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winterrrnight · 3 months

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heyy, so, it’s pride day so i was thinking a if u could do a drew/rafe imagine where the female reader is bi so he supports his girl when ppl talk shit about her

ohhh I love this so much!! I decided to go with my man drew 🤭 unfortunately this isn’t coming out on pride day, but I did manage to squeeze it in before pride month ends :) thank you so so much for your request anon, I would love to hear your views on it!! <3

here to stay

PAIRING: drew starkey x fem!bisexual!reader

SUMMARY: you experience inner turmoil when pictures of your ex-girlfriend and you resurface the internet, but it seems like you forgot Drew will always defend you no matter what.

WARNINGS: homophobia; hate comments on reader on social media and in public; one mentiom of y/n; usage of nicknames like baby and bubs; soft and sweetheart Drew; kinda toxic fandom 🫢

EDITH SPEAKS: before I got this request, I read a random charles leclerc smau that was on my dash which goes along similar lines of this request, so I have taken inspiration from that fic for this request! the credit goes to @lewisvinga and their fic ‘the only thing that matters’.

if you liked reading this, please reblog and share any feedback you may have 💐 i hope everyone had a beautiful pride month, you all are absolutely lovely 💗

AND AND AND I am dedicating this fic to the beautiful beautiful @runningfrom2am who is literally my bestest friend on this planet <3 today marks one whole year to our friendship, and words fall short to explain how much I love and appreciate her 🫶🏼🥹 I love you so so much raye, thank you for sticking with me always 💗

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You usually never do this.

‘This’ involves scrolling through social media and reaching the bottom of a pit dug so deep you’ve lost the measurement of its depth.

Some pictures of you and your ex-girlfriend from over four years ago from your college days resurfaced. You don’t know how that happened, considering how you and your ex-girlfriend always only had private socials back then, and you weren’t known for being associated with any sort of celebrity at all.

Unlike now, when you are known as Outer Banks actor Drew Starkey’s girlfriend. Drew Starkey: one of the emerging faces in Hollywood. He seems to be gaining more and more traction each day, especially leading up to the release of his movie ‘Queer’.

With his ever increasing fame, you are also becoming more and more well known. You and Drew don’t have a secret relationship, but it’s quite private. Firstly Drew isn’t active on his socials, and secondly, you’re only seen when you are Drew’s plus one for the different events he’s invited to.

Due to such scarce presence on social media and in real life, each time you and him are spotted, even a single photo tends to go extremely viral in Drew’s fandom. Headlines like‘Rare: Drew Starkey seen with his girlfriend on the streets of Paris’, ‘Drew and his girlfriend seen getting cozy in a snug Parisian café’ etc. get extremely common, and informal captions like ‘oh my godddddd drew and his girlfriend! so cute’, ‘drew and y/n spotted drew and y/n spotted drew and y/n spotted’ are also just as common.

As much as you adore Drew and his dedication to his art, you still aren’t used to the microscopic attention you get each time you and him are seen together. You feel like you’re being judged by every single eye, and they aren’t essentially thinking the best things regarding you.

Even though what you mostly see are sweet comments complimenting you and Drew, a hate comment or two does sneak its way in among the positive ones, which doesn’t essentially surprise you because you know fandoms tend to get possessive over their idols; and Drew’s fandom isn’t any different. You’ve learnt to accept it and ignore it, even though sometimes it does nag you in the back of your mind, Drew always helps you feel better and helps to get your mind off them until you practically forget you ever even read them.

But this time, this time, you fear the situation is a little out of hand.

With the photos resurfacing and the source being entirely anonymous, you aren’t seeing the best comments under the pictures. Some fans have dug so far in your life to figure out you’ve only dated girls before Drew, creating the assumption you’re actually a lesbian. Some claim you’re with Drew for his money, because your dating history is only girls, and it’s “weird” now that you’re with a man. Some claim you as a toxic partner, and say you have Drew completely fooled. You even saw a few ‘savedrew’ hashtags in the comments, but thank goodness it didn’t end up becoming an active trend.

Due to the privacy of your relationship, you never came out publicly that you’re bisexual, but your friends and family, and Drew, are fully aware about your sexuality because you are completely out to them. Drew has always appreciated you the same, before he knew you were bisexual and after he knew you were bisexual. His love for you was never impacted by your coming out, and he knows it never will.

You shut your phone and keep it aside, taking a deep, shaky breath as you look up at the ceiling of your shared hotel room with Drew. You can feel a few tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and you let your eyelids fall shut, the small tears silently starting to roll down your cheeks.

Your blurry vision trains over to the closed bathroom door from where you can hear the shower running, knowing Drew is getting ready for your night out with him. You both are in Italy as a simple vacation before Drew has to go back to LA and begin working on some upcoming projects, and it’s your first night in the country, for which you’ve decided to have authentic Italian gelato as an after dinner treat.

You can practically hear the comments you have read in your head, all of them getting progressively worse. You know you aren’t using Drew for his money, and Drew knows that too, yet the comments and watching an entire fandom side against you was starting to get to you.

Your thoughts are cut through smoothly when you hear Drew stepping out of the washroom after his shower, a towel tied neatly around his waist.

“You ready?” He asks you sweetly as he gets some clothes to wear.

You nod at him and watch him finish getting ready for your little night out as you sit there, pushing the ugly comments as far as you can in your head.

Drew gets ready in a few minutes and you both leave your hotel, walking out on the cobblestoned streets of the beautiful city, letting the streetlights and lamp posts enlighten your path for you.

You both walk in silence with your hand perfectly intertwined with his, your gaze fixed down at your shoes and the way they clack against the cobblestones. Drew notices you being quieter than usual, and he feels tempted to ask you what’s on your mind, because the last thing he ever wants to see is you feeling sad or bothered by something in any sort of way.

But before Drew can even think of acting on his thoughts, you both are forced to turn your heads around when you hear shouts of Drew’s names being called. Your eyes fall on a group of youngsters, and the moment they grab Drew’s attention, they yell out more sounds of excitement, ushering over to him.

He laughs affectionately when he’s surrounded by the small group of the fans, causing you to be pushed just a little to the side; something you’ve gotten the hang of because you know the fans are essentially here to see him, and not you. So you decide to take a couple steps back and watch Drew interact patiently with everyone, letting them take pictures and videos with him as he talks and signs their shirts, books etc. for them.

You can see a young girl and a boy from the group constantly giving you a side eye as you decide to distract yourself with your phone after you take a picture or two of Drew meeting the group. You can’t lie, the side eyes seem quite judge-y to you and you feel yourself fidgeting under their gaze.

But it gets worse when they speak within themselves but it’s loud enough that you catch it, and Drew catches it.

“She’s still with him?” The girl says to the boy who just rolls his eyes.

“Drew clearly didn’t catch the message,” the boy mumbles, and your eyes dart over to Drew who was signing a girl’s cap but stopped at the words. You catch the look in his eyes; it’s the look of protectiveness, possessiveness and anger all mixing in one – a very dangerous combination to be seen in Drew’s usually warm blue eyes.

“What did you say?” Comes his voice. It’s low, monotone, and carries a very heavy drift of coldness. The sudden deep words cause everyone to fall silent, especially the boy and the girl, who’s eyes widen when they realize Drew has his gaze zeroed on them.

“N-nothing…” the boy stammers, and you can see both the girl and boy have their pulse quickening more and more with each passing second.

You can see how scared they are starting to get, and you quickly rush over to Drew’s side, your fingers curling around his bicep in that all too familiar way; the way you use when Drew gets slightly more angry than he should and is on the verge of blowing up.

This touch of yours always causes him to start to calm down, but this time, he isn’t even close to relaxing. You can see his muscles are tensing even more as he glares at the boy and the girl.

“Drew please–” you begin to speak slowly, your fingertips starting to dig into his bicep but he ignores you.

“No, I want to hear them repeat what they said.” He mutters through gritted teeth, his attention fixed on the boy and the girl. “What did you say about my girl? ‘Why is she still with me?’ Why wouldn’t she still be with me huh?”

The girl and the boy fall completely silent, and so does the entire group. They get completely nervous under Drew’s cold gaze, all of them looking any other way but at Drew or you.

“Now I don’t know what that was about,” he begins, “but I better not hear more of that bullshit alright?” His words come out disdainful, his entire body stiff as you feel his bicep tighten under your grip.

With one scoff he takes your hand which is around his bicep in his own hand and pulls you away from the group. “Come on let’s go baby,” he says, not looking even once at the group as he leads you away from them.

Once you both are out of their earshot, he turns around in a small alleyway and stops you both right there.

“Don’t listen to them bubs, please don’t,” He mumbles softly, his hand coming up to your cheek to gently caress your skin. “You know it’s all just bullshit, their jealousy is bullshit,”

You let out a soft sigh as you feel his fingers softly trail over your cheek. This is what he always tells you when you encounter the common hate you tend to get for being with him, but this time, you know it was for an entirely different reason.

“This was different Drew,” you mutter, your gaze fixed down at your shoes, your fingers fiddling with each other.

Drew’s eyebrows furrow at your words. “Different? Different how?”

You take a deep breath and exhale it out from your nose as you train your gaze up to meet his. “My old pictures with my ex-girlfriend from college resurfaced on the internet, along with my past dating history,” you whisper, “and everyone’s been saying I’m taking advantage of your money and I have you fooled because I’ve only dated girls before you, and they think I’m a lesbian,”

Drew’s eyes widen at these words escaping your lips, his fingers caressing your cheek stopping its motion. “Jesus,” he mutters, and you can see flecks of anger and rage beginning to appear in his eyes.

A small silence falls over you both as you both look in different directions, your gaze back at your shoes and his flitting around your surroundings of the alleyway, as if in deep thought.

“I’ll talk about it,” he says suddenly, causing you to look up in his eyes with a hint of confusion in your eyes. “I’ll address this on social media, I’ll say I’ve always known you’re bisexual, and that you’ve always been out, and I’ve never doubted that. This can’t go on, the last thing I want is people being homophobic to you just because you’ve only dated girls before I came in your life. You don’t deserve that baby, and I’ll fix this matter right up okay?”

You look at him with your eyes starting to widen, a thin layer of glass forming over them.

“Unless–” he says again, “you don’t want to come out to the general public?”

“No no,” you shake your head at his words, “I’m okay with that, more than okay with that,” you mumble.

Drew sighs softly as he nods, his hands trailing down your arms and finding your hips, which he gently squeezes before pulling you in a warm embrace.

“I’m so sorry you had to hear that baby,” he whispers. “I’m so so sorry. I’ll fix this first thing tomorrow you hear me? There is no way in heck I’m letting you hear more on this,”

You bury your face in his chest and close your eyes shut, a few tears making their way down your eyes and pressing against his shirt as they do so. He squeezes you closer to him when he feels your tears against his shirt, one hand coming up to slip into your hair and gently scratch your scalp.

“Thank you, Drew,” you mumble against his shirt, your voice coming out muffled.

“Don’t thank me bubs this is the least I can do,” he says softly. He gently pulls your head back from his chest, holding your face in his hands as he looks in your eyes.

“The next time you see something on social media you tell me straight away okay? Don’t hide anything from me, I’ll find a way to fix it each time,” he whispers, his thumbs caressing your cheeks to wipe the tears.

You nod as you look back in his eyes, a look of earnest gratitude shining through them.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, letting his lips linger against your skin for a moment before looking back in your eyes. He pulls from the embrace and takes your hand, intertwining his with it firmly.

“Now come on, I believe I still have to buy you some gelato,” he says softly with a warm smile, tugging gently on your hand.

You sniff as you nod, letting him lead you out of the silent alleyway.

