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magicalbats · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024 Day 13: Sethos x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6283

Warnings: Afab!reader, misogynistic practices/beliefs, sexual slavery, free use, forced betrothal, chastity device (female), public sex, sex outdoors, anal fingering, anal sex, anal creampie, exhibitionism, mentioned death of parents, noncon to dubcon

A/N: Sethos is honestly one of the most gorgeous characters I've ever seen tbh, his color palette is just stunning imo. Love this guy. 🤭 Just make sure to pay attention to the tags everyone!

⭐

If one were to ask the tribesmen of the desert what they liked about the inhospitable environment so much that they’d choose to stay, even when there was a perfectly comfortable rainforest just over the horizon, one was likely to receive a variety of different answers. Some might say that it was the only home they’d ever known and they were used to living there. Although true, it wasn’t an entirely honest response.

Others might nudge their toe at the real reason by saying they liked the freedom that was allotted to them by living outside of the Dendro Archon’s dominion and the stuffy Akademiya’s reach. That was closer but still not entirely accurate.

Yet other denizens of Sumeru’s expansive desert may even get down to the nitty gritty of it and proudly admit they thrived in the bloodthirsty conditions perpetuated by the lawless land. It was a dog eat dog world out there, and some people were simply far too unlikable to thrive in a polite society where their fists didn’t solve every problem they encountered. You liked this kind of person the least.

In truth, you strongly suspected the real answer lied in the simplicity of the largely nomadic existence of the warrior peoples and not only when it came to problem solving matters. It was easy to understand that in order to eat you needed to work. Not so much when schooling suddenly came into question and you had to try to explain that investing in education now would result in an excess of mora to feed yourself with later. The same also applied to relationships. Why go to the trouble of courting a potential lover over time when you could simply take them by force and have them immediately?

That’s what it boiled down to, you think. A natural aversion to rule following and a hard coded need for the freedom to live life at your own discretion. It wasn’t really any wonder then that the Eremite’s had managed to survive these past long decades with neither help or interference from the nation’s Archon. They were a stubborn lot.

But that only applied to the people who were strong enough to back up their big talk, not someone like you. Taken in by the Temple of Silence as little more than an orphan turned slave and then promised to be their next leader's wife, you had neither freedom nor strength, and you certainly didn’t have the luxury of returning to the city in the rainforest where you were originally from. After your scholar parents died on a joint expedition out into the rolling sand dunes in an accident that left you wandering all alone in the barren wasteland, you had nothing to go back to anyway. Sometimes it felt like your fate had already been signed, sealed and dotted long before you were ever actually born and this lackluster existence was a foregone conclusion.

Oh, how you wished you had a cock between your legs so you wouldn’t have to endure such unfair treatment just because you were a woman.

Sethos was incredibly lucky in that regard. As your betrothed and future husband, you and him spent a lot of time together and you were always surprised at how much freedom he was actually given to do whatever he pleased. Of course not all of it had to do with his gender. As the next leader of the Temple and the adopted grandson of Bamoun, he was granted many allowances that even the other men simply didn’t have.

But you still can’t help the pang of jealousy you feel while you watch him happily gallivant around with nary a care in the world beyond the simple matter of daily survival. His future was already laid out before him and he didn’t need to worry about securing his position since it had already been decided for him by the current leader. It was only a matter of time until Sethos took over for him, and then the two of you would be wed.

The worst part was that he was exceptionally smart and had a quick wit that would put even some Akademiya alumni to shame despite his lack of formal education. You didn’t doubt for one second that he could have easily landed himself a spot in the prestigious school if he’d wanted to, if he’d just try, but that was not the fate the stars had laid out for him.

Sighing under your breath, you drop your chin into the waiting palm of your hand as you watch the boys recklessly fool around with their hunting knives. Someone was going to get themselves hurt at this rate but you knew better than to nag at them by now. They never listened anyway, and your status as a slave meant they often took offense to being told anything they didn’t want to hear when it was coming from you.

As usual you would just quietly observe their play sparring until one of them inevitably failed to move quick enough to avoid the swing of a blade and end up with a new scar to show for it. There was no reasoning with someone who didn’t want to be reasoned with.

Sethos, at least, tended to be a little more agreeable in this regard. He wasn’t outright opposed to hearing you out even if he didn’t always like what you had to say, and he glances over at where you’re sitting at the sound of your quiet exhale. An easy going grin slides across his face and he turns to walk towards you, plopping down on the ground next to the little blanket you’ve got laid out in the sand.

“Getting bored?”

“I’ve been bored since we got here.” You tell him truthfully, but rather than taking it as disrespect like some others might have he just throws his head back to laugh.

“Yeah, I guess girls don’t usually get much out of watching a couple of guys mess around with knives. Would you have liked to stay back at the temple instead?”

“Why, so I could knit yet another shirt for you?” Internally cursing the vague sting of tears that comes into your eyes, you turn your head so you won’t have to look at him any longer. Picking up a small rock covered in sand grit from the ground, you focus all of your attention on it instead. “I know this is just how life is out here, but there’s not much to do. Your grandfather doesn’t even let me have any books to read. He says I need to focus on learning how to be a good wife for you, not filling my head with ideas.”

And you hated it. You hated it so much you felt like you could just scream and throw a fit sometimes. Both of your parents had been accomplished graduates of the Akademiya and they’d instilled a love for learning in you from a very young age. You were supposed to be studying for tests and working on a thesis, setting up internships in your chosen field, not this.

That was the only reason you’d even been out here with them when the accident happened. To learn and pick up on skills that would help you once you were admitted to Teyvat’s most acclaimed and celebrated academy. Who could have ever guessed you'd never again step foot outside of the dry, arid desert at the onset of that trip?

And you don’t make any qualms about your feelings on the matter, nor do you try to hide the fact you’re unhappy. You’ve had this conversation with Sethos many times over the last handful of years since you found yourself in the care of the Temple of Silence but it never seemed to do you any good talking to him about it.

Just as every other time, he falls silent for a brief moment as if he were thinking it over before at last drawing a carefully measured breath to speak.

“I’m sorry things turned out this way for you. I’d change it if I could. But I’ll find you some books when we get back later, how does that sound?”

“And Bamoun will just take them away again.”

“Then I’ll find some more books for you. And when I take over from grandfather I can call the shots. You’ll have as many books as you want, habibti.”

“Don’t call me that.” You hiss, shooting him a quick but not less viscous look of warning.

Sethos just smiles right back at you though, completely unperturbed by your aversion to his favored pet name for you. The bright green of his eyes dances before you even in the shade of the rocky outcrop your small group had stopped at, as if the irises were lit from within with some unnamed mischief he was concocting.

It’s a little cooler here than out in the glaring sunlight but not cold enough to warrant the icy chill that snakes down your spine. That particular look from him rarely meant anything good.

“But you are my habibti. It only makes sense for me to call you that, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t want - -“

He cuts off your rattling protest when he reaches over to take your hand in his, snagging your fingers before you can think to pull them away. You startle slightly at the sudden contact even as you stamp down the urge to wrench free of his hold, knowing it wouldn’t do you any good to try. Sethos could at times be the most stubborn person you’d ever known and his tenacity was limitless. If he decided he wanted to hold your hand then that was what he was going to do.

“I know, I know.” He croons at you, keeping his voice soft and hushed as if he were coaxing a skittish animal to warm up to him. “This isn’t the life you would have chosen for yourself if you’d had the chance, and that’s okay. But what’s done is already done. We’ll be husband and wife someday soon so that makes you my habibti. Getting upset about it won’t change that, will it?”

You draw a sharp breath, instinctively readying to fight him on that, but the words catch in your throat. Not only because you already knew it would be useless and no amount of talking on your part ever seemed to convince Sethos that this wasn’t right, but also because of the steady way he just keeps smiling at you. Like his confidence on the matter was so resolute and unfaltering that even if you did try to plead your case it wouldn’t have any affect on his belief in these simple facts. And that’s exactly what it was. Simple fact.

It really was a lost cause. He’d already made up his mind long ago that this was just the way things were and you were going to be his wife. No ifs, ands or buts about it.

The fight promptly drains from you at that realization, leaving you feeling hollow and decidedly bereft of even enough energy to keep drawing air into your lungs. There was no point in fighting it.

“No, it won’t.” You murmur at last, earning a brief squeeze to your fingers.

“See? Then there’s nothing to be mad about. I don’t blame you for not liking all the trouble the elders put you through. I wouldn’t enjoy their knitting or cooking lessons either. That’s why I wanted to bring you out here today so you could get a break from them.”

Feeling a little guilty for your behavior now, you drop your attention to look down at your lap. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“That’s alright,” He tells you softly. “But I have noticed you’ve been getting more and more irritable lately. You know I don’t like to see you like this, habibti. Do you need me to tend to you like last time?”

Your stomach wrenches so suddenly and so aggressively you almost feel nauseous with the abrupt rush of dread that settles over you. It’s a violent subconscious reaction that is at complete and total odds with how casually unassuming the question had been.

Stiffening up to sit ramrod straight, you tersely give your captured hand a yank but he holds fast. You’d known better, of course, but —

“No. Not here, Sethos! Don’t - -“

Softly shushing you again, he scoots closer to join you on the edge of the blanket as his opposite hand comes up to reach for your face. You quickly snap your head away from him but this does you no good either. He just curls his strong, roughly calloused fingers over your cheek so he can force your attention back around to look at him. Although gentle about it, he’s so demanding in the way he nudges you that you have no choice but to comply.

And the tears you’d worked so hard to force back immediately spring up full force to make your vision swim. Sucking in a wet, faltering breath, you pleadingly peer over at your future husband, begging him to spare you the embarrassment of what he was suggesting. The other men were still only a few yards away playing their silly game, they’d see everything!

“Please. I don’t want to do it. I - I don’t like it, I really don’t.”

“I’m not sure I believe that, beautiful. You were so good for me the last time and well behaved too. Even grandfather remarked on how obedient you were.” Tenderly stroking his thumb across your skin, Sethos peers into your face with that confident, knowing little grin. “It’s okay, don’t fret now. I understand that you can be irrational at times but we know just how to fix that, don’t we?”

Your lower lip sadly warbles as he guides you into a nodding motion, encouraging compliance even when you’d rather do anything else than agree to this. But there wasn’t much you could do to actually fight it. Between being a prisoner of the Temple of Silence, functionally nothing more than a slave, and as his promised future bride, you simply didn’t have the privilege of choice. No matter how much you wanted to tell him ‘no’ and kick, and spit until he finally gave up on the idea, you just couldn’t do that.

So you merely sit there when he leans into you, letting him slot his mouth over yours with only a tiny little whimper to show for it. The way he kisses you is just as sure and confident as everything else he does, leaving you with no choice but to reluctantly give in to the demanding push and pull of his lips. He wanted you to reciprocate and so you do.

