It’s all about worms.)

How it Started.

The original one has chosen favorites over the passage of time. Heroes, legends, protagonists…

Arceus intervenes for those it loves, and the consequences of a god touching the mortal world is devastating in its entirety. One act of divine intervention causes entire civilizations to collapse. One whispered suggestion drives an entire legacy insane.

So Arceus, paralyzed by its love for the mortal world, acts very little, learning from its mistakes. Apathy soaks through every motion. And thus is the way of the world.

But people love the Originator. Religions are born from Arceus’s rare deeds, and generation on generation taught its benevolence. Imagine spending your entire life chasing after that golden light. Imagine knowing its real and there, and it loves you.

Imagine begging it for help, and seeing it turn away when you need it most.

I think those people would feel very abandoned indeed, if they spent their lives worshipping, and receiving no response at all.

Giratina is born from the abandoned, the lost, and the angry. They’re a hundred thousand souls who’s adoration turned to spite. They’re an entity who demands for Arceus to look at them, so they can finally rest.

Arcues can not look at them in full, because if it does Giratina will fade.

(Scio, beloved. For I can not let you go.)

So the Original One banishes the Unwanted Beast into the distortion world, and Giratina seethes, and starves, and screams.

(Here are two truths about the Beast Between Dimensions—

1. Some part of them still loves Arceus. Arceus is their anchor, after all— the sole reason why they exist, why they are. But Arceus can not love it back in a way that matters, and that hurts.

2. Giratina is made of a thousand voices. Some of these voices remember that there’s a world above. They miss it.)

Why Giratina attacked Hisui in PLA:

PLA Giratina’s not a new god, but they’re very, very bitter and barely coherent on a good day. Volo serves as a conduct to help unite the broiling mass of ghosts against Arceus, and thus Giratina’s hatred overcomes any flickering affections they have for the land.

It doesn’t help that Arceus intervened for Hisui, sending Akari to directly stop Volo from summoning Giratina.

(As for Volo, well.

Imagine being a child who was thrown into the future due to Palkia and Dialga’s fits, who learned his people (his world) no longer exist beyond a shadow in the history books and a single, bitter lore keeper.

Volo doesn’t remember his original culture beyond vague imprints and singing praises to Sinnoh, but he knew he was loved, and he knew his family is dust four hundred years in the past. There’s a special sort of rage in him that echoes Giratinas.)

(Why did you abandon my people, Arceus? What kind of god are you, to leave those who love you so callously behind?)

(Maybe some part of Giratina recognizes Volo, beyond a feeling of kinship.

Maybe some part of Giratina grieves because it recognized the child Volo was.)

When Volo gets his pound of flesh, (when he realizes Arceus is not beholden to him, that the inherent alien morality Arceus holds is not a personal slight), Giratina will finally rest.

Anyways what I’m trying to say is: Arceus is never a person, but a nebulous embodiment of the connection shared between pokemon and humans. It tries to experience what it’s supposed to embody, but millennia of watching people be and cease has given it choice paralysis, apathy, and a hoarding issue. If something lasts forever next to it? Good.

Giratina was once a person. (Correction, a LOT of persons.) They don’t think very linearly either, but they have context on mortal matters and are thus the more benevolent and malicious of the two. One day, time will smooth them into something like Arceus. We can only hope the two keep each other in check.

THE DIFFERENCE OF LEGENDS ARCEUS GIRATINA VS PLATINUM PEARL GIRATINA

If the ancient version of giratina is an angry conglomerate of ghosts scorned by Arceus, the modern iteration of Giratina’s a creature that’s more settled in its skin and more assured in its duties. Giratina still has beef with Arceus, but they unionized into one being who’s love of the mortal world has triumphed over its ancestral grudge. One might even postulate they have shifted their anchor from Sinnoh the god, to Sinnoh the place.

((We call this character developement. Good for you, weird ghost worm!))

(((FULL DISCLOSURE, VOLO BEING FROM THE PAST IS INSPIRED FROM FOXFALL. You know. The fic that got me into this fandom. Please give it some love.)))

[drdemonprince]

The Barbie Movie is confused -- and it is confused on purpose, because it can't actually acknowledge the role that capitalism and white supremacy play in the patriarchal system that it wants to give itself credit for acknowledging. And so the film introduces patriarchy as a force with no agent or system behind it.

Ken, an oafish goof is able to find the concept of patriarchy and transmit it to the entirety of his society simply by learning about it and speaking about it to his fellow Kens. There is no use of force, no political organizing (notably, the Kens try to take over the political system after they have already taken hold of the culture), no real persuasion even -- simply by hearing about patriarchy the women in Barbieworld somehow become brainwashed by it.

This means we never have to really see the Kens as genuine antagonists, we can still laugh at their bizarrely crammed-together multiple dance numbers and forgive them when they, like the women, are freed of the patriarchy simply by women speaking about the fact that sexism exists. Both the origins of patriarchy and the solution to it is as simple as an individual person telling their story.

The CEOs that run Mattel in the Real World in the film are similarly cartoonish and devoid of real agency. They're even portrayed as generically interested in the idea of Barbie being inspiring to girls. The movie can't even acknowledge their profit motive, and it can't make any of the men running the company look too powerful or even too morally suspect -- but the film does still want to have Barbie encounter sexism in the real world and grapple with the harm "she" (the consumer product, and not the social forces and human beings that created her) has supposedly done.

In the Barbie Movie, patriarchy is a genie in a bottle, and no one is to blame - except maybe Barbie herself, since the movie spends a significant amount of time discussing how she is responsible for giving women unrealistic beauty standards.

And so Barbie is depicted as both sexism's victim and sexism's fault. She's dropped into a patriarchal world that the film acknowledges has a menacing, condescending quality -- but the film can't even have an underlying working theory of where this danger comes from, and who had the power to create this patriarchy in the first place, because that would require being critical of Mattel and capitalism.

