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tsu-kitty · 3 months

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𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻 𝓂𝓎 𝒽𝓮𝓇𝓸 ❦︎ 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓉𝓌𝓸

♡ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 › 1.5k

♡ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 › tsukishima x reader, fem!reader, tall!reader cause she's a middle blocker, reader is a nervous clutz with a fat crush on tsuki. kinda slowburn-ish. very fluffy.

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 › you're a clumsy middle blocker and tsukishima is a coordinated middle blocker who seems to always be there to save you. after quite literally running into tsukishima (again), your pre-existing crush starts to grow even bigger.

♡ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 › second part, woohoo! lowkey can be read as a stand alone, but part one provides a bit more context.

“Time really flies, doesn’t it?” Yachi said as the two of you walked down the stairs on the way out of school. As a reward for completing the first day, the two of you were going to treat yourselves to ice cream. “I can’t believe we’re already second years!”

“It’s crazy, right?” you agreed. “Are you going to stay on as the boy’s manager?”

“Yes! I had an anxious nightmare about it last night. All the rivals teams were after me. It was so scary.”

You laughed at her story.

“But I’m still going to do it. I promised Kiyoko, and I can’t let her down.” She pumped her fist in the air.

“You’re so funny, Ya—ah!” Your heart dropped to your stomach. Misjudging how close you were to the landing, your foot missed a step and suddenly you were falling. Your arms flew up to shield your face, your eyes squeezed shut, bracing for the impact of the solid ground. Why you? Why on your first day of second year? Did you not pray hard enough at the shrine this morning? Were the gods unsatified with your offering?

The sensation of hitting the floor never came, though. Instead, the sensation was warm and oddly soft and smelled like fresh lemon laundry detergent, though there was a hint of vanilla tucked beneath it. Peaking one eye open, you were horrified to find Tsukishima was the person who had caught you. Not again.

Off to the side, Yamaguchi (who had been walking up the stairs with Tsukishima) cheered. “Wow, Tsuki! Awesome reflexes!”

Tsukishima ignored him, choosing to address you instead, a shadow of a smirk on his lips. “Please don’t make a habit out of this.”

You died a little on the inside, cringing at the fact that he remembered a year ago when you crash into him on the first day of school. Heat was creeping up your neck. Had he gotten more handsome over the spring break? Or was the shock of the fall making you delusional? No, you’d always thought Tsukishima was cute. Although now, maybe handsome was a better way to describe him. He was taller, his shoulders broader and his jaw more defined. His hair was longer, long enough to curl at the nape of his neck and behind his ears. A few stray waves poked out from the top of his head. When he wasn’t sneering or glaring, he looked almost angelic. It was all over for you…

Regaining your footing, you pulled out of his grip and bowed your head. “I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again.”

Too flustered to wait for a reply, you grabbed Yachi’s hand and took off down the stairs, taking extra care as you hopped down the steps. You didn’t stop until you were out of the building, where you immediately threw yourself again the wall and slid down to the dirt, hands covering your red face.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Yachi shrieked, dropping down to fret over you. “Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts.”

“My pride,” you mumbled from behind your hands.

“Oh gosh, that’s serious! We have to get you to the nurse! Wait… your pride?”

You nodded.

Yachi paused. “I’m confused.”

“He’s so pretty,” you whispered. “Has he always been this pretty?”

“Say again? I didn’t catch that.”

“Yachi,” you whined, lowering your hands. “I think I have a crush on Tsukishima.”

“WHAT?”

“Chance ball!”

Watching Tsukishima play didn’t help your situation at all. His play style fascinated you. The way his eyes followed the ball, narrowing ever so slightly in concentration. And the way his lips quirked up when he successfully shut down a spike had you weak in the knees.

“Follow up! Tanaka!”

This early morning scrimmage between the girl’s and boy’s volleyball teams was a lot tougher than you had expected. Logically, you knew the boy’s were good—they had made it to Nationals after all—but considering two of their previous starters had graduated, you’d figured they’d have a few growing pains. This was only somewhat true, however. Whilst their receiving ability relied heavily on the libero and only one of them had a particularly strong serve, their blocks and spikes were deadly.

“Now!” Suzuki called.

Following her lead, you leaped into the air, arms flying up to block the spike. Meeting the height of Tanaka’s block was hardly a concern considering you measured almost the same as him. His strength, on the other hand, sent an icy fear through your veins. Yachi had mentioned something about Tanaka working out a lot recently. Something to do with living up to the ace name.

Arms straight, arms strong, don’t let him through.

The ball catapulted through the air, aiming slightly left of your block. Reflexes kicking in, you shifted your hand. You couldn’t let it through untouched. Slowing the momentum by a fraction of a second was better than nothing.

Smack!

“Ngh,” you grunted, a pang of pain slithering from your fingers up to your shoulder. You don’t stop, though. “One touch!”

It wasn’t until the boys had you beaten two sets to one and cleaning began did you notice the tingling in your right pinky. Comparing it to the other, it was definitely a little swollen. Not a lot, but enough to make you wonder if you should see the school nurse. If it still didn’t feel okay by lunch, you would see her, you decided. No need to overreact, it was probably just sore from when you blocked Tanaka’s spike. His hitting power was really something else.

Hours later, when the jingled of the lunch bell filled the halls, your pinky was still tingling. Inspecting it’s appearance in comparison to the other again as you walked, you concluded that it wasn’t anymore swollen then the morning. Still, it’d be best—

You hit a hard body. Again? Really? The force of the collision bounced you back, but a hand hooked around your elbow before gravity could yank you to the ground.

“Pardon me,” you said, bowing at the waist. “Sorry for running into you.”

“I thought you said this wouldn’t happen again.”

Kill me now. You straightened. “Tsukishima.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “So, are you vision impaired or just an airhead?”

“No,” you pouted, avoiding his eyes in the hopes your cheeks would stop boiling. “I’m just… clumsy, I guess.”

“I see.” He tilted his head curiously. “So where are you going that requires you to not look at your surroundings?”

It was impressive how he managed to turn every statement and question into some form of insult or quip.

“I was going to the nurse,” you told him. “I hurt my finger this morning playing against you all.”

Glancing down at the hand you were nursing against your chest, Tsukishima’s brow furrowed. “It looks fine.”

“I know, but I was going to ask the nurse to tape it, just to be safe.”

He gave you judgemental look. “Are you saying you don’t know how to do it yourself?”

Face burning, you shook your head.

“Tch, what kind of middle blocker doesn’t know how to tape their fingers?”

“The me kind, it seems,” you mumbled.

“Come with me, I’ll teach you,” he said, walking away before the thought of protesting could even cross your mind.

You followed obediently as he lead you into his classroom and towards his desk where he told you to sit. Taking a seat at the desk in front of his, he dug through his book bag. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why, but being in Tskuishima’s class room and sitting at his desk felt oddly intimate. Maybe it was the simple fact that these things were associated with him and all his sour-attituded, smart-mouthed, angel-faced attitude. Oh, you so had a crush on him.

Tsukishima secured the roll of white tape. “Hand out.”

Heart skipping multiple beats, you layed the hand with the sore finger out, skin tingling with anticipation.

Tsukishima ripped two long strips of tape from the roll. Flipping your hand palm-up, he held your pink against your ring finger with a gentle pressure and started taping. Your heart wanted to jump out of your chest. His hands were so strong and warm, slightly calloused from volleyball, and his fingers were long and slender.

“So you wrap one strip around the base of your fingers,” he said. “And one at the top. Then you wrap them all the way around from the bottom to the top.” He picked up the roll again, circling it around your hand as he mummified your fingers. “It’s so easy, Hinata could do it.”

You knew just enough about the infamous Hinata to find the snide remark funny. “Thank you for teaching me, Tsukishima. I appreciate it.”

“It’s fine,” he replied, tearing the roll off and tucking it back in his bag. “Just don’t forget how to do it, airhead.” He stood up, lightly brushing his hand over your head as he walked away, completely unaware of the effect he had on you.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima kei x reader #haikyu #haikyuu x fem!reader #tsukishima x fem!reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction

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yanderes-galore · 4 months

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IM HERE AGAIN!! Anyways, can you do Yuji with your prompts 23 and 37 with a reader who keeps trying to escape?

I can try, sure! Doing an AU where you knew each other in Jujutsu High but once you graduated and grew older you went on to become advanced Sorcerers. It's unknown if Yuji still has Sukuna or not. Sorry if the plot isn't to your liking, I didn't have a lot to work with since Yuji is so tame on his own.

Yandere! Yuji Itadori Prompts 23 + 37

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away."

"We should get married! It's been long enough, hasn't it?"

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Kidnapping, Delusional behavior, Manipulation, Stalking, Isolation, Talks of marriage, Toxic themes, Clingy behavior, Slight starvation (You're choosing not to eat a lot), Implied mind break, Yuji is delusional yet a little lucid, Consensual turned forced relationship.

Yuji Itadori has been your boyfriend since graduation. He had been hopelessly in love with you ever since you two started to dedicate yourselves more to your field and each other. Life's been good in your eyes, especially since Yuji has only ever been getting better when handling himself.

So how did things get so bad?

Nowadays instead of being a happy couple, you're trapped in your apartment. Yuji was adamant when you both graduated to move in together. You both shared the rent and took care of one another.

You didn't mind that...

Until Yuji kept trying to keep you in the apartment.

You wonder what went wrong. Yuji always seemed like such a kind and innocent boyfriend. Always easily excited and clingy with you. It was cute.

You wonder if things began to go wrong when Yuji had brought up marriage.

You still remember when he first brought up the question. You had been dating for around five years when he bounded up to you with a grin on his face. Before you could even ask him what he was so eager about, he held both of your hands tightly.

"We should get married! It's been long enough, hasn't it?"

It was cute how excited he sounded when he brought it up. In fact, if you were ready for it you might've even considered it. He looked so happy.

However, as a new graduate, you were too focused on improving as a Sorcerer to consider marriage with your high school sweetheart. Curses still ran rampant even after graduation. So at the time, you were focused on your career.

"I'm sorry, baby..." You had said, your heart nearly breaking at the look of betrayal on your boyfriend's face. "It just doesn't seem safe right now... we both have a career to keep up with."

"R-Right... I understand!" Yuji has responded with a saddened smile, embracing you tightly.

Back then... you thought that was that.

You wanted to consider marriage in the future. You two had been together for a long time now. Although... you just wanted to focus on more important things right now.

However... now six years in... you begin to wonder if you should've just... accepted or called off the relationship entirely.

"Baby..." Yuji frowns softly, looking at you on the bed. In only a year you looked so much different than the graduate you once were. You looked tired and much thinner now. Yuji had been feeding you, but you just... didn't want any food from him.

"Baby, please look at me..." Yuji tries again, inching closer to sit on the bed. He feels guilt creep into him when he sees you curled in on yourself. Part of him knew this was his fault... but hated the idea of acknowledging it.

Recently you've been escaping the apartment a lot. It had started with arguments, you wanting to continue being a Sorcerer while Yuji wanted you to stay at home so he could protect you. But... every couple has their quarrels, no?

That is until Yuji felt he should be more strict. He begged you not to leave, that he was worried about you and wanted you to stay home. At first, you complied and stayed home a few days to soothe your boyfriend's worries.

Then he stopped letting you out.

Each time you left the apartment by sabotaging locks or playing nice, Yuji would chase you down again. For months you kept trying to leave, both the relationship and apartment. Yet Yuji never relented.

In his eyes you are meant to be together...

Delusional just enough to ignore how you feel about the situation.

Right up until you were curled up in your room, refusing to leave because, well, why bother?

Yuji perks up when he sees your body shudder. A breathy noise akin to a sob leaves your mouth, making Yuji's heart clench. He acts fast, throwing himself on the bed and holding out his arms.