And when he slides his hand down off your cheek to deliberately push at your shoulder, indicating he wanted you to lie back, you do that too. Stiff and halting, you gingerly ease yourself down to the ground while Sethos follows after you so he can keep claiming your mouth for himself.

Once he’s got you laid out next to him, he lets his topmost hand wander to firmly grope over your chest and give the tits underneath your clothes a savory squeeze. You can’t help squirming against him at the immediate rush of sensation you feel while his surprisingly big hands knead over the fleshy swells until you can’t quite stop yourself from bringing your thighs together in a listless press. He did indeed make you feel good when he touched like this and if he’d just leave it at that you probably wouldn’t have been so opposed to it.

But he eventually grabs hold of your hip to direct you to roll half of the way over, which you shudderingly do to leave your ass pressed into his hip. Still hungrily kissing you, Sethos rather unceremoniously starts to gather your long skirt so he can hike it up around your waist and expose your lower body to the air. It’s not overly comfortable lying like that, with your hips twisted around to grant him the access he sought and your neck craned back to give him your mouth, but you have no choice in this either.

All you can do is helplessly lie there while he hooks a hand under the bend of your topmost knee so he can pull it wide to hook over his leg. That leaves the spot between your thighs completely exposed and vulnerable, and you shudder fiercely when he reaches down to smooth his fingers over your cunt.

Except it is not flesh and blood he touches but rather the cool metal of the gilded chastity device you were forced to wear. It was lightweight and flexible enough to move with your body, yet also sturdy enough to discourage any attempt at removing the barrier by force. Not even Sethos had the key to the little lock keeping it snugly in place where it fed down from the band that was tightly secured around your middle. Only Bamoun had the power to free you from the physical manifestation of your servitude, and he would give that same power over to your betrothed on the night of your wedding. But until then you were made to wear it day in and day out, permitted only to take it off to bathe once in the morning and once at night.

Your one and only consolation in this matter was that at least Bamoun didn’t personally handle the tediously dehumanizing routine himself and instead handed off the key to one of the other female hand servants to take care of. It wasn’t much of a compromise when you really thought about it but at least that saved you the humiliation of having the old man’s hands all over you, touching you where you really did not want to be touched.

But in the here and now when Sethos is lightly brushing his fingers over the strip of gold plated metal, you find yourself sensitively trembling for him all the same. You couldn’t feel anything at all through the chastity belt but the visual alone is enough to make your pussy flood with overly eager, long neglected slick. Even if you weren’t particularly happy about it, you were still keen to be touched there and you did like Sethos enough not to curse him for it.

Groaning a breathy, threadbare sound, you fist your nearest hand in the front of his shirt and jut your pelvis up towards his fingers. It didn’t matter if it was an effort in futility or not when you were so desperate for any stimulation at all that you felt nearly delirious with it at just the slightest suggestion. No one had ever touched you there before, not even yourself. Not like this. You’d only been at the very onset of puberty when you ended up here and the realization that you were a virgin was in part what had made Bamoun decide to marry you off to his grandson.

He’d said he wanted to keep it like that, to make sure you stayed pure and intact until the time came for Sethos to bed you, but in taking away anyone else’s access to your body he’d also taken away yours. There was only a small hole cut out of the otherwise perfectly smooth plate that allowed you to urinate through it but nothing else. It wasn’t even adequately big for you to slip one of your fingers inside.

The only point of entry was further back where the plate ended and the securing metal chord started. The entire contraption was much too snug against you where it fed up between your ass cheeks to move it very much, but there was just enough give for him to shift the thin chain aside and gain entry.

And that’s exactly what he does now, stretching his fingers down over your cunt to brush against the pucker of your hole when he hooks them into the chain. A low, faltering mewl tumbles out of your mouth when he nudges it as far as it will go to leave your anus completely exposed, and you jolt when you catch a masculine snicker off in the near distance.

You knew the other men must have been glancing over and probably elbowing each other over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Instead you just screw your eyes shut and suck in one ragged breath after another, jittery panic gripping you tight while Sethos lightly runs his finger back and forth over the puffy wrinkle.

“Shh, just relax. Don’t worry about them right now,” He whispers against your cheek, soft yet unrelenting at the same time. “Focus on me, habibti. There you go. Deep breaths.”

Struggling just to keep your head on straight, you blearily let your head loll back against the ground and attempt to follow his instructions. The shift makes the tears in your eyes dislodge themselves from your lash line, letting them dribble wet tracks down your face to fall off into the sand.

There was something inherently wrong about this too, of that you were certain. You’d never seen such flagrant public displays of human sexuality before coming here and the lack of shame so many of the men seemed to have about it had frightened you a great deal at first. It seemed any woman who was not strong enough to defend herself from their advances was free game but as Sethos’ betrothed you weren’t even really permitted to fight back. His right to your body was absolute and unquestionable, regardless of the time or the place. And since you were still technically an intact virgin in their eyes, doing it this way didn’t even earn the disapproval of his grandfather.

Sethos’ cleverness was unmatched though so it didn’t really come as a great surprise that he would find a suitable workaround for this. But that doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept this sort of treatment or come to terms with it when every single alarm bell was going off in the back of your mind. If it was just him you might have been more amenable — would have been when you were so easily riled up due to years of neglect, but you didn’t want the others to see you like this!

“Oh no, no, albee. Don’t cry. I’m here, don’t worry. I’ll have you all sorted out in no time, I promise.”

He shifts against you then, hand falling away to reach back for something tucked away in his sash. You had a few guesses what it might be, of course, and you just lie there sniffling sadly to yourself while he fumbles behind you for a moment before settling in again.

Cautiously lifting your head, you take care not to look too far ahead and instead focus in on Sethos’ hand and the little glass vial he’s thumbing open. You’ve been through this enough times with him to know it’s sticky olive oil thickly sloshing around inside, though he’d at times also used other kinds of impromptu lubricants when the need arose. This kind of oil was his favorite though for its effectiveness and you find that you’re a little relieved to see he had some on hand. You weren’t sure you could properly relax your muscles when you were all but thrumming like an active livewire in this humiliating situation, but the oil should at least ensure you don’t tear.

Still murmuring soft nothings to you, Sethos reaches down again and carefully upends the small bottle to allow a healthy dollop to ooze out. It lands almost smack dab in the center of your asshole and you hiss a seething sound while he sets the vial aside where it wouldn’t get knocked over.

Then he’s bringing his hand back down to eagerly rub the pads of his fingers through the clinging oil, working it into your skin. Even just that much feels good, you’re mortified to realize, and you reluctantly start to give in to the attention grabbing ache in your gut that demands you seek pleasure in some form.

While you weren’t exactly pleased to be doing this out in the open, right in front of his friends, there was no use denying that his logic in this was reasonable. You had been soothed to complacency the last time he did this to you, and the time before that, and the one before that as well. It was the closest thing to a stress reliever you could get out here when you were neither permitted to touch your own cunt or pick up a curved scimitar for you to swing around.

Even Sethos didn’t trust you that much to let you get your hands on a weapon, and that was probably for the best.

So you just make do with softly groaning through the tears tracking down your face as he works over the puffed up rim of your entrance, encouraging you to relax into it with gentle words spoken against your cheek between the kisses he places there. Not for the first time you think that Sethos will make for a very fine lover someday and you were probably lucky in that regard, but you still wished you could have chosen to be with him instead of having it decided for you.

You probably would have chosen him too, in all honesty.

“Does that feel good, beautiful?” He murmurs, prompting you to nudge your chin in a faltering nod.

“Y - yes. Will you … stick it in?”

“If that’s what you want me to do.”

He starts to lean further over you as if to fully cage you in underneath him but the shuffle of boots in the sand immediately brings his head back up. Squeaking a horrified sound, you shyly bring your hands up to cover your flustered face but even with an audience watching Sethos just keeps rubbing his sticky fingers across your puckered hole as if this were a totally normal, everyday occurrence.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss. Rahid hurt himself trying to show off so we’re going to bandage him up real quick. You want us to start a fire and make a quick lunch or …”

The ‘are you too busy fingering your future bride’ goes unspoken but the other man doesn’t really need to say it at that point. You can hear it clearly in his voice, and you whimper a dire tinged sound when Sethos starts to press in on the center of the slackened wrinkle to tease you with the suggestion of penetration.

“Yeah, you guys just relax for a while. We’ll be done soon.”

“You got it.”

As his footsteps start to retreat, you slowly lower your fingers to peer up at Sethos with a teary eyed look. “This is why I said not here …”

“Aw, come on. No harm, no foul, right? They’ve all seen worse.” Carelessly shrugging off your concerns as usual, Sethos pins you with the sparkling green of his eyes and leans into you again. “Besides, once we’re married I can have you anywhere I want and it won’t just be your cute ass I have access to then. Might as well get used to it now, huh?”

“You’re awful.”

Laughing quietly under his breath, he starts to put a bit more pressure on your entrance and you gasp when that finger starts to slip inside. One measly inch at a time, it forces your inner sleeve to expand and open up for him until he can sheathe it in you straight down to the knuckle. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a low, warbling sound of pleasure, but both of you already knew that it wasn’t enough. You’d been through this too many times for a single digit to stretch you out the way you wanted to be stretched.

Gradually sliding his hand back until just the tip of his finger remains wedged inside your puffy rim, Sethos slowly pushes back in with two this time. As he settles in to fuck you with them, you outright seethe at the sensation as much as at the sticky wet clicks he pulls from your asshole on each upward plunge. Your body greedily sucks at them and tries to take him in deeper but there’s nowhere else for him to go with his knuckles already flush to your skin.

So he soon adds a third to really stretch your hole open and it puts so much delicious pressure on your squeezing guts that you almost manage to forget where you are.

Hissing a vicious sound, you blindly reach down to curl your hand over the metal plate as if to rub yourself but of course you can’t. You just find your fingers impotently pawing over the spot where your cunt should have been while the sticky sensation of building slick seeps out of you to make a mess along the interior of it. It’s so frustrating that you could almost scream, and Sethos quickly hunches close to press his mouth against your temple when you become increasingly more agitated.

“Shhh. Just relax, habibti. We’ll have that off of you in no time and then I’ll play with your little pussy as much as you want, okay?”

“Please … stick it in, Sethos, I can’t take it anymore.”

Rumbling a low sound of pleasure, he carefully withdraws his fingers from your ass to leave it clenching around nothing while he works to get his pants unfastened. Panting heavily and clutching the front of his shirt in a death grip, you dazedly tip your head to watch him reach for the olive oil again. Another small drop directly to your asshole is quickly followed by a generous portion to his rigid cock which he pumps a few times to smear the copious liquid over it.

Then he’s finally nudging himself right up against you, using his hand to guide his length to your waiting entrance. The other wedges itself under your back to come up around on the other side, clutching you so tightly against him you can scarcely breathe. Angling his narrow hips up, he presses the fleshy head into you and begins to push inside, making your mouth drop open on a silent scream.