And in the film, ultimately the real world with all its flaws and losses and injustices is still preferable to Barbieworld, because you get to have such depth of feeling and experience and you get a vagina, so how bad could really be? And hey, when you think about it, the Barbieworld is just an inversion of the real world, isn't it? A world with women in power is just reverse sexist, so it was justifiable for the Kens to want to take over, and what does it say that all things being equal Barbie still would prefer to leave behind her matriarchy and join the patriarchal capitalist world? That's the real world. Real world is struggle and sexism and loss and pain and capitalism and death and we must accept all of it but it's worth it..

It's not that I'm surprised the film's a clarion call for personal choice white feminism and consumer capitalism. I just expected the call to be a little more seductive or in any way coherent. I wanted to have frothy fun, and instead I was more horrified by the transparency of its manipulation than I was by even the most unsettling moments in Oppenheimer.

[starhotchgf]

A innocent Woman

Y/N is a virgin woman at 29 years old, but she never imagined that a gift from her best friend would make her get fucked by her co-worker, with whom she also shares an apartment. But I wouldn't be able to complain about the feeling of being completely ruined by the genius Spencer Reid.

warnings: use of toys, use of pet names, rough sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don't do it), squirting and brief voyeur.

English is not my first language, so forgive any mistakes!

ps: Penelope is the best friend in the whole world.

Y/N was a virgin and that was a secret that only her best friend Penelope knew. She had known for less than a week, but she was still the only one who knew it besides her mother, who didn't act like a conservative mother like the others, because she was always trying to arrange sexual encounters for her daughter. She was already 29 years old, but she had never gone beyond kissing and touching herself with her ex-boyfriends. It wasn't something she saved for the right person, she just never saw the right opportunity to let her virginity go.

You weren't surprised when a package arrived at your apartment door on the morning of your weekend off. It had a note from Garcia. You smiled as you picked up the box and took it to your bedroom, imagining it was just a stupid book about sex and its health benefits, but your eyes widened when you saw what was inside the package. You hadn't been wrong to think of it as a book. There really was a book inside, but what caught your attention the most was the wide variety of sex toys that were also inside the box. She ran her fingers over one of the silicone vibrators and took it out of the box, startled by the size of the thing she was now holding in one hand. She looked at the details and felt her cheeks burning. She mentally thanked her roommate for not being there. Spencer would certainly think things about herself. She wouldn't have the courage to look him in the eye if he saw what she had in her hands.

She threw the sex toy on the bed and picked up the book, opening it to the page marked by a small iron clip. There was another note from her best friend inside. She felt like burying her face in the floor and never taking it out again.

I think you might like some of the things in here, but everything is better when tested with someone.

I hope you enjoy my gift. I'll want all the details. Don't hide from me the incredible pleasures that life gives us

You sat on the bed with the books in your hands, but not before closing the bedroom door. You flipped through the pages marked by Garcia and felt your breathing become labored at times, causing you to cross your legs automatically, your heart beating faster than usual. Your skin felt hot and knew it was red, but you didn't hesitate to take off your clothes and lie down on the bed, leaving the box with the other toys on the floor, the forgotten book on the dresser and the silicone vibrator in your hands, running it over your skin until you reached the place that was throbbing with anxiety. You had never felt anything like that before.

“Oh shit” You moaned, passing the toy over your wet lips, you felt like you were dripping, but that sensation wasn't enough. “Oh my God” You whimpered, pressing the vibrator to your aching clitoris, your eyes rolled back automatically, your legs opening and giving even more access to the light vibrations of the dildo. “This feels so good, yes”.

You couldn't think of anything coherent at that moment, just rambling with low words and a tone almost like crying in your voice, small, soft moans escaping through your parted lips. It was as if all your limbs were too heavy, your brain seemed to melt and your body convulsed, your eyes rolling and closing with the pleasure that spread throughout everything.

Your ears felt like they had cotton balls, which prevented you from hearing any sound other than your own moans. Your phone that was constantly ringing on the bed was forgotten, your boss worried on the other end of the line, but nothing other than your pleasure mattered at that moment, not when your body begged for an orgasm immediately.

…

“Dr. Reid” The man answered the phone, stopping the car on the side of the road so he wouldn't get a ticket. He had just left a lecture on serial killers in a criminology class, the students seemed too entertained, he had completely lost track of time, answering questions and doubts about the cases he solved in the BAU.

“Reid, it’s me, Hotch.”

“Oh sure, Hotch, is there a problem, do we have a case?” He asked, preparing himself for whatever his boss was going to say, even though his body was already begging for at least a good night’s sleep that weekend. “Do you want me to go to the headquarters?”

“No, we don’t have a case. Y/N isn’t answering the phone, I’ve called more than five times, then I remembered that you two share an apartment and I thought it would be best to ask for your help. Do you know why she’s not answering?”

“I don’t know, I’m not at home, I had a lecture this afternoon, but I’m already heading back to the apartment. I’ll check on whatever it is, I’ll call you to let you know, Hotch.”

“Thanks, Reid, I’ll be waiting for your call.”

Spencer quickly turned off his phone and started the car again, hoping he wouldn't break any traffic laws as he ran to the apartment. Y/N didn't usually leave her phone off, she was always the first to answer Aaron when the man called, he couldn't imagine what could be happening. It took him 8 minutes to get to the apartment, fumbling with the set of keys as she opened the door with some desperation. He looked around the living room and everything was in its place, the woman's keys on the coffee table, her cell phone next to it, the lost flames appeared on the screen, but the device was still on. Spencer walked down the hallway and looked in his own room, which was still organized as when he had left, he turned around and walked to her room.

"Y/N? Are you there?" The man asked, knocking on the wooden door. Some murmurs didn't go unnoticed, Spencer arched his eyebrow, knocking on the door again. No response, the woman wasn't listening and the worst-case scenarios went through the doctor's head, who didn't hesitate to turn the handle and open the door.

The agent's eyes froze as he looked at the scene in front of him, his fingers still holding the doorknob and an expression of shock. Y/N was lying on the bed, a sheet thrown over her belly, her legs spread and her head thrown on the pillow, her lips parted in low moans and pleasurable murmurs. Her skin was sweaty, shining in the room's lighting, her hair spread and stuck to her forehead, her cheeks red and her toes curled.

