#this is the tag that people who never watched it will go to

[swordshapedleaves]

#this summer I was holding my year old nephew at the beach#as each wave came in I dipped him down to deep his feet into the foamy crest#and I did a oooohhhh#and I flashed back to my mom doing it to my sister#and I asked my mom who taught her to swim assuming it was my grandma#but it was my grandfather#who learned from his father#and I remember his love of the sea#that he never lost even when the sea delivered him to war#he saw the beauty of its ferocity#I remember watching him watch the sun set over the dark sea#and how he said the sea was life#and loving the sea was like loving people#there is so much going on beneath#it can be cruel it can be brutal but you weather the storm when you want to be there but you have to choose#all this to say I wonder who was the first to dip their baby's feet into the gentle waves and say ooooohhh#so that their child would love the sea because they felt safe in their parents arms

@desperate-confidence these tags should be seen by everyone

Someday your hands will be old and wrinkled, the skin spotted and bunching over your knuckles. And a child will watch you make something. It's a simple task, you'll have done it a thousand times before. But to that child, the smooth, confident way your hands move will seem like impossible magic. You have to keep living.

[fairestwriting]

RAHHHH, I LOVR YOUR WRITING!!!!

Can I kindly request for Leona, Jade, and Idia with a Hyper! Reader?

Like, Reader is up for everything and anything and is always either preparing for shenanigans or doing them.

ah yes. the trio i am definitely not biased towards when it comes to writing stuff (TYSM im glad you like it!!! i hope you enjoy this too <33

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

It’s a good thing that you’re so lively, you can just have energy for the two of you, is the sort of thing you’ll hear from him a lot. Always seasoned with his signature snarky feeling, sometimes he’s more exasperated, and other times, he can actually sound quite fond and sweet.

The “Herbivore” nickname isn’t going away anytime soon, that’s for sure. It’s more than just a little jab at how non threatening you come off— You honestly kind of remind him of a rabbit. If you ask him to elaborate he says it’s because you’re “always hopping around and sticking your nose into other people’s business”. If you ask him for further explanation he says you’re just proving his point by being too curious.

To anyone who knows how to read him, it becomes quite visible that he’s really very unsuccessful at concealing how endearing he thinks your antics are. He’ll never miss an opportunity to tell you he’s absolutely not going to join you on whatever you’re up to that day, and yet… he’s always there to say these exact words.

You might manage to convince him to take you out on some fun dates, things like going to amusement parks or arcades. He actually really enjoys it, despite always playing up that unamused, grumpy act. Most of the time he’ll just stand on the sidelines and watch while you have your fun, but it’s not that hard to bait him into following you to the roller coaster. At the end of the day, he tells you he hopes you’re satisfied because he won’t be indulging you again too soon— Something you can easily prove wrong in about a week or so.

𐙚 Jade Leech

He’s always not-so-secretly overjoyed to hear about any new troublemaker type that might pop up into Azul’s radar. These people are always the most interesting to observe, after all. So even before you two actually spoke, you’ve been keeping him more than engaged.

Jade has no desire to actively cause anything that might count as mischief… or at least that’s what he says. It’s not a full blown lie, but the key word here really is “actively” — Any antics of yours that he can support will be supported. Whether by conveniently making others too intimidated to get in your way, or sharing little hints of possible interesting things to do around school. It takes him some time to start actually tagging along, even if it’s just to stand around and watch you having your fun, but when he starts to do it, he’s pretty much become your new henchman.

While he mostly keeps to himself, if you show any interest in going on hikes with him, or learning about mushrooms and such, you’ll find that he can match your energy level quite easily. Jade is actually a bit surprised at your enthusiasm when it comes to that, he’s always wondered how it’d be like to explore the woods with a partner. Very quick to make new hiking plans, even quicker to think of multiple creative ways to use up whatever you picked while out.

He finds himself smiling and laughing a lot when he’s by your side. Of course, he already does both often in general, but it’s different when he’s with you. You always have some new, interesting topic to talk about, paired with a remarkable skill to find entertaining points about seemingly anything, it’s really contagious to him.

𐙚 Idia Shroud

Thinks it’s a miracle someone like you ever became interested in him. Shouldn’t a pessimistic, anxious introvert just come off as boring to someone who’s so bright and active? For a good while, Idia just couldn’t understand how you’d even fit him into your world. You two are just so different—

He would’ve probably rejected you out of sheer hopelessness if it wasn’t for the fact that… pairing a cheerful character with a gloomy one is, in fact, a pretty popular romance trope in anime. A part of him, sort of shyly and almost guiltily, hoped that he would get to have that in real life one day.

The fact you’re even open to indulging his interests definitely helps to bring you two closer. He was so anxious about showing you anything he liked, even if it was some popular game everyone in school is talking about, it’s just too nerdy for someone like you, isn’t it? Sometimes he’s still comically surprised whenever you mention liking a game or something like that. But he can get over his nervousness pretty quickly when you suggest playing together, even if it’s just on call.

When you’re messing with other people, he likes watching it from afar. Texts asking for updates on how your latest plans are going. If he can, he’ll even bail you out of trouble, it’s not like it’s that hard to make one of the school cameras just stop working for a little bit… And he really likes your reactions to him doing things like that, the way you praise his skills with so much enthusiasm. It really makes him feel like he’s won in life, honestly.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[xxchumanixx]

May I please request a fic where the reader (who's a famous singer) falls in love with Tim but is reluctant to fully trust and be vulnerable with him due to bad experiences she's had with men in the past? The reader could eventually write and sing a song about her love for Tim which blows up and even wins awards like Grammys too which makes their relationship stronger and she opens up her heart more? 🥺

Be myself

Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Warnings/Tags: fluff, a bit of angst, mentions of physical abuse / hitting (please look for help if you're in an abusive relationship! Being abused is not normal and it shouldn't be simply endured and viewed as it) Word count: 2.421 Authors note: I don't know if I used the gif before (probably did), but it just fits perfectly. I know you linked Whats love got to do with it by our legend Tina, but I kinda didn't vibe with it. I hope you'll still like it, though (if it was even meant for reference to the song the reader writes). I'm in no way a songwriter, so I'm not at all sure about that small part i wrote there. I know I posted a sneak peak for something different, but this gave me so much motivation to write so i put it first. Enjoy!

He didn't know how he ended up with you of all people.

Not that he'd complain.

Never.

But a famous singer like you and a cop like him? It had to be fate that brought you together when him and his rookie had been called to deescalate a situation at a concert of yours.

He didn't expect to fall for you - hell, you probably didn't either. It just kinda happened after you gave him your number before him and his rookie left.

It had been meant more like a joke - yet he hadn't been able to get you out of his head and neither did you. So he texted you.

Three weeks later you went on your first date.

You had been cautious, bad experiences with previous boyfriends and dates branding you more than you'd have liked to admit.

And so you didn't.

The date went great, leading to another one shortly after.

Tim swore you were playing some magic trick on him. The speed in which he fell for you was shocking. In a few weeks you had him wrapped around your finger.

It didn't take long for him to admit his feelings to you, saying he'd understand if you weren't ready for anything yet, and as he rambled on, you'd cut him off with a kiss.

Because you were indeed ready.

At least that's what you thought.

Not that you didn't have feelings for him - you had, and they were strong. You just had trouble letting yourself be too open, too vulnerable.

To trust easily.

Though, right from the start, you knew he was different. He was interested in your career, yes, but in a way that didn't profit him or made him want to brag about his girlfriend being famous.

Or try and hit you if you didn't spend all your money on him. It had happened once, leaving a mark on your soul you had trouble getting rid of. Getting rid of the douchebag wasn't exactly easy, either.

But that was another thing.

No, Tim supported you, took days off to watch your concerts and be there for you. And maybe to have the time of his life with you in your wardrobe backstage.

For a while now, you had been working on a project - a new song that one day came to your mind when you thought about the past few months and your relationship with Tim.

It had almost been a year now, and you started to question whether your cautiousness was misplaced.

Not that you didn't trust him.

You trusted him more than you did any other man you'd been with, it just was like a habit of sorts. Some sort of protection your mind had put up in the beginning.

It wasn't easy to let that guard down.

It was one of the main parts you included in that song. How he made you want to be more open, to trust and give up that control you so desperately held onto.

To love without the constant fear of it all going downhill.

Your producer, Savannah, supported you all the way. You wrote your song, recorded it over and over again until you were a hundred percent convinced that it did Tim justice in a way.

Or rather his love for you. The way he never treated you differently even though you were famous.

Sure, there were times when his face would be plastered along magazine articles alongside yours - especially the beginning hadn't been easy.

Hiding a relationship wasn't easy and it certainly didn't work in this case, either. The first time it happened it had been on Instagram.

Someone had seen you and him together, taking a video and posting it for everyone to see. Once it reached a certain amount of views, it spread like wildfire, and everyone knew.

Tim wasn't very happy about it.

He understood that it was part of your life, but he didn't like it - and that included him - plastered all over the internet.

When you were shopping and hoarded by paparazzi or too many fans and he'd notice you were overwhelmed, he'd play the 'I'm a cop, please stand back' card, effectively getting you out of the situation.

Another thing you loved him for.

He didn't thrive on the constant attention, didn't suck it up like a sponge and used it to his advantage. Not like other men had tried to do before.

So why was it so hard to let go? Why was it so hard to trust, to let yourself be too vulnerable?

When you published the song, Tim had yet to hear it.

Yes, maybe you should have let him listen to it before publishing it, but you were too nervous. Too nervous he'd laugh at you, tell you that you were crazy for writing and publishing that song.

It would have also meant he'd question the origin - why you had such trust issues, had these problems of opening up.

You didn't want to be judged. After all, you still hadn't told him about it.

Only a few days later, you and Tim were driving in his truck home, when suddenly, the radio moderator announced your new song. Tim's gaze snapped to you - normally you'd show him your upcoming projects, talk to him about them.

He didn't know you'd just published a new song.

Your cheeks heated up as he stared at you in confusion before his gaze fixed back on the street. You knew he was listening, picking up on the lyrics.

Another thing you loved about him.

He didn't just hear the songs, he listened to them. Analyzing them, understanding them.

So it was no surprise he did understand this song, too. About a minute into the song he parked in his driveway, killing the engine but leaving the radio on.

You nibbled on your lip nervously, heart beating wildly as you tried to make out his reaction. You couldn't read his thoughts, so you had to rely on his body language.

And when he understood the song was about him, his gaze snapped to yours right as the second chorus hit.

You let me be myself, and I thank you for that.

You ban all the bad thoughts from my head.

No matter how hard I try, I can't find anything bad about you.

And I hope you see me like that, too.

You support me, give me strength,

It is wrong to hold you at arms length.

I love you and I hope you see,

that your're the best thing that's ever happened to me.

You swallowed, not interrupting him as he listened to the rest of the song. This certainly hadn't been how you'd planned this.

Sure, you wanted him to know about the song and all the things it expressed sooner or later, but when you published it, the thought of him hearing it that soon hadn't exactly crossed your mind.

When the song ended and the next came up, he immediately turned the radio off.

He stared at you, shocked, surprised.

In awe.

You bit your lip as his own parted, though nothing came out. His head tilted slightly, thinking.

"Is it true?" was the first thing he asked. "Or is it just... I don't know, a random love song?"

Your eyes widened slightly, and you shook your head. "No, it's not a random love song." you said. "It... It's about you, Tim."

He nodded slightly, still shocked. "What about the- the trust issues you talk about? Or sing, for that matter." he inquired further. "Or the 'keeping at arms length'?"

You swallowed, sighing quietly as you looked away. "It's all true, yes." you admitted quietly. "And I know I should have told you, and I know you're having a lot of questions right now, but... I'm sorry."

Tim leaned forward over the middle console and placed his finger under your chin to lift your head, his blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hey, you have nothing to apologize for." he said, shaking his head slightly. "Yes, it would be nice to know the details behind it, but I understand that you didn't tell me. Or show me the song beforehand, for that matter. It's great, by the way - just like everything else about you."

You blushed, suddenly feeling undeserving of him. He was way too caring and understanding.

"I mean, I assumed some things..." he continued, tilting his head from side to side for a moment. "But I never pushed you to tell me. And I won't now. Neither did you on the subject of Isabel. If you want to tell me, I'm happy to listen, but you don't have to. Just know that I feel incredibly honored and love you."

Tears burned in your eyes, and suddenly, you knew you could trust him with everything. No more keeping him at arms length.