"You're crying... come a little closer, I'll make it all go away." Yuji's words are comforting, as though you're both still loving partners. His embrace feels hot and cagey against your skin. However, you lean in reluctantly.

Did you love him even now?

Yuji is careful to be caring despite all that's happened. He kisses the top of your head lovingly as you sob against him. Hearing you sad makes his grip tighten... a glare thrown towards the wall as he thinks to himself.

He hopes you get better, he really does. He wants to make you his cute little spouse that he can take care of. Although, Yuji is willing to wait until you're feeling... better before bringing it up again.

"Love you so much it hurts...." Yuji murmurs, squeezing you affectionately as he nuzzles into your hair. You say nothing, which is expected, you did recently go against his house rules again.

But... that's okay! Yuji is aware of how determined you are. He just... needs to be patient and protect you like he always has been.

You may be upset now... yet he knows that will change. With a little more waiting... you two can be happy again! When another sob rocks your body, Yuji just holds you tighter... oblivious to how crushing his embrace is.

Partners must stick by one another, right?

He'll stick by you until you're better... then you two can go back to normal and maybe even get engaged!

He's already picked out the ring....

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere yuji #yandere yuji itadori

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scoupsahoy · 27 days

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i wanna talk about The Ship War going on right now in the 911 fandom (largely on tiktok and twitter) and i'm not a bnf especially in this fandom (and i wouldn't want to be) but i'm kind of hoping people on both sides are willing to read this post anyway because i cannot be the only one completely turned off by it

i finished writing this so i wanna clarify: this is officially aimed at buddie shippers (i am one of you) because i genuinely want to have meaningful discussion and also i'm not exactly defending tommy here. but! i think if bucktommy shippers were interested in reading, there is stuff in here for you too

i have to split this up into sections which is annoying but i won't be able to make any sense without sections so. sorry

1. pre-tommy buddie shipping

so like a lot of people i knew about 911 and buddie entirely through tumblr osmosis, and there was a general attitude of confidence: buddie WILL become canon. if it doesn't... something something. i don't really know the season 6 finale was hard for a lot of you. and after watching, i do really understand why. but.

from an outside perspective, this fandom attitude was nothing like i'd ever really experienced before. i stopped watching supernatural around season 11, several years before gaycas, when confirmed bisexual dean was genuinely outside the realm of possibility.

i was a tjlc believer. i was an episode 4 conspiracist. i have been delusional about gays on my television screen before. so i was really apprehensive at the way buddie fans were moving. not only was buddie GOING to happen, but if it didn't it would be a failure of the network and the showrunners and the actors and it could have been the greatest love story ever told and shipping was not ENOUGH. it had to be canon in order to matter. shipping anything else was fruitless and offensive. this was what i was seeing. and i was like. well there's no way that's going to happen

and then season 7 started airing and there was this reignited hope

and then 7x4 aired.

2. the birth of bucktommy

so i started watching 911 after 7x4 aired. a lot of people did. i'll be honest i did genuinely think that eddie was out and gay and i was like "oh shit is it finally happening??" and then i realized it was some other guy and spend like 4 straight days tumblr deepdiving into it

like i said i was almost exclusively following buddie shippers so my consensus was like. buck and tommy are cute but it's obviously (TO ME) a steppingstone for buddie. after watching the entire show i do still feel that way.

here's the thing though: shipping isn't about what is going to be canon. i'm a marvel fan. my first fandom was fucking icarly, okay, my track record of shipping non-canon couples that actually end up together starts and ends with nbc sitcoms and even then barely. shipping to me is about character analysis and smooshing barbie dolls together with my friends. shipping to me is putting some guy in a blender and another guy performing frankenstein experiments on them

it doesn't matter to me actually that a ship isn't going to end up together, even if i like them. i'm not saying some bucktommy fans don't overstep certain boundaries (that i'll get into) but a FAIR BIT of them know this. a fair bit of them were buddie shippers and a fair bit of them still are. and there's a reason theyre put off

3. social media discourse

the first real piece of morality discourse came from tiktok. i won't namedrop this creator but if you're on tiktok you know who i'm talking about.

this person started the tiktok talking about something that i genuinely do agree with: fans who love tommy but hated all of buck's ex girlfriends should probably perform some self-reflection on the very real misogyny problem in 911 fandom and fandom in general. this i am 1000% behind. a call-in of sorts: hey guys! check yourselves! it is really easy to fall into misogyny especially with gay shipping. though i will argue that buddie shippers could stand to do the same thing (looking at you, people who write fanfic where ana flores is ableist for no reason)

they went on, however, to say that bucktommy shippers Must only like bucktommy because they are a gay ship, And Also Therefore, these people Must Be gay fetishists, as the only reason you would like bucktommy over buddie is because you just want to see men make out with each other. You People don't like gay shipping in the Correct way that i do, you like to gay ship in a nasty fetish way (only slightly exaggerating). you saw that buck and tommy kissed online and you watched the entire show just to watch men make out with each other which is Bad And Wrong.

aside from the fact that this person also literally started watching the show after 7x4 aired (and like i said so did a lot of people. one would think this is a morally neutral thing to do), this struck a nerve with me. this take (which was repeated ad nauseam by everyone in their circle) is just plainly irresponsible.

it is inappropriate to suggest that someone is like. morally reprehensible for *checking my notes* shipping a canon television couple. is tim minear a gay fetishist for writing the bucktommy kiss? is the average viewer a gay fetishist for going "oh i didn't see that coming! they seem like a nice couple"? is my mom a gay fetishist? are you calling my mom a gay fetishist??

this is an argument that i've seen happen in a billion different ways over the past decade and a half of being in fandom spaces by the way. are women allowed to read gay fanfiction? what about gay porn? what if they get off to it? are they allowed to write it themselves? what if they're not straight? what if they're not women? was casey mcquiston fetishizing gay men when they wrote red white and royal blue? is the romance genre allowed to exist with gay men and straight women in it? do you have to check everyone's gender or sexual identity at the login page for ao3 and tumblr dot com to determine if it is morally okay for them to participate in fandom at all?

and then there was the comparisons between bucktommy and buddie fic stat breakdowns: bucktommy's are writing more smut And That's Bad and buddie fans are writing stories with plot And That's Good.

it. is. irresponsible. it is oversimplifying. it is judgmental and above all else it is irrelevant. people could like bucktommy because they think they're hot or because they think theyre interesting or because buck realized he was bisexual or because they think tommy has potential as a character. it is a ship. creating a dichotomy where one ship is the morally good thing to ship and one ship is the morally bad thing to ship is irresponsible and not in the spirit of fandom.

morality and purity conversations in fandom are like. an entirely different can of worms to talk about and this is going to be long enough already. but bucktommy shippers shot back with the same energy:

if you don't like bucktommy then you are homophobic because tommy is gay

i did see quite a bit of this argument because a number of people that id been following did get into bucktommy and i do still follow and like these people

i covered most of my feelings about this type of argument above but to reiterate: it is possible to like different ships without making it a morality competition. it's disingenuous and annoying.

especially that brief stint where people were saying that the bucktommy shipname was a slur against gay men. you can just not like it. you can just not like it and have it end there. it's an ugly shipname but you don't have to make it a moral issue.

especially because then buddie shippers pulled out the trump card:

4. the tommy problem

because these people just watched the entire show in like four weeks (again, neutral statement, i did the same fucking thing) they remember tommy from hen and chimney begins. and. okay

i'm not about to be taken out of context here. i watched bp's video when it came out, i think what was said was wrong, i'm not about to say that being racist was like. cool or excusable 20 years ago. i think there is a discussion to be had here about this though. there's a reason i'm typing this out carefully:

i want to say firstly that there IS a conversation to be had about the social landscape in 2005 and especially pre-obama america for the purposes of a bunch of 20 years olds who were not alive or fully conscious yet. people told casually racist jokes (casual in that they are told casually without intent for violence, not that they are not violent. all racism is violence) and there were fewer social ramifications for those racist jokes in 2005. that does not make them Magically Not Racist. they were. it was not okay. it was, however, Extremely Common. does that make it okay? no.

i'm saying that largely because it seems to ME that tim or whoever wrote that particular episode wrote that joke to paint a picture of where the characters are in the story. chimney is not under bobby. he is not being treated with respect. he is 15 years in the past (from when the episode aired. whatever) it is different. it wasn't supposed to matter who said it

(it did matter and it does matter that it's tommy who said it by the way. because that's like. the universe of the show)

(though my theory - and i'm just being stupid for a sec indulge me it's 3am - is that tim and ryan both LOVE writing in guys named tommy. seriously i've been rewatching glee and when i watched 911 i noticed this too that there are so many characters that we never even meet named tommy. abby's ex for one. my theory is that tim wanted to bring in some guy named tommy for buck's awakening and he realized he already had one. lol.)

SECONDLY. sorry that was longwinded. secondly, i am a person who believes that people are capable of change. 20 years is a long time to grow. even as an adult. again, this does not excuse racism, but it is important anyway.

this is all theoretical but i want you to walk with me: it is possible for a 20-30 year old closeted gay white man with a homophobic captain pre-obama to pick up and not experience consequences for inappropriate comments and casual racism and even be seeking out a parent-like validation from someone who encourages it AND THEN, after 20 years wherein he realizes he's gay, comes out of the closet, i believe it is POSSIBLE for him to unpack his internalized racism, apologize, and grow as a person

obviously these are fictional characters but it is important to my fucking philosophy of life that people are capable of change and having empathy or understanding that in fictional characters is so fucking baseline.

it is important that we as a society can agree that someone's behavior, ideology, and/or biases can change. that like. that just HAS to be possible.

caveat #1 that does not mean that any people of color who are fans of the show have to like tommy or even forgive him (or even like. hen and chim lmao it's kind of clear to me that at least hen doesn't) and i am not going to tell them to

caveat #2 i also understand that there is no explicit acknowledgment of this on screen (i think this is because tim forgot which i find funny but like i said. it still matters that it's tommy regardless of intent) and because of that there technically is nothing To forgive

ALL OF THAT TAKEN INTO ACCOUNT.

even if we are assuming that tommy has learned nothing and has not changed at all. the leap from "tommy is/was racist" to "shipping bucktommy or finding tommy interesting Makes You Racist" is heinous to me.

sometimes people like characters who are shitty people. some of you like tony stark. sorry

it's ridiculous to me because there are plenty of other reasons to dislike bucktommy that doesn't like. vilify random people on the internet. he's not even framed as a particularly good boyfriend! we don't even know if they're boyfriends, for one thing!

i've been complaining about buddie shippers for this entire time but i literally am one of you and that's what pisses me off. you threw the first blow in the morality competition and you are bigger - and you KNOW you are bigger because you are proud of the fact - and you are winning.

you are right about a lot of it: tommy isn't a good guy. there is an active racism problem in this fandom. there is a misogyny problem in this fandom. but by and large buddie shippers have been in the game longer and have much larger followings and there is nasty shit i'm seeing which brings me to

5. social media discourse 2 electric boogaloo: twitter edition

twitter is a cesspool in the best of times but i have seen some shit in the past two weeks that makes me never want to write fanfiction for this fandom or even interact with most of the fans ever again. and i'm serious

there is a big buddie fanfic writer who is like. beloved. if you read buddie fanfiction you've read their work for sure. they started writing bucktommy and buddietommy fics around april. and people are being so nasty about them on twitter it is actually fucking embarrassing.