"Holy shit," Spencer said, letting go of the doorknob. The woman opened her eyes in fright, pulling the sheet to cover her body completely, the man turned around, closing his eyes. "Sorry! Hotch was calling you and you didn't answer, we thought something had happened."

"Oh my God." You moaned embarrassed, throwing the toy on top of the wet sheets. Spencer just mumbled an apology and locked the door again, leaving you alone, with nothing but the embarrassment of being caught red-handed in that situation.

…

You didn't know how long you had been in the room, but you knew you couldn't stay locked in the place all day. A robe was thrown over your body, all the toys were thrown inside your wardrobe and the sheets were on the floor. You opened the bedroom door begging it not to make any noise, but the creaking of its lock was obvious throughout the apartment, as if it was seeping into every possible room, it was no different with the noises of the wooden floorboards, which creaked when you reached the living room.

Spencer turned to look at you, a cup of coffee in his hand and a small smile on his face, everything seemed normal. You adjusted the robe on your body and walked to the sofa, sitting a few inches away from the genie, who pointed to the cup on the table, the liquid was still hot. The man seemed to have guessed when you would leave the room, even after all the embarrassment from hours before.

“I already told Aaron that everything was fine and I fixed your report, it was just a wrong date, nothing too worrying, a typo.” The man said, taking another sip of the hot coffee. “Everything is fine between us, right? I’m sorry I came in, it’s just that I knocked and you didn’t answer, I thought you were hurt.”

“It’s okay, I should have locked it anyway. It wasn’t your fault, I think it was mine actually.” You laughed, your cheeks turning red as you remembered the look he was giving you. The agent just nodded, laughing at the thought that they would never be able to tell anyone about that.

“Are they new? There was a box in your room,” he said, so distracted that he at least measured his words before speaking. “You don’t have to answer, I didn’t think before I asked.”

“Okay. Yes, they’re new, they were actually a gift from Garcia, I guess she doesn’t have many filters when it comes to gifts, but it would be rude to refuse the act of affection.” You replied, crossing your legs in a way that moved the fabric of your robe over your skin. The genie didn’t hide his gaze, the smile on his face growing as he went up and met your eyes.

“Well, I guess you can’t say you didn’t like it. It would be a big lie, Y/N.” He murmured, drinking more liquid from the cup. “I would be a witness to your lie.”

“And I would be a witness to how paralyzed you were when you opened the door, Dr. Reid.”

“It’s not every day you see a needy little thing like you like that, it’s no surprise that I was paralyzed.” You spoke confidently, smiling and placing the cup of coffee on the table, so that he could stand up and stand in front of you. “Tell me, how many times did you cum with the help of that toy? You were so wet.”

You were staring at the genie with your eyes still, almost wide open as you realized the sexual confidence that Spencer exuded at that moment. He was looking at you with a sideways smile and dark eyes, so dark that you could get completely lost in them. The man touched her on the shoulder, the sleeve of her robe falling gently, revealing her unmarked skin, ready to be decorated by him and only him.

“Spence?” She asked, her eyes rising until they met his completely. “What-” Your speech was interrupted by the man, who bent down in front of you, his fingers touching the fabric of your robe until your skin was fully exposed from the waist down. Your intimacy was still wet, your previous orgasms still showing on your legs. You were embarrassed, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to look at the genie.

“Open your eyes, darling. I want you to watch as I devour you and make you cum in my mouth, I want to take every drop of pleasure from inside you, do you want that too? I bet you're so anxious, you can't even control yourself, so pathetically needy and hot.”

Your fingers flew to the man's hair as kisses began to be placed on your thighs, his hot breath hitting your intimacy only made you yearn even more for what was to come next. Spencer smiled, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your skin, just having fun with your anxiety. The agent wanted to test how devoted to him you could be when you were anxious to feel the least bit of pleasure he could give. You hoped the man didn't realize how much you would accept anything from him at that moment.

"Spence, please!" You whimpered, pulling the strands of your hair, bringing the man's face closer to your intimacy. "I need you."

"Do you need me?" He mocked, seeing a few anxious tears appearing in the corners of her eyes. The genius was being so mean to her, she felt like she could go crazy if he didn't put his mouth on her pussy soon.

It was only two seconds before a scream echoed through the room. It had come from her lips when the man finally started sucking on her intimacy. He seemed hungry, passing his mouth over each spot, leaving her even wetter than she already was. Her sensitive clitoris ached deliciously, her body writhed with the pleasurable sensation of having his lips on her needy pussy.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good at this.” Her eyes rolled back, her lips parted, with a trickle of saliva running down her chin. She felt like her brain was melting from the amount of pleasure she was feeling at that moment.

The man stuck his tongue inside her pussy several times, extracting every drop of pleasure that dripped from her entrance. But it was when his fingers found the spot that she felt her vision darken. It seemed like there were little stars in front of her, which grew larger as the genius curved his fingers inside her, hitting places she didn’t imagine possible.

The warm feeling in your stomach warned you how close a new orgasm was becoming, tears streaming down your eyes and joining the saliva that came out of your lips, everything seemed to be a big mess at that moment. But nothing mattered except the growing feeling that you were going to cum again, you writhed on the couch, scratching Spencer's shoulders and neck. The man moaned against your intimacy, sending vibrations that brought new things to your pleasure. Fuck, you felt like you were going to die at any moment.

“I'm-” A loud scream interrupted your speech, a squirt escaped from your intimacy, wetting the man's entire face and chest. You whimpered when he didn't stop, cleaning all the liquid that was still left on you at that moment. “Damn” You gasped, looking down, met the agent's surprised gaze and a small smile on the side. “It's my first time, at all, I've never done this” You confessed, closing your eyes in shame, you felt your cheeks heating up and knew you were blushing.

“No need to be shy, you just squirted in my face and because of me, you being a virgin only boosts my ego more. Fuck Y/N, can you even imagine how hot this is? Can I be your first?”

“Yes, I want you to be my first, please,” she begged, opening her eyes to meet the man’s. Spencer just smiled, standing up to pull her up, hard enough for her to jump on his lap, her legs entwined around his waist and her face close to his. The man had never looked so attractive as he did at that moment.

“Your first time won’t be on a couch, darling.”