"I love you, too." you breathed out, smiling through the tears. "I just- I don't know." you shook your head in sudden embarrassment. "Ever since I got famous all the men seemed to want the same thing. Fame, my face as their way into Hollywood. To brag about their girlfriend being famous and make themselves look more important. Or try and hit me for not spoiling them like the ungrateful bitch I am." you grimaced, and his eyes widened before they narrowed. "I know you aren't like that, I do. I just couldn't shake this... habit of closing myself off and trying to avoid another one of these situations. I'm sorry, Tim. I know you are better than them. That song is about you and it is supposed to express how I feel about you."

Tim smiled, cupping your face with his hands. "You're so much more than your career, Y/N." he told you, wiping the tears away with his thumbs. "You're a caring, beautiful and brilliant woman. You're far more than I deserve yet I'm too selfish to ever let you go. I love you more than you can imagine, and I want you to know that I'd never try to get any fame or benefits or whatever from you or your career. Let alone lay a hand on you. I love you too much to risk us - not that I'd need your fame or money. I'm a cop and I love being a cop. My girlfriend just happens to be an amazing singer."

You laughed quietly, blushing more. His words spread a warmth through you like no one else ever did. "You're flattering me." you mumbled sheepishly. He cocked a brow. "I'm not." he said. "You are an amazing singer. You're amazing in general, all over."

You laughed once more, a smile on your lips. "You're way too good for me, Tim Bradford." you said. "I'm the one not deserving you."

He huffed, tilting his head from side to side again. "Debatable." he said. He leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss. "Come on, let's head inside." he mumbled against them. "I want to celebrate this song."

It had been about two weeks until your song seemed to have gained massive popularity, and when the letter landed in the mail weeks later, you screamed.

Tim had rushed into the kitchen, gun drawn as he tried to find out what happened. When he saw you with the letter in hand, pressing a hand to your mouth, he lowered the gun, stepping beside you.

One look at the letter and his lips parted.

You looked up in your excitement, almost headbutting him where he was looking over your shoulder. "Tim-" you breathed out, cutting yourself off with another squeal. He grimaced at the high sound, though laughing as he moved to hug you from behind.

"Baby, that's amazing." he breathed out. "I'm so proud of you." You bit your cheek, heart pounding wildly. "I- I mean, I haven't won anything yet." you said, fingers trembling as they held the letter. "But..." "But you're nominated." Tim finished for you. "That's more than most can wish for. This is amazing, Y/N. God, I'm so proud of you."

You smiled widely, clutching the letter to your chest. You giggled and jumped up and down in his arms, pressing a hand to your lips. Tim laughed quietly, holding tighter onto you, his nose brushing the shell of your ear. In the last few weeks you'd grown even closer, and it all felt more right than ever.

"Told you you're amazing."

Nervous wasn't word enough to describe your current state.

The Grammys.

The fucking Grammys.

Never would you have thought this would happen. Who would have thought you'd make it this far?

Fidgeting with your small clutch nervously, you took a deep, trembling breath. Tim grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers and giving them a reassuring squeeze. You'll be okay.

The wait had been torture.

Waiting for the day to come, waiting for the announcements. It was like a dream come true, yet the wait left you on edge.

You'd been nominated for single of the year. Your song about Tim Be Myself had literally exploded, landing you a spot at the Grammys.

You inhaled shakily as the nominees were announced before the moderator opened an envelope. She drew it out, making the anticipation rise higher and higher until your heart suddenly slammed to a stop.

"Best single of the year goes to... Be Myself!" Your lips parted, not believing what just happened. Tim cheered, the crowd applauded, and you got up on shaky legs.

You couldn't believe it.

This was more than you could have ever wished for, and as Tim pressed a kiss to your cheek, giving you the biggest, most proudest smile you'd ever seen on him before he ushered you to the stage, you knew it.

You knew he was the one.

He was the one that treated you right. The one that loved you unconditionally.

And you'd be forever grateful for that.

Tag List

@laheysfilm @newobsessionweekly @augustvandyne @RookieTrek @dhundhchrih @nachofriess @dtftheavengers @wonderland2425 @skywalker0809 @freyathehuntress @caplanbuckybarnes @sacredwarrior88

[leighsartworks216]

Claw Machines

Sylus x gn!Reader & MC

Raven deserves the world and more and I need to heal their inner child so so bad and who better to help than MC?

Warnings: fluff, silly, growing friendship, arcades, healing their inner child, kissing, swearing, banter

Word Count: 1,678

Main Masterlist

The Raven Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Third Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

Sylus was 'busy', but you're dead certain that was just an excuse to nudge you into bonding with Miss Hunter. When she'd called to invite him out, you saw the smirk that curled his lips. You'd glared at him when he said you'd take his spot. You'd even been tempted to ditch her, but you couldn't in the end, knowing how much she means to him.

The claw moves around the box, following the movements of the little joystick. She looks as if she's facing down a Wanderer, not a stuffed koala with a teddy bear. Her tongue pokes out of her mouth, head swivels to the sides of the box to make sure she's lined up properly, fingers tapping impatiently on the machine before she hits the button. The claw descends. Closes. And as it rises, the koala is stuck in its grasp.

"Yes!" Miss Hunter laughs giddily as she bends down and grabs her prize from the chute. She squishes its face, eyes shining brilliantly with glee. Suddenly, she turns to you. "Have you ever played before?"

You shake your head, appearing quite bored with the whole thing.

"Do you want to try it? I can give you some pointers!"

A relentlessly stubborn part of you wants to refuse. Stand around like her own personal bodyguard while she travels from machine to machine with tokens purchased with Sylus's card and a bag full of toys.

But... you're also curious. You'd peered through shop windows and seen kids with toys your whole childhood, without any hope of having one to call your own. You'd made peace with that a long time ago, aided in the fact you now have plenty of money to live comfortably, though you keep that money close to your chest. Now Miss Hunter's barging through that peace, eyes shining and full of childish energy. And you give in.

You step up hesitantly to the controls. She squeals in glee and stands right beside you, nearly leaning on your arm. "Okay, this is the joystick! You use it to move the claw around. And then when you're lined up with something, you push this button and it'll try grabbing it."

You quirk an eyebrow at her. She smiles deviously. "It's a lot harder than it looks, trust me."

You should have listened to her. She makes it look so easy; you have to wonder if she's somehow using her Evol to cheat. No matter what target you went for, it always slipped through. Sometimes in the most ridiculous ways - bouncing off the edge of the plastic surrounding the chute or flipping off into an unreachable corner. You're not usually one to give up on a challenge, but this is getting ridiculous.

Miss Hunter smiles apologetically at you after your target falls over, just out of reach of the claw. "Maybe this machine isn't calibrated well," she suggests, but it's a half-baked excuse. "Let's try another one."

So you do.

And another.

... And another.

It's agony. She'll take over, pleading with big round eyes and a pout that works like a charm on Sylus to play a round, and get a plushie on her first try. Her bag is almost overflowing. She considers asking for a second one, but she looks sorry when she says so out loud.

Another machine catches her eye and she dashes over like a child. You watch her go.

It's... confusing, contradictory, to see someone like her be so carefree and childish. Her life has not been a cakewalk, and she's been through things normal people would never recover from. Yet here she is, squealing and giggling with delight, while you stand amid the flashing lights and chiming bells, arms crossed and frowning.

You hate to think you could ever possibly be jealous of her. Jealousy was unnecessary when you had all the means to get what you wanted so easily. Still, it's difficult not to envy in some ways the ease with which she enjoys such simple things.

You sigh. You damn Sylus for having you take his place on this little playdate with Miss Hunter. Damn the machines and their stupid claws. Damn all the plushies that seem to hate you.

The arcade is relatively small. When you begin walking around the various machines, it's easy to keep an eye on her. After all, if something happened to her here, it would be your fault. And you don't exactly want a repeat of last time.

It's by pure chance you happen to glance over. Pure random chance that your eyes slipped onto a series of miniature claw machines, stacked 3-on-3 in an alley between the bigger machines. You would not have stopped if you hadn't then done a double-take to make sure you saw what you thought you saw. And sure enough, as you step up to the small machines, you see in one a tiny keychain in the shape of a crow.

It's adorable. Big eyes that take up half its body stare longingly out at the arcade, half-closed with an air of disinterest. A little white ruff wraps all around its body. Two little feet with three toes each stick out the bottom.

You glance around to find Miss Hunter. She's moved on to the Balance machines, where her skilled fingers shift the two-pronged claw to nudge the box off the poles. An employee already stands there, waiting to re-setup the machine, as they chat with familiarity. She seems safe enough...

After a moment of watching to make sure the employee doesn't try anything, you reach into your pocket and pull out the tokens she gave you earlier. You insert one, and a small LED display counts down a timer.

The joystick is tiny in your hand - you can only imagine how it would fit in Sylus's. You shift it over top the crow. After spending however long failing on the other machines, you don't have much hope, especially when these are designed to give the impression of being easier so people will want to try them even more. You push the tiny button, and the claw lowers. The crow is picked up, shifting slightly in its loose hold. It's carried to the chute...

A tiny jingle plays, similar to the one that follows Miss Hunter around every machine.

You... you did it?

You hesitate before opening the little hatch, as though you just imagined all of that and you're going to be woefully out of luck when you reach in to find it empty. But no. You reach in and your fingers touch soft fur. You pull it out. There he is - your very own tiny crow plush.

The crow's big eyes seem to stare up at you, unimpressed. But your mind says he's happy, free from his cramped little prison.

Footsteps approach and you're immediately back on alert. You'd been smiling without even realizing it, but that is wiped away for neutrality. Miss Hunter doesn't seem to notice, gushing over the prize in your hand.

"Awe, you won that! It's so cute!" She pokes its cheek with her finger, giggling. "I've never been able to win anything from these machines. How many tries did it take you?"

Something flutters in your chest. A feeling you'd only felt when Sylus praised you - pride. You really managed to do something she couldn't? It sounded impossible after seeing her win over and over again without fail.

You hold up a finger. She gapes at you.

"What? It only took you one try?!" She looks at the machines, and all the cute mini plushies within. She frowns, considering something, before pulling out a handful of tokens. "Maybe they made these easier, somehow? Let me try."

-

"Have fun?"

You dangle the toy in front of Mephisto. He stands in your lap, playfully pecking and nipping at it. He's careful not to damage or tear it - he's always such a good bird.

Sylus wraps his arms around you from behind the couch. His chin rests on your shoulder, large hands massaging your sides. He kisses your cheek. "You're smiling."

Your first instinct is to turn away, but he stops you. Fingers grab your chin and turn you to face him instead. Crimson eyes, smug and teasing, meet yours.

You sigh. You have to admit that it was fun, even if you'd love to be stubborn and say it wasn't. Maybe if you hadn't won anything, you wouldn't have to pretend you hated it. Unfortunately, the toy that dangles from your finger is evidence to the contrary.

"She's a menace on those machines," you say, voice low, like it's a secret.

He chuckles. "How many did she get?"

"I lost count."

You glance back at Mephisto and shift the toy to rest in your palm. He grabs it in his beak, cawing around the object in his mouth, and flits off to go put it with his little hoard. Or, well, you thought he would. Instead, he flaps off to his perch and, using his foot and beak together, manages to hang it by its chain on the end of it. They look like a matching set as he fluffs up and settles down to rest

Sylus kisses the corner of your smiling mouth. You feel exposed. How is it possible for something so small to catch your emotions off guard?

"I'm glad you had fun," he whispers sincerely. "If you'd like, we can go together sometime."

"We wouldn't win anything," you tease. You rub your nose against his, drawing out a soft look of love from his eyes.

He shrugs. "Then we'll steal one."

"How criminal. This may be your most dastardly scheme yet."

"Mhm. And I'll need my best man on the job to help me pull it off." He closes the small gap to kiss you. His thumb rubs over the ball of your chin. Another kiss and his hand shifts to your jaw. Another, then to your neck. He draws you in, over and over, languidly savoring you, like you have all the time in the world.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @that-lost-one

[h-sleepingirl]

Dolly in the Art Gallery: A Charmed 2025 Scene Log/Recap

“Art is how we decorate space, and music is how we decorate time.”

I first heard this Jean-Michel Basquiat quote in a rope class from Barkas, in the context of how we play within both space and time in a kink scene. I think about it frequently, especially as I feel more and more passionately about the brutally human impulse to create art.