The post debuts on Drew’s Instagram the very next morning, a long caption along with a carousel of your favorite pictures with him throughout the years of your dating journey. The comments fill up with supporters, everyone showering you with love and loads even congratulating you for coming out to the general public. The comments and appreciation makes you smile warmly, making you realize no matter what happens, Drew will always be by your side, because he’s here to stay.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am, @saccharinesammie, @maybankslover, @totalswag, @madelynie, @chenslucy /

@ietss, @elle-mp3, @viawritesstuff, @wallsdreams, @mistress-amidala, @sadfury, @sage-burrow /

@jamesbuckybarneswify, @xxxlaura, @callsignwidow, @starkowswife, @drewstarkeyswifehoe, @jjchaer /

@f4ll-for-you, @wearemadeofstardust0, @drewsmusee, @rafegirly, @addriaenne /

@leighbronk, @rafesdrew, @bejeweledreverie, @raf3sgff, @aerangi, @drewstarkey1bae /

@moneymaybank, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @noahkahansorangejuice, @rafesgiirl, @theoraekenslover /

@fals3-g0d, @personalfavsthatarerandom, @b1mb0slvt, @babypoguelife, @ilyrafe, @oxpogues4lifexo /

@fionaswifeyy /

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey oneshot #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey outer banks #drew #written by edith! 🪄#edith answers! 🪄#anon! 🪄

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die-pink-maus · 8 months

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A Weekend in Vienna 🇦🇹

While vacationing in Germany, Chantelle’s (OC) best friend, Adrian (also an OC), books an impromptu trip to Vienna to visit extended family. Chantelle decides to join her for the last few days of her trip, where she meets an interesting friend of Adrian’s family who offers to show the two around the city for the weekend🤭

TW: Pretty much none, not for this chapter anyway, but things will get 🌶️spicy🌶️ in the next parts. Also there is an age gap between OC and König, she is 25 and he is about 36-37.

CW: FemOCs, female pronouns used, while both characters are technically OCs please feel free to imagine them however you’d like, ultimately the main character is the reader, I just didn’t want to use “Y/N” so I gave them names 🙈

Word Count: 1,516

*DISCLAIMER*

This is my first time EVER writing any kind of fan fiction so please go easy on me 😭 if you like where things are going, likes and reblogs would be greatly appreciated! If you’d like to see anything in particular in the next part or part(s), I’d love to hear it!

This version of König is based on the above interpretation drawn by @lettaniko (I hope you don’t mind me using it! I absolutely love this drawing it’s perfect! 🫶🏼)

I like a nice build up to the smut so if you like to get right into it this is probably not going to be for you…but if you can wait I it out I promise it’ll be worth it 😂

Enjoy! 💋

7:30am. There’s approximately 30 minutes before my train departs for Vienna, and I still haven’t reached the train station yet. I scrambled as I dashed out of my hotel room, hoping I’d left the place in a somewhat decent state and I hadn’t forgotten anything valuable as got into the elevator. I’ve been exploring Munich for the past two weeks and I’ve been having the absolute time of my life. Although traveling alone can be quite scary, oddly enough, I’ve never felt more at home. Munich is such a vibrant city, filled with all kinds of exciting things to do and I’ve met so many incredible people, it’s definitely been the experience of a lifetime. To say that I am not looking forward to going back home to Vancouver would be an understatement, but all good things must come to an end. I’d spent about a year and a half learning to speak German, and promised myself that I would plan a trip in celebration of achieving fluency, so here I am! Now, Vienna wasn’t initially on my list of places to visit when I decided to come to Germany, but my best friend, Adrian, ended up booking a spur of the moment flight last week to visit extended family in Austria and suggested I come hangout with her during the last few days of my trip. Seeing as its only a 3-4hr train ride from Munich, I figured why the hell not! I’ve heard Vienna is beautiful, and Im at all not opposed to exploring another city.

Upon arrival at the train station in Vienna I was greeted by Arian, excitedly jumping up and down while holding up a large white sign that read “Willkommen in Wien, Schlampe!” I rolled my eyes and shook my head, laughing as I got off the train and ran over to her, tackling her in a tight embrace as she laughed hysterically. “Did you have to let the whole station know that I’m a bitch or…?”

“Honestly, they should’ve known the moment they saw you.” She said jokingly. “How was the ride over?” She asked.

“Amazing, I haven’t slept that well in years. It also didn’t feel like a 4 hour train ride.”

“Trains in out here are quite quick so I wouldn’t be surprised if it somehow took less time. They definitely shit on the ones we have back home.”

“Oh for sure.” I agreed as we began walking over to the car.

“So a family friend of ours just came back from a mission in the states, he’s in the military bee tee dubs —“

“Yeah kinda pieced that together when you said ‘mission’.” I chuckled.

“I don’t drive out here so he’s gonna give us a ride back to my aunts, cool?”

“Sounds good.”

“He’s also a lot more familiar with Vienna than I am, so he offered to show us around a bit later on this evening.” Aw how nice of him. Knowing Adrian, the first place she’ll want to be taken to is the nearest bar, that girl can drink! If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time in Germany, and my 10 years of friendship with Adrian, it’s that Europeans love their liquor. There are people from all parts of Europe in Germany and that’s one thing that remains quite consistent across the board. I also love my liquor, which is probably why I ended up fitting in so well.

We finally arrived at the car and opened the trunk to begin loading all of my luggage inside. I’d brought a small carryon suitcase, a duffle bag, as well as a large suitcase that was full of clothes I’d over packed from home, and a bunch of other clothes and souvenirs I’d bought in Munich. “Okay this one’s gonna be a tad heavy.” I warned as Adrian grabbed hold of the handle on the top. I reached forward to try to help her lift, but neither of us could manage the weight. “I got it.” His voice was low, but gentle. He had an accent, but it wasn’t overwhelming or harsh, nor did it make anything he said hard to understand. I wasn’t expecting to see the person I saw when I’d finally caught a glimpse of him…I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man like this in my entire life. Adrian and I stepped back as he grabbed hold of the suitcase, lifting it with absolute ease, as if it were light as a feather. His arm muscles bulged within the confines of his olive green long sleeved shirt as he tossed the suitcase inside the trunk. My heart began to race, It felt as if I was watching him move in slow motion. “Easy peasy.” He smirked as he turned around and looked down at me, his dazzling dark blue eyes awash with amusement at Adrian and I’s prior struggle. Jesus Christ…This man is an absolute unit. He’s gotta be at least 6 foot 7, if not taller. He’s incredibly easy on the eyes in a rough and rugged kinda way — a nice low trimmed beard, medium length dark brown hair, and a smile that is captivatingly dangerous to say the least. His presence alone exudes a confidence that causes me to grow weak in the knees. “I’m König,” he smiled knowingly as he stretched his hand out towards me. I know I’m definitely not the first woman to look at him the way I am. Even though I’m trying to keep my composure, it’s very clear that he can see right through it. “And you must be Chantelle?” He asked, eyes slowly roaming about my frame from head to toe. He bites his lip slightly as they return to my gaze, suggesting so much without saying any words at all. “I — yes.” I blushed, sheepishly brushing my hair behind my ear as I shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.” He said. “Oh yeah, König Chantelle, Chantelle König.” Adrian yelled from the backseat. He laughed and shook his head as he closed the trunk.

We arrived at Adrian’s aunts house about 45 minutes later. König helped us load all of my things into the foyer before letting us know he’d be coming back in a few hours to take us out to this bar that he and a few of his buddies on his task force frequent whenever they’re home. I’ve been thinking about him ever since he left — those mysterious blue eyes, the way he slightly bites his lower lip just before laughing at something ridiculous Adrian has said, the way his arm muscles swell beneath his shirt with the slightest movement…God, he’s sexy. I could think of a million different ways I’d want him to ruin me. The thought alone of being trapped beneath his large brawny frame writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into me over and over has me clenching around nothing. Though I’m not usually one for a one time fling, I have a feeling he’d be able to convince me. “So, you wanna tell me what all of that was about?” Adrian asked as she helped me settle into the guest room. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “Since when are you a shy girl?” She giggled. Sigh. I figured she was referencing my unusual silence during the car ride over here. “He’s hot as fuck but I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“Ugh!” I groaned as I covered my face with a pillow. She’s right. I’m not very easily intimidated. I’m quite the confident woman and I ensure everyone in the room knows it, but this was different. Almost as if our energies were fighting for dominance, and mine didn’t stand a chance. “Hey if it’s any consolation, my jaw dropped the first time I saw him without his mask too.” Mask?

“Mask?” I asked.

“Yes…the last time I was here he was on base training recruits, so I’d see him often in full tactical gear. He’s a snipper, so he wears a mask to hide his face in the field. I mean, that was hot too, but in a Ghostface kinda way”

I couldn’t help but laugh at the comparison, but I was curious to see what his entire ensemble looked like. “How old is he?” I asked.

“I think he’s in his mid to late 30s? I’m honestly not too sure, and it doesn’t matter to me either way.” She winked. “I was sensing some unspoken vibes between the two of you in the car though. Don’t think I didn’t see both of you stealing glances at each other every now and then.” She smirked.

“Stop,” I scoffed. “A man like that is definitely not single, and even if he is…I don’t know” I blushed. “I didn’t see him looking at me..”

“K well I see everything, he definitely likes what he sees, and clearly the feeling is mutual on your end as well. Looks like tonight will be interesting.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Adrian.” I laughed as I rolled my eyes. Nothing’s gonna happen…right?

PART II 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART II

PART III 👉🏽 A Weekend In Vienna 🇦🇹: PART III

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anantaru · 8 months

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You think rape is funny? Maybe once you fucking experience it you won’t. Fucking cunt.

hello. so I'll just jump right into this. tw. discourse tw. mentioning r*pe.

@saetoru made this claim about me:

saetoru, could you add proof at least? i can not remember a time where i would repost a joke like that so i'd love for you to show me proof please, this is all I'm asking.

also how was it on your dash, on your own dash and @dottores dash, when you have never followed me? + but maybe it was the for you feature that was the same for the both of you.

accusing someone without proof is not okay, again, i can not remember doing this so if you have a screenshot add it so i can remember and apologize, but i can't do anything because i don't remember saying a joke with SA in mind.

before that i just want to mention: i don't think r*pe is funny, i'm not a dark content blog either so i do not really reblog dark content things because i'm sure most of my readers don't want that + I'm just not into that as well. the only joke i was "called out" for once is when i used a "i want xyz character to smack their laptop on my face or tits" which i got from an andrew garfield interview where he read his thirst tweets out loud, at that time i just deleted it because it's alright.

dottores, your mutuals, two of them to be exact, have sent me multiple of your personal blog hate posts about me and not once, have you made one where you talked about me saying an SA joke. you have only claimed that i am a cunt and that i am a gatekeeping bitch hence why i believed this must be the reason why you would suddenly hate me despite the fact we never interacted.

now, I want to address this next, this is from @dottores post which when i got it sent to me, i would've wished she just tagged me right away and said it with her chest, more so not let saetoru talk about her experience but just handle this with me.

^ this is cat @dottores saying i got it wrong.

^ this is why i believed she meant it just like i said it, why do you go through blogs that grow really fast's notes in the first place? where do you take the right to police other blogs like that when i'm sure your blogs aren't empty of blank blogs either. it is hard to get rid of all of them but i'm sure we all try at least, we don't need you to make us feel bad or come off as belittling, if you have found out a way to get rid of every blank blog, do enlighten us please.

+ at that time of this reblog icks?? post that saetoru added, my blog was blowing up so when a moot of mine (which was also theirs at a time) saw this, they had sent it to me.