AND LIKE. god. fandom etiquette is so simple.

when i first started reading buddie fanfic the first thing i noticed was how many fics are locked. and i was like "i wonder why that is"

just look at these tweets. i have kept the author's handle here uncensored but please be normal do not bother this person. i'm sure their ao3 comments are hell enough already

what the fuck is your people's problem i'm serious

i'm like actually appalled. this is embarrassing. this isn't even the most embarrassing thing i've seen buddie stans do recently and it is NOT uncommon. it is not small accounts. you guys are the majority. these tweets have hundreds of likes.

i don't give a shit what this person was writing. i actually don't care. their fics are locked. they write for free.

to take someone's fic outside ao3 is considered bad fandom etiquette. to talk about an author where they don't have an account is generally considered bad fandom etiquette. to complain about fanfiction openly is bad fandom etiquette. i don't care if this is y'all's first fandom. in what world are you going to take to twitter and openly complain about someone writing fanfiction for a ship you don't like.

if i were them i would delete all of the buddie fics or never write buddie again i'm so serious. this is so ridiculous.

and this is sort of the nail in the coffin for me, seeing this tweet the other day:

this tweet has over a thousand likes

this is a larger fandom issue as of recent with the use of like. mental health terms as insults but it actually fucking disgusts me!

i looked at mark's twitter. it's pretty clear to me that he's a troll/having fun/provoking people on purpose but on TOP of that his tweets get at most 35 likes. i checked and this tweet got 21 likes. and over a thousand likes calling him schizophrenic. 24 replies doubling down. 25 retweets. 47 quote tweets. 62 bookmarks. over a thousand likes.

and buddie shippers are the good guys

it is ridiculous to me that as a fandom buddie shippers have created a space where it is impossible to have a meaningful discussion about fandom misogyny, racism, of homophobia because everyone who disagrees with you is morally opposed to you, and yet it is this side of the fandom with enough traction and support to openly bully and mock these people that you have decided are morally reprehensible.

6. in conclusion i'm sorry i know no one read this

fandom in general post-covid has become less of a community based in sharing creativity and the love of something (and i know this intimately as a kpop stan lol). online spaces in general have become something i don't recognize or want to participate in. which sucks. i've been here for a long time.

i know there's not really any way for that group of like 5 or so tiktokers that complain about tommy ad nauseam to see this or even take it seriously. i know there's not any way for those people on twitter to magically understand fandom etiquette or just block the people they don't want to see.

everyone would be happier if they just. blocked and moved on. i know i would. and i have! in a lot of cases. there's a reason i blocked out the names on those tweets (note: i blocked mark's twitter handle. the person who screenshotted it so he wouldn't be notified and then called them schizophrenic did not. because they do not care) because it's not about THEM it's about the whole fucking thing.

and a lot of these people want to be mad. it's why they're so hung up on tommy. like i'm sorry if any bucktommy fan is still reading this but GOD TOMMY HAS BEEN ON SCREEN FOR LIKE TEN MINUTES TOTAL IN THE ENTIRE SHOW. HE DOESN'T EVEN MATTER. JUST ADMIT THIS IS ABOUT A SHIP WAR. IT ISN'T ABOUT HOW GOOD OF A PERSON YOU ARE OR ANYONE IS. IT'S JUST A SHIP WAR. and they want to be miserable. they want to sit in their little echochamber of morally upright big name fans and they want to provoke bucktommy fans into saying something shitty and they love it because they don't really fucking care about the show.

you know how i know? because tommy is the least important part of chimney begins. that is in the best 3 episodes of this entire television show and none of y'all have anything to say about it. because you're just as obsessed with tommy as they are.

#hellaciously long sorry but i think. it's actually important. i really really want people to read this because i want feedback seriously #911 abc #911 #911 fox #911 fandom #buddie #bucktommy #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #tommy kinard

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twyftwyt · 7 months

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this is going to be a long one, so prepare yourselves, cause I need to get some stuff off my chest

All that’s wrong in the BO fandom and with BO themselves:

1. Proper media training - I think none of the boys in the band, aside from Noah, have proper media training and it shows in interviews. I feel like, with them growing so big over the last year, they need to take some proper time and do that, so we can save each other the little awkward moments where interviewers ask weird questions or make even weirder statements and the guys just sit there looking a little lost.

2. Their crew needs to chill (at times) - Now I understand that every fandom has got their crazies, it’s a part of the lore, but come on! I’ve seen not once or twice, crew members being mean towards the fandom, calling us dumb and whatnot. If I see something I don’t like or find weird/stupid/pointless/delusional, I might share it with my friends, but I won’t go around posting about it on my story/twitter. There are people in this fandom that go overboard and need to be shown the door, but when you show disrespect to one, you show disrespect to all and that, I feel, needs to be stated somewhere. Matt is unnecessarily mean sometimes and so are Steven and other crew members. I feel like if I were in their position, I’d probably want to call out people on their shit too, but no need to do it ALL THE TIME.

3. The band is too closed off - And don’t get me wrong here, I understand and respect boundaries, but it sounds and feels a little contradictory when the lead singer of the band says in an interview that he feels closer to some of the artists he listens to, because he’s read their life story. The irony in that is massive. When you deny fans of little things like posts here and there, sharing a little something personal (example: Dove Cameron, Halsey, Thirty Seconds to Mars are all artists that make and write their own music and I’ve heard at least one story from each of them on how a personal event inspired said song). So when you deny fans of little things like that, you get obsessive people who try ro dig up your personal life, just to feel a bit more connected to your music. Everything can be regulated, I feel, if done and said right.

4. They all (the band and crew) need to collectively accept the fact that the band’s becoming massive, which means that they will attract all kinds of fans. Fans that will be there only for Noah. Fans that will be there only for TikTok hits like “Just Pretend” and whatnot. And they’d benefit so much more from those people if they just knew how to use everything to their advantage. Now one little comment from the crew sets the whole fandom ablaze. They’re not a small town band supporting bigger acts on tour anymore.

ok, I’ll stop yapping now and remember, this is just my opinion, you don’t have to agree with it and you also don’t have to argue with me on it ✌🏻

#noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #nicholas ruffilo #nick folio #jolly karlsson

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allfoolsinluv · 2 years

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Closer

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: You and Joel grow closer after you arrive in Boston.

Word Count: 5.4k

Rating: Explicit, 18+. Minors DNI.

Warnings: canon-typical violence/death, assault, lil bit of angst, lowkey pining, getting together, fwb-to-lovers, soft!Joel Miller, alcohol consumption and drug use, explicit sex (fingering, unprotected p-in-v, f receiving oral, lil bit of consenual somno, dom/sub vibes, dom!Joel, sub!reader, teasing, rough sex, spit play, come play, dirty talk like WHOA, soft aftercare, i thiiiiiiink that's it idk i might have missed something bc there is A LOT here ok)

A/N: ok so i saw this gifset and the last gif took me OUT then I heard Closer by Nine Inch Nails on tik tok and my inner whore took over and she wrote this. The chokehold this man has on me is REAL and MIGHTY. anywho my first pedro boy fic! huge huge HUGE shoutout & thank u to @pedrito-friskito for looking this over for me 🥺💗 luv u bby

masterlist

Things between you and Joel had started out simple enough.

You’d met him not long after you’d arrived in Boston, during your first shift disposing of infected bodies. He kept to himself, not interacting with you beyond a curt nod of acknowledgment when you introduced yourself at the beginning of the day. But you hadn’t missed the way his eyes stayed on you throughout your shared shift. His gaze was curious, almost, like he was studying you. You hadn’t blamed him for it, even though he did kind of make you feel like a bug under a microscope; you were a newcomer, and newcomers often meant trouble. He hadn’t seemed like the type of guy that took too kindly to trouble.

The next few shifts you’d spent beside him went much like the first. He’d barely speak to you—if he even spoke at all—and kept an eye on you as you worked. As your time in Boston went on and as you continued to work more shifts with him, the intensity he watched you with seemed to lessen. For whatever reason, Joel Miller decided you weren’t a threat.

He’d warmed up to you after that, as much as it was possible for him to warm up to anybody. He would no longer ignore your greetings, offering you gruff heys and hellos. He’d sit with you in silence whenever you were allowed to take a break from working. He'd even started to walk you home after your shifts. When you'd asked him why the first time it happened, he'd told you that your apartment was on his way home. You wouldn’t have called yourselves friends, per se, but you both were definitely more agreeable with each other than you were with anybody else in Boston.

He was with you the first time you saw a public execution take place in the city center. One of your neighbors had been caught outside past curfew one too many times, an offense she would pay for with her life. You hadn’t known her very well, but hearing her name be called out and watching her life end before your very eyes was enough to break something in you. You’d been delusional to think that things on the inside were going to be any better than they were on the outside.

Joel watched you watching your neighbor hang, taking note of the way your eyes widened and your breath drew short at the sight. When her body stopped flailing and the life had finally been drained from her, he placed a rough hand on your shoulder. When you startled at the contact and turned to look at him, he nodded his head in the direction of your apartments.

“Come on,” he’d said. You’d simply nodded in response, following him out of the crowd and away from your dead neighbor.

The two of you walked side-by-side in silence, not much different than when he’d walk you home any other day. When you got to your apartment building, though, he didn’t stop like he normally did. He kept walking until he realized you were no longer next to him.

“You coming or what?” he asked, head cocked and a hand on his hip. You’d looked between him and your building in confusion.

“This is my apartment.”

“Yeah,” he said as he approached you once again. “But we’re making a stop at mine first. Got something for you.”

The thought of Joel Miller having something for you sent a flurry of nerves and butterflies swirling in your stomach. It’d been so long since you had any kind of companionship, it was nice to be thought of by someone else. You tried not to let your emotions show as you nodded your head.

“Okay, then. Lead the way.”

You weren’t sure what to expect when Joel had told you he had something for you, but whiskey and some pills weren’t it. Not that you were going to complain about them, though—it’d been too long since you’d had or done anything to turn your brain off. He didn’t say anything as he poured each of you a glass and put a pill in your hand. You’d swallowed the pill and the whiskey in one go. Joel poured you another glass without question.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while, side-by-side on his couch as you drank. The whiskey had burned as it went down your throat and settled into your stomach. It felt good.

After you’d polished off your third glass, you put the cup on the table in front of you with a heavy sigh. You sunk back into the couch and closed your eyes, saying softly, “This place is a fucking nightmare.”

The feeling of Joel’s hand on your thigh made your eyes pop open. You’d looked down at his hand on your leg, your breath hitching at the sight. When you looked up, you found him already looking at you, the pain in his eyes evident. “It is.”

You fucked for the first time on his couch that day. The whiskey and the pill and the vulnerability had loosened you both up enough to just let go. He’d pulled you into his lap, shoved his hand into your jeans, and made you come on his fingers before he pulled your pants down your legs and fucked every thought out of your head.

When it was over, after he’d made you come again and pulled out to finish in his fist, you’d climbed off of him and sat back, catching your breath. He’d cleaned his hand off and silently reached over to help you pull your jeans back into place. He’d stood from the couch and held out a hand to pull you up. It went without saying that he’d walk you home.

It went on like that for a while. Whenever things became too much for either of you or the thoughts in your heads got too loud, you’d find each other and drown out the noise with whiskey, pills, and sex. It was far from romantic—you never stayed long after it was over, it was never soft or sweet, he’d never even kissed you —but it didn’t need to be. There was no place for romance in the world you lived in.

Things changed, though, the day you were jumped and nearly left for dead on the street.

It’d been one of the rare days in which you worked a shift without Joel, the availability of jobs just not lining up to pair the two of you together. You were cutting it close to curfew, the sun steadily setting as you made your way back to your apartment. You were only a couple of blocks away from home when it happened.

You hadn’t noticed you were being followed until it was too late. Large, rough hands grabbed your body and pulled you roughly into an alleyway. You tried to push the guy off, swinging your elbow back into his gut, kicking your feet out to throw him off balance. It was no use, though—he threw you to the ground, hard, as if you’d weighed nothing to him.