I have been coming to hypnosis events since 2013, before Charmed existed -- my first event was packed with my own manic energy, held in a dungeon where people could hypnotize me basically at will. No hotel staff, no sneaking back to a private room. I developed a reputation as an aesthetically pleasing subject, often put on display in subtle and overt ways.

I have grown up in this community. Essentially my entire adult life has been spent involved in going to events and cons. I'm 33 now, and as Charmed celebrates its 10th year I've perhaps been unconsciously influenced to reflect on myself aging.

I feel so much older than that 21 year old exhibitionist. I'm more reserved, quieter, more selective, and certainly smarter. I like who I'm becoming, but I do miss parts of who I used to be -- that confidence, that energy. 

On Friday evening I looked at the schedule and saw there was going to be a Gallery of Living Art -- it's been a staple at Charmed for a number of years, but I'd never done more than peek inside.

I thought to myself: “Why not try to get in touch with that playful younger self? Why not show everyone who I am nowadays? Why not live out a fantasy?” 

Surely I’m not too old. Surely I haven’t grown out of this.

The time comes and I connect with my partner about it. He knows that one of my absolute favorite things is being totally frozen. We decide against anything complicated. No one will touch me or trigger me or anything like that. It’s the most “negotiating” we've maybe ever done, but I still leave all details to him. I tell him: “I was really just thinking this is an opportunity for me to sit blank and still for a long time.”

We walk into the room, and it’s overwhelming. People are setting up intricate exhibits with lots of creative interactions. There is a sheet we need to fill out to describe what our “art” is, which my partner writes on cryptically.

“Dolly can't talk. Duh…”

“Dolly is precious -- don't touch!”

Under “Artist”, where he is meant to put his name, he writes a question mark.

I am so in love with him, watching his mind work on the spot.

We find a place in the loud room and look at each other. We are a fluid force of nature in a bed together, spontaneous and wild. This planning doesn't feel like us. This hypnosis isn't a formality, per se, but it just feels sort of like “We both know how this is going to end on some level -- so how do we spend this time?”

He gingerly removes my name tag and starts murmuring to me. 

Being a dolly is such a luxurious treat that the moment he suggests it, I crumble, gripping his shirt with my weak little fingers, moaning too softly to be heard by anyone but him.

He poses me. He fixes my gaze blank and forward. He lets me practice standing and sitting. This kind of rehearsal is unfamiliar for us, and I almost relish doing something that feels a little awkward.

I am a dolly when he leaves me, frozen and posed, but I know it is going to take a couple minutes to settle in. I am a dolly getting comfortable, a dolly with twinges of self-consciousness. After a couple minutes he walks me over to a different chair, one that is highlighted by empty space around it, and I sit, and I know this is truly where I am supposed to be on display.

Finally, total stillness rushes over me like pure relief. 

I sit, and I stare, and I don’t do anything else. My mind is blank, and sometimes all there is inside my head is “I’m a dolly, I’m a dolly,” in my little dolly voice. It is pure, simple bliss.

People begin to come up to me to look at me. I am a good dolly and I am silent and I do not move even my eyes. They patiently read my sign and then observe me. I cannot change my body position to be any more or less appealing to them, I cannot hide nor flaunt myself.

Some people say things to me, little compliments and appreciations, and I can’t really process their words. The little dolly voice in my head screams in pleasure when I’m spoken to and given attention.

I have ADHD, I’m addicted to my phone, I’m a fidgeter. But there is nothing that carries the unique pleasure of being frozen and still. It reminds me of Quaker meetings, of spiritual silence and meditation that makes one feel time itself as though it has a sensory texture.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel talks about the Jewish sabbath as proof that it is not intuitive for us to sanctify time. But nevertheless as Jews we must learn to do it to make shabbat holy every week. Shabbat is “a cathedral in time,” he says, and I’ve been thinking about how much that applies to my experience of hypnosis. Hypnosis is not a physical object. We may sometimes have props but we cannot touch trance and it leaves no marks. It is time that is the sacred dimension in hypnosis, the time that we set aside (“kadosh” in Hebrew) with another human being.

Heschel says we are slaves to space and material things. And in this moment I feel like I have gotten as close as I can to releasing that. I am not even moving my physical body within the physical world. I am just relishing each passing second of stillness, building my cathedral in time.

Of course, sometimes I think sacred space and objects are very important. After all, I am in a space that is incredibly rare, that only exists very briefly, that I had to travel at length to get to.

And I am an object -- art -- inside of it. I am literally decorating the space, as Basquiat would say.

Am I thinking all of this as I sit there motionless? No, not with any sophistication. I truly feel blank. But I am feeling flashes of this as abstract mental sensations that I will untangle later.

Something else strikes me very quickly that I observe within. When people walk up to look at me, something inside me tenses up. I realize that I am unconsciously preparing myself to talk to them. I have been coming to cons for so long, and especially since beginning to write books I always meet a ton of new people every year who come up to me to talk, which I adore. But right now I am in a space where I literally cannot have a conversation with anyone. I don’t even have my nametag on anymore -- my partner was so clever to remove it.

It is the opposite of vending books, where I sit in a chair and am helpless in the sense that I must engage in conversation with the people who come up to meet me. Now, I literally cannot talk to anyone, and they cannot talk to me, and most people may not even know who I am.

It is a hit of extreme objectification, more real than it has ever felt. I am not sleepingirl -- I am a dolly. “Who” I am doesn’t matter. I am art.

My partner also is not sitting there receiving compliments for me. He is nearby, in eyesight, just watching. But he’s anonymous too. And there is something about this mutual anonymity that makes me feel even prouder about us as a couple. There is no performance of who we are. I don’t know how to describe it, but obviously it feels more authentic than public play usually ever does. Like a little secret we are sharing a corner of.

And he looks ever the artist, sitting back and watching me. I feel very strongly that this little scene isn’t the art -- it’s me. Our relationship is what’s really on display. All the work he’s done over 7 years of brainwashing me, real work on my personality and identity, my wardrobe, every single way I express myself and who I am. The people coming by are seeing his bimbo, his dolly, his [x] -- without necessarily knowing who either of us are.

The rhythm is addicting. My mind babbles my self-given dolly mantra over and over, I luxuriate in the stillness, and I stare. I only can sort of half-see with darkened vision, though my eyes are wide. I love when people notice me sitting there -- their expressions change as they observe me. They step into my metaphorical space, which is eerily silent compared to the revelry of the creative demonstrations that fill the room. They are no longer “being entertained,” and no one can communicate to them what I am doing -- they must engage with me out of their own curiosity.

Sometimes they decide to talk to me. I can’t process most of it, but I remember a few interactions.

Someone says, “What an excellent dolly.”

Someone else notices that I’m wearing a bracelet that says “bimbo,” and says, “Even the details on this one are exquisite.”

Someone else says, “Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen sleepingirl play before.”

That last one hits me in the gut with memories of a time now long past: Play in public spaces was universal at cons; I couldn’t move from one place to another without someone dropping me into trance; absolutely everyone knew what I looked like when hypnotized.

Even now as I am on display, I have a mask on, and the people can’t see my gently parted lips.

It is a rush of emotion that is very complex for my simple little dolly head, but it goes away.

For a long while, I just exist as a thing in bliss while the room -- the whole world -- bubbles with activity around me. 

Eventually even as I sit frozen and blank, a little timer starts ticking in my head -- I could sit here for much longer, but I don’t want to make him wait for me, and I have other things I want to do tonight.

Reading Heschel has been helping me release some of that odd panic that bubbles up when I awaken from trance -- the feeling that magic is slipping through my fingers, memories are slipping out of my mind, and I can take no memento from it. I sometimes write, draw, or make music to try to capture the things I feel in hypnosis with my partner. I think it is from that impulse to be able to touch and hold hypnosis, to make it a “thing” in space as opposed to something of time.

But I do think there is something else, just a human drive to create art about this transcendent experience that we engage in together. I need to create art to try to communicate the perfect way I don’t move and my eyes go glassy. I need to express my emotions, my desires, my dreams, my love. I am only human, a human blown away by this very human thing we do that we call hypnosis.

Only my partner sees it, and he does see so much into the soul of it for me. But this is exactly what I have wanted -- a chance to publicly communicate the beauty of what he and I do. To make this art by performing it, living it. To engage in a human act of creativity by having my humanity stripped away from me.

I am a bimbo, a dolly, I am art -- and that doesn’t go away when I get up to tell him I am done sitting here. I am his art. I am a manifestation of his creativity in this world, and he has a beautifully creative mind which I love so dearly.

This is serious for me, this is real for me, this is so highly personal and jealously guarded as my own precious identity.

Ten years ago I laid my head on his lap and he transformed my eyes into dolly eyes and told me that someday he would turn my whole body into a dolly body. And as we laid together in a bed after the Gallery on Friday he talked about how I had those dolly eyes again in that room. But to me, it’s not about being a dolly, or even being a bimbo. It’s about creating art together, art with a power imbalance. And fucking respecting that as sacred and exciting.

I don’t have much else to say except extreme heartfelt gratitude to Mazirian for running the Gallery, and everyone who came by to look at me and said nice things to me and joined me in my world for just a little while. 

(If you’re curious, I was sitting there for about 30 minutes.)

[babybearnation]

boy, you got me drunk on a feeling

⎇lance stroll x gn!reader - he accidentally drinks your drink (oneshot) ⎇author’s note: inspired by my tags on this post. also first fic in 20 days.. this is scary, actually??? ⎇content warnings: drinking/alcohol, suggestive ⎇word count: 1.3k

You smile sweetly and accept the drink Lance hands you. It's your first whereas Lance is already on his second. He slinks into the booth next to you, eagerly joining in on whatever topic of conversation Esteban, Mick & Checo had chosen. You had zoned it out before, too busy casting a careful eye across the club as you tracked the path of your boyfriend.

It wasn't that you didn't trust him and thought he'd sneak off with someone else, no, Lance would never. But... drunk Lance is clumsy Lance and drunk Lance is a Lance who's had one and a half drinks. You were just being cautious, that's all.

You can tell Lance has gotten properly drunk when he shuffles closer, still deep in conversation as he latches his arms around your midriff, his head resting against your shoulder. You smile at his clinginess and peck the top of his head before looking around the club again. To be honest, you were just here for Lance, not really a big fan of the post-race clubbing scene. Too many WAG fights for your liking.

"Baby?" You turn back to face Lance when he calls for you, your faces really close together. You smile at him, a non-verbal gesture for him to continue speaking. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yeah. Just... looking around." You say, shrugging carefully so as to not dislodge Lance's head from your shoulder. Lance frowns softly, his eyebrows furrowing, before he's sitting upright.

"Grab your drink." Lance says, trying to usher you out of the booth. You look at him in confusion, eyebrows sharply furrowed. Lance huffs and grabs your drink as well as his. "I wanna dance, come on. Let's go." Lance says. You laugh softly at his enthusiasm and pluck your bottle from his grip before allowing him to lead you over to the dance floor, your fingers tangled together.

You and Lance stuck to the edge of the dance floor, your arms around each other as you danced together. Lance was singing the occasionally lyric here and there, his voice cracking with drunken excitement. It makes you shake with laughter each time.

After what felt like hours of dancing, you stop and lean in to whisper (or rather, yell) into Lance's ear. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay? Can you take my drink back to the table for me, honey?" Lance nods and takes your half-finished drink from your hand before kissing you one last time. You watch him make his way over to the booth before turning and heading towards the bathroom.

After standing in a ridiculously long queue, you finally managed to get in and out of the bathroom, quickly pushing through throngs of people to get back to the table your boyfriend was adorably pouting at, all of his friends having disappeared.

"Lancey, honey, why do you look so upset?" You say, slipping into the booth next to him. He startles, looking up at you with wide eyes, before all but launching himself at you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

"Everyone left to get drinks. I stayed here for you!" Lance slurs. He's had more to drink since you left, you note. You look around for your drink, noting only empty bottles and glasses.

"And... my drink?" You ask, meeting Lance's gaze again. Lance looks around at the contents littering the table before gasping, his shoulders unfurling as he sits up straight.

"I drank it. Fuck. Y/n, baby, 'm so sorry. Forgive me." Lance whines, nuzzling his face in your neck. You chuckle softly, threading your fingers through his dark, thick strands, scratching softly. Lance continues to whine indecipherable words and you sigh, pulling his face away from your neck.

"What are you saying?" You say softly, smiling sweetly at the pretty yet intoxicated mess that is your boyfriend. His half-lidded gaze makes your stomach softly turn with lust, but you push it down. He's too drunk to be doing anything like that.