"creators that grow really fast" and nowhere has she mentioned she only went through only her own moots notes, aside from that apologies but i still find this weird, i don't think you should invest so much time in other people's blog but this is my opinion.

this is the next thing she said:

i don't know if dottores meant me there but i have never once harassed you nor sent you hate anywhere, again you cannot just accuse me of stuff like that when you have also never reached out to me. The things i claimed about you guys in your callout, i have text messages of the person (your moot) who sent it to me.

but back again, the only thing i did do was block dottores on tumblr and then later ao3 when i saw you in tags, which you made fun of me for later:

also i got this ask that time:

"who blocks on ao3?" i do, ao3 is the platform i use the most so why is it funny when i use the block button? + i just like to point something out here, "they must've clicked to read and realize it was me" you can think that if you want i don't mind, but let me ask you this: i have seen you in tags hence why i was able to block you, but how did you notice i did? you can't see me in tags so surely you didnt click on my work, so you must've searched up my user for whatever reason?

and i know this is about me because she added the "this person called me chronically online" i couldn't find the post but what she was talking about is me calling other writers who reblogged that one "ick post" with not needed things such as "when writers cant characterize a character" or "when they only write headcanons", i have plenty of screenshots of that post but since i don't want to use up all my space here, i don't see why i should show their reblogs from this.

there were plenty of people like that, which reblogged horrible things there so i called everyone under that post chronically online, not just you dottores.

yeah :) like people making fun of someone for blocking them for their own comfort. i just don't want to see you, that's all, but i have never send you hate asks nor harassed you, the only thing i did was block the blogs your own mutuals exposed to me.

^ this is after i felt bad for you after the callout.

this is coming from your own mutuals, i have never alone claimed you guys are jealous of me nor is there anything to be jealous about. i am just a blog, this here is not being popular, no one knows who i am and i do not need to pride myself in having a big blog on tumblr.com, and my readers know that. we are all the same here.

i didn't mean you here saetoru but i understand that it sounded that way, the phrasing was a little off, for that i apologise that i made you upset with this, english is not my first language, i'm french, and when it comes to this callout post i was so fed up with it that i just posted it without looking for grammar mistakes etc. + this is about one of your friends who deleted their personal the second i announced i got their user, that was something with kaeya, when they sent me a hate ask. i won't expose it here but that person was also the one who blacklisted a friend of mine for liking itto.

i think there is a lot more but i will stop it there, this could've ended differently and i'm sad that it ended this way. I wish you all the best and i mean it, i hope we all can learn from this and move on, write on tumblr for our favorite characters because it's fun and stay away from drama. If you made it this far thank you 💓 — yoru

#tw discourse #tw rape

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dragongirltongue · 9 months

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New Pinned post <3

Hi there, the name is Zelda, or one of like, 20 other names that may or may not be listed somewhere around here. If you know a name I go by that isn't findable here don't use it. <3

I'm bigender which is made up of girl and fem6oy, as such I use she/her and sometimes he/him pronouns when I'm feeling fem6oy enough <3

I'm in my 30s, not getting more specific than that until I decide it's not true enough to change it, don't try to find my exact age as I don't like sharing that information publicly, I don't even update it on my birthday <3

I'm a polyamorous bisexual voraphile freak and if you're over 18 you're welcome to talk to me about how much of a freak I am. I love to flirt and encourage it. Also happy to share my Other Blog with anyone interested, again as long as you're of age. <3

I'm a film graduate and currently working on doing something with that experience as well as working on a superhero comic and a 2D zelda style game. Feel free to bug me about any of those I love to discuss writing and media and want to encourage media literacy. <3

I'm also an ex-jehovahs witness and as a result I'm hugely into the holiday season in a very against my old god kinda way. Also big into sinning <3

Also I'm like, a dragon in probably an otherkin/thetadelta kinda way, like, it's core to who I am and how I understand myself so yeah. Despite this my fursona is a fox, the dragon in my icon is literally me <3

I also draw sometimes and when I do it'll be posted to @dragongirldrawings but always reblogged here too.

Also I'm a member of a plural system, feel free to check out the rest of the system over here @haven-sys <3

Further on the identity weirdness I'm an imaginary friend for the person who used to inhabit this body, they've been gone for like, over 20 years so it's not really relevant but I have started embracing my nature as a fictional creation, it's comforting.

Btw, if one of my posts containing my typing quirk ends up on your dash I take no responsibility for it. I use it in posts that are for me only and if they happen to resonate with others that's their choice to reblog.

I had intended to set tipping up on my blog for a while but adhd caused me to never get around to it sooo, homebrew tip button on my original posts. Feel free and outright encouraged to steal this idea <3

So yeah that's me, hiii I love you all <3

this post is specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue

DNI list under the read more.

lmao imagine if I actually made one of those finally, that's how you'd know I've been replaced with an evil clone or something.

That being said if you're looking at my blog to send me an ask or dm about what someone gets off to please understand unless they're actively hurting someone I rly don't care. I have a lot of ignored and blocked anons about this.

This goes double if the person you're trying to alert me to is trans femme, we don't play that game here, especially given that I know I've been targetted for things as simple as engaging in vore the wrong way for some people or whatever.

Like, I just want to make it clear I rly don't give a fuck what another adult does in the bedroom, I rly don't care if the bedroom happens to include their blog and I rly don't care if they like to flirt about it with other adults on this website.

Also if your pinned post is a callout for anyone about anything it's likely to set off my paranoia around you, which is to say I will not be able to trust you if this is the case even if it's for someone who's actually a danger to a community, like, actively.

Like, this ain't a moral stance or anything, it's a mental health thing. I see that you want to make your first point of contact into a crosshair on someone else I'm gonna be scared you're gonna aim at me next even if it's completely reasonable that you'd never find anything objectionable with me. It scares me and I'm gonna spend every interaction walking on egg shells around you cos what if you're digging for dirt, like, I got no way of knowing.

Anyway as the opening joke implies I don't see any worth in having a list of things to not interact with me over cos the lived experience on this planet is so full of nuance and I've formed deem friendships with people who'd probably have avoided me if I had a DNI and they cared about it.

I think DNIs are dumb but this feels like a space to talk about some general limits on what I'm gonna put up with on this website. I'm just here for a good time with other freaks, anything else is optional. If you want to drag me into your discourse at this point then I guess this is whre I ask you to Do Not Interact. To anyone else, I love yall <3

If you've been directed here after sending an ask my way please apologize for wasting my time [here]

tl;dr DNIs are dumb but don't drag me into your personal grievances with others.

this post is still specifically a6out tum6lr user Zelda dragongirltongue [tip]

#6aaah #last updated june 4 #adding my tip 6utton on here too

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year

Text

It Started With a Whisper - Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI. You are in charge of your own reading experience. Some sentences are intentional AAVE. Cursing, mentions of sex and private parts. This is some time after Steve jogs next to Sam. Soft Sam, fluff. Non-inclusive language, mentions of emotionally abusive family, caregiver, burdens, ill family members. Lots of fluff, dash of angst.

Summary: You are the front desk clerk who started a few months ago and you have a major crush on Sam Wilson, the handsome and sweet trauma counselor. Sam made you eat your words as Steve does swing by the VA and you have to hold up your end of the bet.

Word Count: 5,256k

Masterlist

A/N: Yeah...this ended up on the long side. Rare of me, but I hope it flows and that you melt like I did reading it. Writing about him has...made me love him even more? I've never been to DC, so don't shoot me. Don't forget to take breaks and hydrate! Ik the gif isn't from the movie, but this is a really silly Sam. Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @multiversefanfics @wanniiieeee @hidden-treasures21 @targaryenvampireslayer @chaos-4baby

“Excuse me, do you know where I can find Sam Wilson?”

You looked up from this week’s schedule with a polite smile on your lips. Your eyes shuttered as you took in the man before you. Your smile dropped.

“You’re…”

“Steve Rogers,” the man said. He held out his hand to you. You continued to stare at the man. The videos didn’t do him justice. He was handsome in the classic American kind of way. His hair was short, he had a boyish grin, and clear blue eyes. He wore a dark jacket and white shirt.

And holy hell…the muscles. “Well, fancy seeing Captain America here.” Ariel rolled her chair closer to the front and took Captain America’s hand. She held on a second too long and a faint blush crossed his cheeks.

“Please, just Steve.” He swung his hand to you and Ariel nudged you with her elbow.

“Right. Hi, Mr. Rogers.” You shook his hand and mentally kicked yourself from here to Egypt. You were going to smack Sam when you saw him. He set yo ass up. And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker.

“Steve, please. Please,” he said with a chuckle.

“Sam’s in the middle of a meeting. If you’d like, I can tell him you’re here,” you said.

“No, thank you. I’d actually like to catch some of it, if that’s okay?” Steve asked.

You nodded and giggled. Like a teenager. Get a grip. You told him the room that Sam works out of and Steve thanked you. Ariel eyed him up and down and waved to him.

“Thank you. For everything you did for New York,” you managed to eke out. You had no idea what his life was like but from all the dozens of documentaries floating out there, it wasn’t every day that you actually got to meet a real life superhero.

People were still on the fence about superheroes. Some thought they were a government conspiracy. Some thought they were unnecessary. And there was only so much arguing with online trolls you could do. If it weren’t for these superheroes, the world would be bowing to that Loki guy and those freakish aliens.

You thought of your mom and her growing paranoia. It was so bad, she stopped leaving the house. You couldn’t fathom her having to see them every day or being under their control.

“Team effort, wasn’t all me. But thank you,” Steve said. He smiled with that boyish grin and took off down the hall towards Sam’s meeting room.

“Hm, I just want that white boy to pick me up and throw me across the room. I’d say thank you,” Ariel sighed. You laughed and smacked her arm. “Shut up.”

Ariel leveled you with a shit-eating grin. She slid along the desk until she was in your personal space. “Soo, what are you wearing to your date with Sam?”

You groaned and plopped your head on the desk. “I’m so dumb. Why did I agree to that bet?” You kicked your feet under the desk.

“Because you like that man. And you wanted to go. I don’t know why you keep actin’ like you don’t.”

Now it was your turn to level a glare at Ariel. “I would love to go out with Sam. But my family…”

“Your family nothing. What, you’re gonna wait on them hand and foot? At some point, they have to let you grow up.”

You pursed your lips. Ariel had heard every complaint and incident involving your family. So she knew the whole sordid affair just like you knew her feelings on the matter. She thought that you should just move out and to hell with all of them.

But you weren’t built like that. Behind all the gaslighting, the toxicity, and narcissism, there was a kernel of love there. You couldn’t tell your Dad that you couldn’t take him to his appointments. You couldn’t tell your mom that you refused to run errands for her since she can’t go outside anymore. Your siblings were in school. If you didn’t take them, who would?

It was unfair that the burden was all on you. There were times when you went to bed crying your eyes out. Every morning, you got up and squared your back and handled business. For right now, there was no alternative so it was pointless arguing with Ariel when she would only tell you the same thing.

She was your best friend, but she reacted so strongly to anything involving your family. After a while, it was easier to stop bringing them up.

Both of you returned to your work. You idly gossiped about how Sam knew Steve. If he said they went jogging, then he wasn’t such a liar after all. You’d pay good money to see Sam jog near Steve, a whole super soldier.

Hell, you just wanted to see Sam jog, let’s be a little honest. You daydreamed for the next hour or so until the sound of Ariel’s chair rolling caught your attention. You swiveled to face her.

She half stood and half squatted as she looked down the hallway. “What are you doing?” You asked.

“They’re done with the meeting. Sam’s talking to Steve right now,” she whispered, even though Sam’s room was a ways down the hall.

Not one to be left out, you mirrored Ariel’s pose and caught a glimpse of Sam and Steve talking in the hallway. Sam wore a blue and gray plaid shirt, open at the collar, and a white tee underneath. He also wore khaki pants. You had teased him relentlessly about his old man way of dressing. He merely struck a pose and said he knew he looked good.

Your lips curved into a smile at the thought. That boy was goofy as hell. You often caught yourself smiling over something he said or did while you talked during your coffee runs.

As you watched, their conversation seemed more on the serious side. Captain America was right there, but your eyes kept drifting over Sam and the way he filled out the outfit. Damn him. He did look good.

Sam shook Steve’s hand before Steve left with a final wave down the hall. You and Ariel sat down with soft giggles at being caught. Whistling drew your attention back over the counter as Sam floated into view with an annoying grin on his face.

“Well, well, well,” he said.

You lasted two seconds before breaking out into a laugh. You stood up and leaned over the counter.

“That was a set up and you led me right to it,” you said.