You hit the ground with a huff, the shock and pain of it dulling your reflexes enough to allow him to get on top of you before you could pull yourself up and scramble away. You finally saw his face, the light gone from his eyes as he gripped the lapels of your jacket and shook you.

“Give me your ration cards, bitch,” he seethed at you. You didn’t even know this guy and here he was, shaking you down as if you owed him something.

“Fuck you,” you spat in his face.

He hadn’t taken too kindly to your disrespect, letting go of one side of your jacket to punch you in the face. The feeling of his knuckles connecting with the skin of your cheek and taste of blood on your tongue made you groan. He’d pulled his arm back to throw another punch, but before his fist even had the chance to come into contact with you again, the weight of his body was thrown off of you.

When you’d looked up at the scene unfolding in front of you, the last person you’d expected to see was Joel. There he was, on top of your attacker just like he’d been on top of you, delivering blow after blow to his face. You’d never seen him like that before, lost to the violence, although you’d known he was capable of it. It didn’t scare you like you might’ve thought it would. It was almost comforting, in a way, to know what he’d be willing to do to protect you.

Just when you’d begun to think that Joel wouldn’t stop until the man was dead, he’d grabbed him by the collar and brought him close to his face. “If I ever see you around her again, you’re a dead man. You understand me?”

Weakly, the man had nodded his head, a wet cough bubbling out of his throat. Joel released him roughly as the man spit up blood onto the asphalt below him. He turned to you, the fury leaving his eyes in an instant as he took in your disheveled state.

“Fuck,” he grumbled, rushing over to help you up. You stood with a wince, grateful he was letting you rest most of your weight against him as he held you and guided you out of the alleyway. “Need to get you off the streets before curfew.”

He guided you to your apartment, getting you both inside and locking the door behind you with just a few minutes to spare. You plopped down onto the couch with a groan while Joel grabbed your bottle of whiskey and the only rag you had to clean up your busted lip and the cut on your cheek. It was silent as he worked, save for the initial hiss of pain you’d let out when the alcohol first touched your open wounds. He was gentle with you, gentler than you thought him capable of.

When he finished, he dropped the rag onto the ground and cupped your face in both of his hands. The two of you had stared at each other for a long moment before he’d sighed, leaning forward to place his forehead on yours. Your eyes had fluttered shut as you felt his breath fan out against your face, your hands coming up to take ahold of his wrists.

“I should have been with you,” he whispered roughly. You shook your head at that, opening your eyes to find his screwed tightly shut. He kept talking, “I was outside your door, waitin’ for you to get back, but when you didn’t show up, I knew something was wrong. I should have just fucking been there to walk you home, to keep you safe.” Your hands moved up his arms to the back of his neck, your fingers tangling lightly in the curls of his hair.

“You were, Joel,” you whispered back, his eyes opening to meet yours, seeing the sincerity in them. “You saved me. Protected me. You were there when I needed you.”

He kissed you, then. He pulled you in close to him, softly pressing his lips to yours, mindful of the cut there. Your eyes had closed again, and you couldn’t have stopped the soft whimper you let out at the feeling of his lips against yours even if you had tried.

Sex with him was different that night. He carried you to your bed and stripped you slowly, taking in the sight of your body underneath him. He hadn’t been rough or hard or fast. It was soft and almost syrupy sweet, the way he held you and made you come apart with his fingers and his cock. His lips never strayed too far from yours, as if the thought of not kissing you while he fucked you was too painful to bear. You hadn’t minded it, though—you’d felt the same way.

When it was over, he cleaned you up and helped you re-dress. After he put his own clothes back on, he crawled back into your bed and pulled you into his arms, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head as you slowly drifted to sleep with your head against his chest. As you fell asleep, you knew in the back of your mind that things between the two of you would never be the same come morning time.

You became his and he became yours.

Nearly eight months had passed since that night. Now, you’ve abandoned your apartment for someone else to take over, having moved all of your meager belongings into Joel’s place. You spent most of your little free time there anyways, and he felt more at ease knowing that you were coming home to him, instead of by yourself.

It’s a rare day in which neither of you were able to pick up a shift, all of the work slots for the day having been filled before either of you had gotten a chance to sign up for something. Not that either of you mind it, though—sometimes it’s nice to have a day off to spend together.

Joel, apparently, has been planning on making the most of your day off. He wakes you up with his tongue between your thighs and his hands holding your hips down on the ratty mattress. You come quickly, nearly reaching your peak while still half asleep, and the force of your orgasm hitting you fully wakes you up. He places soft kisses to the insides of your trembling thighs, looking up at you with an almost boyish glint in his eyes as you huff out a soft laugh.

“Well, good morning to you, Mr. Miller,” you say with a smile, one of your hands drifting down to cup his cheek.

He grins at you—a rare sight these days—as he turns his head to place a wet kiss to the inside of your palm. “Mornin’. Nice wake-up call?”

“The best,” you giggle, moving your hand up into his hair and giving it a tug. He groans at the feeling, his eyes going a little glassy. “Now come up here and kiss me.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. He moves up your body, placing soft nips and kisses to your skin over the thin t-shirt you’re wearing. When he reaches your mouth, you kisses you fully and deeply, wasting no time in letting his tongue trace your bottom lip. You open up to him eagerly, moaning into him at the feeling of his tongue against yours.

He kisses you until you can’t breathe, only pulling away when you tug harshly on his hair. A thin string of saliva connects your lips to his, and he watches with rapt attention as your tongue pokes out to wipe it away. When his eyes finally flick back up to reach yours, you hit him with a playfully questioning glare.

“How’d you get my pants off without waking me up, anyways?”

He grins at you again as he grinds his own denim-clad hips down against yours, the rough material catching against your clit just right to pull a soft, needy moan from your lips. Joel bends down to kiss you again, laughing softly when you chase his lips as he pulls away.

“I have my ways, darlin’.” He plucks at your shirt and asks, “Can I take the rest of it off now?”

With a nod, you lift your arms above your head, allowing him to pull the fabric from your body. Once your shirt is off and on the floor, Joel moves to unclasp your bra, but you playfully swat at his hand and shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you gotta take somethin’ off first. You’re wearing too many clothes.”

Joel rolls his eyes at you but complies with your request, deftly unbuttoning his shirt and pushing both his jeans and his underwear off. You can’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, gloriously naked in front of you. His cock is hard and flushed red, a pearl of pre-come beading at the tip. You sit up on the bed, preparing to lean forward and take him into your mouth, the thought of tasting him practically making you drool. He stops you though, pushing lightly on your shoulder until you’re laying back down, allowing him to crawl over you once more.

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, mocking your earlier tone. “Now who’s wearing too many clothes?”

You huff and quickly remove your bra, throwing it to the ground with the rest of your discard clothes. Once you’re finally fully naked, you try to reach out and take him in your hand. He’s faster than you though, taking both of your wrists in one of his and pinning them above your head.

He bends down to nudge your nose with his, angling your mouth just right for him to kiss you. It’s so sensual, the way he easily slips his tongue into your mouth and takes your breath for his own. You could kiss him for hours. He pulls away and starts to pepper soft kisses across your cheek and down your jaw, until his lips reach your ear.

“I’ll give you what you want later, baby, I promise. I’ll put my cock in your pretty little mouth and let you suck your fill,” he rasps into your ear, the roughness of his whisper and the promise of his words sending a shiver down your spine and whimper out of your mouth. “But that’s not what I want right now. D’ya wanna know what I want?”

He sits up to look at you, his pupils blown wide as he takes in your trembling figure. You let out a soft yes as you nod your head.

“Right now, I wanna feel your pussy come all over my fingers. Then, when you’re nice and wet and fuckin’ gagging for it, I’m gonna slide my cock inside of you, real slow, and fuck you until you cry. When you just can’t take anymore, I wanna pull out and come all over your pretty tits. Can I do that to you, darlin’? Will you let me?”

You’re uncomfortably wet, can feel your slick practically leaking out of you and sliding down to wet the sheet underneath you. The arousal his words have stirred up in your belly is nearly unbearable, and you almost headbutt him with the force in which you nod your head.

“Fuck, yes, Joel, you can. You can do it all, whatever you want.”

He chuckles at you and leans down to kiss you again, quick and dirty. “Barely even touched you, and you’ve already gone cockdumb. My needy girl.” His eyes flick up to where he’s still holding your hands above your head. “If I let you go, are you gonna behave?”

“I’ll be good, Joel, promise,” you say quickly.

He nods once and lets go of your wrists, looking pointedly at you to make sure you keep them there. Once he’s sure you’re not going to try and get ahead of yourself, he lets himself touch you. His rough hands drag down your arms and to your ribcage, his thumbs lightly stroking your skin. He slides his palms up to cup both of your breasts, his thumbs now working over your nipples in light strokes. The moan that you let out would have embarassed you if you weren’t so turned on. You start to squirm as Joel gets a little bit rougher with you, but you obey his silent command to keep your hands where they are.

You almost grab at him when he leans down to take the hardened bud of one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling sloppily around it while he rolls and pinches the other between his fingers. You catch yourself at the last second, though, stopping yourself from winding your fingers into his hair.

Joel lets go of your nipple with a lewd pop and kisses his way back up to your mouth while his hands slides down your body. He takes your bottom lip in between his teeth at the same time he cups your pussy, sliding his middle finger through your wet folds. He chuckles darkly at the way your hips buck against him and how you struggle to keep your hands where he told you.

“Messy girl,” he murmurs against your cheek, pecking you there. “Let’s see if I can make an ever bigger mess a’ya.”

“Fuck,” you gasp as he easily slides two of his fingers inside of you. Your cunt clenches at the feeling of him working you open, his fingers move in slow, even strokes.

“Feels good, don’t it, honey?” Joel teases. “You like the way I fuck you with my fingers?”

You whimper in response, nodding your head weakly. He angles his hand to rub against the spot that nearly knocks the breath from you, his palm grinding against your clit. Your back arches off the bed with a hoarse shout of Joel’s name. He groans against your skin at the way you tighten around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Joel, please,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in time with his fingers. He uses his free hand to push you back down against the bed, keeping you from moving further. Joel leans down to nuzzle your throat, nipping lightly at the delicate skin there. He looks up at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

“Please what? Use your words for me, honey.”

You can’t help the whine of frustration you let out as you squeeze your eyes shut. It’s hard for you to find words when he’s fucking you so well with his fingers.

Joel slows his fingers nearly to a stop and your eyes pop back open in a panic. His face is stern as you rush to say, “Wait, no, no, no, please, don’t stop, I—”

“Use. Your. Words. What do you need?”

You take a deep breath and nod your head. “Can I touch you? Please? I promise I’ll be good, I just… I wanna feel you.”

Joel smiles at you now, leaning down to place a quick kiss to your lips. “Hands in my hair, honey. Keep ‘em there, understand?”

He doesn’t need to tell you twice. As soon as the words have left his lips, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him down to kiss you again. It’s filthy, all tongues and teeth. Joel starts to move his fingers inside of you again, gradually picking up the pace until he’s back to his original speed. You moan into his mouth, your brows furrowed in pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm building in your core, the coil winding tighter and tighter as Joel’s fingers work inside of you. Joel pulls away from your lips, letting you guide him to rest forehead against yours. It’s a struggle to keep your eyes open, but you force yourself to, wanting to watch the way he watches you. He looks almost as far gone as you feel.

“I can tell you’re close,” Joel rasps. “Your pussy’s squeezing my fingers. Can’t wait to feel you do that around my cock. You gonna come for me, sweet thing?”