"Buy you another one. 'M sorry." Lance slurs. You think it over before shrugging. One and a half drinks won't make you that tipsy. You soon accept and before long, Lance is basically dragging you out of the booth the second you agree, giggling excitedly about making things better. You smile softly and let him lead you over to the bar.

Excluding the half of your bottle that he accidentally drank, Lance is on his seventh drink. You've already told him he has to stop after this one, but you still catch him sneaking sips of other people's drinks when he thinks you aren't looking.

"Y/n, my love, 'm sorry." Lance says, dragging the final word out. You smile at him, despite the confusion you feel. He whines and presses even closer to you, his lips pursed out in an alcohol-slick pout. You lean down and peck his lips, startling him, before he giggles excitedly, leaning up for another kiss. You deny him it.

"Why you sorry, Lance?" You ask instead, picking up your soda. You take a sip and offer some to Lance who perks up and eagerly sips from your straw, his eyes closing as he swallows down what he drank. About a third of your drink is gone now.

Lance seems to realise at the same time you do and he whines, nuzzling his face against your bicep like a cat. "Keep stealing your drinks." Lance slurs. He lifts his face up and you watch as his lip literally quivers, tears pooling in his eyes. It's adorable.

"Oh darling, it's okay. You're just thirsty, huh, baby?" You say, gently brushing your fingers over Lance's eyes. Your thumb comes away damp with unshed tears. Lance huffs before looking up with a pleading expression on his face.

"Buy you another?" Lance asks. You chuckle and lean down to kiss him again, more insistent this time. Lance whines and grips at your arms, pressing up against you. The kiss is a mess, spit smearing everywhere, but Lance is making the prettiest of sounds against your mouth, so you can't pull away just yet.

When you do finally part, Lance continues to look at you with pleading eyes. You tilt your head before remembering what he'd said before you'd kissed him. "No, honey, I'm okay. We're gonna go home soon, okay? I'm sober enough to drive." You say. Lance hums before snatching up his drink and downing the rest of it in one go.

You splutter before laughing, picking up your drink and copying him, forgoing the straw. "Bathroom first." Lance says and you allow him to lead the way, sighing in relief when you notice the lack of queue. You two quickly use the bathroom before Lance is clinging to your side again.

"Home, yeah?" You asks. Lance slurs 'home' in response before falling into a mumbled litany of 'sorry's. You shush him and sooth him through each one, but his words never trail off despite your insistent promises that it's okay and that you've already forgive him.

When you get to the car, you can't even open Lance's door for him, your boyfriend instead pressing you against the side of the car as he sloppily mouths at your neck.

"'M sorry... how do I prove 'm sorry?" Lance mumbles. The cold night air brushes against the wet patch of spit from Lance's mouth that stains your neck, and you shiver, tightening your grip on Lance's hips.

"Lance, honey, I've already forgiven you. I wasn't even mad to begin with." You say, chuckling softly when your boyfriend pouts up at you again. You sigh and roll your eyes fondly. You really ought to have learnt how dramatic Lance can be sometimes. "How about a kiss then?"

"Eighteen..." Lance murmurs. You laugh boisterously at his number choice before cupping his face, soothing a gentle thumb over the plump, pink curve of his cheek.

"Eighteen kisses for Mr. Stroll, coming up." You say, leaning in. Lance eagerly presses back against you. When you pull away, he murmurs a small one and a jolt of excitement goes through you. "You better count each and every one, baby."

"I will. Now kiss me again..."

© all rights to babybearnation 2025.

[buckysouvenir]

outlaw

pairing: bucky barnes x y/n authors note: day four!

the valentine’s day collection 2025: for the first 14 days of february, i’ll be posting a series of short stories inspired by songs, all centered around bucky barnes.

reblogs, likes and comments are always encouraged and highly appreciated! thank you ♡

Bucky Barnes doesn’t stay.

You’ve watched it happen over and over again. Women falling for the quiet storm behind his blue eyes, for the tragic past wrapped in leather and shadows. You’ve seen them smile at him like they’re the ones who will finally be enough to make him stop running.

But they never are.

Why can’t he find what he’s looking for?

Always searching, always restless—like the world itself isn’t enough to hold him. Maybe it never has been. Maybe after everything he’s been through, the idea of belonging anywhere feels more like a cage than a home.

You used to believe he would stop for you. That you could be his anchor, his reason to finally plant his feet on solid ground.

You were wrong.

Because Bucky Barnes is an outlaw, and love has never been a place he stays for long.

The first time you realized he was slipping away, you were standing on the balcony of the compound, the city lights stretching endlessly before you.

“You ever think about leaving?” he asked, his voice low, contemplative.

You frowned. “Leaving?”

His fingers tapped against the railing, his metal hand glinting under the moonlight. “Yeah. Just... getting on a bike and driving until the road disappears.”

There was something heavy in his voice, something distant. You ignored the way it made your stomach twist. “And go where?”

He shrugged. “Anywhere. Nowhere.”

You swallowed. “And what about the people you leave behind?”

Bucky didn’t answer. He just stared out into the night, his jaw tight, his grip on the railing flexing.

That was the first crack in the illusion you had built for yourself—the first sign that he was already planning his escape.

The thing about Bucky Barnes is that he never stays anywhere for very long.

And he never lets anyone get too close.

Some nights, he lets you in, just a little. There are moments when he holds you tighter than usual, when his fingers ghost over your skin like he’s memorizing the feel of you. There are times when he lets you see the cracks in his armor—the nights when he wakes up shaking, eyes wild, like he’s still trapped in a nightmare he can’t escape.

You never push. You never demand more than he’s willing to give. You just let him hold onto you, let him breathe you in like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the present.

But in the daylight, he’s already slipping away again.

It’s in the way he pulls away when you reach for his hand in front of the others. The way he never calls you his. The way he looks at the door like it’s always an option.

You should have known better than to believe you would be any different.

The night before he leaves, he kisses you like he’s trying to make a memory.

You don’t realize it at the time. You don’t know that this is the last time he’ll touch you like this, that tomorrow you’ll wake up to cold sheets and silence.

All you know is that something feels different.

His hands are desperate, his lips lingering a second too long against yours. When he pulls back, his eyes trace every detail of your face like he’s trying to memorize you.

“What’s wrong?” you whisper.

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

You don’t believe him, but you let it go.

Because Bucky Barnes never says goodbye.

When he leaves, you don’t find a note. No explanation.

The only thing he leaves behind is the necklace you gave him—a simple dog tag, worn from his constant touch.

You stare at it, your fingers trembling as you trace the letters of his name.

Somewhere, he is already moving on, already running.

It must feel so alone out there, always running away from someone. But the cruelest part?

Bucky Barnes gets nowhere.

No matter how far he goes, he’s always running in circles—haunted by his past, by his regrets, by the love he refuses to let himself hold onto.

And you can’t chase him anymore.

#taglist: @cjand10

[capcollector]

we could make this place beautiful

thinking about when bunny finally gets a day off, but she has no idea what to do with it. like prewar she was constantly working, after she woke up she had her whole journey getting shaun back, after all that she focused her energy into building up sanctuary and assisting the minutemen and railroad with establishing more community, driving out the brotherhood presence, in-between all that always going on supply runs and random quests……and she wouldn’t have it any other way. every minute was worth it. she loves being busy, and in some ways it is partially so she can just keep her mind off other things, but she genuinely just loves doing stuff. she gets stir crazy easily.

but there comes a point several months after the BoS is gone where there is just. relative quiet. there’s a collective sigh of relief, and she’s so thankful for it, but she’s not sure what to do now. she fills her time w a lot of smaller projects, like patching up parts in buildings and repainting some things, setting up/fixing furniture. she’s still a few weeks away from her due date atp so it’s not like she has a newborn to fill up her time just yet either. and eventually deacon sits her down and tells her to take a day for herself, for her own sake. she’s tired, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. you’ve done more than enough. rest. so whether she likes it or not, she’s faced w the first day off she’s had in over 200 years. and it drives her up a fucking wall. deacon tells her to just relax but she’s like. a little worried she forgot how. she almost feels bad for taking a day, like there’s so much she could be doing. but she promises him she’ll take the day off.

i think she spends a majority of the day w shaun. it’s not like she doesn’t spend time w him normally—he often tags along when she’s working on small projects in sanctuary—but today it’s just all about the two of them. eventually duncan and maccready tag along for a bit bc shaun and duncan like playing together, and bunny and mac always enjoy spending time together. just chatting while watching their kids play. the day goes on, the sun begins to set. mac has to go for his lookout shift at the red rocket, duncan and shaun decide to go inside and read some comics, and bunny is left alone.

and i think that’s when it hits her. she’s watching the sun set across the water, across the skyline of concord. the sky’s a pale blue, oranges and pinks bouncing off the clouds. the air is cool and crisp and it’s a beautiful evening…and she just starts crying. her grief finally catches up to her. it’s in this moment she understands she will never see her mother, her old friends, nora ever again. they won’t be able to meet her children, or laugh at their old inside jokes, or share a drink ever again. bunny wouldn’t change a day of what she’s been through; it was worth it to get here. it was worth it to make this place what it is now. but what she wouldn’t give for just one more day. one more day to say goodbye and hold them close, one more day to let the people from her past know they’re what made her into who she is now. one more day to say i love you, thank you for everything.

[mysticaltora8276]

Also, you’re acting ironically, rather childish, and pompous is basically assuming that because you have an opinion, you are therefore right. See this is the problem. People have with shippers like you. You pitch fits when certain episodes don’t go your way and you offer no explanation aside from “he would never act like that.” Yes, the Doctor would. Also, I would just like to say I actually don’t mind Rose, but the attitude that she displayed in season two was completely insufferable. Not helped by the fact that 10 did absolutely nothing about it. They were awful together. It’s not just me that says that as much as I get annoyed the narrative later on they even make it clear that they were destructive with each other. Even if it wasn’t properly followed up on. I mean, she dissed Sarah Jane Smith. The quintessential classic who companion out of a fit of petty jealousy. Then again, her writing, and that episode wasn’t that great either because I kind of resented the fact that they just kind of reduced her to the ex-girlfriend. Sarah Jane Smith is much more even spin off all you have to do is just watch classic stories with her in it and it’s amazing.

You can like a character and you can like a ship, but the fact is is that they’re going to be people that criticize it because they don’t blindly follow it. Heck they’re even people who liked the ship and the character and even they admit that their problems. The acting like a writer is “childish and Pomus“ just because he write something you don’t like and you provide no examples of how this is the case it kind of shows that you have no argument and you’re just pulling on the strings of shippers that are already agree with you. “Not interested in a debate“ shows me you have no argument and shows your childishness.

Because if you weren’t so childish and your tags, you would say that in the main post instead of putting in a tags which to me is the equivalent of muting under your breath instead of speaking up and saying what you think.

So the way Steven Moffat wrote The Girl In The Fireplace, now that we have access to that script, is odious, particularly in the way he handled Rose in between dialogue. Was surprised to learn he is a writer every bit as childish and pompous as the episode makes him seem.