…

Your back touched the soft mattress of Spencer’s bed, only the bedroom lamp was on, the curtains closed and the door ajar. The man smiled as he stood up, taking off his shirt, wet from his internal orgasm, and throwing it on the floor, leaving only the gray sweatpants he was wearing. You were enchanted by his lean, attractive body, his strong arms, but not so apparent, he was completely gorgeous, you felt like your eyes could be shining when you looked at him.

“Do you like what you see, darling?” He whispered, finally lowering his sweatpants. Only then did she realize the agent's lack of underwear, he had been without underwear the whole time. You were startled by how big he was, your lips parting in an anxious moan, she would be able to beg to have him inside her. "You need to be fucked so much, don't you? So needy, but I'll take care of you, just me" he said possessively, climbing onto the bed and crawling until he was between her thighs, her intimacy was still sensitive, but she longed for the man's cock inside her.

"Fuck me, I need you so much" she confessed, moaning at the end of her speech, she could no longer stand that heat of need and anxiety. "Inside me, I need you inside me" she begged when she saw that mocking look on Spencer's face, she knew exactly what he would ask if she hadn't said that right after.

"So smart, baby, so good for me. Begging like that makes me want to ruin you completely." He whispered, his lips touching hers tenderly. A kiss was initiated, a good enough distraction for the pain that slowly spread through the woman's intimacy. She closed her eyes and moaned between the kiss, tears pricking her eyes at the uncomfortable sensation. "Shh, it will pass soon." The minutes passed slowly, but she couldn't identify when the pain turned into pleasure. The man moved slowly, only slowly undulating his hips, delighting in the moan of pleasure that escaped his lips. Your eyes met in the middle of the movements, your lips opened in beautiful moans and small whimpers. You tried to move your own hips against his, but the man's hands on your waist prevented you from doing that. Spencer was having fun doing all the work there.

“You look so beautiful around me.” He moaned, hitting the bottom of your pussy with a stronger thrust, that took you to heaven and pulled you to hell in the same proportion. A scream escaped your lips when one of the man's hands went to your clit, making small circles and rubbing, increasing even more the stimulation that he felt with his cock. “If I knew it would be like this, I would have fucked you so long ago. Fuck, I haven't been able to take my eyes off you since you arrived at the BAU, always so beautiful, your eyes so innocent, I always knew what you were looking for.”

“Spence-” You moaned, choking on a sob as you felt so stimulated, your eyes spilling more tears down your red and wet cheeks. Your crying was pleasurable, your body contorting as if you were getting closer and closer to a new orgasm. You were going to milk the man's cock so well, every second would be worth it, all you wanted was to feel his cum inside your pussy.

The thrusts increased even more, their hips moving together, their moans echoing through the room and reverberating off the walls, they felt like they could wake up the entire neighborhood in that vulgar and pleasurable way.

She felt her vision go blurry when their lips met in a sloppy kiss, full of saliva, tears and disconnected moans from the pleasure that increased even more through her veins. Spencer didn't stop playing with her clitoris, while her nails scratched the man's back and neck, leaving obvious red marks.

The agent lowered his lips to her neck, biting and sucking wherever he could reach, covering her with marks that were impossible to be covered by any makeup she had. Her eyes closed when another orgasm took over her body, making her legs tremble and her arms completely lose their grip. Spencer didn't need anything else, he came inside her, moaning muffled against her neck.

Her body fell to her side, her panting breathing slowly regularizing. The man looked at her, taking a deep breath as he spread kisses across your face and shoulder. You moaned in satisfaction, curling up against his chest, resting your head lightly, your eyes closing in exhaustion.

“That was perfect,” she said, her voice hoarse from how much she had moaned, her eyes closed and her lips red from the kisses and bites. You were a work of art in his eyes.

“I’m afraid I won’t let you be anyone else’s, darling.”

“I don’t want to be anyone else’s, love.”

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[haoboutyou]

mornings with you | jeon wonwoo

fluff | 530 words + some change | no warnings

coups ver. | kwan ver

wonwoo thinks he’s woken up in heaven.

rays of sunlight filtering through gaps in the curtains envelop the room in a warm glow. the distant sounds of traffic outside the apartment are nothing more than a gentle lull, the siren’s call for sleep more tempting than ever. there's a sense of leisure in the air, as if the world seemed to pause momentarily around him

there’s you, still deep asleep in his arms, unconsciously burying yourself deeper into his chest to avoid the light. wonwoo peers down at you, sleepy eyes still blurry. they barely make out the way your hair sprawls behind you on your pillow. the soft rhythm of your breath, the gentle touch of his skin against yours– you surround him in the most pleasant ways possible.

soft snoring by his feet causes him to lift his head. ah, seol had somehow sneaked into the room and had squeezed herself onto the edge of the bed sometime in the night.

he cherishes moments like these, of quiet bliss and tenderness. your usually bold and energetic features softened by the embrace of sleep. he doesn’t understand why, but feeling your warmth against him filled his heart with a sudden sense of appreciation and content, cherishing the intimacy of the morning stillness.

and that’s exactly how he spends the next half an hour in bed: fingertips gently tracing your features, eyes committed to burning this exact moment into his memories. wonwoo rubs the faintest circles onto your skin, peppering the lightest kisses wherever he could while trying not to wake you up.

eventually, of course, your eyes flutter open. you’re a little surprised at the softness in his eyes, radiating sincerity and affection, quite literally the first thing in the morning. nonetheless, a lazy grin makes its way onto his face when wonwoo realises you’re finally awake.

“good morning, sleeping head.”

god, his husky voice in the morning was causing all kinds of short circuits in your brain.

embarrassed, you choose to bury your head bad in his chest. you choose instead to respond with a muffled reply.

“hmm? what did you say?” god damn, jeon wonwoo. teasing you first thing in the morning.

soon enough, you lifted your head enough for a coherent reply.

“ ‘mornin...”

“atta girl.” he plants a chaste kiss on your forehead. you squeeze him impossibly closer to you, but he merely chuckles and pries your arms away from his waist.

“c’mon. we gotta get up.”