He shrugged with a sugary sweet smile. “I merely used all of my hard earned battle training to my advantage. Never enter a bet you aren’t sure of winning,” he said.

“Then you’ve clearly never had a wild night in Vegas,” Ariel piped in.

“I’ve had a couple,” Sam said.

“Naw. The stories I could tell about me and–” You glared at Ariel and silently dared her to say another word.

“Oh, wait, wait. You get down like that?” Sam matched your pose and brought his face closer to you. It was the closest you two had ever been and your eyes flicked to his lips before you remembered yourself.

“Not telling. And neither is Ariel,” you said.

Sam groaned and tilted his head. “Just one story?” He gave you an adorable pout and you laughed.

“No! What happens in Vegas…”

He sighed dramatically. “You’re no fun. So what time should I pick you up tonight?” He asked.

“Tonight? That’s not enough notice!” Mild panic rushed through you. You had to pick up your siblings, make sure everyone had dinner, and make sure your mom actually took her meds. Then, you had to find an outfit and get dolled up and…

“Hey, hey, I was kidding,” Sam said. He reached out and patted your hand. You turned your head away and took a few deep breaths. He squeezed your hand in short bursts until you looked at him.

“I’m sorry. It was a dumb joke. When can I take you out?”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I’m the one that’s sorry. I…I do better when I have advanced notice for things,” you admitted.

Sam nodded. “I can work with that. Is Friday okay? Or do you need to check your schedule and rearrange your other dates?”

You laughed and tapped his arm. “Shut up. Friday is fine, Sam.” You smiled at him, hoping he’d forget all about your mini freak out. He eyed you as if he didn’t but smiled and nodded.

“Friday it is. Wear something comfortable,” he said.

You squinted at him. “Where are you taking me?” You asked.

“And spoil the surprise? Not a chance. I’m gonna get this right, don’t you worry,” he said with a smirk.

You wanted to challenge him on it. However, a bet was a bet and you always kept your word. Sam hadn’t let you down so far and there was no reason to keep giving him the third degree.

“I’m really looking forward to it,” you said.

Sam raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ariel. “You didn’t tell her to say that to put me out of my misery, did you?”

Ariel threw up her hands. She wasn’t even trying to pretend that she hadn’t been paying attention this entire time. You supposed it was better than having to rehash it all.

“That’s all her. I’m sure Captain America finally convinced her to give you a shot,” she said.

“He did not!” You laughed. Sam laughed with you.

“I mean…have you seen him?” Sam joked, making Ariel and you laugh.

You slapped his arm again. “You have serious issues. I hope you know that,” you told him.

“Nope, I just got a date with the most gorgeous woman in all of DC. Nothin’ can bring me down right now,” he said. He rapped his knuckles against the counter and walked backwards. He smirked and bowed his head before turning around and heading back to his meeting room.

You stood there, frozen, your mouth slightly agape. That…

“Girl, you need to get under that man and lock it down,” Ariel said.

Her voice saved you from having to think about what he just said. You knew you were gorgeous. But to hear him say it with his deep voice just turned you into a puddle.

You sat down in your seat. His words replayed over and over in your head. You had a date with Sam Wilson. Who had that on their bingo card, show of hands?

***

Friday night arrived and you were a ball of nerves. You wore a navy babydoll tee, leggings, and sandals. It was appropriate for a date and still sexy. The babydoll tee had a low neckline, giving a little peek at your boobs. You didn’t know if you’d sleep with Sam tonight, but the night was young.

You paced in the living room and wrung your hands. Your siblings were squared away, eating their dinner to rising protests about how they weren’t babies. Your dad was left snoozing in front of the TV and his legs up on the recliner. And your mom…paced with you and asked you a million questions about Sam.

“Are you sure he isn’t an alien?” She asked.

“As much as I can be. I’m not a doctor,” you said.

“Where did you meet him?”

“At work, mom.” You tried to keep the annoyance out of your voice. She had a serious condition that everyone was doing their damndest to accommodate. At the same time, you wished someone would accommodate you for once. You hadn’t been out on a date in…you didn’t want to think about how long.

On the off chance that you recognized someone was trying to ask you out, you made excuse after excuse. You didn’t want the extra drama. You didn’t want to…well, be in this exact situation with your mom breathing down your neck and making your own anxiety worse.

All day, your stomach had been in painful knots. You’d talked yourself out of going a million times. But yesterday, on your coffee run with Sam, he asked for your number. You gave it and he had been just as sweet over text as he was in person. You worried that you’d run out of things to talk about. That was impossible with Sam. He made sitting in bumper to bumper traffic sound interesting.

Blessedly, the doorbell rang. Your mom squealed and headed for the dining room with your siblings. They knew the drill. They started to engage her in conversation until she stopped focusing on you and answered their questions. They were little shits, but they were yours.

You went to the front door and took a deep breath. You opened it to find Sam standing there wearing a dark gray Henley, a mocha leather jacket, dark jeans, and sneakers. He looked scrumptious. With a fresh haircut and his goatee trimmed.

He looked you up and down with equal scrutiny and he smiled. “You look amazing,” he said.

“Not so bad yourself. I see you trying to step it up,” you said.

Per his usual, he struck a pose and chuckled. “Had to show out a little bit. As much as I definitely want you to stay perfect, you’re gonna need a jacket. A real one. Nothin’ like a sweater or those half-sweaters ya’ll be wearing,” he said.

You laughed and shook your head. On the wall by the door, there was a hook with jackets and sweaters that you wore all the time. You grabbed a heavy black hoodie that still went with your outfit.

“Is that going to work for this mystery date?” You asked.

He reached out and felt it. “It’ll do. Ready?” He asked.

You nodded and locked up behind you. Before long, you were in his car and heading…somewhere. He refused to tell you where. You grew up here so you tried to guess with each stop and turn that he made.

“Is it a rooftop bar?” You asked, thinking of the various hotels that had attractions inside.

He chuckled. “No, stop guessing,” he said. You watched him as he drove. It was so…sexy. One of those things that shouldn’t be. Most adults drove. You drove. There was something incredibly hot about watching a man drive one-handed, his other hand on his thigh, and his eyes trained on the idiots in traffic.

Sam made it look powerful and engaging. “I got something on my face?” He asked.

You laughed to cover up your embarrassment at being caught staring. “Yeah, it’s sort of around your mouth,” you said.

Sam patted his face and looked in the rearview mirror. He came to a stop at a red light and checked again. “I don’t see anything,” he said. He looked to you for help and you rolled your lips inwards to keep from laughing.

“Oh…sorry. It’s just your mustache,” you said.

Sam’s face dropped for a split second and then he laughed. “Oh, I see we got jokes,” he said.

On green, he continued forward and you laughed. “You kinda walked into it,” you said.

Sam nodded and poked your leg. “We’ll see who’s laughing more later on tonight,” he said. You poked him in the arm. It was like poking a bag full of quarters. He was deceptively buff.

You joked more as Sam pulled into a parking garage in Georgetown. “The Waterfront?” You asked with an excited squeal. He chuckled at your enthusiasm. “Surprise!”

You laughed as he pulled in and found a parking spot. You both got out and he offered his arm. You shook your head as you placed your hand around it. He guided you to a restaurant you’d never been to before.

“I didn’t know this was here,” you said.

He shrugged. “I know some things. Better stick with me,” he said. He smiled at you and there it was again. That sense of familiarity. As if you could imagine this over and over and never get sick of it. You pulled your gaze away from his. This was something breezy and casual. Unfortunately, that was all you could offer.

The thought of your family dimmed your smile. As wonderful as Sam was, there was no way in hell you were asking him to deal with them. They were your cross to bear. He’d find someone else, someone with less baggage to love on him and hold him.

Acid boiled in your gut at the thought of Sam taking someone else out to dinner. At the thought of their hands on him. It stole your breath, robbed you of any clear thought.

“Hey, where’d you go? You okay?” Sam asked. He nudged you and moved to get out of line. You stopped him. He planned a beautiful evening and you wanted to see it. You wanted to see it with him.

“I’m fine. Promise. Where’d you hear about this place?” You smiled at him but he only frowned.

“If you’re not feeling well, I can take you home. There’s no pressure here,” he said.

You sighed. Damn the man. “Sam, if you don’t buy me dinner, I’ll tell Ariel you were very rude on our date,” you said.

The fake betrayal on his face made you laugh. “You would sic Ariel on me?”

You nodded. “Sure would. In a heartbeat,” you said.

Sam gave you a fake hurt look and approached the host. He had called ahead and made a reservation. The host was a short, spunky dude with greased hair and a practiced fake smile. He waved for a waiter to come by and show you to your seat.

The restaurant was tasteful and warm. It had intimate lighting but it wasn’t so low that you couldn’t see the other person right next to you. The atmosphere was inviting. The waiter led the both of you out onto the patio area with a perfect view of the sunset over the harbor.

“Sam, this is gorgeous!” You furiously whispered to him as he held your seat out. Once you sat down, he took his own seat. The waiter handed you both menus and asked if you wanted anything to drink. Sam took a light beer, his only one as a promise, and you got a glass of wine.

“I wanted tonight to be special. Don’t expect this all the time. This is just to sucker you in,” he said.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Shut up. This is really wild. Did you really plan this?”

“Okay, maybe a little help from my sister. I can’t take all the credit. Can’t let me have one, can you?” He teased.

“Not a one,” you said and laughed.

You talked all throughout the night. Conversation with Sam was so easy. You asked him about growing up in Louisiana and what’s the biggest critter he’d ever seen. You asked him about his parents running the fishing business together and why he joined the military.

He asked you about your family and you told him most of the good stuff. You told him about the shenanigans they got into and what your dad did for a living. As for your mom, well, she primarily worked from home. It was a tiny, white lie that you felt horrible about. Sam was always so honest. But it was too much to dump on someone.

The sun lazily dipped below the horizon beside you. You knew now why he insisted on a jacket. The breeze from the harbor was bitter but enjoyable. He stopped after one beer like he promised. You stopped after two glasses. You didn’t want to get sloppy wine-drunk.

That’d be embarrassing. If he was going to see you wasted, it might as well be on Tequila when you’d really let loose. You wondered what he’d be like drunk. If he ever got drunk.

“I’ve been drunk, I’m not a saint,” he said with a chuckle, as your dinner drew to a close. The food was criminally delicious. Sam told you about an ice cream shop that stayed open late if you were open to dessert later.

You didn’t want the night to end either. So while you waited for the check, Sam sipped on water. “Trust me, we got pretty wild overseas on deployment. There’s nothing to do but fight and try to forget,” he said.

“You saw his mouth turn down at the corners. Sore subject. So you pivoted. “Wild, huh? Like stealing humvees and doing takeovers?”

He laughed so loud that the people around you gave you disapproving looks. Sam apologized and waved to everyone. “You’re gonna get us in trouble!”

“Me!” You waved him off. “I’m not the one who tried to make me snort while I was drinking,” you said.

He raised his hands in surrender and smirked. “I can’t help it if I’m hilarious,” he said.

“As long as your ego is well in hand,” you said.

He shrugged. Damn the man. “To your earlier point, no, we didn’t do takeovers. But we got into stuff. Pranks, teasing, we would play ball with the local kids. It was fun sometimes,” he said.

“Anything to pass the time over there. I know nothing about it, so I can’t speak on it,” you said.

“It’s alright. It was like a fucked up version of summer camp. Except summer never ends so it’s always hot as hell and you’re just trying to survive the day,” he said. “But enough about that. I have to hear about these wild and unchaperoned Vegas trips you took with Ariel.”

You covered your mouth to keep from laughing too loud. The waiter came by, saving you from having to talk. Your shoulders shook with quiet laughter and Sam took the check. He tilted it towards you.

“Not gonna try and reach for the bill?” He asked with a smirk.

“Okay, smartass,” you said. He chuckled and took his card out of his wallet. He signed it and handed it to the waiter. “So…Vegas?”

“You couldn’t pay me to get that information,” you said.

“It must’ve been something freaky,” he said.