[smilepilled]

a compilation of love letters (/community, familial, friendly, fellowship, etc.) from me, marcela, to many different people who have had a positive impact on me. please take your time to find your own blog, and please have a lovely day. i may update this throughout time, so keep an eye out for your blog handle here!

will not be in any particular order. ❤️‍🩹

BEFORE YOU GO, PLEASE KEEP IN MIND — I MAY NOT FULLY BE ABLE TO CORRELATE YOUR BLOG AND YOUR DISCORD ACCOUNT! that's a skill issue from me, and it doesnt mean i dont care-- its just extremely hard for me, personally. ive been trying to get better at it, but i hope my messages still manage to be something nice even if i didnt manage to link your blog to your personal discord presence. sorry, and thank you ♡

@radiomogai — 🎙📻📡🧮

i think not enough people say this, but you're a very important figure in the mogai community. your disclaimers and warnings to the masses that lurk through many tags and blogs are not only heard, but cherished. i remember being intimidated by you up until actually interacting with you, and youre a joy to be around. i still laugh at the time i made the christmas picture and added you as an actual radio; you are remembered fondly. i greatly appreciate your presence in this community beyond the archival, because you yourself are great. as in, a lovely company, a dear friend. i have so much i owe to you way above the themes or archival, but you also do a great job with your archive. i greatly respect you, and feel happy in your presence. thank you for being here, seriously. i hope i get the chance to do more to help you out whenever you need it. you're the one of the most patient and gentle people ive seen in this community, and its almost shocking with how people test patiences all around. thank you

@rwuffles — 🟩🟦🟥🟪🟨

mogaiblr jesus... indeed! you make such lovely things and you genuinely terrify me when i see that your queue is still at 400 after a bajillion posts (positively terrific). aside feom that, you are genuinely such a ray of sunshine, watching you play tetris leaves me in awe and the moments ive shared with you are very cherished to me. i like talking to you and youre incredibly kind, despite people testing you and The Horrors. i hope i can get to talk to you more, so i can properly get to communicate how cool you are to you, directly. your presence is strong and felt throughout the entirety of the spaces you're in; but don't forget, you're not a president or a professional, you're one of your fellows. should you ever need help or time to breathe, im sure your community will have your back-- i can definitely say i do. please be kind to yourself, and please take care. youre genuinely precious to be around and im sure a plethora of people agree. you are the little golden critter amongst us, and i feel like maybe sometimes you may not feel like it-- dont worry, we will always be here to remind you. youre the sun where your community basks and dances, and you're here with us too! thank you

@scr-ppup — 🪖🌫💣🥽

i genuinely love the stuff you cole up with, and the kindness that you extend to people-- the one of which youve also extended to me. maybe its a silly thing to mention, but youve helped me a lot in times where i couldnt even do a simple little descriprion for a flag. and it means a lot to me, regardless of how small this gesture may be to other people. you are genuinely so comforting to be around, i know i may be wrong but i feel like i have a huge bodyguard behind me chatting and drinking tea when im near you. i really like seeing you interact with people and im always happy to interact with you, even if it happens not so often. your creations never cease to amaze me and theres times where i squeal seeing something you make. you are truly one of the most badass, yet kindest people here. i mean it. thank you

@gender-mailman — ❤️‍🩹💌🩸🔪

you were one of the first people i had courage to interact with in mogaiblr, if i remember correctly-- back when i was themed as a velvet worm. your blog and presence SCREAMED friendliness (and BPD), and i just felt really reassured in it. regardless of your scrumptious creations (pallettes and symbols 🤌), you're such a ball of energy and you're so silly, and of course, extremely easy to talk to. it really makes me smile remembering when i was afraid to ask about when i should join the Evil Mogai Business, worried it'd be phrased poorly, and you just said that you did exactly what i was planning-- it was such a relief. despite the lack of recent "bug talking to you" activities, i want to thank you for the comfort youve brought to me, and the kindness youve shown whenever i talked to you. you're one of the most passionate and easily-talkable folks i know, bonus points for you being brazilian. thank you

@lovesse — 💥🎀💄💗

you are THE "popular IT girl" figure in this community, to me (unsure if you're a girl, im going purely from vibes though). as in, i've looked up to you since the very beggining. your presence is strong and assuring, and your creations are the fucking peak of this realm. some of your terms resonated so well with me that i wondered where the cameras were (jokingly of course). but aside from that, you've always been a very positive figure to me, and i'm always very happy seeing activity from you. i know you've been through a lot in this community, and i hope you don't mind bringing your presence in it up, but you've done so much for it and i need people to acknowledge it. we don't know eachother very well, and we haven't talked much outside of tumblr evil business, but your presence makes me glad. thank you for always being such a great lighthouse for the seadwellers in this community. youre a greatly inspirational figure and you are charm-maxxing (/platonic, "girl you rock!" coded?). thank you

@laughdiamond — 🌻🌿🌾🌱

you!!!! youuuu started ALL of my curiosity or this community. if i had someone to thank for making me deep-dive into goodfaith, mogai and community, its you. your blog was the first i found after the times i lurked in pinterest for the time i hoarded xenogenders and microlabels-- a linked post, and i found my way to your blog. the yaoyao conductor theme, extremely eyecandy-ful, i remember getting sparkly eyed at your blog and creations. i think i know a good amount of them from memory (but its always difficult to remmeber the names, thats my skill issue whatsoever), which goes to shoe just how much of an impact your presence around these parts had. and im not trying to be parasocial, you genuinely did help me, eye-to-eye telling you this. im sorry i never properly expressed to you my appreciation, up until it was far too late (seen as youve left this place, with rightful motive). you're always gonna be a fond memory to me, you're the nostalgia blog of this community for me. i full-heartedly thank you to no end for what your blog has done to help me, regardless of being < the blog that got me into mogaiblr >. dont ever apologize for it, either, i knoe theres negative aspects to this space but YOU are a part of the good aspects. once again, thank you for your lovely creations, thank you for what youve done for me, and thank you for your presence in times before. thank you

@lunentity — ✨️🔮🌙🪩

YOU! the moon in its mystique magnificence, giving terms to people like meteors with fun gifts from the cosmos. you are such an ICON to me, genuinely such a huge inspiration as well. talking to you is also never scary or the like, youre such a kind and easy-going person. surely im not the closest to you, but it doesn't take away from what i say, you are extremely easy to be around, and thats something i really appreciate. im always happy to tag you in a post with the moon mentioned, or something that i see and go "OH! MOONY WOULD LOVE THIS!" on the spot. you are extremely kind and sweet, like a cold day when youre wrapped in 4 heavy blankets playing animal jam with a bag of snacks and soda. your presence is felt in what is reassuring and friendly. i have not checked up on you lately, but i hope you're okay, and all is well for you. you're such a kind and heart-warming person, i am grateful for our interactions and convos. thank you

@kiruliom — 🧸🌸🌊🩸

we may not interact a whole lot, but YOU are so whimsical. no, seriously, you are so joyful its astonishing. and you always manage to keep your cheermaxxed status despite speaking up on multiple important topics, which i find very balance pilled and awesome. youre not scary despite your ghostface motifs, and i think youre like a uncle/aunt figure (whichever word you personally would use), a kind of distant yet kindly relative in the eyes of the liomogai community; which i also strive to be, so its nice to see YOU recreate it so well. we havent talked (much?) personally, so i think this is more how i view you currently havent spoken not to you in personal. you remind me of the animal jam Crystal Sands OST, and thats one of the biggest compliments i can give-- its very directly related to you being comforting, so i hope you know your presence is very welcoming. your terms are a CHEF'S KISS to me, and i feel very happy whenever you post. i think

@buntress — 🐇🧨🔪🔗

i look up to you like an autistic little thing staring up with HUGE bug eyes. i am to this day so sorry and apolocheeseful for the pride star incident, but i know youve since understood that i made a mistake and youre chill about it. i LOVE your terms, and i swallow your posts without chewing on them like a sucuri giant brazilian snake. genuinely feel very happy when i see a post from you, or when interaction occurs. youre so so cool and kick-ass to me, youre like the big sibling that i see being punk rock and cheer on. i dont even know if youre older than me, probably so, but regardless youre SUPER cool. like the punk rock hare of the punk rock club. despitw that, you're super kind and nice to talk to, and i want to make sure i get some more interaction action (/caseoh phrase) with you, because you're genuinely super friend coded. im sorry i didnt say much, but i hope its enough to at least make you smile, you definitely deserve it. thank you

@the-astropaws — 🥀🪶♥️🧸

prepare for trouble, and make it double... to the two QUEERS running this blog, you two are too kind to be real sometimes. i genuinely love the stuff made around these parts (the blog), and how you speak up about issues in the community with eloquence and well-put wording. i appreciate this blog and the two persons behind it; you two are super swell to be around. i still remember the purple theme and it makes me happy to remember that i remember the theme, becahse it means you two made your way into my head properly. thank you for your presence so much, its so stress-free to send an ask or talk to you, and i know we may not have interacted a whole lot but i appreciate your presences greatly. thank you so so so much for being around, and for your gentle words. thank you

@rabidbatboy — 🪰🩸🦴⛓️

alright... who's SLURRING it up around here? okay, anyways, your posts and creations have given me so much closure and happiness. and thats that. your roachgirl, muttgirl, roachdyke and gay flags are so good it makes me want to recite popular tiktok phrases like "DROP ANOTHER COINING POST, AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!!!" or the like. your presence is INCREDIBLY strong and felt whenever you're around-- i can easily, immediately go "oh thats the fightclub guy! thats the uncledyke! ohhhh thats the punk ass dude from tumblr! oh hell yeah!" when i see you talking. and despite the fact you are a very strong figure, you're ironically really easy to talk to! i actually used to be very intimidated by and < Oh My God You Can Actually Kill Me If You Decide To Do So Please Spare This Bug> towards you, but noe you're just... fellow uncle. fellow dudebro. i feel very happy whenever i see you because it means youre out there rawdogging life, and that means i've got a chance too. i love your fight club references and your entire vibe, you are very positively what i can describe as "the type of person that makes me want to get competitive". but even with that, youre incredibly patient and generous (despite how people test your patience). thank you

@nqvo — 🦢🪞🌫🪷

my nephew. my sweet nephew. oh you absolute struggler, you NEED to make more terms that people will love instead of assets that people will steal. you get so rightfully pissed at the things ed*tblr has going on, and i think you would profit from a change of space, because holy hell does it hurt when i get close to editblr instead of coinblr. you're always so fucking angry and i'm HERE for it! i love listening to you complain and make the points you make, because SOMEHOW you're always correct about things, and it baffles me that your rage is contained despite the horrors you witness and endure. but aside from that, i treasure you as family and im so glad to know you and be able to share a GROUPCHAT with you. whenever i hear you talk of your interests and when you have the faggotry episodes, i feel very happy. your happiness is important to me, and i better fucking see you start being nicer and nicer and nicer and nicer to yourself. youre unbelievably well put together considering how much people push your buttons, sometimes i wish i could send meteors to the people bothering you, or that you give them a piece of your mind. but you and i know its not worth it, so i'll also be glad to hear what you have to say in the < melancholic rupture far deep into the sea >, amongst our friends. people like you a lot, son (/like a old dude talking to a young lad), and i hope you see that its all because you're YOU, not anything else. your bravery and your perseverance make me hope for better times, and i hope you can let yourself ask for help whenever you need it-- to me, or in general. your friends love you, and we all got you. thank you

@praysia — 🎧💠🎀🔌

tranny... faggot... dyke... slur-a-tron... my best friend in slurhood. the slurmaxxer. you are such a lovely friend and i love to hear your yap sessions, and i absolutely adore when you talk about your manmade horror yaois. i love slinging slurs at you and when you use the :pathetic: emoji. you are genuinely such a great friend and your presence makes me raise my arms into the air and go "THE SLURS ARE HERE!!!!". please never ever shut the fuck up or im gonna die miserably like a slug with salt on it. please never give up. youre very motivational to me because youve been through so many life-ending things and still you persist. i like to punch you and stuff haha cool dynamic, but i also genuinely appreciate when youre around. i may not know you all too well on the idyera iceberg, but i sure as hell appreciate you regardless. youre like if the phrase "man's best friend" was a person, because youre a stupid dog and one of the best friends i have, even if you havent unearthed your most horrifying life stories near me. i dont need you to, i just know youre my good friend fagalo. dearest fagoba seradykei mutual. i will hase you with hammers and hold you up into the air. thank you for being here to this day, you fucking liberal!!!!!! youre a joy to be around and i always smile when im near you. youre like a fountain of joy, despite being a mentally ill bitch; youre seriously a lovely person to be around, and i hope you feel like you can rely on me when you need help, even if youre more of a haf than me. thank you

@arachnwife — ⚙️🌈🔪🎉

you are so correct all the time it almost makes me angry (positively). i love seeing you in convos and i love the stuff you make, and im SOOO fucking happy you made a icon blog because ive been complaining about exclusionist icon makers for the past months, and youre like jesus christ coming back for making a icon blog without being a prick... i love conversations with you, and whenever i spot you its like the animal jam best guess game and im winning the spider questions. i also have a passing feeling, a slight suspicion that you might like ticci toby (just a mere impression HEHSHRHKRKTK). youre so chill its almost like eating ice cream and getting brainfreeze-- without the agony though, positively chilling. thank you for being around. i really really want to talk to you more so sometimes i show up and say something and pray for god to bestow a convo upon us. but i'll keep putting more effort into talking to you, because you are PAWESOME! very nice to be around you. keep up the good shtuff up dude, i really appreciate it. thank you

e

@icwdtea / @puriette-archived — 🐶🧣🍰🍁

OUPY!!!!! THATS OUPYYYY!!! THATS OOMPHIEEEE!!!! MY OOMPHIE OUPYYYY... THE MUSIC MISER!!!! you are the physical manifestation of the autumn season to me. i can layer clothes, get nice and cozy, feel the chill fresh breeze on my face, but never will i have to freeze, overheat, or be uncomfortable around you. you've gone and you go through so much, and it only ever seems to make you be kinder to defy bitterness-- and thats something big. something special, shiny, precious, and i think it perfectly represents you; youre warm like < three fluffy blankets > during a freezing winter night, a sweet and soft slice of cake with tons of chocolate involved (icing, filling, etc.), youre like a hug from a old friend you havent seen in forever. you, too, are like the word "man's best friend", much like our slurmaxxing canine friend; you are the peace after a horrible storm, you are the tbeautiful things in life, a smile exchanged between one and a stranger. you are the sweet melodies of music without vocals, the gentle humming of a loving familiar, the warm air around a fireplace. your kindness and your loveliness may be accompanied by rabid behavior, but that will never take away from your love-natured self. you are so many goof things i cannot say, and i hope you know it goes beyond just being perceived-- its something you are, and im grateful for you being around to this day. i hope we can talk more often. thank you

[slimybeth69]

Que Será, Será: Part 9

Rating: Explicit- Smut, violence, drinking/drug use. MDNI!!