“can’t we stay like this forever?”

he tries to drag you up but to no avail. “y/nnie, we have a lot of things to do today. grocery shopping, getting guy’s present, going to the gas station– did you forget?”

wonwoo moving around the room to get ready for your busy day ahead awakens seol, who in turn trots over to settle into the nook of your arm. you slump back down, eyes squinting from the glare of the sun shining through the window.

“you’re so productive it hurts,” you whine.

“too bad, now get up!”

“he’s so bossy in the morning, right seollie?”

the dog in question whimpers and tucks her head under her paws.

“what was that?”

“yeah, yeah. i’m getting up!”

[inf3ct3dd]

ellie headcanons pt.2! :))

warnings: mentions of weed/alc , injuries/blood, VERY mild sexual content (boobs and ass 😕)

content: loser!ellie x reader :3

authors note: im back w another BANGER🔥🔥🔥 since ppl loved the last one IM BACK W MORE 😈

pt. 1 ! taglist.! masterlist!!

- CANNOT handle spicy food. my porcelain princess has the spice tolerance of a victorian child she is coughing and crying at the slightest spice 😞😞

- speaking of food…my girl is a CHEF!!! she hates leaving the house and she’s too broke to buy food so she’s just in the kitchen whippin ts!!!! she even has a goofy chef hat that she wears when she cooks. (this is so ellie coded i dont know why)

- loves commentary youtubers . kurtis,danny,nickisnotgreen,jarvis, and chadchad 🔥🔥

- knows so much niche internet drama…she tries to talk abt it and ur like???? literally what are you talking about….which gives her the perfect opportunity to ramble

- so many random injuries CONSTANTLY. she’s constantly covered in cuts and bruises and has no idea where they come from (mostly her awful skateboarding)

- “this ones for you” before she devastatingly fails to do a trick on her skateboard and falls on her face, and her entire lower face is covered in nose-blood

- whenever she gets hurt, she always asks you to “kiss it better” 😞😞 so cute im dying!!!

- follows you around like a puppy all day. goes with you on all your errands, sits by you while you do work. she is ALWAYS THERE

- if u think shes bad when shes sober, she’s literally the clingiest drunk in the world!!!! she will literally be constantly attached to you. even when you go to the bathroom, she’ll literally hold ur hand through the door while u piss cuz u wouldn’t let her in 😞

- she’s even worse when she’s high, cuz shes so BOLD. will literally just randomly motorboat ur tits while ur talking with zero explanation.

- loves sitting on the floor???? literally will just be down there. sometimes when you’re on the couch she’ll sit by your feet and cling onto one of your legs

- NEEDY!!!! oh my godddd so needy. every time ur doing something not involving her she’s trying to get your attention. most of the time shes doing really stupid shit in front of you for no reason. “babe look” is her favorite thing to say

- literally had a huge bruise on her leg cuz she tried to do a cartwheel inside and banged her leg on the kitchen counter

- whenever you lay on your stomach, she loves laying her head on your ass

“it’s my favorite pillow!!”

- sometimes she just randomly squeezes ur boobs when she walks past you. always with some random sound affect too. she’ll just walk by you while you’re cooking and just honk ‘em 😕

- sleeps DIRECTLY ON TOP OF YOU. like literally lays on you like a starfish all night

-sleeptalker!!! its always the most non-coherent things ever, and it’ll last for like 30 minutes.

“no papa john i don’t wanna hit a nae nae 😞”

- cannot be trusted on the road. she is actually a hazard to public safety

- this is such an unpopular opinion but she is DEFINITELY a passenger princess. she likes staring at you too much she can’t drive she’ll crash!!!!

- does NOT exercise. but she’s like. randomly strong. she’ll carry all your groceries in one trip and push ALL your luggage when you go on vacation

- literally turns into a child when you take her to the beach. building sand castles, swimming in the water, and finding rocks and shells and bringing them to you like a dog

- definitely wears those stupid snorkel goggles when she goes swimming cuz she likes doing flips underwater and hates water in her nose

- LOVES CAMPING!!! that girl can be OUTDOORS.

- has binders full of pokemon cards. she goes to this card shop by her house that has pokemon saturdays and plays matches for like…the whole day. she can and WILL trash talk a 7 year old little boy after beating him

- follows so many niche meme pages

- orange chicken enthusiast.

- this is literally canon in the show but she HATES COFFEE. she is a chai latte woman. with oatmilk cuz like…duh….lesbian

- absolutely goated at just dance for NO REASON

- really good at making string friendship bracelets

[headspace-hotel]

Just spent a couple hours digging into this book. I'm not even sure what has worse environmental impacts, the paper the book is made of or the opinions printed within.

Is "post-colonial" literary theory a joke? It's distressing that a book printed in 2021 by a reputable academic press can be so painfully Eurocentric, and I mean PAINFULLY. The philosophical and literary frameworks drawn upon in most chapters are like what some British guy in 1802 would come up with. In most of the chapters, every framework, terminology, and example is inseparably fused to Latin, Greek, and/or Christian philosophers, myths and texts, even down to the specific turns of phrase. You would think only Europeans had history or ideas until the 20th century.

Don't get me wrong, non-european and even specifically anti-colonial sources are used, and I don't think all the writers are white people, but...that's what's so weird and off-putting about it, most of the book as a whole utterly fails to absorb anything from non-European and in particular anti-colonial points of view. The chapters will quote those points of view but not incorporate them or really give their ideas the time of day, just go right back to acting like Plato and Aristotle and Romantic poets are the gold standard for defining what it means to be human.

In brief, the book is trying to examine how literature can shed light on the climate crisis, which is funny because it completely fails to demonstrate that literature is good or helpful for the climate crisis. Like that is for sure one major issue with it, it shows that people *have* written stuff about climate change, but it sure doesn't convince you that this stuff is good.

Most of the works quoted are rather doomerist, and a lot of the narrative works specifically are apocalypse tales where most of Earth's population dies. The most coherent function the authors can propose that literature fulfills is to essentially help people understand how bad things are. One of the essays even argues that poetry and other creative work that simply appreciates nature is basically outdated, because:

“One could no longer imagine wandering lonely as a cloud, because clouds now jostle in our imaginations with an awareness of atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide and other atmospheric pollutants” (Mandy Bloomfield, pg. 72)

Skill issue, Mandy.