You tossed your napkin at him and he caught it with a laugh. The waiter came back and wished you a good night. Sam led you out of the restaurant. “You’re gonna have to roll me out of the car,” you said. You rubbed your belly and Sam laughed.

“I’m stuffed too. Let’s walk it off,” he said. He held his hand out for yours. You took it with a grimace. “You’re not gonna make me into a jogging partner or anything right? I hate running,” you said.

“I promise to keep my jogging to myself,” he said and chuckled. Together, you walked up and down the boardwalk next to the harbor. Lights from the Waterfront stretched out over the water and people milled around you. Conversation flowed well. You learned so much about his childhood and his sister. He lamented the fact that he didn’t get home as often as he wanted to. Counseling wasn’t completely demanding but he also didn’t want to pass it off to someone else.

“I formed a good group of people. I want them to know I’m there,” he said.

“People love you, Sam. They love attending your meetings. But you know that it’s okay to take breaks and vacations right?”

“I know. I left Louisiana and just haven’t looked back. I love it there, but there’s so much world to see, you know? Food to try. Pretty girls to flirt with,” he said.

You rolled your eyes to keep from grinning so hard. “And you’re not even shameless about it,” you said.

“How can I be?” He gave you a pointed look. He winked and opened the door to the ice cream shop. You both got different flavors and took a tiny piece from each other’s cup. You walked back outside. The boardwalk was starting to wind down.

You walked and ate. You were proud that you hadn’t spilled anything on you. Sam was still a ball of energy, talking and telling you more stories. He was full of them. It was like he collected them from every person he met.

As you walked to the car and finished up your ice cream, you gave him a side eye. “So I have to know…Captain America? Really?”

Sam chuckled. “Hey, all I did was jog. He chose a new spot that day and passed me like a million times. No, he's a solid dude. Just…regular,” he said. “Well, regular and he can whup alien ass,” he said and laughed.

“I don’t think it’s easy for him to be in our time. When he went into the ice, we were at war with the Nazis. When he came out of it, suddenly there’s internet and TV shows, and everyone’s got a car. It’s a lot,” Sam said.

You nodded. “I’m glad he has you. Everyone needs a Sam in their life, it’s kind of the requirement if that’s your name,” you said.

“How you figure?” He asked.

“Lord of the Rings, Supernatural, Game of Thrones…” you listed off. Sam stopped walking and stared at you.

“Don’t tell me you’re a nerd,” he said. He made ‘nerd’ sound so dirty. You opened your mouth to argue from here until kingdom come about how awesome being a nerd was before you saw him fighting a smile.

“You get on my nerves!” You said. He laughed and you threw away your ice cream cups. Even after eating that and being out in the harbor, Sam’s hand was warm as he grabbed yours. You smiled and put your head on his shoulder.

“This was amazing, Sam,” you said as you walked to the car.

“I’m very glad,” he said. He put his head next to yours before letting you go and opening the car door for you.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” you said. He shrugged. “I like doing it,” he said.

You slid into the car. Your nerves were shot. You know he didn’t expect anything from you, but you also promised your mom that you wouldn’t be too late. You knew that no amount of coaxing from your siblings would get her to settle down. She would stay up until every member of her flock was at home.

She wasn’t that bad, most nights. But it had been too long since you went on a date. Sam slipped into the car and backed out. “Back to your place, right?”

You smiled. Damn the man. He seemed to pick up on your thoughts as if he could read them. You squinted at him. You can’t actually read my mind, can you?

“If you say my goatee is on my face again, we’re gonna have a problem,” he said and chuckled.

Okay, couldn’t read your mind. You laughed. “My place is good, thank you.”

You talked more on the way back to your place. The itis was starting to hit you and you yawned. Sam chuckled. “Almost there,” he said.

He pulled onto your street. All the carefree fun you had soured in your gut. You didn’t want to return to the hellhole. Some wispy part of you wished Sam would keep driving and kidnap you, take you far, far away.

Fairytales didn’t happen in real life. Even lives filled with gods and aliens. And not for Black girls who had to grow up too fast.

Sam pulled up to the curb. The porch light was on. You were sure your mom was somewhere in the house, listening and waiting for you to open the door. You stared out of the window and mentally rallied your patience.

“Hey, I want you to know that you can always talk to me. It’s not that I demand to know everything up front, but I can tell when you’re holding something back. I’d rather you tell me that you don’t want to share something than feel like you have to hide it or lie to me,” he said.

You smiled at him. “My home life is really insane. I don’t want to get into something deeper if it’ll end up being too much for you. My family will always require more of my focus,” you said.

Sam nodded. “I’m not asking you to choose between me and your family. I’m asking for a chance to decide that for myself. I can’t do that without all of the facts.”

He was right. You knew he was right. It wasn’t fair to keep all of the cards and blame him for not being able to play. “It’s a lot. Can I swear to tell you in chunks?”

“I can work with that. So, that means I get a second date?” He asked and waggled his eyebrows.

“Boy, bye,” you said and chuckled. “But yes. Safe to say I want to go on a second date with you,” you said.

He nodded and got out of the car. He came around and opened the door for you. It was pointless fighting him on it at this point. He was just going to find a sneakier, faster way to do it. While it would be hilarious to see him scurry around the car to open the door for you, it was much easier to let him be a gentleman. And it was lowkey really nice.

You got out and Sam took your hand. He walked you to the door like a proper gentleman. At the door, Sam faced you. “I had a really good time with you. And I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. That’s all I want,” he said.

You stepped closer. “Just shut up and kiss me already,” you said.

Sam chuckled before getting closer and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It was practically chaste. But then he smiled against your lips and kissed you like he meant it. He pressed his lips more firmly against yours.

He licked your bottom lip and you gasped. He slipped his tongue inside and cupped the back of your head. You melted against him and he held you up, taking the kiss from you. You followed his lead as he explored your mouth with his. The kiss felt magical. So magical that your panties grew damp.

You didn’t know how much time passed by before you broke apart, needing air. “Damn,” you said on a sigh.

Sam chuckled. He placed his forehead against yours as he caught his breath. He smelled faintly like the ice cream he had. “I’m gonna be counting the days until I can do that again,” he said.

“Don’t wait too long,” you said.

He chuckled and kissed you again. “You better get in the house before I embarrass myself,” he said.

You chuckled and kissed him one more time for the road. You unlocked the door and went inside with a tiny wave. He nodded. You closed the door and locked it and knocked on the door. He knocked back.

You heard the car door slam shut and then the driver’s side open and shut. The car turned over. You rested your back against the door, grinning like an idiot. You were glad that the house was dark so no one would catch the little dance you did.

As far as first dates went, he knocked it out of the park and you couldn’t wait for the second one.

Masterlist | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

#Megaminds Secret Files #The Secret Sam Wilson Files #Sam Wilson x Black!reader #Sam Wilson x Black reader #Sam Wilson x Fem!reader #Sam Wilson x Fem reader #Sam Wilson x plus size reader #Sam Wilson x reader #Sam Wilson x you #Sam Wilson fanfic #Sam Wilson fan fic #Black writers #Sam Wilson Falcon #Sam Wilson Captain America #marvel smut

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resowrites · 2 years

Text

Hitch - oneshot.

Summary: Henry and his girlfriend hit a bump in the road…

Pairings: AU!Henry Cavill x Girlfriend!OC

Warnings: angst, fluff, relationship difficulties/argument, language, pet names, nondescript OC body type/appearance, brief allusion to smut, hastily written/lightly proofread.

WC: 1630

A/N: Hi folks, still not back in the writing groove but gave it a go and this was the result lol Sorry for deleting the last request, still having a crisis of confidence but I appreciate all interactions (especially as it helps me figure out blog direction). Not sure how often I’ll continue posting atm but feel free to send requests etc. - R x

My work must not be copied, reposted, or translated elsewhere. Likes, follows, reblogs and comments are thoroughly welcome and appreciated! Gifs/pics not my own. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for visiting!

Hitch - oneshot.

"I just want you to tell me why."

"Henry, do you not think if there was another reason, I’d just say so? Especially if it meant not having this conversation again?"

"So you honestly expect me to believe that you won’t get married simply because don't want to?"

"Yes! I said as much not long after we got together, why did you think I’d change my mind?"

"I dunno, I thought maybe you were trying to protect yourself. I know being with someone like me will never be straightforward, but why is marriage an impossibility given how long we've now been together? I've never done anything to make you doubt me or my love for you." She sighed and placed her hands on her hips, struggling to comprehend how watching some dreadful reality show about matchmaking had led to their current discussion.

"Henry, I really can’t have this conversation again. I've told you my reason why and won't keep repeating myself. Goodnight." Henry dashed between her and the living room door.

"Darling please, we need to talk about this. Surely you can appreciate why I’m confused? You won't attend premieres with me, you don’t often travel with me. I respect that you're your own person and want to be out of the spotlight at much as possible, but now I'm worried you don't feel the same way about me anymore."

"Henry, you already know that isn't true. For fuck's sake I take care of everything each and every day don't I? Your house, your personal affairs, even your dog! I live in the middle of nowhere for you, I get abused every day worldwide for you, and I can't even walk down the fucking street without the risk of being photographed - all for you! Why would I do any of that if I didn't love you? I've never wanted your money, connections, or anything else, and yet here you are questioning me!" But her anger only served to rile him up further.

"Well, I wonder why! You sound pretty resentful even though this is our house, our dog, our fucking life! For God’s sake I thought we were past this, what else can I do to prove that you're my priority?"

"I'm not resentful, that's my point! And we didn't choose this house or other aspects of our life together but I'm still here, still dedicated to you. What else do I have to do, to prove that?"

"So that would help? If we moved, chose a house together?" She clasped her forehead, exasperated.

"Ugh, no! I love this house because you chose it, just like I love you. Now let me go to bed." Henry blocked her path once again.

"No, please… I'm just trying to understand. You forget that I know you were engaged before, so is it that? You love me but you were in love with him?"

"Or the experience just confirmed marriage isn't for me. If I'd lost the person I loved most, why would I settle? I'm hardly the type, am I?" He searched her eyes.

"But if it's inconsequential to you why can't we do it? I just want you to be my wife, you know fine well I'll never hurt or leave you!"

"Except I don't! No one can. I don't want marriage because I don’t believe it's a vow anyone can honestly make. You might wake up tomorrow and decide you don't love me anymore, or next week you could meet someone who makes you realise you never did. I'm sorry but having to get divorced just adds insult to injury and I won't do it to myself. I refuse to."

"Oh, darling." Henry tried to move in for a hug but she swiftly raised her hand.

"Stop it. Whether you accept it or not, I continue to be here because I love you, and I'm sorry you think I haven't done enough to make that clear."

"And I'm sorry you think I don't love you as much as you love me." A look flashed briefly across her face.

"When did I say that?!"

"Throughout this entire conversation! So I was right all along, you think I'm just a selfish prick who wants to have his cake and eat it. First it was your father, then your ex, and now me. I'm just the latest in a long line of disappointments, aren't I? What do you want me to do? Give up acting? Will that be a big enough improvement for you?" There was no mistaking the look on her face anymore.

"How dare you. I've always respected what you do--"

“She said sarcastically.”

"Oh whatever, all this really comes down to is you not being able to control me any further than you already do." He stepped back a moment, turning around only halfway when he was ready to speak again.

"You don't really believe that?"

"Either way, I'm never getting married or having children. If that's too much for you then, I suppose... our relationship is already over." Her eyes were distraught and Henry rushed forwards, gripping the sides of her arms.

"No, no. Please, don't say that. I'm not losing you over something like this. Having children is different and besides, I don’t want to share you with anyone else," she felt her heart pinch. "I'm sorry, Okay? I'm just hurt, but I'll get over it. Yes, I'm old-fashioned, I find it hard that you don't let me spoil you, or that we have to take turns paying for holidays. You even have to pay for the upkeep of this place!”

"Yes, because you bought it despite us both living here, why can't I at least contribute?" He finally let her go, sighing as his head dropped down.

"I just want to care of you."