It felt good. So, so much better than his fingers had, and the immediate rush of ecstasy has you weakly shaking in his arms. The vibration of his masculine groan right next to your head all but has you seeing double and your head drunkenly lolls back while he works himself deeper, basking in the gradual stretch of your hole.

And he doesn’t wait for you to adjust, knowing you were already sufficiently loosened for him from all the other times you’d previously done this. He just starts thrusting, keeping his strokes evenly drawn out and steady to really make you feel the drag of him against your guts. You’re hyper aware of your sphincter weakly clinging to his length on the way out only to be forced back in on the next upward push and it drives you positively wild.

Especially when he latches onto your softly moving breast with the hand he’d wedged under your back, playing with the stiff nipple right through your shirt. Outright squealing in pleasure now, you fitfully buck your hips to push down on him and meet his plunging cock head on, earning another faltering groan from him.

“Good girl. Oooughn, that’s a good girl, beautiful. You like that? Huh? Like having my cock that deep in your ass?”

“Oh! God … h - harder, Sethos, please!”

A rattling breath puffs out of him in response but he obliges, working his flexing hips more vigorously to really drive himself into your softly squelching ass. The sharp sound of skin smacking against skin rises louder in the air as he drills into you with enough force to really make your tits bounce now. And his other hand quickly comes up to fumble with the hem of your top, shoving it out of the way to expose your chest.

Keening a delighted sound when he bends his head close to capture one of the bobbing nipples in his mouth, you carefully bring your head up to peer out over the sand dune. Sure enough, his friends are sitting around a small campfire some few yards away and they were definitely still within ear shot. But their attention largely remains locked ahead, focusing on whatever they were busying themselves with rather than the sordid display happening just behind them, and you’re reminded once again how different the rules of the desert actually are compared to that of the rainforest. Something like this would never fly in Sumeru City, surely.

But here it’s as if it’s so commonplace that even your shrill feminine cries don’t draw their glances. It was just as Sethos said. They’d seen much worse, had heard much worse and had likely done much worse themselves. Watching you get your ass stretched out on Sethos’ cock wasn’t even all that interesting to them, evidently.

Mewling a frazzled sound, you let your head fall back as you blindly reach down for your cunt again. Even knowing it’s an effort in futility isn’t quite enough to stop you from trying to follow through on the instinctive compulsion, and a pitiful whimper escapes you when your fingers just glance over cool, unfeeling metal. You could tell you were positively soaked through though, and you would be glad to return to the Temple to bathe.

But luckily you still feel the internal pressure within you steadily building even without being able to play with your pussy to help it along. Sethos does an excellent job of that between his pistoning cock and the concerted efforts of his mouth and hands on your tits. It’s almost as if in not being able to derive any pleasure from your cunt, every other erogenous zone on your body was all the more sensitive for it. Your nipples achingly throb in time with the rhythmic pulse in your ass, mirroring your wild heartbeat thrice over, and it doesn’t take long for you to reach the tipping point like this.

What finally sends you over the edge is Sethos, in all his cunning wisdom, taking pinching hold of both stiff teats and giving them a sharp twist. You plaintively squeal, back bowing dramatically to angle your pelvis just right to have him jabbing up at the perfect spot inside your guts. You cum with a violent shudder, wailing a stricken sound as your ass sporadically squeezes around him to milk everything it could get out of the orgasm.

That warm flutter of your walls squeezing around him seems to all but steal the oxygen right out of Sethos’ lungs and he wheezes, lurching against you with a wounded groan. His thrusts turn sloppy and uneven while he chases that pinprick high until he cums too, giving a sudden, fitful jerk to accompany the twitch of his cock where it’s buried deep inside you.

You haven’t even had enough time to recover from your own release yet and the sensation of him shooting off in your ass, painting your interior creamy and white, pulls an overwrought sound from your rattling chest. But then it’s over, just like that, and the two of you lay there for a long moment, panting against one another as the endorphin buzz settles over you.

Finally lifting his head to look you in the face again, Sethos reaches up to thoughtlessly push all that excess of thick hair back over his shoulder where it had started to slide forward. “Feeling any better now?”

It takes a good deal of effort not to roll your eyes but you abstain for the simple fact that … you did feel better, actually. “I hate to admit it and run the risk of further inflating your ego, but yes. I do. Are you happy?”

“Very.” He grins at you, leaning close to give the end of your nose a quick, playful kiss. “You’re always a much better listener when your body is happy.”

You can’t help but frown slightly at that. “What do you mean? I always listen to you. It’s not like I really have much of a choice.”

“Well, yes, but there’s a difference between listening and listening, if you know what I mean. Come on. You’re smart. You get what I’m trying to say, right?”

“I suppose so. What did you want to say then?”

Humming a soft little sound under his breath, Sethos pushes up on his elbow so he can look down at you, smiling that deceptively unassuming smile again. “I just wanted you to know that I understand where you’re coming from. Really, I do. I’d be pretty unhappy too if I were in your shoes, but we don’t need to make this any harder than it needs to be. Once I take over for grandfather, I’ll be happy to give you all the freedom you want. I wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to go back to the rainforest sometime.”

Your eyes go big and round, so caught off guard by what he’s saying that for a long moment you’re not quite sure what to say. Was he serious or … was this some sort of cruel trap?

“Really? You actually mean that?”

“Mhm! You’d just have to promise to come back, that’s all. You’ll still be my wife, you know.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #sethos #sethos x reader #self insert bullshit

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vpgoldenrod · 1 year ago

Text

Aziraphale's Haunted Look: On Being Forcibly Outed and Exiled From The Garden

While we're all talking about Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss, I'm surprised by those who thought Aziraphale looked disgusted because that's not an emotion I'd seen in him at all. There's sadness, and confusion, and anger, but I couldn't remember seeing disgust. When I watched the scene again I realized there's something else going on that really struck a chord with me. It's an uncomfortably familiar look.

He feels exposed. And I know what it feels like to be exposed in such a violent and intimate way.

Stay with me, I promise this is relevant to my analysis.

I didn't know what being transgender meant when I was a kid. Being raised in a fundamentalist Christian house meant that I wasn't exposed to those ideas, so I lived my life feeling like something was always just kind of broken. It was like I was looking right through the problem at other things, trying to alleviate symptoms without understanding why they existed in the first place. I eventually met other trans people, who gently nudged me in the direction of my truth. I even became aware that I had experienced some minor dysphoria. Every time I came close to acknowledging the truth however, my eyes would once again begin to glaze over the problem. I always managed to subconsciously shove it back into a little box and move on with my life. It was like I accidentally “did a big miracle” and hid this truth from myself so well that I continually forgot it was there.

Til one day I had an encounter that changed everything.

We're friends now but oddly enough, it was only meant to be a fling. I won't go into too many details because it's not just my story, but it was a lovely time that culminated with us meeting and doing what adults do. The person I was with, a cis man, silently clocked me the minute we were face to face. For reasons I now understand, without warning and in the middle of our shared intimate experience, he decided to talk dirty to me as if I were a gay man.

No one had ever spoken to me like that before. It had never occurred to me to ask anyone to do that, or that anyone would want to. I was in an intimate space and filled with the typical emotions and endorphins one has during sex, but it was a fling. I had walls up. So for the first time in my life, in this incredibly vulnerable position, someone grabbed me by my lapels and forced me to face a deep truth about myself that I'd spent decades silently dancing around. It was a blunt, irrefutable truth and it hit like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. He saw me when I was very much not trying to be seen, and there's few things more terrifying than that.

Even now, years later, I have such a hard time putting into words the overwhelming emotions I felt that night. There were so many, and yet somehow I can see every single one of the emotions I felt in Aziraphale's face when Crowley lets him go. My heart breaks all over again seeing how exposed he felt. He can barely make eye contact until he stumbles onto the one emotion that gives him his agency back: anger.

Gabriel shows up to the bookshop completely naked. When a bewildered Aziraphale points it out Gabriel says, “Who told you I was naked?”

But that's not how the story goes.

God looks for Adam in the garden, but he hides from her. He eventually tells God, “I heard your voice in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid myself.”

Then God asks Adam, “Who told you you were naked?” And of course Adam knows he is naked because he ate the apple.

I've made jokes about Crowley being the apple that bit Aziraphale, but I forgot the bit that happens afterwards. He is aware of his own nakedness. He is exposed. To God, to Crowley, and to himself. As a result he is exiled from the safety of his Eden. Man, if this isn't the perfect analogy for being forcibly outed I don't know what is.

This show is so gay you guys.

#michael sheen deserves an emmy and also a hug #good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #do it again #neil gaiman #good omens analysis #amazon prime video #pay your actors #good omens spoilers #michael sheen #LGBT+

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doberbutts · 3 months ago

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about your TME/Imane Khelif post, i believe i can provide some answers (im not transfem myself but im very interested in transfeminism)

first of all, no oppressed/oppressor binary is going to be perfect. POC/white is a useful distinction, but last summer a white man was killed after being mistaken for being arab. a straight man may be harassed for hugging his male friend and being seen as gay, etc. TME/TMA are useful terms to describe the way transmisogyny operates in society, even though like all oppressions, things can occasionally get muddled IRL. it doesn't make those terms useless or incorrect. to go back to the harassed straight man example, that man would certainly be a VICTIM of homophobia, but that doesn't make him gay, or mean that he doesn't have any heterosexual privilege at all.

(you said imane khelif may be sent to jail IF she's ruled not to be enough of a woman. horrifying prospect of course, but that IF is doing a lot! a trans woman would not have that IF!)

just wanted to provide that perspective since you asked very genuinely and thoughtfully. have a nice day

I appreciate the good faith response!!! This is exactly the sort of discussion I was looking for.

I am mostly on board - I have discussed at length how these social categories are muddy at best and do not operate on strict lines, and that people in general are impossible to place into neatly sorted boxes. Similar to your first example, I reference frequently a past love of mine who was white but often mistaken for mixed asian (usually chinese/white) due to his monolids, facial structure, and facial hair pattern. Despite being a white guy, he had numerous encounters with racists that ended quite violently for him, and as a result was probably one of the most sensitive white guys I've ever dated regarding race.

Being mistaken for being chinese, while not actually being chinese himself, is not at all the same as actually being chinese. I certainly agree. However, I think it is wrong to say that sinophobia does not affect him or that he is exempt from sinophobia because he has the ability to say "hey wait a second I'm not chinese I'm white". Mostly because any time he tried to do that, it didn't work, and he still got beaten up anyway.

And I also don't think it means he has no white privilege at all- certainly, we experienced it as a couple in real time because while he could be mistaken as a man of color, I absolutely am one without question. And, furthermore, I'm visibly black, not just "of color", which makes people really double down on the racism. Case in point, any time I parked my car in the visitor spot next to his apartment door, the landlord would run out of their office to chase me away stating the spot was only for approved visitors. Even though she saw me entering and exiting his residence in her pursuit to make me move my car. The town he lived in is less than 2% black, and these were luxury apartments that did not have a single black person in the building he specifically lived in. He could live there, but I couldn't even visit without being harassed.