Summary: It's almost twenty years after some weird outbreak almost happened but the CDC took care of that...Now you're living in Austin, Texas as an adult.What happens when you meet Joel Miller who hasn't been hardened and ruined by twenty years of murder and loss?Warnings/Tags: DaddyDom!Joel/ you. no use of y/n. No physical description of the reader besides one tattoo. Reader has a background story. Drinking/drug use. Slow burn. Smut. Angst. Cheating. Graphic depictions of violence. Eventual loss of virginity. Use of nicknames/pet names (lil girl, baby girl.) DD/lg dynamics. BDSM play.

Unbeta'ed. WIP. Cross-posting from my Ao3.Chapter

Warnings: drinkings, bar fights, reader gets injured, Joel is a DICK. SMUT!! SO MUCH!!! IT'S HAPPENING EVERYONE. IT'S HAPPENING.

It’s been two weeks since your little drinking, spanking, shopping and swapping shenanigans. Joel (your boyfriend) has spent the night at least…nine or ten times and each time he brings you something. Four times it was flowers, another time he brought dinner. The next night he brought you sex toys. Real sex toys and didn’t even ask to watch you use them. Just left them on your bedside table before he left for work and then kissed you goodbye while you slept. 

He doesn’t ask you to come over after you said you feel bad about leaving your brand new cat. Who is…perfect and sweet. She is a snuggly baby and just wants love and scratches. She looooves Joel. Meows at him all the time and he acts annoyed by it but you know he loves it. He’s so nice and sweet to her. Picks her up and puts her in his lap when he thinks you aren’t looking. He just wants to pet her and be nice to her. 

It’s going to be awkward if and when Sam and Cody ever come home. Another grown man…older than both of them sleeping in their basement? Awesome. Sam–if she ever gets better– is going to lose her mind that this man is twenty years older than you. She’s also going to have a sarcastic mouth and say something about him being old enough to be your dad and… Joel doesn’t like that very much. Not at all, actually. So. 

You guys get it…more than you would think. People are just openly telling you and your dad to have a great day. Enjoy your meal. Have fun. Why are people okay with outwardly assuming the older gentleman you’re with is your dad? Huh? Weird. Joel does not let go of your hand or your ass everywhere you go because he hates it so much. It’s been a struggle.

But not enough to make him not wanna see you anymore.

Joel is taking you to the bar tonight to meet Tommy, his brother. Your boyfriend (never gets old) told you that you’ve probably seen Tommy before. He comes into the store too. You're racking your brain of every man who has ever come through your line before. Ones that look like Joel? None. Maybe. You dunno. You see so many guys all day long. 

Tommy recognizes you though. Sure does. 

“You rejected me a couple months ago.” Tommy snickers softly as he shakes your hand. “But you’ll date my asshole older  brother? I see. I see you.” Tommy gives you the universal – index and middle fingers pointed at his eye then to yours– motion that says ‘I see you’. It’s fine. You do not care. Joel is your type and Tommy is no Joel. 

Tommy is alright though. You’re shocked you turned him down as you all sat at a booth near the back of the bar with drinks. His hair is longer, shoulder length and darker than Joel’s. Mustache and a goatee. He never asked for your number… He’s lying. Maybe. 

“You like Austin?” Tommy sips on his beer after he asks. 

“It’s alright. I liked living in Jersey. I didn’t really wanna move. It was just hard finding a job up there…but it was just as hard down here.” You snort and take a sip of your drink as Joel relaxes. He said in the car he was sore and he needed a massage later. You would give him one in hopes he would fuck you. He still hasn’t. It’s fine. You’re not upset about it. 

“Hardware store treat you good? Joel told me ‘bout your truck and your computer. Sucks. Sorry.” Tommy seems like a nice guy. 

“They’re nice to me. Give me the same schedule that I like. Don’t make me work late. I don’t love it, but I don’t hate it.” You shrug your shoulders. “Do you like working with Joel?” You feel a gentle and slow moving hand on your bare thigh, Joel’s hand under the skirt of your sundress.. A comforting touch. 

“S’alright. All I’ve ever done. I started right after I graduated high school— did that early.” Tommy smiles at himself proudly. 

“That’s fuckin’ cool. Did you do any night classes or anything like that to go to college smarty pants?” You tease him nicely. He chuckles and shakes his head. 

“Nooo. Stayed here and just worked for this miserable fuck. Probably will for the rest of his life.” Tommy jokes and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“I’m fuckin’ retiring soon. Fuck that shit. You take over. You do this shit.” He grumbles and sips his beer. 

“I’ll take over, shiiit. Been waiting to hear those words.” Tommy shakes his head in a sense of disbelief and excitement and is smiling. It’s a cute brother interaction and it’s good to see that they’re close. Tommy doesn’t actually hate him you don’t think. So that’s good. Joel is moving his hand all up and down your leg and moving it in towards your inner thigh, squeezing you tightly with his rough fingers. 

“I’m thinkin’ next year or two. Nothin’ too long.” Joel sounds reassuring to Tommy. 

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Tommy rolls his eyes and finishes his beer. “Y’all want another?” You and Joel both say yes and as soon as Tommy is out of earshot, Joel leans in and whispers in your ear. 

“Open your legs.” Then he kisses you on the cheek and leans back against the booth. You open your legs slowly and Joel doesn’t tease or anything, he's inside your panties and he slides one thick, stiff finger through your folds, pulls his hand from under your dress and offers his finger that was just trailing up your other set of lips. You open your mouth and he smears your juices on your tongue, withdraws his finger and then sucks it clean with his mouth. “Close ‘em.” Joel nudges your knee with his under the table and you snap them shut as Tommy walks up. 

They start to talk and you have no time to talk to him about what he just did. In public! Indecency!! Getting arrested?? He had scared you in the parking lot when he said you could get arrested!! No thank you. Your back is sweating from that. Kinda hot… 

“Hey,” Joel nudges you with his elbow and drags you back to the bar and out of fucking thinking about becoming a registered offender for Joel. You’re being spoken to and not responding. Tommy is asking you something. 

“Did you go to school?” 

“Um, for a little bit and then I found a job I loved and didn’t wanna go. Wasn’t going…” You chuckle that last part nervously. “Partied a little and just would sleep through class. Wasting money.” You shrug your shoulders. You can feel Joel’s eyes on you but you don’t look up at him. 

“Damn. I went to a couple of college parties. Fuckin’ pretty wild shit happenin’ there.” Tommy is doing nothing to help your case. 

“Dumb shit.” You snort and avoid the quizzical eyes that that are being given to you by your boyfriend. You left out the parties when he asked. Dunno why you said anything tonight. Idiot. 

“Hell yeah. Saw some wild shit…” Tommy’s eyes are flicking between you and Joel and he’s smirking. “Your man over there know what kinda wild shit you was gettin’ into?” He snickers into his beer glass. 

“I wasn’t getting into any wild shit. Just drinking too much.” You roll your eyes and finally look up at Joel who is just… lookin’ at you. “I wasn’t gettin’ into wild shit!” You exclaim and he smirks. 

“Sure.” Then he goes back to talking to Tommy. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back” You stand to go to the bathroom after letting Joel know and try and find it in this maze of a bar. You find it a minute later. You look nice tonight. Did your make up all pretty and actually did something pretty with your hair. You're happily looking at yourself in the mirror and two girls walk in– pretty girls. They look at you. You look at them. It’s quiet for two seconds. 

“I love your dress!” One of them exclaims excitedly. They fawn over your simple navy blue dress. It’s knee length. Nothing fancy but they hype you up in the bathroom and make you feel so nice. What a good drunk girl bathroom experience. You’re on cloud nine walking back to the booth when chaos erupts beside you at the bar. You have no time to scramble away before the tall bar chairs are being knocked over and hitting you in the legs. It hurts! People start shouting–

“Fuck you– stupid fucking pussy bitch. You won’t do shit. You fucking wont”

“Fuckin’ lets go outside. Fight me outside pussy. One-on-one. Me n’ you, fucker.” 

They do not wait and are throwing punches so quickly and moving so fast. You are overtaken by them and do not even realize what is happening as you take elbows and maybe a fuckin’ fist to the eye!? What was that!? Jeeeesus that hurt– whatever the fuck it was– but it doesn’t stop! They are fighting and now more people from the bar are jumping in to fight or break it up. 

Soft, small hands are on yours and pulling you out of the way but someone falls and breaks your grip and now you’re stumbling backwards towards more fighting men and now, fighting women. They aren’t asking who is involved. Just throwing punches and you take one to the left tit and someone kicks you in the back of the thigh!! What the fuck!! Now, you’re mad and you are also fucking punching and kicking people. What the fuck!? Who just doesn’t let the girls get outta the way first??? 

One of the two original guys is on the ground, and he definitely hit you or elbowed you (on accident, but still). You give him two good stomps to the shoulder for whatever he did to you and then… you get a real punch to the face. The fist is big, feels like a boulder against your skull. There is so much force behind it. You're stunned. One that sends you into tunnel vision and it’s blurry and you’re in pain. Real pain. None of that other shit hurt like this. Hoooly shit. Your eye is on fire. It might have fucking fallen out. Jeeeeus. You're stumbling away, almost falling down to the ground. More people are on top of you. You are fighting them off of you. 

You're trying to stand up in this mob of people and your hand gets stepped on and it hurts. Your dress is all hiked up to your stomach. The bar floor is sticky and there are hands on you. Not even trying to be groping or touching you the way they are, they're just as desperate to get out of this sea of hot, sweating bodies. Finally, you're on your knees and someone pushes you forward into someone another girl. You've never seen her before, and now the eye that hurt before it's stinging and you can barely see out of it. You see out of your good eye that she is getting ready to fight you for slamming into her, she has her first cocked back but you beat her to it, you slam your closed fist right between her eyes and now, the hand that has been stepped on and now punched into someones skull-- sends fire to your brain. More new pain as you push yourself to your feet while still being all jostled around.

More small, soft, girly hands are on yours immediately pulling you out of the way. It’s one of the girls from the bathroom. She is all messed up too, her hair and make up. Missing one of her fake eyelashes. Over her shoulder you have just enough time to see Joel with his hand around the throat of some guy, you hope the one who hit you and is pinning him to the wooden bar. Joel’s other fist is cocked back and he sends it forward. You can’t watch but you can hear it. Hear his fist connecting with that guy’s face. 

Fuck. Your face hurts real bad. Guy’s hands are on you but you already know they are not Joel’s so you start to push them off you angrily but Tommy’s voice is in your ear.

“Joel wants me to get you out of here.” Tommy is shouting over the commotion and noise and the screaming. It’s so loud. You’re still wincing as the guy Joel is holding to the bar starts to fight back. Tommy is leading you out of the bar through the fire exit and an alarm goes off but outside it’s finally… not chaos. 

“Shit! You okay!?” Tommy takes your face in his hands and inspects your eye. There is a comfort behind his touch that brings tears to your eyes before he brings ones of pain to them!