"And you do! Which I'm grateful for and is the reason I do whatever I can to take care of you as well. Marriage gives me the ick, alright? I'm just not lovey-dovey, sue me."

"Bollocks. You spend ages cuddling Kal, cooking for me… do you know you even cuddle up to me at night after you've fallen asleep? I try and stay awake just so--" his voice caught in his throat, "I don't miss it. We don't have to have a wedding, though you seemed to enjoy Mark's and Claire's...”

"I'd enjoy myself at funerals if they had open bars."

"Well, what if something happens to me? I need to make sure everything's taken care of."

"We can go to a solicitor for that." Henry rubbed his jaw.

"What if we make it just us? We don't have to invite anyone other than the witnesses." She pondered the suggestion for a moment.

"How about we have a civil union?" He scowled.

"What, where you don't have to change your title, surname, or even be called my wife?"

"Henry that's my last offer, take it or leave it. For fuck's sake why can't I just be your partner? That's all I've ever wanted to be..." She swallowed back her tears but practically fled the room. Henry just stood with his head in his hands. Neither of them slept well that night.

***

The next couple of days passed uneasily, not that she didn't try her best to make things better. She still didn't want to give in to Henry though, no matter how bad it felt not to. She thought she’d sacrificed enough for them to be together. If she said yes to this, then what would be next? It was as she was curled up on the sofa, letting such thoughts churn over and over in her mind, that he came and sat down beside her. After a couple of minutes, he gently took her hand. "Listen, I've thought about what you said and I think I finally understand. With that in mind, I'd like you to accept these as a promise that we'll belong to each other for as long as possible and as best we can.” He looked at her knowingly while pulling two velvet boxes from his pocket. “I got you the same promise ring as mine as I know you don't like anything sparkly, mine's just wider cos I've got big hands and need it to last. You don't have to be a Mrs or take my surname either, though I know you don’t like yours so I thought maybe you could anyway?" His hopeful eyes were met with the mischief in hers.

"But your surname’s awful as well!" He snorted.

"Fair enough, I know it's a nightmare changing everything by deed poll anyway. We can wear the rings on our right hands if you want, so... what do you think?"

"I'll accept it on one condition," she teased, though the tears in her eyes were plain to see.

"Which is?"

"You get down on one knee." Henry stared at her for a moment in disbelief but soon hurled himself to the floor, grinning as she presented her right hand. He took his time, making sure to slide the band on carefully. Once that was done she grabbed his and as gently as her patience would allow, twisted it over his finger. They beamed at each other before he leaped to his feet, pulling her with him so they could kiss and embrace. His heart felt like it was about to burst. "You know, if I'm not your wife then what will you call me?"

"How about 'wagon?'" She giggled and swatted him on the arm. "What about me?"

"Hmm, let's see... what else begins with 'w?'" He roared with laughter, planted another kiss on her mouth, and swept her up into his arms. She knew they were headed for the stairs before he even turned round.

To be updated on when I post please follow @resowrites and turn on post notifications.

@marytudorbrandon @luclittlepond

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fluff

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mx-ryder · 7 months

Text

Some thoughts on Hazbin Hotel

I literally just watched HH this week, followed by binging Helluva Boss on YouTube right after. And my Dash is full of HH and HB stuff now. And the other day I saw someone posted their thoughts on the show, including one specific take that it falls right back under the typical "Sinners are bad but hey, we can fix them!" sort of trope. (I really don't know if I'll be able to find the post again, if I do, I'll reblog/link it here or something).

And hey, I'm not gonna argue that it doesn't, per se. I just think there's a bit more to it than that.

c.w for general religious trauma talk, SA mentions, drug use/abuse, alcohol use, addiction, gambling, probably other things I'm not thinking of

(Also please don't feel like you have to read this. It's literally just me rambling because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this topic all fucking day, so I wrote it down to get it out of my head. Obviously if you read it and want to comment/continue the discussion, feel free. Just please. Be respectful.)

Now.

All my thoughts on HH are very much colored by my past experiences with religion, US christianity, specifically. More specifically still, the sort of christianity that makes people believe that "home schooling" their kids, isolating and indoctrinating them away from anyone who might make them question it all, is the best course of action. I grew up bouncing from church to church, from home schooling co-op to co-op, all so my bio-mom could find the exact group to echo her own sentiments back at her.

Among the things I grew up believing were great ideas such as:

Sexuality is inherently disgusting, and something you should always be forcing down/avoiding/punishing yourself about. Masturbation, porn, sex before marriage, dressing "immodestly", and any sexuality outside of heterosexual were inherently evil and worthy of punishment. Sometimes that punishment was being assaulted, because really, she should've covered up, right? Girls, sometimes girls as young as 12-13 (if not younger) were villainized for wearing tank-tops and shorts, because they were causing the boys to stumble and immodesty was a moral failing on their part.

Drugs, alcohol, substances in general, are bad and wrong and using them, or heaven forbid becoming addicted, is a moral failing on your part. You are a bad person for consuming a drug, and therefore deserve to fall into addiction, houselessness, starvation, and/or abuse.

Poor people deserve it. Accepting help of any kind is leeching off good, hard-working people. Your worth as a person is directly tied to your ability to be a "productive member of society."

Any mental health issues are your fault, and are either because you don't believe in jesus hard enough, or because you're inherently broken and sinful and therefore unsaveable. There is no room for sympathy or empathy for anyone struggling.

There's a reason these are the same stereotypical archetypes you see in this sort of show. The queer sex-addict. The gambler. The "weirdo" who isn't like other people and enjoys "weird" things, or enjoys things "too much". Even just the party-girl character. Because these aren't just stereotypes. These are actual entire groups of people who are ostracized and vilified just for being who they were born to be, for making choices christians don't like, or for being sick.

And that brings me to Angel Dust. Who, by the way, I wish I could've been given a content warning about, because holy shit Ep 4 and Addict hit me really fucking hard. My friend recommended the show to me without having watched it, so I went in not expecting that sort of storyline to punch me in the gut out of nowhere.

Anyway! Angel Dust! Literally named after a drug. A gay porn star who flirts shamelessly with anyone and everyone, who proudly shows off his best films to his friends, who secretly hates his job, not because of the sex, as we come to find out, but because he's under the thumb of a fucking psycho who treats him like shit and actively physically, sexually, and mentally/emotionally abuses him. He's basically been trafficked, and hates that he doesn't have any say in what happens to him in front of the camera. It's a horrifying position to be in, and one that left me a little shaken up, tbf.

The take I'm mostly writing this based on is that Hazbin Hotel falls into the trite tropes of "rich white girl attempts to fix people who are below her" and specifically mentioned disappointment in how Charlie didn't try to argue that Angel Dust didn't deserve hell based only on his addiction or sexual past, but that she instead claimed that she could "fix him."

And I just . . . think that's a little bit of a black/white take.

For the first part, what would people rather she do? Put all her time, effort, influence, and power into trying her damnedest to help her people, who are being slaughtered by the thousands every year just because Adam is bored? Or sit at home and use all that time, effort, influence, and power to make rubber duckies like her father? She could just ignore everything going on, call it hopeless, give up, and ignore the suffering of her people. Would that be better? Would that satisfy this weird little "she's just a rich white girl with privilege" gripe?

Charlie is a rich girl. A princess. Someone with huge amounts of privilege, power, influence, etc. But you know what? She's also stuck in hell. She was born there, through no fault or choice of her own, and because of who her parents are, she is trapped in literal hell, with no hope of ever, ever ascending to heaven. She does not get a chance at redemption, because she was born to the wrong people. She is a young woman who was born into horrifying circumstances, living in a world that she frequently expresses disgust for (her frequent discomfort with sexuality, her disgust toward the cannibals, her dislike of violence, even necessary self-defense).

And she still loves her people and wants to see the best in them.

She would be completely justified in hating everything about hell, her life, the people around her, her parents, heaven, everything, really. She has every right to hate her entire existence, but she puts all that hatred for the system into her efforts to fucking do something about it. Why is that a bad thing, just because she was born into a position of power and authority??

And now on to Angel Dust.

Charlie never once makes a judgement call about Angel or his habits, his work, or his personality. She expresses discomfort with the sexual nature of his work (tbh wouldn't be surprised if she's a sex-repulsed ace), but she does not think he's a bad person because of his work. Nor does she think that he needs to stop doing his work in order to become a better/good person. When she tries to get him some time off, she's explicitly doing it because she wants him to have time to decompress and participate in activities at the hotel, not because she wants him doing less of his specific kind of work.

She never condemns his partying, either. She has a bar in her hotel! She defends him partying, right to heaven's face, because she knows everyone present has partied, everyone has enjoyed a drink with friends. There is no condemnation of his partying activities, and I don't think she ever makes it seem as though Angel needs fixing.

What I got out of that episode, watching Charlie passionately defending her friend in front of the worst fucking person in the universe, was that people do not need to be fixed, but some love and support can help them make better choices for themselves. Angel still has a good time. He still has his job (contract, y'know, but would probably be in the industry regardless). The only thing different about that particular night of partying is that he's out with people who care about him, and who he cares about.

Even Cherri, though she expresses some joking disappointment that he's spending so much time worrying about Nifty, doesn't actually seem that put out by it. She teases him a little, but leaves him to do his thing. And his thing is making sure his friend, who is less experienced at partying (and who is significantly smaller/more vulnerable than most other people), is safe and okay. His thing is defending his friends from an extremely dangerous person, at massive risk to his own personal safety.

And he didn't do any of this because he'd been "fixed" or because he'd "changed." He did it because, for possibly the first time ever, he has people around him who love and care for him, and who want the best for him. And who he loves and wants the best for in return. He said himself that he stays out of his mind on substances, allows himself to be drugged and assaulted, puts on this persona of care-free-crack-whore-who-only-thinks-about-sex, because he is trying everything in his power to dull the pain he's in. Because he doesn't believe he deserves any better.

And this, this is what Charlie is trying to show Heaven. She is trying to show them that there is nothing morally damning about alcohol consumption, or even drug use, sex work, or anything that makes Angel who he is. She's trying to show them that, with some love, care, and support, with a safe place to call home, with their base physical and emotional needs being met, people don't need to resort to the sort of destructive behavior heaven/Adam is condemning! People can choose to engage in these behaviors safely, consciously, and with people around them who want them to be safe and have a good time.

Then we get on to the idea that this entire episode ends on. Heaven doesn't know how people get there. They don't know what it takes to be "good enough" for heaven. Sera herself admits that Adam was just "the first soul in heaven," all but admitting that he's just there because he defaulted into it. (Though that does make me wonder, what about Abel? He would have died long before Adam, and considering how long Adam lived, and that there were plenty of other people around by the time he would have died, where were all those souls going??).

And Adam is the fucking worst! He is literally the worst, most selfish, violent, vulgar soul in the entire show, but he is allowed in heaven, for reasons no one even understands.

You know what the difference is between Adam and Angel?

Adam can't be fixed.

His behaviors are all destructive, not to himself, but to others. He insults, abuses, hurts, and kills with abandon. He made this weird, shitty deal with Hell and Lucifer because he wanted to murder innocent souls, because he was bored, and the rest of heaven doesn't even know about it. He has free reign to be an absolute piece of shit to everyone around him, damaging people left and right, and he will never face any sort of justice for it, because hey, he's already in heaven!

But Angel? Angel's behavior is all self-destructive. Again. He gets fucked up to dull his immense pain. He allows himself to be drugged and assaulted because he believes he deserves it. Because he's been told, for who knows how many thousands of years, that he's a whore anyway, so why shouldn't he be free to use for anyone who wants to take him? He has been beaten down, physically, emotionally, sexually, until he's a shell of a person who is struggling to find any reason to continue his shitty existence.

And he hurts only himself.

I mean, okay, he does piss off Husk sometimes, crosses boundaries/etc. But he and Husk pretty clearly fix that between themselves. There's no lasting damage there, and idk if anyone else noticed, but he stops that behavior pretty much entirely after that ep.