Similarly, as I said in my post, I can see the logic of stating that there is privilege there even though Khelif is in a difficult situation currently, because yes, she can provide a birth certificate and a blood test and a genital check and be cleared of all accusations. I just think that being forced to submit to embarrassing and invasive testing, as well as being forced to provide personal documents, and having the world weigh in on the judgement of your gender, is not really a good literal get-out-of-jail-free card. It is certainly a leg up that she has the ability to do so. I do not think it is right that she should have to- but then I don't see the problem with trans women competing alongside cis women. I think it's stupid that sports are divided by gender and not by weight/height/proficiency.

And I think that forcing specifically women of color who oddly enough seem to be the vast majority of these cases (esp black women and esp esp black intersex women who didn't even know they were intersex before but w/e) to prove that they're woman enough to be qualified as women is racial violence with interphobia and transphobia as the weapon. Intersectionality and all that.

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creedslove · 1 year ago

Text

RE-ENCOUNTER 🎨

Marcus Pike x f!reader

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

Summary: you and Marcus had a brief but loving marriage, until it wasn't anymore. Choosing an amicable divorce you both moved on with your lives until destiny made you run into each other once more, with a difference this time: your ex-husband was engaged now

Warnings: mentions of divorce, a little bit of angst, fluff, some jealousy, age gap (their ages are not specified but he's 10 years older than her)

A/N: besties, I'm so happy I finally managed to write something for our husband Pike. I've always wanted to do so, but I knew I couldn't just force myself into it otherwise it wouldn't work properly, and just like that, this idea came up and I couldn't get it out of my mind ❤️ also, I know some people don't like age gap, but I can't imagine reader being Marcus age mostly because reader is me 🥴 and also because it would make sense to the story, so although it's not specified, I pictured them getting married around early 20s(reader) early 30s (Pike) and running into each other again around late 20s/early 30s (reader) and late 30s/early 40s (Pike)

3.9k words

You weren't fond of getting married young, to you, it sounded nothing like madness, as you simply couldn't wrap your head around the fact that people often abdicated from their lives, plans and dreams to get stuck in a relationship. It made no sense to you, especially since you had been working your ass off during all your years in college, the prospect of having a successful and promising career motivated you to go after your dreams. Relationships, marriages, building up families hadn't crossed your mind at all, a little affair with a cute guy here and there were the only things that ever got remotely close to dating, at the same time you only saw yourself as someone who wouldn't settle down.

And that was before Marcus Pike walked into your life.

If someone asked you to explain what exactly happened, perhaps you wouldn't be able to understand it yourself let alone explain it to someone, but that man swept you off your feet. You'd met him during a history of art lecture at campus one Thursday evening. He had just joined the FBI in the art department, fresh in his new job but still assisting his former professor and mentor in college lectures. He was probably ten or so years older than you, and yet, you couldn't keep your eyes off him. He was by far the most handsome man you'd seen in those four long years you'd spent in that institution, there was something so captivating in his beautiful eyes, his breathtaking smile and how smart and sweet he was towards anyone. And he caught you staring; it seemed you took his attention as much as he took yours, and even if you needed that lecture for extra credit, you couldn't give a single crap about medieval art, because that man was everything you could see in front of you. That was so unlike your personality, usually, you'd be focused on everything else, but you simply couldn't look away from that handsome assistant.

When the lecture was finally over, you were sure you'd missed at least half of it, being too busy concentrating on someone else instead of the subject, you still had a few doubts about the matter and you walked to the stage, willing to ask the professor some questions and clarify any doubts you had, and that was the moment you both locked eyes for the first time. The handsome guy that caught your attention, whose name was Marcus, soon found out the moment you shook hands and realized how big his was compared to yours and how truly handsome he was, even more so than you had already noticed when you were a few meters away. He was also mesmerized by you and he couldn't hide it, he knew you were younger than him, but at that moment all he could process was how gorgeous and smart that girl was in front of him. He kept around while you talked to his mentor, being polite enough not to interrupt him but holding himself back so he wouldn't add his own comments. He just wanted an excuse to talk to you, see if he could approach and see where things could go, so the moment he had the opportunity to be with you alone for a while, he immediately threw his charms - and Marcus was a charming guy - in your first conversation you liked how intelligent and nice he was, he made you laugh and when he invited you to have pancakes some dinner nearby the campus, you couldn't say no.

And that was the beginning of your love story.

Everything you believed went through the roof from the moment you met Marcus. He was incredible, the most fascinating man you'd met and whereas he was older than you, that only seemed to spice things up both in the sexual and emotional sense. You had never been treated like that before, he made you feel like a queen, as cheesy as it may sound, that's just how you felt through your relationship with Marcus. He was a gentleman, sweet and he didn't know what to do in order to please you; he went slowly at first, even if his intentions were clear from the very first time you went out to eat, he was a little afraid you would be weirded out by him, and he couldn't be further from the truth. Each time he took you out on a date, it felt like you were living the plot of any sweet but cliche rom com movie. It felt just too good to be true and a part of you feared that it wouldn't work. But it did, for as long as it lasted.

The dates with Marcus were so special, he was thoughtful and he always made sure to take you somewhere nice; it was either a nice restaurant so you could get to know their different menu, or art galleries in which he would show you his favorite works and tell you as much as you wanted to hear about them. He was always afraid of boring you with his subjects but on the contrary, you always enjoyed listening to him talk, it was entertaining, soothing and you could spend hours watching how his eyes sparkled whenever he addressed anything he truly enjoyed. And even if he put some effort into them, your favorite date by far was whenever you two would spend some time just hanging out together in his apartment. Dim lights, old movies on TV and Marcus' protective grip around your body, always pulling you closer and making sure you were warm in his embrace for the rest of the night.

The first kiss you shared with him after you both went to the movies together. It was a classic movie rerun and even if Casablanca wasn't your favorite, you knew he enjoyed it, and seeing it on a big screen was definitely a nice experience. Besides, he promised you that once Titanic hit the theaters in the next classic session, he would definitely take you.

At the end of the movie, you walked out the theater holding hands, you were silent, but instead of reflecting over the story you'd just watched you reflected over your relationship with Marcus; you were falling deeper and deeper for him, deeper and more intensely than you ever thought you would, and when he stopped and placed your hands on your hips you couldn't resist being kissed by him.

It felt right.

The first night you both spent together was right after he took you to see the concert of his former band; he'd left the band when he graduated from college, but he still remained friends with the guys and eventually enjoyed visiting them on stage. And that night he insisted on taking his bass for a last ride and even risked a song on the microphone, all of that for you.

By then, there was no fighting or convincing otherwise, you were head over heels for Marcus; especially when you two had sex for the first time after that. One could think Marcus is too soft, but not when it comes to that; he knows how to act, how to please and how to demand what he wants and after you tried him, a real man, there was no way you could go back to college boys ever again.

Your relationship evolved fast and in less than a year he proposed to you; he was sure you were what he wanted in the future, just as you had thrown away all your beliefs and you'd surrounded yourself completely to the man you loved, so you said yes. Even if your whole life you said you wouldn't get married, not while young at least, not without having a consistent, successful career.

And there you were, fresh out of college, with very little work experience, a job in an area you didn't want but had to take in order to gather experience and knowledge and walking down the aisle in a white dress, feeling as happy as you could be, in order to become Mrs.Pike. The honeymoon had to be in Paris, a few people told you that couldn't be more cliche, and even if they meant it out of spite or if they were actually right, it didn't really matter to you; it felt so right for the two of you. Surrounded by art constantly during the day and making love at night, it was like a dream coming true, and you remember hoping your entire marriage would be like that: light, fun, full of love and happiness. And it was until it wasn't anymore.

You couldn't tell exactly when things started to go downhill, but if you had to guess, it would probably be due to the lack of time you both faced towards the end of your relationship. It just started getting harder after about a year, when the two of you really began struggling for your own careers. You, in your area, and Marcus with the FBI, it seemed to have become an obsession for you both, as date nights, walks in the park and gallery visitations simply stopped happening in order to focus on your extra tasks, overtime, solving cases. At some point it became a looping of excuses and promises to spend more time together:

"We'll go next weekend honey"

"We can have dinner together tomorrow"

"I promise I'll take you with me next time"

Needless to say, they never truly happened.

Just as you two distanced yourselves without even realizing, the bickering also started, adding another venomous sting to your relationship. Suddenly, small things turned into bigger ones, sources of stress and fights; if someone ever told you one day you'd have heated arguments with Marcus over a dropped sock, or an unwashed plate on the sink, you would call them crazy, but when that unfortunately happened to the two of you, you were shocked for a while, not believing you had become the kind of couple to argue over stupid things like those. It was heartbreaking. As you two barely had time for each other, sex was also off the table most nights, being too tired to do anything else other than sleep, Marcus suddenly came up with the idea of having a baby; he had a deep hope of fixing your marriage by getting you pregnant, after all, having kids had always been part of his plan and he was sure it was part of yours too.

At the same time you hadn't really thought it through. Technically, you had. You wanted kids. At some point, in the future, it wasn't rocket science to figure that adding a baby to a troubled marriage could not be the best idea. And yet, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him that, not when you saw the spike of excitement in his eyes, not when he held you and kissed you like in the beginning of your relationship, how he made time for you even if his FBI work was killing him, he still managed to bring you flowers, kiss you and made love to you. Perhaps he was trying to save your marriage, or he was just trying for the baby, you weren't so sure, but you could see the effort. And it was why it broke your heart to know you couldn't get pregnant at that moment, not with your job finally taking you places, the new opportunity of actually building a career and how young you still thought you were, being married was hard, but it was about you and Marcus, two adults who could handle yourselves but a baby? It was way too much responsibility. You couldn't find a way to tell him that, even if you were being a coward, it pained you you felt so hopeless to simply lie to Marcus and tell him you'd stopped taking your birth control pills, and even more so each time he looked at you with those disappointed, sad eyes, month after month of excitement and longing for that baby to be there, just to get a negative test after another. It was eating you up alive and after his insistence on taking you to a doctor - which you immediately refused - he managed to find your hidden stash of pills among your stuff. You tried explaining everything to him; how you weren't ready, you were scared and how broken you'd been at seeing him so upset. You cried, you opened your heart to Marcus and told him you wanted to be a mom to his child, some day, not at that moment, but in the future because things were finally working for the two of you once more. But you had lied to your husband, and lying to Marcus had no turning back.

He had no other option other than asking for a divorce after you lied and broke his heart, he felt upset, he could've forgiven you for many things, but not for playing with his heart when it came to the kids he dreamed of every single day.

You were tired, upset and at some point during your divorce process you'd convinced yourself you didn't love him anymore, but the reality was that you were just so empty you weren't able to feel things, you were numb.