The menace of doomerism in fiction and poetry is addressed, by Byron Caminero-Santangelo, on page 127 when he references,

the literary non-fiction of a growing number of authors who explicitly assert, some might even say embrace, the equation between fatalistic apocalyptic narrative and enlightenment…they are authoritative in their rejection of any hope and in their representation of mitigatory action as the cliched moving of deckchairs on a sinking ship

He quotes an essay “Elegy for a country’s seasons” by Zadie Smith, who says: “The fatalists have the luxury of focusing on an eschatological apocalyptic narrative and on the nostalgia of elegy, as well as of escape from uncertainty and responsibility to act." Which is spot-on and accurate, but these observations aren't recognized as a menace to positive action, nor is the parallel to Christian thought that eagerly looks forward to Earth's destruction as a cathartic release from its pain made fully explicit and analyzed. Most of the creative works referenced and quoted in the book ARE this exact type of fatalistic, elegiac performance of mourning.

I basically quit reading after Chapter 11, "Animals," by Eileen Crist, which begins:

The humanization of the world began unfolding when agricultural humans separated themselves from wild nature, and started to tame landscapes, subjugate and domesticate animals and plants, treat wild animals as enemies of flocks and fields, engineer freshwater ecologies, and open their psyches to the meme of the ‘the human’ as world conquerer, ruler and owner.

This is what I'm talking about when I say it's dripping Eurocentrism; these ideas are NOT universal, and it's adding nothing to the world to write them because they fall perfectly in line with what the European colonizing culture already believes, complete with the lingering ghost of a reference to the Fall of Man and banishment from the Garden of Eden. It keeps going:

“Over time, the new human elaborated a view of the animal that ruptured from the totemic, shamanic and relational past.”

Okay so now she's introducing the idea of progression from shamanic nature-worshipping religions of our primitive past...hmm I'm sure this isn't going anywhere bad

“While humanity has largely rejected the colonizing project with respect to fellow humans, the occupation of non-human nature constitutes civilization’s last bastion of ‘normal’ colonialism. A new humanity is bound sooner or later to recognize and overthrow a colonialism of ‘nature,’ embracing a universal norm of interspecies justice.” (pg. 206) 

OKAY????

Not only denying that colonialism still exists, but also saying that humans' relationship with nature constitutes colonialism??

Embracing limitations means scaling down the human presence on demographic and economic fronts…(pg.207)

ope, there's the "we have to reduce the human population"

Embracing limitations further mandates pulling back from vast expanses of the natural world, thus letting the lavishness of wild (free) nature rule Earth again” (pg. 207) 

aaaaaaand there's the "we have to remove humans from wild nature so it can be freeeeeee"

don't get me wrong like I am a random white person with no particular expertise in anti-colonialist thought but I think this is an easy one. I'm pretty sure if your view of nature is that colonialism involving subjugating humans doesn't exist any more and actually humans existing in and altering nature is the real colonialism so we should remove humans from vast tracts of earth, your opinion is just bad.

Anyways y'all know I have an axe to grind against doomerism so it was probably obvious where this was going but good grief.

[403tarot]

. . . THINGS YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE WILL NOTICE THE MOST (AND LOVE) ABOUT YOU + LITTLE ANALYSIS OF THE RELATIONSHIP

hello! today's subject is future spouses, to the ones that seek a true love. take what resonates to you and leave the rest away. close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the pic that calls you the most. feedbacks are always highly appreciated <3

PICK A PILE !

* i recommend you to listen to the song and read the lyrics after reading your pile for a more immersive experience in the vibe of your relationship with your future spouse !

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 1 ...

wow, your meeting with your future spouse will be a soul connection. destiny will lead you to them so that finally, your lives regain balance.

this person will appreciate the fact that you're always willing to roll up your sleeves and solve your problems. your attitude and talent for dealing with difficult situations come from a long path of responsibilities and maturity. many times, you had to take the lead and handle situations for which you weren't prepared, with no assistance – just you and your survival instinct. however, this hasn't made you lose the part of you that wants to experience pure and true love, someone who loves you for who you are and takes care of you.

i see that this relationship will be very peaceful and kind, a new stage in both of your lives. you might feel like you've known each other for a long time, even from past lives. this sensation might scare you a bit at first because you might not be used to having someone who understands and responds to you and your ways as well as your future spouse, as your connection might be the strongest you'll ever experience with someone in your lifetime.

this person will be the one who admires the little things about you, from your most impressive talents to the sound of your laughter. expect many candlelit dinners, conversations under the moonlight, and someone who covers you with a warm blanket if you fall asleep first. they will watch you as you sleep and count each of your eyelashes, resisting the urge to trace your lips with the tips of their fingers just to touch you and make sure you're real. you will be a gift in each other's lives for sure.

cards pulled: 8 of pents, page of cups, strength, justice | the lovers, the moon | ace of wands, 2 of pents, knight of wands | ace of pents, the world | blood bond (connections)

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 2 ...

your relationship with your future spouse will be the model of the relationship you've always dreamed of. when you saw a couple with such a beautiful connection that happiness seemed to radiate from the people involved, and you wondered if you would ever have something like that, know that your relationship will be your ultimate standard.

one of the things your future spouse will admire most about you is your persistence and commitment to everything you set out to do, including your relationship. i see you as the one who takes care of things, who ensures that the relationship stays on track with your ability to always keep everything in its proper place. this person will find you very intelligent and coherent not only about life matters but also emotionally. you are someone in constant evolution who always seeks to be a new and improved version of yourself without losing your authenticity.

this relationship will make you feel capable of achieving anything when you're by this person's side. they will always encourage you to pursue your aspirations and cheer for you wholeheartedly. beyond that, they will be there with you in your victories, defeats, sorrows, and joys. you'll be able to lean on this person and open up your feelings to them because you know they'll understand you like no one else ever could.