Angel is hurting. He is hollow, and hopeless, and trapped. And he does not need to be fixed, nor does Charlie ever attempt to do so.

All she does is reach out a hand, and say, "Hey, I see that you're struggling. This place is fucked up, isn't it? Maybe I can help."

Charlie is a flawed person. She takes her privilege for granted. She feels the immense weight of her choices, and the pressure of having taken responsibility for a people who may never want her help. She messes up, because somehow, she's endlessly cheerful and optimistic, despite her upbringing and the world she grew up in.

Charlie is flawed. But she's trying her fucking best. She isn't trying to fix. She's trying to help.

We all need some help, every now and then, don't we?

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kittentwinkles · 3 months

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https://www.gofundme.com/f/ne9gzx-help-them-to-survive?utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet-first-launch&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=customer

Dear Friends,

I hope this message finds you well. I am writing to share an urgent plea for help. Due to the ongoing conflict in Gaza, my family and I have been forced to flee our home and seek refuge in Khan Younis. My mother, who is pregnant, is in critical need of assistance to ensure her safety and the safety of her unborn child.

We are facing severe hardships and are struggling to provide her with the necessary medical care and basic necessities. I have launched a campaign to raise funds for my mother's survival during this perilous time.

Your support in sharing our campaign on social media could make a life-saving difference. Please help us spread the word and gather the support we desperately need.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Sincerely,

Please help us by sharing the post on your page so that we can collect donations and get out of the war. You are our hope. I will be very grateful to you . ❤️🙏🏼

"this fundraiser is vetted by nabulsi, fallahifag, el-shab-hussein, ibtisams, sayruq"

hello laila. i am so sorry that you and your family have to experience such terrible hardships at the hands of israel. i hope that by spreading the word about your campaign, i am able to help you evacuate gaza and get to safety as soon as possible. ❤️

to anyone who sees this post on their dash, please donate to laila's gofundme if you are able to. if you aren't, reblog this post so that it can reach more people who might be able to help. i know that if we all band together, we can get laila and her family to a safe place where they can live their lives in peace.

from th river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

#gaza #palestine #free palestine #free gaza #all eyes on palestine #all eyes on gaza #all eyes on rafah #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #🇵🇸

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transmisogyny-explained · 1 year

Note

I really appreciate your blog because I've been getting so much insight from it as a TME trans man who is mostly around other TME people (kinda just by happenstance, although I'm always open to trans female/transfem friends).

Anyway. You reblogged a post talking about why some trans women can seem a little prickly towards TME people, which reminded me of when I met a group of trans women IRL once at an event for trans people (most of them happened to be trans women, but all trans people were invited), and one of the women I approached and talked to most that night did seem a bit uneasy/cautious/maybe even a bit standoffish around me at first. I sort of understood at the time that "oh yeah it's probably bc I'm TME" and I've never let it get to me, ofc. I just didn't quite understand how deep that feeling towards me likely went. How much pain was attached to it.

She warmed up a good bit to me eventually, though, and we even hugged before I left. And I just thought when reading that post and a couple others you reblogged, "That woman I met that night, in her 30s, going out with her other trans female/transfem friends to have fun...she had been through a lot. She's going through a lot as I type this. She will go through much more...of course she was nervous around me. So many trans men just Don't Get It, and some don't WANT to get it...and she's suffering because of it. She and all of her friends...why would anyone want that? Especially another trans person?"

And it made me sad. It made me upset that trans women have to be on guard so much because they never know, even in space they belong in, just which TME person is going to decide they don't belong. And, just as importantly, who is going to side with that TME person to make sure she and women like her are kicked out for good...

I don't mean for this to be an "oh I'm such a good person, I would NEVER do that" type spiel. Because I'm not a good person JUST because I care about and accept trans women. It's something everyone should do by default.

I just wanted to relay this story and attach my face to it because 1). Going on anon would make this feel so much less genuine to me. Like I'm more concerned about receiving backlash from transphobes than I am about showing people I care. And I'm not.

2). I know a lot of trans women are frustrated with and scared about the lack of support from trans men. And when I remembered that story and that woman I met that night, I thought maybe if I told it and explained how I felt, that maybe I could give some kind of hope and reassurance that there are trans men who do care and do want to support their trans woman/transfem sisters/siblings.

And 3). I wanted to assure trans women making posts about their experiences with transmisogyny that their posts are reaching more than just people who also experience transmisogyny, as well as unfortunately bigots who don't believe them/don't care/perpetuate transmisogyny on purpose. I'm listening. My friends are listening. I promise we care.

I honestly don't know if this will help anyone or if this is tone deaf at all. And I'm telling you in particular because your blog is where I saw the posts, and your blog has taught me so much, and I really appreciate it. I hope it was okay to send this to you.

But yeah. Thank you for reading all this and I'm so sorry if this sounds like some random needy guy trying to win favors or praise. And no one has to believe me or say anything positive about me or what I said. I promise I don't feel like I need to be rewarded for being an ally to trans women or anything. Again, I was just wanting to tell this story to maybe prove that there are TME people who are listening. I know how stubborn and downright awful some of us can be when we're told we're being transmisogynistic. I'd imagine it's beyond frustrating.

On that note; I'm happy to see you on my dash again! Just please take care of yourself when you need to. It's okay to take breaks, or even a hiatus. Your mental health is so much more important than managing a blog. The work you do is good and important, but you deserve to have time to recover from the negativity you receive. Even if you one day have to abandon this blog for your health, you made a positive impact while you were here! I support and care about you! Thank you for being here and being you💜

I don’t think it’s tone deaf. Personally, I like hearing that my efforts haven’t been for nothing, so thanks for sharing.

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shibonzakura · 1 year

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ZoTash Fanfic OPLA fanmade version. Chapter 1

Under the cut to avoid cluttering the dash. PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG UNLESS YOU ASK ME FIRST.

It's Raining Somewhere Else

"Says a man who failed to get himself out of a hole on the first try". It's raining like the sky itself is weeping for a bond lost and this wasn't supposed to happen. On the opposite sides of the battlefield. One a pirate hunter turned pirate and the other a face from the past turned into a mere copycat marine.

They had met on the marine's day off. An unlucky coincidence. Star crossed in the worse sense. Could had been friends. Might had sailed as hunters of the unjust. Things don't always work out however. Some can never follow their dreams. They told his captain that all the time.

"What matters is that I got out. You wouldn't have lasted even one second in there glasses. And stop saying what she would had said!".

She probably would had gotten out on the first try thanks to the pure undulated rage that the marine was seething towards the pirate hunter. The only kind you could find in only a few men or women in her case. Kuina never was this vindictive but that's a given. Zoro himself never really did mock or belittle her like the marine in front of him. The pirate hunter blames her profession as being the soldiers of cruelty. A weak paper thin thing to make an excuse upon. Really? Stooping this low? Her pettiness was rubbing off on him and Zoro hates it.

"Me? Taking on a personality of others? You lying cad!! How dare you accuse me of stealing things. Pirate! I'm my own person, now and until I face my end at the sharp edge of a blade!"

Veins visible on his forehead appear on their own in a comical fashion, like they responded too honestly from his emotions that were spiking in intensity. Okay that did it. No more mister nice guy. Time to finish this fight once and for all. Her skill of drawing her blade much faster than himself was impressive but it was no match for his more experience in more brutal of fights. The marine's blade, which his captain had called 'Skiing' like the Straw Hat teen had also called his own sword 'something Itchy something Monkey' falls from her hand and onto the soaked ground below.

"Your loss. Now get out of here before I change my mind. Never show your face to me again Copycat".

Although, she can't really get away as he keeps her stuck between himself and the wall as the others in her squad look on in awe, like they are seeing something more risqué than just a battle being over. There's the scent of the faint smell of cherry blossoms coming off from the marine. Plus, the familiar one of steel that both have because of the ways of the samurai both had taken at an early age. Tashigi focuses on the closeness of the pirate hunter's earrings, finding more courage to say the line that might change them forever.

"Like I will you filthy liar! Cheater. If you feel that way, finish me. I don't deserve this blade or my life. Kill me and just get on with it.".

Those words. Spoken so long ago by Zoro himself to Kuina. Why is the marine parroting his words too now? It hurts his head and the pirate hunter doesn't want anything to do with this annoying woman who helped him not get the Wado Ichimonji sold for a cheap price to that crook in the sword shop. The way she smiled like a child on Christmas on holding it in her hands with loving care unlike the unworthy ones who just saw a tool to cut rather than someone's soul and chattering away about her interesting hobby of loving blades. Zoro even remembers the way his heart thumped in his chest when the pirate hunter saw the woman for the first time.

And no, it's not because she looked like Kuina. She was pretty in a traditional sort of way despite her awful taste in blouses. He's not sure how to feel about that, her. Any of this. Even her sword that she carried was, how did someone put it into words….cute? Gah! This is stupid. Luffy needed him right this second. No time for distractions. Can't, won't. Not on his dreams or in them. That one time when he got roped in with her schemes of getting him a job by working for the marines and moping the floors with three of them in hand because of said oxymoron situation, didn't happen. Nope. Not gonna remember that. Focus!

"No. You look too much like the one I made a promise to all those years ago. A friend who died. I can't do this, I won't do this and I am wasting time". It's simple and he leaves, letting the marine defend for herself, not looking back. Zoro has said too much. Not even his crew knew about his past. Sure he had a friend, however, Zoro didn't say who that was in passing. But unlike with Kuina, this woman doesn't let sleeping sharks lie. Oh no. This was quite the opposite.

The fury is not quelled, it's only ignited into the flames of hatred, shame, and vengeance. To chase the pirate hunter turned pirate to the ends of the earth. As the green haired swordsman runs away to help his captain, the words to meet again as bitter enemies to something more escape the lips of the defeat scorned not taken seriously woman with the bespectacled face says,

"I, Dracule Tashigi, promise to fight, train and kick your butt for as long as I live. Roronoa Zoro".

Somewhere in the distant Grand Line, a small miniscule sneeze can be heard, waking a man from his peaceful and relaxing slumber. Someone was talking about his last name, but who? The last person who dared say the words 'Dracule' was a mockery of the way of the sword. Estranged.

Someone who was only a memory. Before anyone called him the greatest swordsman. Only a babe when Gol D. Roger was executed. The one who foolishly believed his lie about the swords crying out and collecting them so that they would leave him alone for the day. Reason why he joined the warlords in the first place as marines had used blackmail of the worse kind on someone as powerful as him. A disgusting weakness.

"So you are still alive. The Grace with still no Power. My foolish stubborn daughter. Living in my shadow since forevermore. Tashigi".

#long post cw #tashigi is mihawk's daughter theory #zotash #zoro x tashigi #zotash cw #SERE's cringe writing #do not reblog unless you ask me first

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brooklynislandgirl · 9 months

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Roleplaying Profile Meme:

PLEASE REPOST, DO NOT REBLOG! Feel free to add to any of your answers! The purpose is to tell your partners about the way you write! For the multiple-choice ones, BOLD all that apply and, if you want, italicize if it’s a conditional answer!

– B A S I C S –

NAME : Turtle, Turtlemun, Turtlemama, and some call me...D.