The day you both signed the divorce papers in front of your lawyer and you were questioned whether you two wanted to go ahead with that decision, your heart shattered into a million pieces, more than any fights, when you heard Marcus' justification to why he was asking for the divorce.

"I'd rather get divorced while still loving you, than remaining together and risking to hate you"

When you heard those words, you had a sudden urge to get up and tear those papers into pieces, tell him you were both making a huge mistake, that toyover him and that you could make it work, you wanted to tell him you still had a beautiful future ahead of you, you and the gorgeous family you would have together. And the moment you took a deep breath to finally say all that out loud, you looked at Marcus signing the papers and officializing the divorce.

That was the last time you saw your ex-husband Marcus Pike, you just had no idea the next time you would run into him again would be in a few years later, while he was taking his new fiancee on a date.

•••

Marcus sighed as he could see the lack of excitement in Teresa's face the moment they got to the exhibit, he just didn't know why she agreed to go out with him if she didn't like it, it would be so much easier for the two of them if she was honest and told him she'd rather stay home and read a magazine, that way they would both be happy, and Marcus wouldn't have the feeling he was trying too hard all the time. Teresa liked him, she must have liked him, otherwise she wouldn't have accepted his proposal and moved to DC with him. It was still early, she'd been there for a few weeks but he was confident things would work. He was hitting his forties now, one divorce, no kids and even if he finally got the position he had not only dreamed of but also worked so hard for in his dream job, he still felt something was missing. It took him a failed marriage to realize that money wasn't everything he needed, he simply missed the family he never had.

When he found Teresa he was still trying to pick the pieces of his heart, still trying to make things work on his own and when he saw her - an attractive, mature and intelligent woman, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be alone this time. You'd been the love of his life, he was convinced of that, but you two had gone way too fast and too intense, you were still young, you had so much to live so it made sense to him he would let you go and be free. He vowed himself not to rush into things, but this time it wasn't his choice, he was liking Teresa more and more and even if they weren't compatible most of the time, but when the opportunity of a lifetime came up he had to take his chances and she'd said yes. Still a little unsure and divided between him and Jane, but she said yes.

As they walked through the exhibit, he paid close attention to all the beautiful paintings scattered around the long hallways. He loved that atmosphere, the pictures so beautifully made by talented hands years or sometimes centuries ago.

"So it's just flowers?!" Teresa broke the silence as she looked around unimpressed and dragged his attention back to reality

"It's not just flowers, it's Monet… don't you like it? You told me you liked his paintings on our first date.." Marcus stated confused until the realization that she was just lying so she wouldn't appear ignorant or perhaps try to impress him a little. He saw how she cleared her throat and tried fixing what she just said but he stopped listening the moment he caught a glimpse of someone else crossing the same room and standing next to Rouen Cathedral, admiring it intently. He didn't even need to look twice to know it was you. You, who always loved that painting, even if it wasn't Monet's best in your ex-husband's opinion, you who had a fascination with old constructions such as cathedrals and would always snap several pictures of them, you, who was never exceptional at art but managed to get by and eventually fell more and more in love with art because of Marcus, not because you wanted to impress him or have him thinking you were smart, but because he actually made you see why he had that passion for it. And the moment that you turned around, his heart skipped a beat.

You looked the same, and yet, you also managed to look even more beautiful; more mature, more confident in yourself and for a brief moment Marcus was frozen in time, it was just like the first time he saw you, in which he could only see you in front of him and nothing else. He had no idea you still had that effect on him, it was so unusual and surprising and even if he had stalked your social media profiles here and there over the course of your separation, even if he wasn't proud of it, it was completely different than seeing you right there in front of him. He wasn't sure what to do, should he approach you? Talk to you? Pretend he didn't see you?

However, he didn't time to think any further about it, not when you turned around and spotted him, your eyes widening at the moment you saw him. Much to your surprise your heart also raced at the sight of your ex-husband. Was it your mind playing tricks or was he even more handsome? You hadn't planned on approaching him, but you felt as if you were being taken involuntarily towards him.

"Marcus?! Hi!" You said with a sweet smile as he politely greeted you, expressing how surprised he was to see you and even more so to actually talk to you

"Wow, you look great… So beautiful" he smiled as you blushed softly and giggled

"You too, still very handsome… so what brings you to D-" you interrupted by a woman who walked in and wrapped her arm around his waist. She eyed you up and down, even if she still tried to be polite and discreet about it. You swallowed hard feeling awkward and Marcus turned to the other woman

"This is Teresa, my fiancee and this is my ex-wife" he cleared his throat as he said your name and Teresa simply nodded her head. You returned the gesture and the moment you meant to ask him a question she barged in

"You're his ex-wife? But you're so young…" you could see the light pink spreading through his cheek and groaned at how dumb she really was.

"Yeah, I'm younger than him… and are you a little older than Marcus?" You returned the sting with the same amount of poison and she scoffed, looking at him and groaned

"I'll go to the restroom" she said without looking into your eyes and walked away, making you chuckle as Marcus shot you a questioning look which you just shrugged and went back to the question that was lingering on your mind

"So, what are you doing here in DC? Having a romantic getaway or vacations?"

"Actually, I've moved here after I was promoted to the head of the new art department" he said with his typical smile and you could see how his eyes crinkled, your heart warming up as you expressed genuine surprise and happiness to know that. You were a witness to how hard he had worked for that and it just filled your heart with pride to know he made it. You weren't sure how to act, perhaps it wasn't right, but you had already wrapped your arms around his neck and given him probably the tightest hug you'd ever done. Even if it was brief, you couldn't help but feel how built up he was, how stronger he'd become and his characteristic scent made you so warm on the inside, it felt like you could've stayed forever in his embrace.

"I'm so happy for you, Marcus! Honestly, you deserve it! I know I haven't been the most supportive wife and I'm very sorry about everything that happened, I should've been nicer to you, but well, all I'm trying to say is that I'm so proud of you!"

You said wholeheartedly and even if there were so many other things you needed to tell him, you knew it wasn't the right time and place. He just smiled and nodded, taking your hands into his big ones and thanking you for the support.

"Do you think we could grab a coffee or something? Just catch up?"

"I'd love to, but I don't know if it's a good idea, I mean, I can tell Teresa isn't my biggest fan and being honest with you, I wouldn't like my fiance's ex-wife around very much, but it's amazing to see you Marcus, truly, it makes me glad to know you are somewhat closer" you smiled again but let go of his hands the moment Teresa returned. Once more she just lingered around him, almost territorial as if she wanted to show you who owned Marcus. He also felt that, and it made him quite uncomfortable, so he cleared his throat and looked at you, saying goodbye and explaining they had dinner reservations.

As you watched them both leave, you felt a pang in your chest, thinking of the wonderful place he was probably taking her, the elaborate dates he had planned, the beautiful family they would probably build together. It could've been you, it was you for a while, unlike he might have thought you wanted all that with him, but it took you a divorce to realize it was a situation of the right person, wrong time. Perhaps if you tried again, it would work, you would like it to work, but Marcus had moved on, found himself someone he cared about and you had no right to break his heart and ruin his happiness once more.

____

A/N: my besties, I really hope you enjoyed it! I don't know if this is just a one-shot or if there'll be a continuation but I am so happy how this turned out. I love Marcus and I'm so happy our handsome FBI boyfriend finally got his own piece here! ❤️ remember that feedback is life, I'd love to hear what you all thought of it ❤️

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal imagine #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x y/n #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike one shot

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reorientation · 5 months ago

Note

I'm ftm and I've been on HRT for 5 years, had top surgery and I generally pass really well. My passport says I'm male, too. But until very recently, I never even saw a real cock in person, despite being a fairly horny person - I've only had sex with two people, both afab and transmasc as well. Ironically, I was the dom-ish one in both of these relationships, too.

But... I kept spending a lot of time online browsing through humiliation and misgendering porn. Reddit, tumblr, all that stuff. I kept fantasizing about being used like that. The rougher the better. I've got so many fantasies about it.

It took me a long time to finally install grindr. First, I chickened out and uninstalled it. And then installed again. Uninstalled. Installed.

And one night, around midnight, I started writing with someone. He lived 5 minutes from me. Told me I could come for a quick discreet fuck, just that, like I'm a fleshlight. And... I did. I went out, came to his house, got bent over and for maybe 8 minutes, he fucked my pussy, groped my ass and made me feel like a toy.

I loved it.

I didn't even get to cum, obviously. He didn't even ask for my name until afterwards. And then I told him to hit me up if he ever needs to unload again. It was my first cock ever, first one I've seen and first one I've let inside my most private parts, and the first cock even saw me as a fleshlight because that's how I advertised myself.

I kept grindr on my phone after that. I'm not using it too much, but it's there, waiting for me. And I did have a few more encounters after this one. I guess it awoken the slut inside me...

While this first guy used a condom, I was quick to find a second one. And I was so horny that I let him cum inside me (he even took some pics). I'm not on any contraception apart from T, which isn't contraception, and I'm scared like hell of getting pregnant. So afterwards, I had an awkward pharmacy talk, because I came in and said 'I need emergency contraception', they asked if it's for me, they stared at me and said 'it's for females'. I didn't sleep at all this night (because he was too busy with my body...) and I stood there like a dumb bitch for a few seconds while the guy (he came with me) said 'he's female' and that unlocked something in my brain and I said I'm trans.

Today, I might get fucked raw by another guy again. I had enough brains to get on birth control after that awkward pharmacy talk but apparently not enough brains to stop offering my cunt to strangers...

Oh also it's the ftm who just send you a long ask about fucking people from grindr and having an awkward pharmacy talk and possibly fucking another stranger tonight, I thought I should add some kind of name so you know who I am so uhmmm I guess my deadname would be a good fit and knowing you know it along with the fact that I'm offering my pussy to strangers will be kinda hot. So hi, I'm Alice uhh, and nobody used this name for me in years...

🎵One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small 🎵

Except for you, Alice, I suppose it's "keeps you small" - without that little pill, you might already be swelling. 🖤

Sometimes things happen very fast, don't they? You hadn't even seen a cock in real life, for all those years, and then just a few days after you sent your first Grindr message, you were out in public listening to the man who'd just fucked his cum into you tell a stranger that you're female.

How did it feel to have them looking at you, Alice? To feel their eyes on you and realize that they knew you had a fresh load of cum inside your pussy. To realize that after all your efforts to pass, you still ended up having to admit that you have a fertile womb, and that a real man had put his seed into it.

It felt good, didn't it? Being a cumdump, and having them know it. Being humiliated in public because you'd been so desperate to give your pussy to a stranger. Having them see right through your identity to the needy little cunt underneath.

But maybe they're not seeing through anything. You've been dreaming of "misgendering" and letting men use you as a fleshlight without even asking your name. Maybe this is your new identity - not a man, just a needy little cunt.