“I’m fine. It just— shit! Don’t fuckin' touch it!” You snap at him when he runs his hand over whatever is causing you pain. He pulls his hand away and there is blood on his thumb. “Is that my blood?!” You exclaim and bring one hand to your eye and the pain is coming from high on your upper lid near the outer edge of your brow. Stinging, burning and dull throbbing. Blood on your fingers!! You don’t have your purse or phone or anything. It’s all inside. Your hurt eye is still stinging. So bad. You have blood in your eye and it hurts! So badly! Where is your boyfriend!? Why is his brother taking care of you!? 

People come pouring out of the bar from every door. You and Tommy are looking for Joel for so long before he comes out of the bar… looking really angry. He’s got your bag, jacket and phone in his hand but he’s pointing at you accusingly shouting at you before he is even close enough for you to hear him but he keeps yelling until you can.

“Grow the fuck up!�� He barks at you loudly. “Fightin’ at the bar? Really?!” He shouts at you and you’re so confused. As Joel gets closer, Tommy steps between the two of you like Joel… might do something if he didn’t. 

“I wasn’t fighting!!” You shout back at him. 

“I fuckin’ saw you!! Throwing fuckin’ fists! Ya fuckin’ serious!?” Joel is still pointing at you but over Tommy’s shoulder. Tommy keeps trying to talk to Joel who looks so fucking angry at you, but Joel keeps moving his head to see you. Joel has blood on his knuckles but his face is fucking fine so why is he yelling at you!? He was fighting too!

"You were fighting!! I saw you!!" You shout at him with more tears rolling down your face. Joel erupts-- pushing Tommy away, stumbling backwards until he regains his balance and get's between you and Joel again

"Beating up the fucker that pushed you!! For you to turn around and punch that fuckin' lady!" Joel screams at you. "She do that to you!? GOOD! S'whatchya get for fighting!" 

“A guy punched me–” You sob as tears roll down your cheeks, trying to explain yourself but he doesn’t let you finish. 

“Shut the fuck up! Grow—” Joel stops mid sentence and takes you in, really looks at you for the first time since he came outside. See's how badly you're beat  “A guy hit you!? Who!? Which fuckin’ one!?.” Joel is twisting his head around looking for whoever did it to you.

“Duh!!!! You fucking asshole!” You shout at him. “I don’t know who did it!! I got fucking punched in the face!!” You’re screaming a little and storm off towards his truck. You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder and now Tommy and Joel are fighting. Tommy is trying to get Joel to give you a minute, or Joel himself a minute to cool down. Joel is not letting it happen, shoving his brother in the chest, talking shit– being an asshole. You don’t even care if they fight. Fuck this. You keep going towards the truck until you hear the sound no one wants to hear. 

An expensive phone dropping on a hard surface. Pavement in this case. You close your eyes and keep walking because you already know it was yours and it’s probably broken and you can’t think about it. Won’t.You’re still sobbing as you get to Joel’s truck.

This night didn’t happen. 

Your face says a different story in the side mirror of Joel's truck. There is evidence that it did happen. You’re black and blue on your right eye and have an inch long laceration right below your eyebrow. Bleeding. Dripping down the side of your face– which is numb– and down your chin and onto your pretty dress. Your hand is all black and blue. You inspect the back of your thigh and it is also, black and blue. With a red shoe print right In the middle. You sob softly against the car and just want Joel to take you home and never talk to you again. 

The truck unlocks while you’re standing against the door. You open it before Joel has the chance to do it for you and climb in. You don’t even look at him when he gets in. He just sits next to you silently for so long. Feels like an hour of him just listening to you cry. 

“I'm sorry. Jus' slipped outta my hand. I’ll getchya a new one tomorrow. Better one.” He murmurs softly. “N’ I’m sorry fer’ yelling at you. Tellin' ya t'shup up.” He reaches over the console now to touch your shoulder but you pull away, still crying. “I am sorry. I was just mad n’ all fuckin’.. I dunno. Just...” 

“Just fuckin’ yellin' at me.” You sob. “I’m bleeding!” You turn to him and show him the blood on your face that he can clearly see. He nods and leans over the console to inspect it. You let him, let him touch your chin gently in his fingers to turn your head so you'll look at him. His other hand pulls the skin above your eyebrow up so he can inspect how deep the wound is. It hurts when he does that so you whimper and clench your eyes shut. He sucks his teeth softly and sadly. 

“I’m gonna take you to the hospital. Y'need stitches.” he leans in and steals a gentle kiss before you can stop him, you honestly, don't even want to. "I am sorry. So sorry." He murmurs against your lips with desperation in his tone. He has your blood on his cheek when he pulls away– and you mindlessly wipe it off with your thumb, and then feel fucking stupid for caring about that when he didn't care to begin with. "I really am.” He starts the truck and drives towards the emergency room. You say nothing.

You need six stitches. Joel is driving you home two hours later in silence. You don’t even have a phone to look at. Smashed to fuck. Because your boyfriend is an asshole. Neither one of you say anything until he pulls into your driveway. 

“So…I’m not leavin’...” Joel starts to explain, you try and argue with him but he narrows his eyes on yours and it silences you. “I had a lil plan fer’ tonight… n’ it looks like yer’ too mad at me for that to happen–” Joel is still talking but you don’t even really hear him. You speak over him. He keeps talking and you tune back into what he is saying. "--leavin'. I don't gotta sleep in yer' bed. I'll stay on the couch but we're talkin' 'bout this tomorrow. We have to. I gotta buy you a new phone..." He trails off shaking his head in shame for himself for acting the way he did. 

“You were gonna… fuck me tonight?” You scoff and squint your eye at him. The other one is a lil swollen. Joel nods and shrugs his shoulders.

“I thought it’d be fun, have a couple drinks… loosen up a lil. Fuck you all night. 'Cause I know ya really want it. Yer' excited for it. Not nervous n' shy.” Joel looks down at his hands as he speaks. 

“That an excuse to get you inside?” You ask softly. Joel shakes his head. 

“I been knew we were gon’ do this tonight. Couple days ago-- when we decided to have you meet Tommy.” Joel chuckles. “Fuckin’ shoulda just done it a long time ago.” He scoffs softly like he is annoyed with himself. “Was gon’ have you wear that lil white thang I got you. Was gonna fuckin'... defile you in that thang.” He turns his head to look at you and frowns. “I don’t wanna leave, Bird. I wanna talk 'bout it. Don't gotta do nothin'. Talk in the mornin'?” He pleads with you softly and quietly. 

“I don't need to talk about it. I have one thing to say." You look at him with the most honest, and innocent eyes you have because you are. You're a nice girl who doesn't fight at the bar. You want to be a good girl for him but, not if this is the kind of person he's going to be to you. "If you ever yell at me like that again…you’ll never get a chance to apologize for it. I mean it.” You snap at him and open the door to his truck and jump down. Your door isn’t even shut before Joel is beside you. He lets you lead him to the front door and watches you unlock it, his hands on your waist. 

“I’m sorry. I'll be better. I will.” Joel whispers in to your ear as he trawls his hands along your sides and over your stomach. Once the door is open, the front of one of his thighs press against the backs yours and he pushes your leg into the house slowly, and then does it with the other as he walks you into the entryway. “Sorry.” He whispers once more against the nape of your neck as his hands roam across the front of you. 

“I know.” You lean back against his chest and now he pulls you into him, kissing your skin softly. “I’m still mad though!” You pull away from him but he holds you against him and speaks quickly to stop your pushing and fighting hands on his arms around you.

“You should be.” It's spoken firmly against the crook of your neck and makes you stop fighting him. “I get.. I dunno– seein' you get pushed by that guy... I got fuckin' scared. N' then I turn around n' see you fighting? I got mad. Like an asshole-- I say shit I don’t mean.” He sounds ashamed. 

“S’why your wife left?” You ask sharply and are not even scared because if he gets mad again, he can fuckin’ leave. 

“Partially.” Joel sighs. “She was just as bad, Bird.” Joel holds his arms out from behind you and twists them in each direction so you can see all those scars. “Not from workin’.” Joel kisses your neck again and his warm breath feels staggered like he is nervous to be talkin’.

“She did this to you?” You whisper quietly in shock. 

“Fer’ three fuckin’ years.” He groans and then pulls his arms away. “I hate talkin’ ‘bout it, don’t fuckin’ wanna, really. What else you wanna know?” Joel sighs softly from behind you. 

“You ever hit her back?” You’re not sure you wanna know, but you kind of need to know. 

“Once.” Joel whispers and his body is gone from behind yours. You turn and he’s leaning against the front door with the heels of his hands pressed into his eyes. “Fuckin’... the night ‘fore she took off. We were fightin’, n’ she just wouldn’t let up.” He doesn’t remove his hands, sounds angry to be talking about it and is starting to speak a little more aggressively. “Non stop. All night. Scratchin’, wailin’ on me somethin’ fuckin’ terrible. Callin’ me a bad dad– been a dad for two weeks mind you, workin’ my ass off day in n’ out for those that lil girl n' that bitch who fuckin' hit me.” Joel finally rips his hands away from his eyes and is shaking his head, with an angry smile on his face. “I fuckin’ just… I dunno, lil tap on her mouth-- t’ shut her up. After three fuckin’ years of puttin’ up with it.” Joel tosses his hands in the air and puts his hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go–” You try and stop him even though you are still mad at him. Those patterned scars on his arms? Her fucking fingernails and that's heartbreaking. Makes you so fucking sad that he put up with that for so long because he just wanted to be a dad.

“I need a fuckin' minute—” He says sharply. “I'm not takin’ my bullshit out on you– again.” Then he opens the door, steps out onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. 

What the hell is going on? 

You go to the basement because, poor Joel. Your battered and beaten– That fuckin’ bitch of an ex-wife of his better hope you never have to meet her. You’ll put your hands on her in ways Joel couldn’t. Sure fuckin’ will. You’re so mad thinking about it while you change out of your bloody dress and into that lil white lace thing Joel got you. 

You’re losing your virginity tonight. You don’t care what he says or if he wants to (you’re not gonna do that), you also don’t care that you have a black eye and a laceration with stitches. No. You’re going to fuck your boyfriend and make him less sad for having a terrible ex-wife that he— You gasp audibly even though no one is around to hear– thankfully. Joel is going to have to see her at his daughter's wedding. Stupid, man beatin’ bitch. Joel should have just left but… you’ve never been in an abusive relationship. So…you have no room to talk. You are going to fuck him. You're partially a little mad at him, mostly feel kinda bad that his wife used to hit him. Want him to remember how good n' tight your pussy is if he ever sees her again and gets sucked back into whatever bullshit she was dishing out that kept him around for so long. 

You're gonna do your damnedest to seduce your boyfriend and get him to fuck you. You need it more than he does honestly. You got punched in the face--- fuuck. Your PHONE!? You cannot even think about it because you'll lose all sense of feeling bad for him and go out there and spit on him not nicely. Okay. Sex with Joel. 

You’ll just be there for him if and when he comes inside to see you ready in bed. Splayed out so he can fucking use you if he needs to. You don't care. You cleaned up all the blood and honestly…ya don’t look half bad. You look sexy as hell in that lil white thang and your black eye. He won’t be able to resist. If he ever comes inside…he’s been out there for so long. 

It’s hard to not go inspecting when he’s out there for a half hour. Just sitting on one of the chairs on the porch. You could go outside. Sam and Cody’s house faces a giant field and has no neighbors across from them and it’s late. You’re fuckin’ in your lil white thing. Shit. Fuck. Doesn’t matter. He is your boyfriend and he is sad. You open the door and take a deep breath, getting ready to be almost naked outside. 

“Hi.” You stand with your feet together after you step out and turn to him. He doesn’t look up at you, just stares at his hands. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” He grumbles to himself. “I just feel like an ass.” He still doesn’t look up. 

“I know. You should for what happened at the bar. But, we can talk another time about it. Come inside with me.” You feel like an ass to for being out here like this. Cody and Sam…have neighbors on either side of their house…so someone could fuckin’ see you. 

“I need another minute, babe. I'm so--” Joel turns his head to look at you and stops mid-sentence. “Woah.” He sighs softly. “Yer' like a pretty lil angel.” Joel smirks and his eyes trace every voluptuous curve of your body before his eyes find yours. “You want Daddy t’fuck you tonight– all night? S'why you put that on? For me?” He asks softly, turning his body in the chair, resting one elbow on the armrest. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You nod at him and he pushes himself out of the chair. 

“Where you want it?” He growls softly. “Out here?” Joel raises one eyebrow and you freeze in fear and start to panic but Joel smirks and takes three steps so he can be in front of you, turning you so your back is to the front door. “Get yer’ ass in that bed, right now.” His kisses are long and desperate as your hand searches for the doorknob that is somewhere on the door behind you. He finds it for you and leads you inside, downstairs and to the bed. 