your future spouse will love loving you and will also enjoy showing their feelings! it's as if this person wants to shout to the whole world how happy they are to have the opportunity to create a beautiful love story with you. expect them to take many photos of you to post on their feed, for you to be a frequent star in their stories, and also a significant commitment ring on your finger. after talking so much about how incredible you are to everyone, they have to make sure that everyone knows your heart already belongs to someone.

cards pulled: 4 of wands, queen of pents, page of wands, king of swords & king of wands | the sun & 6 of wands | the magician & 2 of pents | witches boots (stability)

IF YOU CHOSE PILE 3 ...

the relationship with your future spouse will sweep you off your feet. if you're the type of person who's afraid to show emotions due to past relationships and struggles with reciprocation, know that the universe plans to push you against the wall on this. your future spouse will gradually enter your heart and awaken a sentimental side within you that you never even imagined could (still) exist. they will revolutionize the way you express affection in all types of relationships you have in your life.

i see that this person will really appreciate your worldview and your stances. they'll want to know your opinion and value what you have to say; your ideas will matter to them. your future spouse will be someone who truly listens to you and cares about understanding how you see things. they'll admire how you engage with the world and how you showcase your personality through your clothes, the way you style your hair, your accessories and will notice every little aspect of your being and how it reflects in you, even things you thought no one else but you would notice.

your future spouse will want to heal your heart, and together you'll heal each other's souls. i see this person viewing you as a precious treasure and wanting to lay the world at your feet, protect you, and be a solid pillar for you to lean on during tough times. you'll both feel incredibly fortunate to have each other in your lives, and from this union, i see you both taking lessons that will help you evolve as individuals.

your future spouse will be someone who wants to take you on adventures and explore the world. visiting historical places like museums or art galleries will become a frequent routine in your lives. they're the type who'll want to take you to lunch at a quaint and charming bistro as you watch people pass by the window, trying to guess what they do in life, their purposes, and dreams. they'll love your sense of humor and how you present your ideas. expect them to gift you an album of photos containing all the memorable moments you've shared — it will be a quite thick album.

cards pulled: page of wands, 2 of wands, 9 of pents, the empress, ace of cups | queen of cups, 6 of cups & the tower | the lovers, king of cups, the emperor | queen of swords, ace of wands, 7 of cups | black kitten (inner child)

you can book a reading with me! a full analysis of your relationship with your FS + NSFW for just $30. an analysis of how would be a romantic relationship with your favorite idol is $25 and the NSFW comes with it as a bonus! check my pinned to know more!

[kasarasun]

what if I made a thing or it already was that while Airplane wrote the world, Peerless Cucumber illustrated it (only the animals. And Binghe, fighting the animals.) And then then then

He'd totally do it on an alt account, right?? Peerless Cucumber can't be seen making fanart!! (And he's good at it. Like, wiki is using his art in the monsters and beasts pages (that Peerless Cucumber volleyed for. He also separated it from the plant section.) Because 1 its good 2 the artstyle is consistent 3 there isn't a lot of monster official art, other than that one with the black moon rhinoceros python and those other ones and 4 it's really that good)

Haha incomprehensible parenthesis nesting aside, Airplane is watching the forums, right? Not sure about other stuff in canon but he looks at the forums and the fanart and the fiction and most of it is probably corn and binghe and just a little bit of mobei-jun and also the wives tm but!! There's also that guy!!! The monsters guy!! (People would probably suspect 'Drawing the Beast's Ire'- or some other sex euphemism I'm not good at making those- of being Peerless Cucumber because 1 the writing style is the same 2 Peerless Cucumber is the number 1 contributor to the PIDW wiki and a lot of it is the monsters and beasts section and it makes sense, yes??) Anyway, Airplane shooting towards the sky suspects but not too seriously suspects Mr ire of being cucumber's fanart alt but uh uh that ends pre-transmigration section

So, Shen Yuan starts running about, right? Things seem really... familiar, maybe thats the word?- for some reason. This is because every animal and plant he's ever drawn, sketched- maybe even thought about but that's a stretch?- is his design. The firefly parallels hold their forelimbs like butterflies. That is how far down it goes. Maybe it doesn't come up until later, but beasts and monsters from fanfiction get involved, oc species, too... anyway,

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky transmigrates 30 years (iirc) before Peerless Cucumber. He was an avid enough follower of Drawing the Beast's Ire to recognize that these are their designs! Here's where it gets really crazy. Xiao-Mobei comes along, and while he's still pretty young, Airplane can tell that this is Drawing Ire's design! Some aspect, maybe his ears or teeth, (this isn't a well built theoretical tangent) of Mobei isnt canon. Its Drawing Ire's. From that one Northern Kingdom collection. Whatever stretched his world building into coherence, completion, didn't just pull from fanwork, official art, whatever it could find, it went for Drawing the Beast's Ire's designs specifically. Damn that's crazy Airplane ahahaha moving on,

This is getting really long so I'll be a bit more concise, (want to know more? Talk to me. Please talk to me. I want to interact with the fandom. Ask me questions. Poke your fingers into my cage.) This all comes to head at the Immortal alliance conference. The monsters and beasts really start pouring in! And Shen Qingqiu/Yuan remembers his creations. However, he assumes that this is because like 1 other person maybe was Drawing ghost head spiders.

Hey, Peerless Cucumber really liked the monsters, right? The deadlier, crazier, more intricate, the design the better! So maybe, when he was drawing, he... added some things, really believable, logical additions, really just small creative decisions...

Anyway, the monsters that Drawing the Beast's Ire made were where it came to a head.

Lets have another Canon divergence. Maybe, during or after Binghe gets pushed in, out of the rifts comes a species that Drawing Ire created. It's beautiful, poisonous, beloved, and really quite deadly. Shen Yuan/Qingqiu, Peerless Cucumber, Drawing the Beast's Ire... realizes, quite like airplane before him, that he's illustrated, practically sculpted with his own hands, monsters from the Endless Abyss with claws and teeth and poisons as deadly as Peerless Cucumber thought that the really cool monsters could deserve. It feels like he's the one cutting, biting, poisoning his sweet little sheep. It feels like he's digging out the marrow from his little white lotus disciple's bones.

Ok it is shut up time 👍

[ss-tier-simp]

"mine" - bucky barnes x f!reader

Summary: Bucky is getting a little anxious to show you are his.