#kink interactions #reorientation writing #reor: anon ask #ftm misgendering kink #ftm girl #ftm detransition kink #ftm breeding #reor: anon life story #reor: grindr alice

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unknownperson246 · 5 months ago

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can you write izzy dating an older woman, please?

Hii hope you enjoy it 💋.

Young For Me

words: 1,024

warnings: *fluff* *age gap* *use of alcohol* *cussing* *excuse the grammar*

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ It was the year 1991 when you were 36 and your boyfriend Izzy was 29. Izzy kept the both of you out of the public eye because he was scared about people discussing your relationship. Izzy is a quiet and private guy and you're a quiet and reserved woman. You both would like to keep it that way. You were sitting in Izzy's apartment. Izzy was a funny, soft, and sweet man but his fans see him as a serious person. He has only shown a comforting personality to the people he is close to.

“Izzy I want to go out hon” You announce to Izzy.

“You sure Y/N I mean us going together in public will create speculation,” Izzy says.

“Maybe it's time we should go out in public you know? I want people to see us together at least once,” you suggest.

“Okay just this once but we have to be careful okay? I don’t want the paparazzi or random people taking photos of us” Izzy says.

Izzy throws on his leather jacket underneath his white v-neck. You both put on your helmets that were hanging on Izzy's motorcycle. You get on the back of his motorcycle. Izzy gets in front of you. You start to straddle your boyfriend. You finally get to his favorite place to eat.

“Luckily no one has recognized me yet,” Izzy says with his sunglasses on.

The waitress comes over.

“Here is your menu, just order whenever you're ready.” The waitress says with a smile on her face.

You both decide what you want and order it. Someone from another table approaches you and Izzy.

“Hi I'm a huge fan,” She says trying not to squeal at Izzy

“Can I get an autograph?” She asks kindly.

“Sure,” Izzy says smiling.

The fan leaves to go get a paper and a pen and Izzy gets very nervous that if one person already recognized him that soon there would probably be paparazzi storming around the two of you.

“Izzy it's going to be okay this isn't a large crowd so we're not going to be recognized by the paparazzi,” You say reassuringly while holding his hand.

The fan comes back after a couple of moments and the fan hands Izzy the piece of paper and the pen.

“What's your name?” Izzy asks her.

“It's Katie,” She says smiling.

Izzy swiftly signs the paper. It has his signature on it and it says.

“To Katie from Izzy”

Izzy smiles and returns the paper and pen to Katie.

“Have a nice day Izzy” Katie says smiling.

“You too,” Izzy says to her softly.

“See I told you it'd be fine Iz,” You say softly.

“I know some encounters with fans were bad because they were assholes,” You say to Izzy.

“Yeah biggest assholes I've ever seen,” Izzy says nervously.

You both finished your lunch together and hopped on the bike to head home. While driving home someone shouts something mean to you and Izzy.

“How come an old woman like you is dating a nice young man?” Someone shouts from another car.

You don't say anything back instead you just flip the fucker off. Once you get home you open the door and put your helmet down in a frustrated manner.

“Izzy I don't think we should date anymore I'm too old for you,” You say insecurely.

“Look at me Y/N who the fuck cares. It doesn't matter what anyone says as long as we both love each other that should be enough.” Izzy explains to you.

“You sure im not too old for you Izzy?” You ask.

“No, age doesn't matter you're perfect for me hon, and im perfect for you,” Izzy says reassuringly.

You start to smile and you guys cuddle in the bedroom while watching a movie. Izzy starts to have a flashback to when you guys met.

*FLASHBACK*

Izzy had never dated an older woman before and he wasn't planning on it. Once he saw you it changed his perspective. You were gorgeous and there was something about you that was so alluring. You had gorgeous blonde hair with brown eyes and you had a barbed wire tattoo like Pamela Anderson. You were wearing a skirt with heels and a black leather jacket. Izzy loved your sense of style ever since he first saw you at the bar you worked at. Izzy went up to you and started to flirt with you.

“Hey a gorgeous lady like you shouldn't be working in a bar you should be a model. Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks you with a cup of wine in his hand.

“No I’m single” You reply to him.

“Well, how about we go out on a date?” Izzy asks you.

“Sorry, but I think you're a little too young for me”. You chuckle at him.

“Well if you don't mind me asking how old are you?”

“I’m 34,” you say to him.

“Wow, something about you is just very attractive and alluring. I didn't expect you to be 34 but I don't care you're too beautiful but you're very gorgeous so please give me a chance?” Izzy asks.

“I love your tattoo by the way,” Izzy says.

“I like yours too, So what are your tattoo's meanings?” You say to Izzy after seeing one tattoo on his right arm and one on his left arm.

Izzy explains that one of his tattoos is his band and the other one was just a cool design with his name on it.

You start to blush with all the compliments Izzy was showering you with.

“What's your name?” you ask him.

“My name is Izzy Stradlin” He replies to your question.

“What do you do for a living?” You ask him

“I’m a guitarist in a band well more specifically a rhythm guitarist.” He says smirking

“That’s hot,” You say to him while coming close to him and giving him a peck on his cheek.

Ever since then, you guys got to know each other more and you eventually moved in with Izzy and pursued your dream of becoming a model.

*END OF FLASHBACK*

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the-obnoxious-sibling · 8 months ago

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What would happen if buggy stayed with shanks? Who he would be? How their dynamic would work out? Would they be happy?

*sighs*

anon, you’ve successfully identified my roman empire. literally the second post i ever made about shuggy was ultimately about this question.

two possibilities i've considered (one i think adheres pretty close to canon, and one a "slightly better communication skills than canon" au) under the cut.

if shanks avoided the topic of going to laugh tale, or if buggy decided to hide his outrage and go with shanks post-roguetown, i think they’d be low-key miserable for a long time.

buggy's skulking around with a powerful ofmd s1 izzy hands energy, furious at any perceived disrespect, while shanks could not care less about people laughing at him. half the time buggy is yelling at enemies for disrespecting them, half the time he’s yelling at shanks for disrespecting himself. the crew does not understand why buggy is their first mate if he hates shanks so much.

but hell no, neither of them is going to acknowledge that this (that they) might not be working. shanks can laugh off any discomfort, ignore any awkwardness, if it keeps his best friend at his side. and buggy gave up his pride to stay with shanks! he can be quietly (or not-so-quietly) bitter about it but he’s not going to give up now.

so buggy joins luffy in his sulking disappointment after that first interaction with the mountain bandits. “yeah, it’s embarrassing,” he admits, “but that’s how shanks is. he doesn’t care what people think.”

luffy asks why buggy stays with shanks, if he’s so embarrassing. buggy’s cool and tough, he could be a pirate captain in his own right!

buggy doesn’t have an answer for him—until that second encounter with the mountain bandits. the teary-eyed look on luffy’s face when shanks declares that no one hurts a friend of his? …yeah, maybe that’s why he stays with shanks.

shanks losing his arm for luffy and giving luffy roger’s hat is a turning point, one way or the other. this is the straw that breaks the camel’s back, and either buggy snaps and goes his own way… or his personal truth comes out, and he and shanks have to actually address it before they can move forward.

(in the timeline where buggy leaves, luffy runs into him around the same time as their first canon interaction, and he is even more bitter about the hat. luffy takes buggy's behavior a little more personally, too, since he knows about buggy’s connection to shanks, and he knows buggy knows how much the hat means to him, and to shanks before him. it’s very messy.)

(in the timeline where buggy stays, buggy as first mate to emperor shanks is a lot more like the cackling little gremlin he was on roger’s ship. worse, he’s downright smug. try and disrespect us all you like—we’re one of the four biggest, toughest crews around, nyeh! …sure, some people call us the weakest of the four, but we’re also the youngest! it's only a matter of time before we overtake those guys! just you wait!!

and the crew has learned by now that if shanks is wearing one of his patient, fond smiles while buggy rants then there's nothing to worry about.

they may not be perfectly at ease—buggy doesn’t like this self-sacrificing streak of shanks’, shanks would like buggy to be a bit nicer to people, and buggy might still be in the dark about shanks’ ultimate motives—but i think they’re pretty happy.)

if they’re both honest with each other from the start—if buggy calls shanks a coward in roguetown and shanks responds with the truth, if buggy admits why he reacted so harshly to shanks turning his back on that promise, that dream—i think things are awkward for a while. this kind of honesty is new for them! shanks' lightheartedness, buggy's anger, they aren't hiding the secrets they used to… can things ever be the same, now that the truth is out? how do they even talk to each other anymore?

it's almost ironic, the way being honest puts this distance between them.

eventually there comes a day—probably the anniversary of roger's death—where they are desperately lonely, even though they're literally within arm's reach of each other, and some brave member of their crew forces the issue. they realize that they've been overthinking everything, apologize, reconcile, and it's like the last piece of a puzzle sliding into place. it's just that easy. if you're here for romance, they probably get together at this point.

from that point forward, the crew never know shanks and buggy to be anything other than perfectly in sync—though they do still have the occasional spat about something silly and pointless. (buggy still claims shanks cheated somehow when they took the temperature at the south pole.)

buggy isn’t happy about shanks giving luffy his hat, but he understands why he did it. (he heard what luffy said his dream was, same as shanks.) he gives shanks a knowing look, part amusement and part exasperation, as they head back to their ship and out of luffy’s life.

this buggy is also very smug about being an emperor-level crew, but he's a little more settled, doesn't rub it in your face so much. he feels safer pushing back against shanks on certain things—he insists they need to dock at wano and see the kozukis, if no one else—and where shanks ignores his other officers when he's set in his ways, shanks will listen to buggy. he might still say no, but he always hears him out.

and yeah, i think they're happy. they're together. they're successful. their dreams—well, those are still in progress, but it's a good life they're living. why wouldn't they be happy?

#tos answers #one piece #shanks #buggy #shuggy #the no divorce au #—shuggy miscommunication

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sholangagaga · 1 year ago

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What's your opinion on Monty?

Oh I've been waiting for an ask like this to come across my inbox after how popular my Bonnie theories have been. (full theory and spoilers under the cut)

Short answer: I think he's neat!

Long answer: I think Montgomery Gator is one of, if not the, most tragic character in the entire Glamrock cast. And his tragedy, while of course upsetting to see, is also incredibly endearing from a narrative standpoint.

What does that mean? Well, let me explain.

Monty was not made to be part of the band. That much we know in the canon lore. He was his own animatronic, with his own attraction and his own thing. Whether or not he was there from the very beginning when the Pizzaplex was built, or maybe they added him later to bring in more diversity and subvert the burden on the main band, I don't think we'll ever know. (since every main band member has their own attraction, which probably subtracts from their available time to perform main shows throughout the day)

The only bits and pieces we get of Monty's "life" before his joining the band is narrated through the Gator Golf attraction.

Monty's story starts with him as a One Man Jug Band, playing by himself in his swamp.