He starts to move his fingers a little faster, rubbing against you a little bit harder. The extra friction tears a sob from your throat. You can’t help the way a few tears well up in your eyes, the pleasure Joel is giving you bordering on overwhelming. Your orgasm is so close, your body tightening against him while your thighs starts to shake from the sensation. You nod your head, a whispering chant of yeses falling from your lips.

“Go on then, baby. Come for me.”

Joel's words send you over the edge, coming hard around his fingers and pulling almost painfully at his hair. Your moans are obscenely loud, and if you had any wits left about you, you’d be embarrassed by your volume. But you don’t and you’re not. The only thing you care about in this moment is the feeling of Joel’s fingers working you through an earth-shattering orgasm, the pleasure flowing all throughout your body. You don’t even notice the tears that have fallen from your eyes until Joel’s kissed them away.

You whimper as Joel slowly pulls his fingers from you once your body has settled back down and your breathing has returned to normal. You release the grip you have on his hair, letting your hands drift down the sides of his neck to curl around his shoulders. He holds his hand up for you to see, his fingers wet with you. You watch, mesmerized, as he spreads his fingers, your slick webbing between them.

"Look at what a pretty mess you made of my hand," he murmurs as his eyes move from his fingers to you. "Better clean it up, yeah?"

Silently, you nod your head and Joel begins to lower his fingers to your mouth. He starts softly, running his fingers along your bottom lip, coating it with you. When your mouth falls open with a pant, he takes the opportunity to push his fingers inside, rubbing along your tongue. Your lips close around his fingers with a whimper, relishing in the groan he lets out as you suck them clean.

He’s panting almost as hard as you are by the time he pulls his fingers from your mouth. You can tell he’s reached the end of his rope, has worked himself up almost too much teasing and playing with you. He takes his cock in his hand, hissing as he strokes himself a few times.

“Gotta fuck you now, honey,” he says roughly as he lines himself up at your entrance.

“Please, Joel,” you whimper, attempting to lift your hips to pull him into you. “I want it. Please.”

Joel practically growls as he pushes into you, not stopping until he’s buried to the hilt. Your nails dig sharply into the skin of his shoulders, your back arching off the bed and a broken moan falling from your lips. Joel is big, and no matter how much he preps you, how wet he makes you, the feeling of his cock pushing inside of you is always overwhelming.

“Fu-uck,” you gasp, your walls clenching around him. His breathing is ragged, and you know it’s only a matter of seconds before he loses control and fucks you within an inch of your life. He stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. He meets your eyes, takes in the way you can barely keep them open, how your mouth is open as you try to catch your breath, the way your lips are a little swollen from the kisses and bites he’s given you. When you sluggishly blink back him and give him a blissed-out smile, he’s done for.

He pulls out nearly all the way before snapping his hips forward, hard, the force of it making you yelp and cling to him even further. The pace he sets is brutal, and you feel your body moving up the mattress with every stroke. Joel grunts above you, reaching one hand down to grip your thigh and pull your leg up higher on his torso. It allows him to hit inside of you even deeper, almost impossibly so, the change in angle making you clench around him.

“Jesus, fuck, you’re—” Joel grits out from behind his teeth, cutting himself with a shout when you clench around him again. “Fucking hell, you’re squeezin’ me so damn tight.”

He trails his hand from your thigh and up the side of your body, the feeling of his hand moving against your skin making you break out in goosebumps. His hand grips either side of your jaw, and with what little brain power you have left, you’re captivating by how big hands are.

Your train of thought is broken, though, by Joel’s face coming closer to yours. You think he’s holding you in place to kiss you, but instead his fingers squeeze, forcing your mouth open.

“Stick your tongue out,” he pants at you. When you don’t comply right away, his order taking a moment longer than it normally would to process in your brain, he squeezes you harder, nearly snarling, “Now.”

You stick your tongue out and when you do, Joel leans down and spits into your mouth. Your eyes go wide at the feeling of it on your tongue, a wrecked moan slipping out. He lets go of your jaw and instead shoves his fingers back into your mouth, his digits moving in time with his hips. You gag a little on his fingers, a few more tears building and falling from the corner of your eyes in quick succession.

When Joel pulls them out, a trail of your spit connects his fingers to your lips. He grumbles a rough “fuck,” before moving his hand down to where your bodies are connected. His spit-slick fingers begin to rub fast circles against your aching clit, the shock of it making you shout and tighten around him.

“Jesus fucking christ, Joel,” you cry out. “Fuck, don’t stop, please, I’m so close.”

“Not gonna stop. Need to feel you come around my cock. Come on, baby. Let me have it.”

“Yes, fuck, I’m gonna come,” you moan with a nod. Your orgasm had been building steadily, each of Joel’s rough thrusts dragging perfectly against your walls to send you higher and higher. With his slick fingers now on your clit, you felt you could snap at any moment.

Joel must’ve felt it before you did, yours walls tightening like a vice around him, making his hips stutter and pulling a low groan from his chest. Your whole body tenses up beneath him, the air knocked from your lungs, before everything releases. The waves of pleasure rolling through your body are intense and overwhelming, a wailing moan falling from your lips. You’re practically sobbing beneath him, unable to hear him talk you through it over the pounding in your ears.

He works you through it as best as he can, only managing to stay inside of you for a few more thrusts before the feeling of your fluttering cunt becomes too much for him. He pulls out of you abruptly and takes himself in his hand, working his cock as he lets your legs fall back down to the bed and quickly shuffles up your body to straddle your torso.

“Look’it you, all pretty and fucked out for me,” Joel grunts, his fist working his cock faster and faster. “You always take me so well. Let me use you how I want. God, you’re fucking—” His hips stutter and he moves to grip the base of his cock as he lets go, coming over your tits. You moan as the feeling of his warm spend hits your chest. A flicker of arousal lights in your core at the sight of him marking you.

“Perfect,” he finishes with a groan, stroking himself a few final times. When he’s milked his cock dry, he turns and flops down next to you on the bed, gathering you into his arms and pulling you against him. He doesn’t care that his come hasn’t even finished drying against your skin, that it’s getting all over him. All he wants right now—knows all you need right now—is for him to hold you in his arms. He leans down to press a few soft kisses to the crown of your head.

The two of you are silent for a while, taking the time to bask in the after glow and let your hearts and breathing return to normal. You snuggle down further into Joel’s chest, feeling your eyes growing heavy with fatigue. You blink slowly a few times, letting them fall shut.

“You fallin’ asleep on me, honey?” Joel asks you, the soft rumble of his voice lulling you even further.

You hum wordlessly, too exhuasted to try and formulate a response. His soft chuckle jostles you a little, but he settles quickly, pecking your head once again.

“Get some rest while you can, baby. ‘Cause it’s still early, and I ain’t done with you yet.”

It’s going to be a long day off for you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

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kirbyystar · 1 year

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Dream Girl

Megumi x reader

Summary. One of your friends thought it’d be a great idea for you to finally go out and meet people. With that, you were set up on a blind date with a man you must admit, almost a dream.

Warnings. character is aged up. Delusional Megumi.

NOTE. Soo I had a funny little idea to write stories based on a song. I used a wheel to pick a character! So, for our first series, I present you

Dream Girl - Crisaunt / Megumi Fushiguro

Exhausted, you took your heels off as you entered your apartment and closed the door behind you. It was one hell of a night. A night you won’t forget. You figured you’d thank your friend for making this happen. Who knew you’d get so attached after one blind date. Was it how sweet and soft he was? Or how incredibly attractive he looked?

Megumi, who just got home from driving you to your apartment, tucked on his tie as he lay in bed to stare at the ceiling and let the scenes from earlier replay in his head.

Megumi, who agreed to just go on this one blind date to give a chance after his past.

Megumi, who took you out to a fancy restaurant and held an ongoing conversation with you for almost an hour.

Megumi, who never realized how much of a chatterbox he became tonight.

Megumi, who smiled every time you let out a laugh, even a giggle was enough to send his heart racing.

Megumi, who was becoming more nervous as time passed, wished the night didn’t have to end yet.

Megumi, who took you out after dinner to go see the stars with you.

Dinner lasted longer than expected but it wasn’t like neither of you wanted to leave. Megumi offered a spot where he knew the stars were so bright and clear. He insisted on showing you. With that, you both found yourselves lying on the floor with a blanket over to watch the shining stars above you. Your eyes lost in the stars were all Megumi needed to just melt in you. He had never seen someone so interested and amazing as you. You took the chance to look back at him and express a warm smile. It caused him to do it back, leaning closer to brush the strands in your face.

Megumi lays in bed and kept imagining the way the stars reflected in your eyes. He smiled to himself as he felt his cheeks warming. He closed his eyes and imagined what’d you feel like laying in bed with his arms around you. He was addicted to you. Shifting his position to lay on his side, he grabbed a pillow and pulled it to his chest. Holding it close he imagines you being the pillow. He only managed to catch a kiss on your hand before he dropped you off at home. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking how sweet you’d taste now. He pulled his phone from his pocket to message you, “You up?” Of course, he got your number before you parted ways. He wanted another date, another chance. Hopefully, the chance to take you home. Not for the reasons of what the back of his mind thought, but to just be all over you. He craved for you now.

It wasn’t long for his phone to light up, a fuzzy feeling forming in his stomach, “wyd?” the message said. “Oh nothing, just laying in bed and obsessing with the thought of you being here now.” Oh, how he wished he’d send that. His words caused him to chuckle at himself, “I can't sleep. Just laying in bed.” was the safest response he could send.

Another notification caused the phone to light up again, only this time it seemed to have been a photo. It quickly caused Megumi to shoot up from his position, what could you have possibly sent? He clicked on the notification and his eyes met with you holding a peace sign and smiling at the camera. Immediately he saved the photo, choosing to edit your contact info with that photo and the name, “Dream Girl.”

“Thanks for the new profile picture” he responded after liking the photo. His back now flat on his bed, he placed the phone on his chest and closed his eyes, imagining how shy you’d get from all the things he could have done. Oh, now he was missing you dearly.

“What about me??” the notification off his phone read. He smiled to himself and sent a photo covering half his face, he wasn’t the type to pose or smile at the camera. “That's nothing omg.” your response to his photos, “Why don’t we Facetime so I can get a picture?”

Facetime? If it meant he got to see you, he was all for it. Without a response, he called you on Facetime. It didn’t take long for you to answer. Megumi was sitting on his bed, resting his head against the headboard now as he smiled as soon as he heard your voice.

The call lasted for almost an hour before you expressed how tired you were. He decided to let you go for the rest of the night, but right after the call, his heart sank as the fuzzy feeling in his chest faded away. He was already missing you undeniably. “Goodnight y/n” is his last message for you tonight. He figured you didn’t answer as you probably were dozed off already. He rested his phone on the table next to his bed and closed his eyes. Lost in his thoughts as he imagined your love right now. It didn’t take long until he fell asleep with a dream of you and him.

divider. cafekitsune

a/n. can't believe i wrote delulu megumi LOL anyways enjoy

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk anime #jjk megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk writing #jjk fanfic #jjk fushiguro #i hope you all enjoy!#writers on tumblr #jjk funny #jjk gojo #jjk meg #blog #headcanon

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fiction-box · 1 year

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Dimitri x F!Reader: Kidnapped Together

This one turned out longer, but I think I was able to communicate everything from the previous ask a bit better (go check it out if you like this one!). The stakes are a bit higher, I had some fun playing around in my head, and this is what came out for you. Enjoy!

Requests are open. The story will continue under the cut.

Dimitri:

“...-tay away from her…”

Voices faded in and out of your head. Of your ears? You weren’t sure if what you were hearing was even real.

“...-ust trying to get her….-et us throu-”

“You have done enough! Stay back!”