Warnings: angsty in the beginning (mentions of war and death) and then BAM here comes the smut. Bucky has a bit of a marking kink, there is a hint of cockwarming, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) . This is NSFW and contains +18 content, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

A/Ν: This is my first time dipping my toes in +18 territory, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Any mistakes made are my own, as it is unbetad and english is not my first language.

The world was a cruel place. He saw it in Brooklyn while his mother barely made meets end, just to put food on the table for his sister and him.

He saw it in the trenches of war as men, both friends and foe alike fell to their untimely demise, without a trace remaining to be sent back to their folks.

The world's cruelty was marred into his skin, wounds that never properly healed, aching. A constant reminder of what exactly was taken away from him. Memories of a past he desperately tried to forget always haunted him, never giving him much-needed peace.

It took his family away from him, his friends, his innocence, his sanity, his arm.

And it kept taking.

And taking.

The world has helped form and shape him into the man he is. A man who put a stake in things he found precious in this unfamiliar era, refusing to let the world take them away from him.

One of his most precious things was you. A fact that he was proud to show off to the world with the marks he was now sucking into the delicate skin of your throat. A brand that reminded everyone that you belonged with him.

"Bucky!" you whined as you felt his lips sucking another mark. The feel of his tongue laving against the delicate skin of your throat made your pussy clench around him.

Your chest heaved against his, trying its best to bring in the oxygen your body desperately needed. You felt lightheaded. The heat and the closeness of your bodies brought out a neediness in you.

Friction. You needed friction. You needed to feel him move. Yet the unrelenting grip he had on your hips rendered any attempt to grind against his lap futile. He got you where he wanted. Panting, moaning, writhing. Wanting.

Your hand made a beautiful trip, mapping the taut muscles of his back before it reached its destination. It found the locks of his brown hair and yanked just enough for his lips to abandon their task and force his eyes onto your pleading ones.

"Bucky, please!" you gasped, your eyes blurry with tears at the delicious torture that Bucky had subjected you to. His metal hand left its place on your hips to caress your cheek and wipe the tear that threatened to spill.

"Please, what?" his tone was taunting, but you paid it no mind.

"Bucky, please move!" the words tumbled out of your mouth, not caring about how desperate you sounded.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants." both of his hands were on your hips again. A shiver went down your body at the loss of his body heat. He straightened his body putting more weight on his legs, in favor of watching your pussy clench and weep around him.

You almost sobbed in relief when you felt his hips finally move, the slow drag of his cock stealing any coherent thought in your mind.

He moved his cock from your deepest parts, feeling your pussy tighten around him as if she was afraid that he would abandon her, leave her high and dry. He let his thrusts be shallow, the head of his cock bullying a spot in you that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

He indulged in the sounds that left your mouth, the intense heat of your pussy that sucked him in greedily, the way your back arched against the mattress.

"B-Bucky." you started but another shallow thrust managed to rob you of your words and instead replaced them with loud moans.

"What pretty girl?" Bucky couldn't help but grin at you, loving the way he reduced you to a babbling mess.

"P-please Bucky." you started again. "Please, move."

"Move?" he questioned, his thrust continuing to punch at that special spot inside you. "I'm moving baby. What do you want? Are you going to use your big girl words?"

"Want more Bucky." you sobbed. "Want it harder, want it deeper. Please Bucky, please!"

His hands found the back of your knees, as quickly as the words left your mouth, bringing them towards your chest. "Keep them there for me." His tone was firm, a demand you were more than glad to fulfill.

When you did just that, he found support on the mattress putting once again more of his body weight on you and then finally his cock found its home at your deepest part.

The pleasure robbed you of your voice, your mouth stuck in a silent scream. His strokes were deep, showing off the strength that he hid whenever he touched you. Every time he filled you to the brim. The coarse patch of hair ground against your clit giving you that extra shot of delicious pleasure.

Your moans, his grunts, the slap of skin against skin, and the squeaking of the mattress that you had to get rid of, filled the room building a beautiful harmony. A crescendo that built until it reached its climax.

"I-I'm cumming." you gasped. "Fuck, I am cumming."

"I'm close too," Bucky said. "cum for me, baby."

The tightening of your walls was the only answer he received as the pleasure got too much, your body jerking before going still as you fell off the edge into one of the most mind-blowing orgasms.

The vice-like grip of your heat as it spasmed around him was enough to set off his own orgasm, losing the tempo that he had set, and he buried himself  close as it was humanly possible.

You felt his cock pulse as he spilled inside you. An overwhelming sensation that seemed to prolong your orgasm. Bucky dipped down his head, his urge to kiss you winning over every other instinct and your lips met into a messy kiss, as you both relished in the aftermath.

He let all of his weight on you and the wheezing laugh that escaped you interrupted your kiss. You let your knees fall and instead pushed against Bucky's chest, trying to get him off you.

"Bucky, you are heavy!" you complained as you laughed, a laugh Bucky mirrored before he rolled off you and onto his side.

You felt his eyes on you and you turned to see him staring at the marks he had left on your neck, proud of his handiwork.

"You have to stop giving me hickeys, " you declared, his eyes meeting yours, their disappointment evident. "They are a bitch to cover up, every time I go to work."

"Stop with the puppy eyes." you couldn't contain the laugh at the antics of a man who is supposed to be over one hundred years old.

"What about a compromise?" he offered and you looked at him quizically.

"How about I start leaving them in places, others could only hope to see." he continued and you snorted.

"Bucky Barnes, is this a possessiveness sort of thing?" you asked and he shrugged or at least he tried as he was still lying down.

"I like people knowing you are mine," he admitted. A smile bloomed on your face and you pecked his nose enjoying how his face scrunched up.

"Unbelievable, you possessive grumpy old man!" you started to rise from the bed, to head towards the bathroom. "How about you join me for a shower? We are both sweaty and yucky."

He followed suit, sneaking upon your retreating form to grab you and lift you in his arm, a squeal leaving you at the sudden loss of the floor from your feet.

"You know I've heard great things about fun time in the shower." He commented. You were in for a long night.