ARE YOU OVER 18? Yes / No

IS YOUR MUSE? Yes / No

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU WRITE WITH ON THIS BLOG? No (anyone) / Semi / Yes / Highly / Private

ARE YOU SELECTIVE ABOUT WHO YOU FOLLOW ON THIS BLOG? No (anyone) / Semi / Yes / Highly / private

IF YOUR MUSE IS CANON, HOW MUCH TO YOU ADHERE TO CANON? Not at all / A little / Somewhat / Mostly / Strictly / OC {although if my partner is a canon character, I will ask where in the canon our rp falls, and I will stick to YOUR canon/personal canon as much as possible}

WHAT POST LENGTHS DO YOU WRITE? One Liners / Single-Para / Multi-Para / Novella

DO YOU USE ICONS AND/OR GIFS? No / Gifs /Icons/ Gifcons

DO YOU WRITE ON OTHER PLATFORMS? No / Yes {{I will write on discord if I am comfortable enough with my partner}}

WHAT LEVEL OF PLOTS DO YOU WRITE? Unplotted / Open-Ended Plots / Semi-Plotted / Fully Plotted Epics

HOW QUICKLY DO YOU USUALLY RESPOND TO THREADS? I am a Turtle /Slow / Fast / Very Fast {{depends on my time/availability/level of capability that day, but my speed or lack thereof should never be taken as an indication of my desire to write with you, or be used to doubt my love for you, your muse, and our stories.}}

WHAT TYPES OF THEMES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add!) Fluff / Angst / Smut / Action / Tragedy / Domestic / Family / Conversational / Hurt-Comfort / Fantasy / Dark

WHAT GENRES DO YOU LIKE? (feel free to add!) Fantasy / Supernatural / Science Fiction / Historical / Horror / Comedy / Romance / Drama / Action / Adventure / Espionage / Everything

ARE THERE ANY THEMES YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WRITING ON YOUR BLOG? No / Yes {{Beth and I both generally loathe child abuse in any shape or form, and mentions of it are fine, but if your muse deliberately harms a child in front of us, please expect to be reacted to in the most honest way possible}}

DO YOU HAVE ANY TRIGGERS? HOW DO YOU REQUEST IT TAGGED? No/ Yes {{I try to tag everything properly with Whatever Trigger tw, though specifically I use Here Brucie|Sharks and Lost In Translation || N F S W for those two subjects. I have a fear of spiders so a spider tw would be nice, though I am never going to be so freaked out that it will drive me away from the dash or your blog}}

– S H I P P I N G –

WHAT TYPES OF RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic /Familial / Physical / Sexual / Enemies (Aaaaall the relationship types)

WHAT TYPES OF PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS ARE YOU OPEN TO? Romantic / Platonic / Familial / Physical / Sexual

DO YOU HAVE OTPS? No / Chemistry only /Yes

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION? - Heterosexual / Heteroflexible / Bisexual / Homoflexible / Homosexual / Pansexual / Demisexual / Asexual / Questioning {{Beth is demisexual. She doesn't experience sexual attraction until she feels deeply connected to someone. And even then, she isn't likely to act on it. She says she is heteroflexible because most of her attractions have been toward males/masculine folk, though in play she has had 2 attractions toward women, and 1 towards a bi-gendered person {leaning toward xer feminine presentation} and of course she would never be prejudice toward non-human/human-like individuals}}

WHAT IS YOUR MUSE’S ROMANTIC ORIENTATION? - Heteroromantic / Heteroflexible / Biromantic / Homoflexible / Homoromantic / Panromantic / Demiromantic / Grayromantic / Aromantic / Polyamorous / Questioning {{The best fitting attraction I could find for Beth is Quoiromantic. Meaning Beth doesn't understand/differentiate really distinguish levels of emotion. To her, love is love and the only difference is an abrupt and often confusing layer of personal rules that she just doesn't get. Which makes relationships complicated. I'm sorry.}}

ARE YOU COMFORTABLE WRITING SMUT? No / Selectively / Yes

ARE YOU AN EXCLUSIVE SHIPPER? No / Sometimes / Yes {{I don't force ships. The only expectation I have to to be allowed to let a relationship grow organically and allow it to be what it is. Sometimes she'll friend or family zone a person. Sometimes she will have a squish or legitimate feelings for someone who doesn't feel the same way. Sometimes you have to get out the squirt bottle and spray her in the face because she's so in love. But I promise it should never be an issue. If it is, please tell me and I will put a muzzle on her.}}

DOES CRACK SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No /Sometimes / Yes {{Maybe? I don't know what this is?}}

DOES CROSSOVER SHIPPING EVER HAPPEN? No / Yes/ Depends

#Absolutely True Stories About Turtle

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fizzyxcustard · 2 years

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Wrong Place Wrong Time - Part 2 - Chapter 1

The masterlist to the first part can be found here

Summary: You find yourself in 1209AD after a science experiment has gone wrong, and you are now making a new life in a small village in France. However, Sir Raymond de Merville has his eye on you and will not take no for an answer. You both embark on a passionate love affair which leads to Raymond’s downfall.

With Raymond dead, you find your way back to 2017. Now heavily pregnant with Raymond's child, things take a strange turn and you find out that Raymond's promise to come back to you as crossed many centuries.

Fandom: Pilgrimage (2017)

Pairings: Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual references, violence, bad language, sexual language.

Comments/Notes: This fic is being re-uploaded. It was originally written on Tumblr for my old blog and then put on to AO3, so I'm now trying to put all outstanding fics from AO3 on to here.

As always, if you like the story, please consider a reblog. My tag list is always open to people who wish to be added. Send me a message and let me know. :)

England, 2017

Your stomach felt heavy, and not just because you were seven and a half months pregnant, but because you had just asked a question you never even imagined you’d ever in your life ask. What are the procedures for putting a child up for adoption? What would Raymond think of you? But how could you live like this? You were constantly living a life of darkness because your light, Raymond, had been taken from you.

Your senior management at work had been trying to bribe you with money to shut you up over the events which had unfolded; you’d been dragged into non-stop meetings. An accident in the research facility of a local science lab where you worked as an assistant technician, had sent you hurtling through time to 1209AD, landing you in France. The life you had begun making, resulting in you marrying the love of your life and becoming pregnant, had all come to a cataclysmic end when your husband was killed. Then the team you worked alongside had been able to pull you back into your proper time in history.

You stared at the image of your unborn child, in whites and greys upon the ultrasound screen next to you. Its small heartbeat loud in the room as the midwife turned up the volume. “She’s strong.”

“She?” you asked, tears in your eyes.

The midwife put the machinery away and wiped the cold gel from your swollen stomach. “I don’t want to interfere too much,” she began, reminding you so much of Lucille back in France. The midwife was young, blonde and very beautiful. “But, where’s the father? You never mention him and when I asked you on your first scan, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. There’s obviously something really hurtful behind what happened, and I just wanted to make sure that adoption is the right thing for this baby.”

You couldn’t help but break down into tears. You shoved your head back on the bed and exhaled through the tears. “There’s so much to this story,” you said. “And I’m not proud of some of my actions, so do I really want to bring a child up knowing the things I’ve done?” Every night flashes of the bodies of Raymond’s father and the mute would haunt you. Murdering those men had brought you some initial satisfaction, but now all you felt was overwhelming shame and guilt. “I was married and my husband died…” The tears came faster down your cheeks, and you dashed to the door, unable to stand this anymore. The midwife chased after you and put her arm around you.

“We can get you support if you need it,” she told you kindly. “Please don’t think that you’ll just give birth to this baby and that’s it.”

“I lost my husband, the only man I’ve ever truly loved. And I have to live with the memories through this baby, knowing I’ll never get him back.”

Instead of going home after your scan, you walked aimlessly through town, watching people pass you by. Evening was closing in quite sharply now, the dusk wrapping around you. Never even knowing why, you looked at the doorway of a local pub, set off the street, and approached it.

You walked into the pub, hearing men cheering at the sports channel which was playing on a TV above the bar. A couple of men raised their eyebrows at you, seeing your obvious pregnancy and wondering why you had decided to venture into a public house.

“Can I have a pint of coke, please?” you asked the barman, an overweight, balding fellow with reddened cheeks.

“Course, love. That’s two pounds fifty, please,” he asked, and began pouring the drink from off the tap.

You stayed in the bar for a while, looking at the print out of your ultrasound scan. Your index finger traced the outline of your daughter’s head and then down her arms which were stretched upwards.

I can’t give you up. How selfish would I be for giving away the one last physical thing I have left of Raymond? The pain will never go away, but I have to try and cope each day and watch you grow up and be happy.

You went on to order a plate of food, but as you waited for your meal, you picked up the cocktails list. A cocktail list in a bar like this? Very fancy an attempt at being up market.

“Should you really be looking at those in your fragile state?” a voice came. Shivers raced down your spine. That voice! It was so familiar; so deep with its velvet baritone edge, but one thing was missing from it: a French accent.

You choked on your drink as the man looked at you, the man who belonged to that eerily familiar voice. His icy blue eyes, his long nose, slim lips, almost black hair…it was Raymond. You said his name, feeling your whole inner being explode in shock and joy. Your Raymond was alive.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I think you’ve got me mixed up with somebody else. I’m Richard, not Raymond.” He gave you a sad smile, probably pitying you for your sudden outburst of complete insanity. Were you hallucinating and willing him to be there? You panicked, feeling your breath escape you, and it made you gag.

You dashed for the second time that day, unable to face what was right in front of you. “You alright, love?” the barman called as he scrubbed up some of the pint glasses.

Richard watched on. Why had she called him Raymond? That was what he was called in his dreams. Raymond de Melville, de Meerville….something like that. The splintered pieces of his dreams haunted him by day. He never saw a woman’s face but he dreamed of being on his knees, kissing his wife’s stomach and promising to come back. Come back from where? For weeks now and he had dreamed of a woman, never seeing her face but hearing her voice, kissing her stomach which held a new life they had created…and then that day he just happened to bump into a pregnant woman who called him Raymond. Richard had never been superstitious or spiritual, but something about this situation was pulling at him.

You pressed your back against the wall, watching a few children play on a bouncy castle in the beer garden. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You looked to your left and saw Richard. He was Raymond, you were sure of it. His whole face was your husband’s, only minus the purple scar at his temple next to his eye.

“I’m insane, let’s face it!” you hissed under your breath. “I thought you were someone else and you aren’t.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked.

Why would he ask such a question as that? You looked up at him, and you could see questions in his eyes. You knew Raymond’s expressions, every single one of them. The times you had analysed his face, studying the crinkles at his eyes when he laughed, watching his lips moisten ever so slightly whenever you were vocally teasing him, and the contentment in his ice blue depths whenever you curled up together at night. More than that and you remembered the expression of whenever he was unsure, confused or questioning. When you had initially rejected his wedding proposal, and the confusion made his eyebrows furrow and he looked down at the ground, that initial reaction of not knowing what to do. And in this instance you could see he did not know what to do.

“Do you know something?” you asked him. For the first time you looked properly into his eyes, focusing on him. It was Raymond. You felt the draw to him, the spirals of enticement racing through you. This was your husband. In some miracle he had come back to you. You didn’t care how, just the fact he had.

Richard felt attraction, an invisible force which was wrapping around his insides and pulling him towards you. But you were a heavily pregnant woman, obviously someone else’s girlfriend or wife. “I don’t know anything, but you seem to know something. Tell me,” he insisted. The forceful side to your husband was beginning to show, just like when you first met. He had expected you to explain yourself first before he even attempted to give away any snippets of insight about himself.

“I’m fucking insane,” you growled, noticing people who were sat outside with their children begin to watch you suspiciously.

You looked at your Raymond again and felt your daughter kick hard. She obviously knew as well that this was her father. As if on cue, Richard spoke again, “Who’s the father?” He looked down at your bump, his eyes seeming to remain there for longer than most people’s.

Such a strange question for someone who had only just met you. How in the world could you answer with ‘you’?

“He died,” you whispered. “He got sent away and died fighting.”

“As in deployed with the forces?” Richard asked.

“You could say that, yeah.”

“Look, I know this is all weird and everything, but would you like a lift home?” Richard asked kindly. Of course he was a complete stranger through your rational thinking, but he was also your husband. What a contradiction. There was no way you could miss this opportunity. On impulse you politely agreed to his offer.

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @i-did-not-mean-to @middleearthpixie @luna-xial @linasofia @meganlpie @xxbyimm @guardianofrivendell @knitastically @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @msjava1972 @eunoiaastralwings @spidergirla5 @sunflwrnsunnieshine @tschrist1

#Richard Armitage #Raymond de Merville #Raymond de Merville x You #Raymond de Merville x Reader #Raymond de Merville x Fem!Reader #Time Travel #Modern setting #Pilgrimage

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