That got you up. Your eyes fluttered open, glancing around the room while you shifted into a seated position. The walls were made of brick, but you couldn’t see the door from the three people crowding into the small room. Prince Dimitri stood between you and the strangers.

You moved to stand, but were held down by the chains keeping your wrists close to the floor.

At the rattling you made, Dimitri turned his head ever so slightly to check on you, “Stay down. You mustn't strain yourself.”

“...what?”

“She won’t need to if you just let us tend to-”

“You caused this,” he growled. “I am not so delusional as to allow you to make it worse.”

“Can I please know what’s going on?” you worried, realizing all this directly concerned you.

“Just…stay close to the ground,” he softened his voice a bit to address you. “They hit you on the back of the head while we were hunting in the woods, then used you as leverage to get the upper hand on me.”

A woman in armor gripping a lance approached, trying to take advantage of the apparent distraction. Catching on quickly, Dimitri squared up to her. The lancer’s brows lowered as she backed down again.

“If she bleeds out, know it will only be because you allowed her to.”

You gasped, bringing a hand toward the back of your head before the chains restricted you from doing so, “W-Wait, I’m bleeding out?”

“No, it will be because you chose to attack us. Look at yourselves; you can’t even control your prisoners.”

“We never meant-”

Your classmate cut her off, “But you did. And the only way you could make it right is to either heal her or let us go.”

“You’re not letting us heal her,” the fortress knight closest to the door barked.

“I wonder what option that leaves for you.”

Dimitri was holding himself with all the power and authority of a royal despite the circumstances. It would normally have you in awe, but you were struggling to focus on anything except the possibility that you were a sitting duck in critical condition.

The good news was that he was clearly getting under their skin. Your captors seemed to value both of your lives for some reason; not just the prince’s.

Unfortunately, yours was the life being gambled, and you were on a strict time limit. Dimitri could only call their bluff for so long before they’d have to make a decision. While the daughter of a noble was a decent bargaining chip, you weren’t quite sure how far your captors would be willing to go to keep you upright.

Maybe they’d wait for you to pass out, forcing Dimitri into a final decision.

Perhaps your fate would be decided only after you fell unconscious.

But for now, you said nothing. If you let these…rogues…in on how much you wanted help, they would certainly use your words against Dimitri. Then what would you have to keep yourself safe? No doubt they’d separate you.

“Step. Aside.”

“Then what? You two can’t escape while she’s chained to the floor.”

“That never stopped me.”

Indeed, the cuffs of a different set of chains were still bound to Dimitri’s wrists. He must have broken his own at some point before you woke up.

The fortress knight stepped forward this time, holding out his lance as the witch next to him primed her magic. Fire, from the looks of it.

“Pathetic. Do you really think you can stop me?”

You had never seen this side of Dimitri before. He was acting a bit more…well, scary wasn’t the proper word. Authoritarian wasn’t either. In all honesty, you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it.

Not that it mattered. At the end of the day, he was getting you out of here.

Suddenly the world spun. You were caught by surprise, but you couldn’t steady your head with your hands. The most you could make of the skirmish in front of you was bright colors and blurred lines. You wanted to throw up, yet you felt like there was nothing to get rid of. Plus, it would only worsen your headache.

On instinct, you tried to balance yourself; to stop yourself from falling over. Since you weren’t actually off-centered, the endeavor didn’t go so well, and you struggled to regain control of your body before you could hit the floor.

When you set your hand on the ground beside you to steady yourself, blood dripped onto it.

Was this a good time to ask for help?

…more help?

Looking up as your sight came back to you, you realized you had no idea where you were. There were bodies on the ground, drops of blood spattered around them. They matched the beads trickling down your hand.

Prince Dimitri was at your side, tearing through the chains at your wrists.

“Where are we?” you asked him, glancing back at the people motionless on the floor. “D-Did I do this?”

“What? No, you’ve been stuck here on the fl-” his voice quieted, “By the Goddess, no…”

His hand moved to your face, angling it toward him until you had nowhere else to look but into his eyes. After a moment, the action had made you somewhat dizzy.

You recoiled a bit, “Wh- You’re acting strange…”

He turned his head away, sighing lightly as he broke your other shackle off. Arms now free, you moved to stand before he stopped you.

“Your eyes…we need to get you out of here.”

“Okay, so let’s go.”

“No,” he again prevented you from getting up. “No large movements…I need to find a way to get you out of here safely.”

Glancing around the room once again, you couldn’t identify any living threats to your survival, “There must be something I’m not getting. Where are we? It doesn’t look like we’re in any direct danger; nothing is stopping us from leaving.”

He rose to his feet, watching to make sure you stayed down, “I don’t know where we are…some ruffian camp by the monastery- but I know the way back. They kept me conscious during the walk.”

“...that’s an odd way of phrasing it…”

“Yes, well. I won’t be doing much more of that. The important thing is getting you out of here as efficiently as possible. That means without you…moving…y……d…t…m…ch.”

You ducked your head as you felt it throb, staring at the floor and trying even just to breathe. In and out. You were in trouble, you knew that much, but you just couldn’t…

…if…if you could just…focus…

Vaguely, you registered hands at your arms. They shifted; one to your waist, one to your back, an arm to your head, and you suddenly couldn’t feel the ground anymore.

“...I…”

“Please, try not to move. I’m going to get you out of here.”

…out…of here…?

“Put your head down. I will keep you safe.”

That voice…it sounded so familiar…

They sounded so calm and comforting, so easy to trust, you found it hard to think of disobeying. How easy it was to rest, to ignore everything and rest your head.

But the feeling of dread wouldn’t go away.

“...I feel…bad…”

“I know,” he said. The voice was male, “Just hang on a bit longer. Does that sound manageable?”