Now it's already pretty apparent that the Monty we see here is way more docile and doe-eyed than the one we encounter in Security Breach, but maybe that's the point.

We all know the stories of humble beginnings, of rags to riches. To me, Monty was one of those stories. A little guy who ended up catching a big break down the line.

Now to get this out of the way, I don't believe Monty shattered Bonnie or the theory that Monty hated Bonnie (I went into detail here if you want the full explanation). We actually can easily debunk that theory in a few different ways, but the main thing is everything we see about Monty implies he actually admired Bonnie.

In his ride you see how he looks at Bonnie, His Showtime outfit incorporates yellow stars (like Bonnie), and he even still uses Bonnie's bass.

Now if you hate someone, if you hate them enough to kill them and take their place because you felt you deserved their fame, would you emulate that person? Would you use and wear their items, thereby constantly reminding yourself of someone you hate so much? Why would you go through the trouble of getting rid of them, of wiping them from everyone's memory, just to keep things that will always tie you to them? That doesn't make much sense to me.

You could argue that the items are trophies of his 'kill', but wouldn't you keep trophies or things of the like somewhere no one could see them? Why flaunt them and again, bring attention to this person that you hate so very much?

I think it's the exact opposite. Monty admired Bonnie, the depths of which we probably won't ever know the extent of, and when Bonnie disappeared, Monty took his place but never forgot the person who got him there. He wears Bonnie's glasses (which we never see Bonnie wear aside from in his neon portrait, which may imply that he might have given the shades to Monty directly at some time before he was shattered) and he uses Bonnie's bass, which was ALSO given to him according to the Gator Golf ride

I've seen people say that this scene is actually showing that Bonnie was just setting his bass aside after a show and Monty stole it, thereby using it for his own gain and I. . .don't see how people can infer that from the image? It looks like Bonnie is literally holding it out to Monty, who is on one knee and accepting it with respect and a cheerful expression on his face. Besides, you need some MASSIVE balls to just. . .steal a band's instrument after the show and just get away with it? Especially from what we see in game, there'd be no feasible way Monty could do that without the audience or technicians being like "What the fuck are you doing"

So yeah no, this looks like a mutual passing of the torch.

Anyways, Monty uses the shades and bass as a nod to Bonnie, he was a sweetheart with a baby face who got thrown into fame to replace his idol. I think, in some regards, Monty might've felt conflicted. Like, here he is in his dream job, but at the cost of someone he cared about.

You know who Monty DID hate though? Freddy. We can infer from plenty of sources and in game material that Monty HATED Freddy, and the reasoning for that could be literally anything, but it's not odd for a bandmate to dislike their leader/member because they're more popular (you see it a lot in IRL bands too, the favoritism and jealousy)

It's also easy to see that fame changed Monty, as it does for plenty of people. Having so many eyes on you, feeling the euphoria of all the love and attention day in and day out, it gets to your head. It changes who you are, muddles your humility. And we can see that Monty acts in the stereotypical Rocker way, conceited, destroys his greenroom and other things after shows, etc. It's an all too common trope and its sad to see it happen to Monty, though a lot of his rage could also be compounded by Glitchtrap/Vanny/Mimic being annoying (Notably, you never hear of Monty destroying his shades or his bass. Perhaps there are some things that he's oddly protective of)

And then in the main Security Breach, you only meet Monty at his worst. Angry, Corrupted, feral. You spend your time running from him (since Bonnie's shades protect him from most of Gregory's gimmicks), you hear from second-hand conjecture that he was probably the one who shattered Bonnie (which probably weighs on him too, the children asking where Bonnie is, and the technicians maybe side-eyeing him thinking that he's just a meathead who destroyed Bonnie to take his place) and each time you see him, he just gets more and more split from that sweetheart who was happily playing in his swamp.

Not to mention how he "dies"

Monty comes for Cassie, ruined beyond salvation, his mind still gone from all of the torment he endured being controlled and shattered over and over. To save herself, Cassie uses the Faz-wrench to activate the power and escape, only for the electric currents to turn the water into a death trap.

The thing that decommissions Monty, that finally puts him out of his misery, is Bonnie. That's Bonnie's neon portrait (a bit damaged from the dilapidated building) and it is the very thing that electrifies the water, destroying Monty's hardware. Whether or not its karma for Monty shattering Bonnie, or some sort of heartfelt prose that the thing that finally allows Monty to rest is the one person he cared about most, who's to say? You could argue it both ways, but isn't it just a tad more comforting to think that even in death, Bonnie was always looking out for his understudy?

Monty's story and character progression is a trope of Falling from Grace, of Icarus flying too close to the Sun and plummeting to the unforgiving earth. The more I learn about him, the more I feel bad for him. I think he deserved better. Roxanne for her redemption in Ruin, but Monty is left open-ended. A monster and murderer to some, a washed-up rocker to others.

But I think Montgomery was more than that. I think he had the capacity for gentleness and love, but he was in a position where the world was against him. His older and more experienced bandmates always destined to be loved more than him. He was basically an entry level teenager around mastery level adults. He might've lost his mind back then to the pressure and the negativity, resorting to violence for attention. No one was there for him, and Bonnie, the only person who probably would've been there for him and understood him better than most, disappeared without a trace, leaving him all alone in a world that would never fully accept him.

Yeah, I like Monty a lot.

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carefulfears · 3 months ago

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okay the hank & mia ask i've been struggling with: i genuinely have no real thoughts about this show, just intense feelings. like i truly love it, all the characters and relationships, but especially these two. and i just wonder at all the ways they're similar. i always go back to the scene on the balcony

i have intense feelings about this show too and a hard time articulating so many of them, this topic included. it's funny because this is something that i've talked about absolutely non-stop for coming close to a year and have broken down from seemingly every angle and i still don't know how to pull it all together or what to say, where to start. most people who would care have heard me run the talking points through a thousand times over.

they asked duchovny this question too ("is mia at all similar to hank?") on the season 2 DVD and i literally hopped out of my seat when i heard that in my longest "i've been saying" ever, because it's something that i find very interesting and emotional but that i was a little surprised to find was as intentional as it is in the text. one of the first times that i talked about it was this tweet: "they're very similar people and it drives me crazy...when you have a dead mom, an absent dad, and you act out by putting yourself in dangerous disrespectful sexual situations."

and i used the word "disrespectful" because there's a quote of duchovny's that always reminds me of mia: "hank's lack of respect is really for himself, not for anybody else." which i think is an insightful observation about mr. moody and his relationship to women and culture and himself, but that also relates a lot to this idea of "acting out" and of sexual encounters as infringing on something personal. which is an experience familiar to that of a young woman trying to develop those relationships and sense of self, during a very spongy time where it's easy to infringe upon.

and so yeah what i'm saying is basically that hank moody has the constitution and coping mechanisms and vulnerabilities of a teenage girl (or as i put it in this tweet: "he has abandoned 16-year-old girl swag")

or how duchovny answered when they asked, is mia at all similar to hank, on the DVD: "you kinda know that there's...that her behavior is being driven by some problems, you know, and you wanna reach out and try to help that. and i think hank has a little of that too. you know, obviously they've got a history that makes everything complicated. but i think that he feels paternal towards her more than anything."

or how madeline zima put it: "mia is a wealthy girl who has had every luxury and is now probably really bored. she's been touched by hank's writing- it may be the only time she's been affected or stimulated in that way. so she's looking for something new, something exciting, and she finds that. and i don't think hank has found many people who are on his wavelength."

mia is the only character on the show that can really go toe-to-toe with hank and match him and never waver to him, which is why she's so diabolical to a certain demographic. they even call it out in the show: "did you see how completely unfazed she was by hank? i mean, no offense, he's a cool guy, but it was kind of pathetic, right?" (dani to charlie after the book meeting)

the only times that hank ever really surprises her or throws her for a loop or catches her off guard is when he's genuinely investing in her. (like when she's struggling in her writing class and he tells her that he'll help her if she just writes something and lets him read it, her eyes go SO WIDE when she has the "really? you'd do that for me?" line.)

and for the most part, outside of the obvious, mia doesn't surprise hank either. he is the only person in the world who really knows her and what she's doing and what her life is like.

we were talking in the group-chat the other night about the scene in season 2 when karen says that mia asked her opinion ("it was like she was kind of asking my approval") on dating an "older man," a scene that's one of my favorites of the series and such a delicious example of dramatic irony.

hank is instantly on offense ("i hope you shut that shit down immediately." / "why would you say something like that?" / "that's foul." / "this gross 'older man' thing.")

while karen is so much more relaxed and talking about her own times in college and how it can be a "valid life experience" with "the right guy."

and what i love about this scene is that they aren't having the same conversation, they aren't talking about the same thing, but so much of that difference is what we said: karen thinks that mia is her, hank knows that she's him.

the kind of dynamic that karen imagines when she hears her 17-year-old stepdaughter who is about to graduate and travel the country say “older man” is a world away from the reality that mia actually inhabits, and that hank knows about. as jaden pointed out when we discussed it, when karen finds out that mia is having sex with lew ashby, she freaks the fuck out!! she goes and throws shit at him and yells and cusses at him and rants at him about how she’s a child. (and hank has the nerve to go “you’re the one who condoned it” during their “parental units” phone call L.M.F.A.O.)

karen tries to look after mia and be there for her (“we are meant to be taking care of her”), but they have such a strained relationship always. and she really isn’t equipped, especially as kept in the dark as she is. it’s honestly really sad the way that you can tell mia regrets pushing karen away.

but hank knows her. he says it himself in mia culpa: “i know you. you’re a mischievous little fuck, but you’re not malicious.” (in the same scene where he tells her that she can do better than her exploitative boyfriend, that karen loves her, that becca looks up to her. holds her hand when she tears up)

and they’re able to say anything around each other. it’s this twisted thing where no one else knows their secrets. i was thinking about the other day, how duchovny always says that his favorite thing about hank moody is that he always tells the truth, and his favorite thing about mia lewis is that it’s the one time he doesn’t. it’s this pervasive exception to a rule that bonds them. the most devastating thing about it all, to me, is that there comes a time when you realize that there is no one else looking out for this girl. there is no one else who looks at her teacher and knows there’s danger. there is no one else that she feels she can call to come get her when she’s in trouble. there is no one else to read her writing or ask where she’s going when she leaves the house. (“my own father has never so much as helped with my homework” / “my dad’s always out of town, i don’t think he cares about my whereabouts”)

but they can tell each other and joke with each other and ask each other (loser shit for grown ass mr. moody but still). one of my favorite moments is when the print review of “mia’s book” comes out and she hops on his bed to wake him up so they can read it together: “it’s our review in the times!” (so much talk and discourse over her stealing his manuscript, it’s their story, it’s their book.)

in more ways than one, considering that both books (hank’s “modern day answer to lolita” and mia’s “nabokov meets judy blume”) are responses to their big secret that they intend for the person closest to them to read. hank is heartbroken when karen won’t read his new book, and we know from charlie that all it takes is “the first page” to figure out the truth. mia wants her dad to read hers, and when he calls it a “fantasy” about hank, she nearly blows the whole thing when she gets upset and snaps “who said it was fantasy?”

these are ultimately two people who want to be seen, who want to be understood, who want to be taken seriously- and they both put that pervasive truth on paper then immediately in the hands of the person that they each should fear ever finding out. it’s the defining moment of their lives, and they both try, and they both are still left with just each other. (what a trap it can be when the person you relate to the most is the most regrettable thing that ever happened to you)

it's these circumstances that lead to the scene on the balcony, my favorite of the series. they haven't seen each other since the arrest. she's back in town for the trial. and everything is so awful. each character is so much darker and weighed down. and every single time that we see mia in season 4 she's drunk or drugged or crying or all of the above.

it always makes me sad to think of her at 16 or 17 or even 19, joking around and being her "mad as a hatter" self, and then to see her on that ledge. hollywood's latest victim.

in a couple of weeks she'll be shaking in a court room, looking over at him from the witness stand, but for today she's on the balcony. remarking how easy it would be to just let go, just fall off. and still, no less tragically, there's only one person to come get her, and know what to say.