It wasn’t. It sounded easy enough, but the darkness that engulfed you afterward said otherwise.

~~~~

“Dimitri!”

His head shot up from the side of your medical bed as he startled awake.

“What? Is something the matter?”

But once his eyes adjusted, it didn’t look like there was much on your mind except confusion; as though you had called out to him from some dream you had, or perhaps you had been reliving past events. You were just staring at the bookshelf across from you, dumbfounded.

“How…? But I thought-”

“Easy,” he lightly set his hand atop yours. “We’re safe now. This is Manuela’s study.”

“Oh…” you commented. “I only remember a few things, I think. I was hit on the head…there was blood and a prison of sorts…and then nothing.”

“We were attacked by some band of scum after we left to hunt for the monastery,” Dimitri frowned. “They tried to hold you over my head and capture us both…and I’ll admit they got away with it for longer than I’m proud of.”

You looked worried, though he assured you everything turned out fine. The two of you had returned to safety, after all, and you looked relieved to hear it.

“I managed to bring you back without running into trouble, but…”

He felt his face begin to warm, his eyes finding a spot on the far wall; anything to keep himself from making eye contact with you.

“...you said a few things on the way.”

“What…what do you mean?”

“You kept fading in and out- surely, some of it was coming out of your head. I…I don’t want it to-”

“Your Highness, what did I say?”

“Ah, erm…” the hand he was resting on yours flew to the back of his neck. His face was burning now, but he’d only be more embarrassed if he tried to hide it, “Please, don’t call me that right now…”

At least you seemed to be back in good health. Manuela had gathered quite the posse to care for you, but he had pulled rank and refused to leave until you were awake. This was his fault, at least partially, and he would see it through.

His position as the Kingdom’s heir certainly had its uses.

“...you’re scaring me. Please, just tell me what I said,” you looked down at the thin white sheet covering your legs, your body rigid and still, “I hope it wasn’t a mean thing.”

“N-No,” he rushed to assure you. Goddess, why was this so difficult to say when you were the one that said it in the first place?

He felt your eyes trying to connect with his own, “Then…what?”

“You…said you loved me.”

One of your hands flew to cover your face as it tinted scarlet, prompting his own face to turn a similar hue, he was sure.

“And I know! I knew you had suffered head trauma- I wouldn’t have even given a second thought to it…but you began saying all these other things. You called me kind and courageous, chivalrous and determined…”

With each of his words, you seemed to grow more and more…well, whatever it was your eyes were expressing through your fingers, it was making him grow nervous.

“I…If it is okay with you, that is…I would like to know if you truly thought those things about myself…?”

Please say yes. Please say yes. If only you were to say yes, maybe I-

“Of course,” you muttered, letting your hand lower as your gaze directed toward it, “How could I not? Especially after the tendrils of what little I could remember coming back to me, I…”

He said nothing, hoping you would find it in you to continue your praise of him. Perhaps it was a little underhanded, but he found he liked hearing you speak of him in such a way.

“You’re brave- you protected me when I couldn’t defend myself. I remember you were patient with me when…when my condition worsened-“

You cut yourself off after accidentally meeting his eyes, as though you had just begun to realize what it was you were saying.

Should he say something too? To make it less awkward?

“I find you attractive too.”

Wait.

“What?”

What?!

“N-No, that’s not what I meant. I, well, I do find you attractive, but I was trying to refer to your actions and your personality. Not that I…don’t find you physically attractive as well, but-“

“Just…say whatever it is you need and leave? I think I’ve had enough of everything, today.”

His heart clenched a little, at that. That wasn’t what he had meant to say at all, and now it sounded like you didn’t even want to look at him.

Why was it that he had to ruin this when it was so close to going right?

“That came out wrong,” the leader of the Blue Lions sighed, “It’s because of your determination and strength that I have come to understand the only limitations of life are the ones I place upon myself. You are loyal, honest, and true to yourself; even if that means going against those around you.”

There. That was closer to what he truly felt. He wasn’t sure he could manage to say much more without messing everything up again, so he opted to just close his mouth and wait.

You looked brighter though; almost like Dimitri hadn’t just ruined whatever your relationship was not but two minutes ago. That was what truly mattered, he supposed. You had gone through hell today, and the least he could do was try to make the end of your day better.

“I…perhaps you had better get more rest. I will retrieve Professor Manuela for you,” he stood, turning back to you one last time, “Get well soon, and don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.”

You responded with a simple wave.

Dimitri shut the door behind him, taking a few steps down the hall before leaning against the wall. He covered his face with one hand. His heart was racing too fast. The prince took a deep breath only to let it out a moment later.

Honestly, today had made him feel sick with the amount of emotions swirling around in his chest. There was so much fear- both of you would have been ransomed or worse if your captors had been a little smarter, and you had nearly…

The blond shook his head. He knew fear, and that was definitely part of what he felt, but for some reason it had created an amalgamation with his…well…attraction to you. The words you had exchanged mere moments ago certainly didn’t help, and he had held you so close on the way back to the monastery that it was a miracle he was still functioning.

Shifting off the wall, he rushed out of the hallway and down the stairs to find Professor Manuela. You needed help first, even if he didn’t want to wait to talk to you again.

He’d see you when you were better, and though maybe you’d forget your conversation, at least now he knew something about how you felt.

Perhaps there existed some hope for him after all.

#fire emblem #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fe x reader #fiction #fe3h x reader #fire emblem x reader #x reader #fe dimitri #dimitri x reader #fe3h dimitri #dimitri fe3h #dimitri fire emblem #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe16 #f!reader #fem!reader

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agaypanic · 1 year

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Malcolm in the Middle Simp Headcanons

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

Malcolm

Probably met you in the Krelboyne class

Very impressed by your brains

Always chooses you as a study buddy or project partner

Holds back complaints about life and shit just to hear you talk

This is very difficult for him to do bc the dude LOVES to complain

Holds your books/backpack for you and walks you to all your classes

Mainly because you have the same classes, but he insists he’d do it even if you didn’t

Learns everything about you and commits it to memory (which isn’t hard because of his memory)

You’re the best thing in his sucky life

Stevie had half a mind to roll away from his best friend as he went on and on about Herkabe. Something about him trying to get Malcolm to sabotage his perfect GPA so Herkabe could keep some academic record. Usually, Stevie would care very much about someone’s academic standing. But right now, he was focused on trying not to kill himself or Malcolm.

“I mean, it’s absolutely ridiculous! He’s using Reese to get me to tank a grade. Reese! It’d work better if it was-”

“Hey, guys!” You bounded towards the two, and Malcolm’s demeanor changed entirely. Stevie was grateful for your arrival because, for some reason, Malcolm lessened the bitching and moaning by a lot.

“Hey, Y/n.” The boys greeted back.

“So, what were you guys talking about?”

“Well-” Stevie was about to snitch on your boyfriend but was cut off by him.

“Oh, it was nothing.”

“Are you sure? You looked pretty passionate about it.” Malcolm assured you it was nothing, but Stevie gave you a look saying he’d tell you about it later. “Okay, then. Wanna go to class?”

“Sure!” Malcolm responded excitedly, grabbing his backpack off the lunch table you were hanging around. You said goodbye to Stevie and made your way to first period. “Want me to take your bag?” He asked but was already slipping the strap off your shoulder.

Reese

COOKS FOR YOU

ALL THE TIME

I’m convinced it’s his love language

From snacks to tide you over until lunch to full-course meals during the rare occasion that you two have the house to yourselves

Will beat the shit out of anyone who messes with you

If it’s a girl, he’ll probably get Cynthia to do it

Your happiness is his biggest priority; he can’t have some idiot messing with that

“Reese, this is delicious.” You moaned as you ate a baggie of your favorite snack that he had cooked up for you. He knew how hungry you’d get from skipping breakfast, so he packed you a little snack bag every day so you wouldn’t be miserable until lunch. He was somewhat surprised that the teacher hadn’t made him stop bringing food to class, but it might’ve had something to do with the fact that whenever you were happy, he was happy. And a teacher would rather have a happy Reese than an angry Reese.

“I think I might make that my go-to snack for you; you seem to like it the most.” You smiled at the comment, giddy that he paid attention enough to know which of his foods were your favorite.

“Well, I like all your food.”

The last bunch of kids filed in, and the last one seemed miserable. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was a kid in your class that messed with you frequently. You then noticed that he was littered with cuts and bruises. Immediately, you had an inkling of how this happened.

“Reese, did you do that?” He looked up at the kid, smirking at his handiwork.

“Gotta keep my girl happy.”

Francis

Thinks it’s love at first sight

Francis is such a delusional romantic tbh

If you meet him while he’s in military school, he’s always writing you poems and letters

Half of his calls home are for you because he just wants to know how you’re doing

If you work at the ranch with him, he’ll pick up the work on your chores if you have something to do

Even if you don’t need any help, he’ll accompany you just because he loves spending time with you

You know those tiktoks that are like “when you and your friend work together, so everything’s a two-person job now”?

That’s him with EVERYTHING

Even if you’ve been together for years, he still tries to impress you with extravagant presents or ideas

You tell him you don’t need/want much, just him, but he thinks you deserve the very best

“Francis, I can do it myself.” You jokingly rolled your eyes at your boyfriend, who set out plates and cutlery for the breakfast buffet. “It’s the easiest job of my day.”

“I just wanna make it easier, baby.” Francis kissed you before straightening the table clothes in the dining hall and on the patio.

“Well, thank you.” You smiled before moving to restock the napkin dispenser. Francis raced to your side, opening the dispenser for you. “Thanks again.”

“No problem. So, I was looking at our schedules, and I noticed we should be done with work at the same time.”

“Oh, yeah?” He nodded, closing the dispenser and positioning it right on the table. “What do you have planned?”

“Not much.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but if you knew your boyfriend well, you knew at least three different activities were reserved for you two now. “Just a couple’s horse ride, massage, and then I asked Otto to make sure that one of the jacuzzis would be off limits. Just for us.”

“Oh, that sounds so nice, honey.” He cupped your cheeks, kissing you deeply, and you were thankful that the guests were either still asleep or doing something else.

“Anything for my favorite girl.”

#malcolm wilkerson x reader #malcolm wilkerson #malcolm wilkerson headcanons #reese wilkerson x reader smut #reese wilkerson #reese wilkerson headcanons #francis wilkerson x reader #francis wilkerson #francis wilkerson headcanons #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader #agaypanic

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beomurang · 10 months

Text

𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗗 ✦ 𝗛𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗞𝗔𝗜 💫

pairing : huening kai x reader

genre : fluff (?), angst, unrequited love, one side pining on your best friend

word count : 517

synopsis : again at 2am you find yourself lying on the vast green field, staring at the starry night sky. with your enchanter lying beside, a sense of longing and delusion fills you inside.

warning : angst, tissues maybe, reader is delusional (we all are), sad sad sad

a/n : my first fic! idk why this song reminds me of your name. it reminds me of hyuka as well, cuz he's so mystical and moon night sky water painting coded as you see in the pics up there (if that makes any sense). i cried while writing this, i hope you enjoy! m.list

Under the numerous stars, you are both lying on the soft field of grass, the leaves tickling your skin as a breeze blows by. The two pairs of gleaming eyes are mesmerised, absorbed with counting the endless glitter granules sprayed across the prussian blue sky. At times you break contact to look at the boy beside you, who represents a star himself. You can call him the sun. Though hidden in the depths of the night sky, the sun has it's presence through it's glowing moon. You can call yourself the moon, basked in his bright light that makes you shine in the darkness.

He stops his random rambles, which have been deflected from his counting, to look back at you. The sound of the breeze fills the silence between you two, while you have your eyes locked with each other. After a minute of silence, a gentle smile graces his lips that your lips reciprocate. A warm nostalgic feeling fills your heart, which reminds you of all those coffee hangouts you had with him in the winter mornings.

The last 2am you are spending with him before who knows when you will see him again, or will you ever. Shifting to a far away place to pursue your dream has its prices. If that includes losing another dream of yours, another star that you want to keep close to you forever, you nod. As if a needle has pricked your heart, the bittersweet nostalgia has morphed into the sourness of despair and hopelessness. Anyways it's too late, the words you wanted to say all along would be meaningless if you aren't going to stay for another tomorrow with him.

Your eyes well up with tears and he reaches out his hand to wipe them off. The smiles are now laces to keep the emotions within yourselves intact. You feel it is far fetched but you can't help yourself but hope that he has just you as someone who will wait for him and that he would do the same for you for years. It feels foolish and selfish to want to keep him all to yourself as you will never be ready to let him go. Those buried feelings made you hope that there isn't someone else he will fall for in that undefined timeline. You hope it isn't someone else that may cross his mind every time he looks at a star. And you feel guilty. Because you know, you don't deserve him. And you know deep down, that the stars will not fall for your wish.

That's when his phone rang. He takes out his phone, his smile spreads a little wider as he reads the name on the phone screen. He does have someone who has been waiting for him already, the same who he has fallen in love with. And it isn't you. Will never be.

taglist : @itz-yerin @minholing @cathyun @bobabeomii @ix-luna

send an ask to be in the taglist!

likes, feedbacks and reblogs are highly appreciated 🫶🏻

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cheerscoops · 2 years

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Eddie x reader “feeling for each other in the dark” 🥹

You’d been looking forward to date night with Eddie all week. It was storming pretty heavily to the point where neither of you really wanted to go out, but that wasn’t going to stop you from enjoying yourselves. You’d rented a few horror movies, and you planned on spending the evening wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms. Wayne was at work for the evening, so you had the trailer to yourselves. It was going to be the perfect night.

You’d been sent to Eddie’s room to change into one of his t-shirts and a pair of his pajama pants so you’d be more comfortable, and he was working on getting your movie snacks ready. Just as you were about to head back into the living room, a flash of lightning illuminated the room before you were plunged into complete darkness. You could hear your boyfriend cursing from the other room as you fumbled around for the door handle.

“You okay out there?” you called as you exited the bedroom.

“Just fine,” Eddie replied. “The storm must have knocked out the power.”

“Got a flashlight?”

“If we do, I’ll never find one in the dark. Think you can make your way over to me?”

“Why don’t you come to me?” you suggested. “It’s not like we can watch a movie now anyway, so we could cuddle in your room instead.”

“My girlfriend, who currently looks oh so very sexy, thinks all we’re going to do is cuddle if I get her into my bed? Absolutely delusional.”

“You can’t even see me right now,” you said with a laugh. “How could you possibly know I look sexy?”

“I don’t need to see you to know that there’s nothing more beautiful than you wearing one of my Metallica tees.”

“It’s a Black Sabbath one actually.”

“Even better.”

You were thankful for the darkness in that moment because it hid the blush that you were certain was visible on your cheeks.

“Get over here then.”

You held your arms out trying to feel for him so you could pull him towards you the moment you touched him. You’d both had the same idea because you felt his hands before anything else. As soon as he felt you, he moved forward to circle his arms around your waist, and he walked you backwards into his room until the backs of your legs collided with his bed. He pushed you down onto the bed and followed to lay down next to you. He was on you in an instant, and as he started kissing you, you thought that maybe date night hadn’t been ruined after all.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader drabbles #my writing