"you know what we need to do, mia?"

"what's that?"

"we need to forgive our fucking selves. you understand?"

#the way her face shatters and her chin starts to wobble when he says that they need to forgive themselves #she does understand.#remember when sasha went to get hank for help because mia was super drunk and upset but hank was ALSO super drunk and upset #and then mia nearly killed herself days after hank got out of the hospital from his suicide attempt #LADY LAWYER: how high are you? HANK MOODY: significantly.#(one episode later)#HANK: are you okay? you look vaguely high. MIA: nothing vague about it.#ultimately i think that they do just really understand each other. i think it's hard to be alone and a fuck-up #they can get in each other's heads which is another thing i didn't really get into here #sometimes mia will say something to hank that will just ferment in him until he brings the topic up to someone else near-verbatim later #and it's really compelling to watch. they have power over each other that exists when you're the only other person in the room #therefore the only person with access #hell is a teenage girl #californication

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boxxie-does-art · 4 months ago

Text

OKAY SO I GOT SCAMMED :D

Well not really. Almost. I know I'm not so smart but there's a limit.

Earlier today I've received messages from an account who just started following me.

"Wow, what a big opportunity! Kinda weird though, let me just check their blog to see what they do"

Yeah, I found it weird for an artist, a professional especially to not have a bio, nor a profile picture.

I won't deny I investigated a bit and I found out the few art pieces they apparently claim as theirs aren't how surprising and I managed to find the true owner's instagram profile.

I tried messaging the artist on instagram to tell them about it and eventually ask if this is their account. The moment I'm writting this they still haven't answered but I don't think I need their confirmation to know that Tumblr user is an usurper.

I'm making a post about that story not only to report that one account to prevent them to act anymore but also to raise awarness about that kind of encounter online. I know that already most people are already sensitized to scams and stuff, but I know damn well that me from one or two years ago would have trusted that person. Since scamming young artists is actually pretty really current I thought I might share that story to recall the few who read these lines to be careful on internet. BUT worse again, that person is stealing another artist's work and claming them proudly as theirs, which I find so shameful and unfair for the owner.

If you guys could report them at least for stealing another's work that'd be great thank you (also reblog this so this post reaches more people).

The goal isn't to stop trusting in anyone, but whenever it happens, do check their profile and do a little research on their work.

As to me, that wouldn't surprise me if he already used my pictures to for whatever business he's having, I can't really do anything about it but please do warn me if you ever find my drawings on accounts I didn't mentionned in my bio. On second thought if this is my drawings they wanted they would have done it already, I don't know what they wanted from me nor how they would take it but whatever. Also I might have to go back and add watermarks on most of my drawings too.

That's all I had to say I guess, have a good day/night folks!

#artist #scam alert #artists on tumblr #reblog

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lowkeyremi · 1 year ago

Text

I found you (Yazukza Eren J x fem!reader)

Basically, you've been messing w his yakuza group anonymously, n he finally finds you (why did i think of the "me when i fucking get you" meme)

Content: Angst, eren's a bitch, suggestive, kidnapping, language, cocky-ish reader, a lil fluff, plot twist btwn u n eren

Oml this prob the darkest thing I've written

banner by: cafekitsune

It hurt to open your eyes, so here you are in this dark environment; more specifically a cold floor. There's a blindfold over your eyes, not that it matters because once again it hurts to open your eyes.

The smell of mold is so powerful that it's the only thing you take note of. Where the fuck are you? You aren't even sure how long you've been— where ever this is.

Creak, thump, thump, thump. That tiny voice was telling you to pick your head up because someone is coming, the louder voice was reminding you that you answer to no one so you will not pick your head up.

The blindfold was removed and you let out a groan. The light hitting your eyelids already feels bad enough, opening your eyes is going to be a pain in the ass.

"Open your eyes." A soft spoken voice commands. You do so out of curiosity, and boy, are your findings humorous.

"I refuse to believe I was kidnapped by a thin, blond, boy such as yourself." You attack him with your words. Those baby blues widen, the blond smiles maliciously.

"I didn't kidnap you, my friend did. I'm just here to get answers from you." The blond runs his hand through his short hair.

"So you're supposed to torture me? How cute." He only has shown enthusiasm to your behavior, which pissed you off a little.

"Precisely, I may not seem all that scary but I know how to get answers from people." He say intimidatingly.

You say nothing in return because you don't believe him at all.

"F/n, L/n, is it? That little sister of yours is very pretty. Wonder what would happen if I sent some guys-"

"My sister is more than capable of kicking ass, she learned from the best." You imply yourself as the best.

You're twenty-three while your sister is twenty. She's learned self defense and offense attacks in case of an emergency.

"Interesting, most people crack when a family member's life is at stake." He grins.

You are a little bit worried, but you know your sister better than anyone. She can handle anything thrown at her.

Armin, you learn, keeps asking questions, trying to get information out of you.

"You might want to just tell me because my buddy Connie isn't as nice as I am." He threatens.

"Let's hope he doesn't hit like a sissy." You respond.

Armin laughs like he's crazy. Then once again asked, "why have you been stealing our shipments and sabotaging our missions?" His voice no longer held any softness it had earlier.

"Like I said the last time, because I wanted to." A smirk creeped onto your face. Armin was getting impatient with you and your annoying back and forth with him.

He clicks the little earpiece and starts talking, "should I send in Connie or Mikasa? She's refusing to cooperate."

He was silent while the person on the other end spoke.

"Oh... alright I'll wait for you to arrive." Armin smirks at you an evil look in his eyes.

"You've done it now, have fun speaking to him." Armin crosses his arms and begins to whistle.

Excitement flows throughout your body, who are you going to encounter next?

Within a few minutes a man with long brown hair, emerald green eyes, and a well fitted suit walks in with a woman who has short black hair and a red scarf, the other man has a growing buzz cut and a nasty scowl on his face.

"It still surprises me that one woman has been able to cause so much chaos in my group." His velvet voice shook your soul.

"Never underestimate a woman, Eren." The black haired girl speaks, she has the voice of an angel.

"You can go Armin, thanks for the help." The brunnette dismisses him.

"Of course, if you need anything I'm in the main building." Armin smiled at you as he walked out, it was more of a childish 'you're in trouble now' kind of smile.

"Do I look familiar to you?" Eren asks.

You knew an Eren when you were a young girl, that was a long time ago. This man doesn't look the Eren you knew.

"No, am I supposed to recognize you?" Eren looks at your chained arms and he chuckles.

"You should recognize me, does 'Eren's famous mud pies' ring any bells?" He asks folding his big bulky arms.

"I didn't want to believe it was you." Is all you say sighing.

"What was your reasoning, if you didn't know I was the head of this group?" When Eren had found out his childhood crush was antagonizing him, he thought that you were trying to get his attention.

"Your father." Eren's eyes widened.

"My father?" He asks.

"Yeah, at first I thought he just didn't like my family. Recently though, from the test results it turns out he killed my father and once attempted to murder me in my sleep. I was only returning the favor. Seems the old geezer retired and put you in his place to save his ass." Before Eren could respond Connie spoke up.

"How do we know she isn't lying?" He asks.

"That would be a very sick thing to lie about." Mikasa counters.

"So Dad wasn't lying about that..." Eren whispers more to himself than to anyone in particular. You hear it anyway and your eyes squint.

"You knew?" Betrayal starts to seep through your body, even if you haven't seen Eren in a long time he was still somebody you used to trust your life with.

"Well yeah, but when he confessed it sounded too ridiculous to be true but now that I know it's true, I'm angry. I can't believe he tried to fucking kill you." The look on his face is lethal. You understand his anger but it makes you upset that he's more concerned about you than the fact that Grisha killed your father.

"It doesn't matter to you that he killed my dad?" Venom is laced in your voice, Eren's emerald eyes flicker your way and they soften for a moment.

"That's not what I meant. Of course I'm mad he killed your father. I'm... I just- I'm pissed he tried to kill the girl he knows I love! Even if that bastard is my father, he's going to pay." Eren blurts his love confession to you and everyone else is shocked, including you.

"Love? Eren what the actually fuck? Why didn't we know about this?! I thought we were like family!" Connie shouts he sounds more betrayed than angry.

"Yeah Eren, what the hell? Saying you love me won't bring my dad back." You're smug now, it hurts thinking about him but you won't cry, especially not in front of the son of the man who killed him. That would only make his death more pitiful.

"You can't seriously be implying you don't feel the same way." Eren's voice holds none of that comfort from earlier.

"Eren, don't do this. Not everything will go your way." Mikasa reminds him calmly.

"I wasn't fucking talking to you Mikasa! Answer the damn question!" He screams at you.

It seems he's the same as he's always been, your little maniac.

"Eren you are so pathetic, why obsess over someone like me?" His hands ball up into fists and it looks like he might bust a vein.

"Quit stalling, you can't tell me you don't love me after all those years we spent together." Connie grips his shoulder, but it does nothing to ground Eren because he's lunging at you in rage.

"No Eren, I don't love you. How could I? You and your asshole father can rot in hell." You're lying straight to his face, you want nothing more than to kiss him right now. It's not possible, maybe in another life where your father is still breathing.

Mikasa and Connie use all their strength to pull him back. You watch as they escort the love of your life out of the basement. He's screaming and cursing at you. The only thing you seem to tune into is, "This isn't over! I know you love me! You can't punish me for something I didn't do! I still love you." The last part was spoken quietly.

Your heart was beating loudly in your chest from everything going on. When he's out of sight, you mouth, "I love you too."

pt 2??? maybe?????

#eren jaeger x reader #eren #eren yeager #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren aot #aot #aot x reader #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #mikasa aot #connie springer #connie aot #armin arlert #armin aot #armin #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan

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