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unsentlettersforpalestine · 6 months

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Friday, April 5, 2024

Some people think I am insane because despite everything, I keep trying to raise awareness about Palestinian cause day in and day out. Some people say I am too "extreme" and I am so delusional to think that what I do matters. Some people think I can never stop the genocide against Palestinians—and maybe they're right—but that's no reason to quit. Palestinians are being massacred and we must do everything we can to help them achieve liberation. Irrespective of what people say or do, we must stay strong and keep speaking up. Because that's the bare minimum.

I know. It's easier said then done. But there's no alternative. If you have a functional heart then you can never be silent, do absolutely nothing and look away. Yeah, we get tired and frustrated and sad at times. I myself sometimes feel like my efforts are futile. There are times where I wonder why I keep doing the things that I do for Palestine—specifically why I keep writing. I have moments of:

"what's the point? at the end of the day, people will not listen to me anyway, right?"

"Am I trying to impress people?"

"Do I want to receive compliments from people?"

"Why can't I just be like those ignorant and apathetic people? Why can't I just ignore and pretend that there's no fucking genocide unfolding right in front of my eyes?

"Why do I always have the burning desire to keep writing and writing and writing?"

"Why do I always want to educate more and more people about Palestinian cause?"

"Maybe I should take some days off"

"My writing is crappy anyway so why bother?"

"Do I really think I can make a difference in this evil world?"

"Who the hell do I think I am?"

"Isn't it more enjoyable to just be like my friends who don't give a shit about all of this?"

"What can a piece of writing from an ordinary girl possibly do?"

But then I remember my goals. To raise awareness about Palestinian cause. To never let the world forgets what has been happening to Palestinians or more than 75 years. To never let people forget all the atrocities Israshit has been committing on Palestinians. To keep y'all engaged. To remind y'all that you are more than capable of doing something, anything to help Palestinians reach liberation. To encourage y'll to never give up on yourselves. To activate (or reactivate) you into mobilization. To recharge you and uplift y'all. Thank you for never choosing to quit. We've got this. And as always, FREE PALESTINE🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza #gaza genocide #gaza strip #gazaunderattack #palestine #i stand with palestine #stop the genocide #from the river to the sea palestine will be free

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lord-squiggletits · 6 months

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I think one of the most annoying and pathetic forms of misogyny in fandoms is when fanboys whine about creators/marketing teams/etc "pandering to the shippers/fangirls" or whatever like.

Bud.

You wanna know WHY creators are catering to us?

It's bc those "fangirls and shippers" are the ones making mountains of content, talking about the media they love, sharing things others make, praising the creators, and generally broadcasting their love for their Blorbos at top volume everywhere, all the time.

Of course we get pandered to. Because we're the ones being most vocal about our love and support for the characters/stories/creators we like!!! Because when the creators look at their fanbase they see that the ones that are bringing the most love and hype and creativity and community to their artform is US!

Don't like it? Salty that the fangirls' favorites are getting attention from the creators and not you?

Then stop being a little bitch, put your money where your mouth is, and start being loud and annoying about the things YOU like! Nobody is fucking stopping you! Maybe instead of being a sexist looking down on fangirls for being cringe and "taking over" your beloved media/fandom, you should put in the effort to promote YOUR favorites and make YOURSELVES into a demographic that the creators want to give fanservice to!

But no it's easier to just shit on the fangirls for being hormonal or delusional or whatever it's catchy to say, so instead of actually putting in effort people are gonna just fucking whine about it

#not tf #squiggposting #discourse

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sowhatnotcreative · 1 year

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Open letter to all terfs:

You’re revolting. You look at a group of people trying their best to survive, to break an oppressive view of the world, and you try your best to ruin them. Need I explain why painting a group of people as monsters, why encouraging others to oppress a minority, why raping (and yes, trans people have been and are raped by terfs) and killing a group of people is wrong?

You claim to be for Justice, yet at every turn you side with fascists who impose the very rules you claim to want to break! Hell, you enforce those rules yourselves, claiming that they’re entrenched in sex! You claim that women are inherently weaker, gentler! That no woman has broad shoulders or facial hair, that no woman has excess testosterone, that no woman looks like a man!

Don’t you see how repulsive you are to people not embroiled in hate? Don’t you want to do something to make the world better, not worse? Use your passion for good! If you can’t understand trans people, if you don’t care too, fine! Focus your passion towards something else, but don’t focus it on a small population of people who just want to live happily in their own skin.

Prove to me you’re not just bigots. Prove me wrong, and put away your hate. Prove me wrong, and improve yourselves. Or, don’t. And let your hate consume you. But just understand, trans people are never going away. You can’t stop them from existing. But you can make your existence better.

"Prove me wrong" sweetie all the information you have about "terfs" is ridiculous fearmongering from your cult. It's impossible to prove anything to you because you're too indoctrinated to believe it. I mean just look at your own ask! Radical feminists do not say no woman has broad shoulders, that's the literal opposite of what we believe. Biological women have body hair and will be women no matter how we look, that's a intricate belief of radical feminism. We claim to be for justice? We are fascists? Radical feminists are for FEMALE LIBERATION. Neither the justice system nor the fascists want rights for women. If we wanted justice we would want to start a matriarchy and opress men for millenia. We don't want that, we want liberation from that. Women are physically weaker than men? If you don't believe this, go outside and ask to wrestle with a person of the opposite sex and you'll quickly find out it's true; YOU put value in that. Biological reality is real and only a uneducated science denier would claim women and men are physically the same. We bring humans into this world for shits sake! Women should be worshipped for their human making capacities, empathy and humanity that males lack. Being physically stronger yet having no empathy and being measurably less intelligent and built to die sooner and having less stamina is not some "proof of superiority". If it was we would be ruled by gorillas!

What trans women are opressed? Is it the ones stealing nike money ment for sports women and giving it to misogynistic men pretending to be little children? Or is it the ones that have raped women and are now allowed to be housed in womens prison to keep raping since you wanna talk about rape? (No radical feminist has ever raped a trans woman btw, this is just delusional.) Oh, maybe it's the ones that show up to womens marches and talks to beat up old ladies, maybe those are the opressed ones? Maybe it's the trans people who make sure that real women get fired from their jobs by calling males men? Maybe it's the trans people who have lobbied so hard that women are now called "uterus havers" and other misogynistic crap - yet men are still allowed to be called men? All the things the trans rights movement does makes it obvious it's literally just a offshoot from the mens rights movement.

Trans men ARE opressed though, by whom? By males. Trans women included. Ever wonder why your movement never talks about trans men or try to help them? Thats why! That's regular misogyny. If you wanna count rapes I'd bet you a million that more trans men have been raped by trans women than trans women have been raped. Yet all your movement cares about is the males. Standing behind the rapists and assaulting males and empowering them.

Straight white men, as you people always wanna say, stacking the opressor points, are not a minority. And most trans women are just that. Straight white men. They are not opressed even if they like dressing in womens clothing (something serial killers love doing as well btw), get a hardon from pretending to be little girls or from destroying womens rights and invading our safe spaces - which they do, it's everywhere online. Men jerking off in womens bathrooms, men jerking off in childrens underwear for the "gender euphoria", men popping a boner even existing in public in womens clothing, it's impossible to miss just visit trans reddit for like 5 minutes.

I doubt you're even going to read this at all but that's the beauty of a angry and uneducated ask, I get to have the last word. Peace ✌️

#radfem #radical feminism #radfem please interact #gender critical #delusions in the ask #tra nonsense #this happens btw altho i dont know when or where but i believe so therefore it did #why are you making up rapes disgusting person #tra #mra #tra is mra #opression #educational #feminism

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bestworstcase · 5 months

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Hm. Yknow I was thinking about your Summer theory as well as Raven and I came to a conclusion that I think is Very interesting

So Summer would've told Raven the truth about Oz, right? The fact that he's preparing the world for divine judgement? What if Raven went to confront Oz about it? It'd be in character for her to do so, especially with something like THAT hanging over everyone's heads

But um. Backtracking real quick- Raven doesn't like Oz, but she doesn't seem to HATE him. She insults Tai and Qrow more than him, she mostly seems to hate how Oz does things. Which is completely fair, some of his actions deserve criticism (and I say this as an Oz fan lol). I think this Could give us insight into how Raven confronting Oz about the mandate could've gone

Basically Raven would've confronted Oz about it, and Oz, suspicious but still choosing to answer, would say that he hasn't worked towards that goal in millennia. Raven would call bullshit, until Oz offers to use the relic of knowledge underneath Haven.

Thing is, NO ONE besides Oz knows about the password. No one besides him COULD know, so I highly doubt Summer or someone else could've used it. And they go, Raven asks Jinn if Oz is lying- and she says that Oz isn't lying.

Raven would hate Oz a WHOOOOLE lot more if Oz was still working towards that goal and she knew about it. It'd be something I'm sure would've pushed her to even join Salem. But she... doesn't hate Oz. She doesn't LIKE him, obviously, and I don't think she ever will (her interacting with Oscar would be fun), but she doesn't seem to outright hate him. This theory would figure that out AND solve the "where did the first question go" AND be another tasty reveal.

I really don't think Oz is still working towards divine judgement. He absolutely USED to, but I think by now he's stopped completely. I have multiple reasons for this, such as him saying after The Four Seasons that magic should strictly stay in the realm of fantasy (doesn't sound like someone who wants magic or the gods back), that everything he's doing goes directly AGAINST what Light wants (in Fairytales of Remnant, he actively ENCOURAGES people to question everything they see or hear; Oz focuses on the importance of individuality; he actively makes the Gods look petty and bad, and probably more I'm forgetting). Oz isn't an idiot, nor is he delusional. He's made mistakes but that doesn't mean he's dumb.

You could argue he's still working towards unity, but by itself, unity isn't necessarily a BAD thing. And Light doesn't necessarily just want people to be united, he wants to, and I quote, "But if your kind is unchanged, if you demand our blessings while still fighting amongst yourselves, then man will be found irredeemable and your world will be wiped from existence." He wants people to not question him, to never ask for anything, to follow him blindly. Oz repeatedly directly opposes this idea, and even turns away when the option to actually fulfill this task is handed to him on a silver platter (everyone kneeling to him at the end of the Great War). The options are a) he's putting in the absolute BARE minimum of effort into his task b) he's a delusional idiot and c) he's not working towards this task anymore. I think it's far more likely he's not working towards it anymore.

Granted, I genuinely don't think Salem is aware of ANY of this. They haven't exactly been communicating. Just as Oz isn't aware of Salems true goals, Salem isn't aware that Ozpin gave up his goal. Honestly, if they talk and this comes up and Oz doesn't say "Is that truly what you think of me?" I'll buy a hat just to eat it <- thinks Oz parallels Darkness (delusional).

Anyways Raven would hate Oz way way more if Oz was still working towards that goal, unless she either doesn't know (unlikely, Summer would've told her) or he's not working towards it anymore and he proved it to her via relic (bc literally nothing else short of that would work).

the problem here though is that ozpin is still trying to fulfill his task, at least notionally. he doesn’t WANT to and he may not BELIEVE in it except insofar as he believes the final judgment is inevitable, but he locked down all four relics after establishing a united global order for a reason. however reluctantly, he’s still dragging himself forward along this path one painful inch at a time.

because it’s all he has left. because he’s punishing himself for what he sacrificed for the sake of this task. because he believes there is no other choice. because he fears that doing what he wants will doom the world to annihilation and is impossible besides.

as i’ve said before, beacon academy is a replica of her father’s castle and the headmaster’s office is at the top of her tower for a reason. in his telling, the girl “writes herself out of danger” by writing a fairytale about herself and throwing it to the winds; ozpin published an anthology of fairytales about her, about him, about all his sacrifices and all his regrets, pleading for forgiveness, and the last two stories are the girl in the tower (in his commentary he says the hero who saved her turned out a villain in the end, but hopefully the villain can become a hero too) and the gift of the moon (in his commentary he writes that humanity replaced a gift of the all-powerful god of light with something better).

throwing his stories and his plea for help to the wind, hoping against hope that somehow it’ll find its way into her hands, and she’ll understand and save him from all this.

we live in fear that we might fail/fear that we’ll succeed—he’s too afraid of the consequences if he fails to ever stop, but even greater than that fear is his terror of success, because this world still isn’t as dear to him without her and to save the world he would have to sacrifice her. do exactly the thing she mocks him for not doing: hold her up as a common enemy and rally the whole world against her, then summon the brothers to condemn her.

everything else—the paranoia the zealotry the deceit the passivity—is a distortion to hide this truth even from himself. he will choose her every time. and the fundament of his character is how much he fucking hates himself for that because he’s also convinced that his love dooms the world.

so like. no he would not tell raven jinn’s name, she might find out that he’s still in love with salem. that’s his deepest darkest horrible secret and his great and terrible shame.

i’m also not sure why you think raven would go to ozpin with the spring maiden’s blood on her hands and the awful truth that summer joined salem burning under her tongue, as if raven’s whole character isn’t that she runs away when she’s afraid. be serious.

raven talks about ozpin with the same mixture of disdain and fear she does salem. as far as she’s concerned they are exactly the same—both of them use and discard people, both of them lie, neither will rest until the world crumbles at their feet because no matter who wins in the end, the gods will return to crush or destroy everyone. raven doesn’t want anything to do with either of them; her disgust for tai and qrow is predicated on their trust in ozpin.

that doesn’t require an explanation.

“who asked the first question?” is also, frankly, on a level with “what happened to the stolen dust?” in that it’s an imaginary plot hole with a very obvious answer if you pay attention to the small details: ozpin used the staff of creation to raise atlas, then sealed the relic away in its vault; the staff gives you exactly what you ask for and therefore requires very thorough, precise instructions and ideally blueprints and examples; raising a city into the sky is a task with zero margin for error; ozma as the king of vale used the crown of choice in tandem with the sword of destruction to end the great war; ozpin is the only person who knows jinn’s name; ozpin used jinn’s first question to proof his specifications for the staff.

if raven “you need to question everything because the truth is hard to come by, stop blindly trusting oz” branwen knew how to use the lamp, she would have told yang how to do it before she left.

#¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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