There is a trail of his clothes from the front door to where he has you now. On your bed. Naked between your legs. Both of you are quivering and searching endlessly for more air as you’re reduced to a puddle as he slides his length over your cunt through that little triangle of white fabric that separates the two of you. 

“Might hurt a lil.” Joel whispers down to you as he rolls his hips into yours softly. He’s been doing this as he kisses you, teasing you with nibbling bottom lip kisses and naughty words for several minutes and now he’s is like hot steel between your legs. “I’m sorry if it does hurt at all. Imma go slow the first time as long as y’need me to.” He whispers as just the tips of your noses touch softly. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah..” You’re so fucking nervous and excited and feel like you’ll never catch your breath again. 

“I like bein’ this close to ya, but…I gotta watch.” Joel kisses you softly and leans back so he can look between your two bodies that meet right in the center. “Fuuuck.” Joel whispers to only himself as he grinds himself into you. “You wanna keep that sexy lil thong on? Don’t care?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours as one of his strong hands slips into the delicate string on the side. 

“You gonna rip it?” You ask with a smirk. He nods silently. “Do it.” Joel purses his lips together and yanks the elastic from the triangle of fabric and then does the same thing with the other side- discarding it on the floor. 

Joel seems just as nervous as you as he wraps one fist around his throbbing length. He strokes himself a couple times as he kneels in front of you. It’s already so hard and… so big. Fuck. Okay. You got this. He’s not doing anything. Just looking at your pussy and his cock he’s stroking right above it. He’s breathing just as heavy as you are. 

“Ready?” Joel flicks his eyes up to yours and you nod. “Gimmie.” Joel taps your hips with his hand and you push your hips up as he reaches forward and grabs two pillows and puts them under your hips. When you set them down, you’re angled up to him. “Perfect.” 

The tip of his cock is so much hotter than you could have ever expected him to be. So fucking hot, it’s like it’s burning you as he traces the outside of your cunt with it. You’re staring at him– watching his cock tease your pussy and you cannot help but wonder who he is teasing more. Himself or you? 

“Fuck me, Daddy.” You whine softly, batting your eyelashes. Joel’s eyes flick up to yours and they are dark and a little scary and he’s got his brows pinched together softly. 

“Shut up, lil brat. Daddy’s doin’ something.” He growls at you, the one hand on your outer thigh strokes you gently and comfortingly as he speaks. Doesn’t grip you or spank you at all. He drops his eyes back down to your dripping center and he sighs softly. “M'Fuckin’...lookin at it. Shut th'fuck up.” He sighs much softer now as he pushes the head of his cock between your folds to drag it up and down the length of your slit. 

“You shut up.” You coo up to him softly, biting your bottom lip. Joel smirks, snorts softly and looks up at you. 

“You like bein’ a lil bratty, bitch?" Joel hisses this question at you angrily, "'Cause this old man fuckin’ loves it.” He smirks, leans down to kiss your forehead before pulling away to watch as he continues to torture you. “Fuckin’ tellin’ me t’shut up. Who’re you? A lil bitch.” Joel speaks softly as the tip of him reaches the entrance. “Fuuuck. Fuck. Okay. Ready? I’m gon’ go slow.” Joel’s eyes can’t leave where you two are about to be joined, honestly, neither can yours. 

“Yeah, please. Put it in me.” You whisper softly and make Joel sigh softly. 

“Say that again.” He demands quietly.

“Put it in me, Daddy. Please.” Your voice is trembling like you might fucking cry from the anticipation of all of this. Been almost close to two months of teasing and licking and fingers. You didn’t even use those toys he got you…not yet. You will. You didn’t want to put anything inside of you before him. 

Joel says nothing as he pushes the tip inside of you. That’s not bad. It goes in with no resistance. He pushes in a little further and there is stretching. A lot of it. Stretching you full. So tight. You close your eyes and let your head fall back. You breathe through that pinching and uncomfortable rasping— pulling inside of you. Pulling you apart. Your pussy was leaking and made it so easy for him to slip into you though, you didn’t resist him, your cunt accept him happily but it still was so full. 

You’re reduced to whimpering through your nose at the new mix of pleasure as the length of him slides across your spongy, raised patch for the first time. It’s…incredible. Fingers are awesome, and toys are cool. 

Joel’s cock is so unyielding, so fucking rigid and hot as it’s stretching you, but when it snakes across that good spot– it’s like silk, smooth and comforting asthe tip of him, or anything ever, kisses your cervix for the first time. It’s a jolt that snaps your eyes open and makes you squeak. Joel’s eyes snap up to yours as his dark patch of pubic hair and the patch right above your slit intermingle as he sinks into you. 

“Lil squeakin’ baby okay?” God the way he fucking talks to you should piss you off. It should make you so fucking mad. You should make him get off of you but you do not because you love it. Joel holds his hips into yours, pressed tightly against you as you adjust to him. Your muscles and walls are clenching and unclenching around him as he delays his pleasure for your comfort. Joel likes it though, you keep doing it even after your cunt stops doing it involuntarily. The tempo change in your squeezing him makes him pull back out of you slowly. 

How can someone be so incredibly soft and hard all at the same time? His whole body. All of it. Soft n’ hard. Fuck. You’re staring up at him while he watches the entire length of him reappear from the interior of you. You see it, your slickness on him, it’s fucking glistening on the throbbing veins and almost purple skin of him. 

“Jesus.” You sigh softly as he pulls everything but the tip from inside you. 

“Fuckin’ tight as hell. Holy shit.” Joel gasps like he had been holding his breath. You sigh and then are reduced to nothing but a moaning mess on the bed as he starts to thrust into you rhythmically. It’s slow and soft. Gentle as to not make you squeak too much, only a little. Your eyes are closed, he’s not telling you to open them. He is leaning over to take on your nipples in his mouth through the sheer, white lace of the bra. He wraps his lips around as much of your breast as he can, sucking it gently as his tongue laps and swirls around your sensitive peak. 

“Oh fu–uck! You can only speak harshly as that mix of pleasure and pain start to mix differently. More stretching and dull aching as his cock moves inside of you– but it’s not as intense or nearly as bad now that you have something constantly moving against that fucking spot. Fuck. He feels so good and warm– hot. He is red, hot steel under the satin, smooth skin of his throbbing dick. “Jeeeesus. Fuck ”

“You like this hard dick Daddy’s givin’ you?” He barks down to you softly, snaps it out of his mouth like you aren’t a melting mess below him. “Yeah you fuckin’ do, sexy fuckin’ brat.” Joel chuckles as a groan escapes his mouth. 

“Y-you like this– fuck– tight pussy– fuuucking god— your lil girl’s givin’ you?” You part choke the words out and then moan some of them. You’re interuppted with bliss as you try and use your voice for him. 

“My fuckin’ god.” Joel’s hips snap into yours— on accident or on purpose you’ll never know– but it feels like all of your bones buzzed all at the same time and every inch of your skin tickles for two seconds until he’s pulling himself away from your cervix and massaging that spot that’ll make you gush on him. You wonder in your euphoria filled brain if he’ll like that– you gushing on him like that and clench your walls down on him even tighter than you thought you could. 

Joel’s whole body jerks gently when you do that and he snaps himself forward again and buzzes your bones and tickles your skin again and it’s… not a terrible feeling. Definitely knew and something you’d have to get used to because when he does it you cannot think for a second after but when you regain your senses he’s already buzzin’ you again with the drooling tip of his cock. You want him to come inside you. Badly. You’ll be fine. It’s the twenty-first century. Emergency contraception works. But then you’re going on the pill so he can do it whenever the fuck he wants. 

“Come in…side me.” Your drawn out whimpering moan makes Joan groan loudly and he is trembling under your touch. You don’t even remember grabbing onto his biceps but you did, sometime during the buzzing you assume. Your fingernails are digging into him and you feel bad, so badly after knowing what you do, but he’s pumping into you quicker now. 

“Dear God.” Joel groans and closes his eyes tight. It feels so good making him do stuff like that. Hearing him moan your little pet name he made up for you. “You want it, Birdie?” His moans are deep and rumble like thunder when they come out of him. You can feel the vibrations from them in his arms. 

“Yeah… I want it…..Claim my pussy….I’m yours Daddy.” You’re keening the words up to him between gasps for air. Where did these high pitched sounds come from? You have never made such noises in your life…not even alone!! He is pushing them out of you as he thrusts inside of you but his sweating body is still trembling, like he is struggling… You think he wants to come, so you try and get him to. “Please Daddy…I beeee-oh fuck– I belong to you.” You whimper as he buzzes you once again. 

“How ya feelin’ Bird?” Joel groans and lets his head fall forward like he is exhausted. “Hu–Hurtin’ still?” He stutters as he withdraws from you slowly. 

“N-nononoo.” You whimper as he thrusts into once more and then holds himself against that blinding, body vibrating stop deep inside you. You’re silenced by this and staring up at him as he tilts his head up to look at you. 

“I gotta…” Joel hangs his head in shakes it in shame, panting softly. “I can’t anymore.” He is still panting and looking up at you again. 

“S-So c-come.” You stutter up to him as body and mind melting tremors course through you. 

“Not talkin’ ‘bout comin’ Birdie.” He adjusts his hands on the bed and rests for a second, wiping his sweat covered brow with the back of one of his hands. “Gotta while ‘fore I do that now…” He’s grinning down at you, his chest– also dripping sweat– is rising and falling as he tries to slow his puffing. “I gotta fuck ya.” He nods. 

“You are?” You can think… a little bit. Not much. 

“No. We’re makin’ love right now.” Joel admits with another shake of his head from side to side. “I wanna fuck you.” Joel nods now, up and down, quickly. “If ya can’t handle it… might gotta take a lil break.” He sighs. “Havin’ trouble controlin’ myself… don’t wanna hurt ya.” He sighs loudy and then hoots like he just has energy and sound inside of him he needs to expel. 

“Like… fuck me real hard?” You dunno. The buzzing. The buzzing is not terrible but it is a lot and he is still doing it right now. Pressing on that little button that lets you know he has arrived at your most inner location. 

“I’ll hold back a lil.” He reassures you but then adds. “Just gotta go harder’n this.” Joel sighs like he is disappointed with himself for having those needs inside of him but it’s kind of turning you on that he can’t control himself with you. Needs to take a break!? He is taking a break right now!

“You’ll stop–”

“Baaaaby.” Joel groans. “Don’t gotta ask. Of course.” He nods quickly. “Never fuckin’ hurt you. ‘Less you ask for it.” Joel snickers. “Then I will.” The tremors are turning into little itchy scratchies inside of you and not so much tickles and vibrations and alarms going off all over your whole body. No, this isn’t too bad. 

“Okay. Fuck me, Old man.” You nod up to him and Joel snickers to himself and leans all the way back so he is on his knees, holding you where your thighs meet your sides at your hip. Your legs are splayed out on either side of him. 

“You just give me a good whack right here–” Joel points to his forearm. “A good one. Don’t grab me, don’t tap. Whack me. I’ll stop n’ we can do it the other way.” He speaks firmly so you’re listing. You’re trying but, still twitching underneath him. He pulls his hips away from yours and you can relax. A deep sigh and almost– a feeling of being empty. Like you’re gaping now that he’s only at the entrance. “Whaddya got’a do?” Joel asks now, catching your watering eyes. 

“Whack.” You choke out after swallowing in a big, noisy gulp. You make Joel snort silently, just his body jerks softly and he smiles. 

“Yer’ pussy is fuckin immaculate, baby girl.” Joel sighs loudly and sinks his hips into yours. Your pubic hairs touch softly before he pulls away and then slams into you with a loud smack of his skin on your skin. 

“Jesus!” You exclaim but do not whack him because your whole body jolts back away from but then he is pulling you by where he has a grip dug into the soft skin on your lower sides where they dip into your leg. Another second long convulsion and flesh rippling titillation. Then another and another. More. It is endless. “Oh my go– Oh. Oh. Daddyyy.” You whine up to him with your eyes shut tight– your one eye hurts so bad but you do not care, the pleasure is everything you wanted it to be. This is amazing and perfect and you’re so glad it’s Joel. So glad he is the one doing this to you for the first time. “Th-Thank y-you.” You whimper as he really fucks you, his hips never slow down. Never cease their forceful driving into you. 

“Thank me again.” Joel barks an order to you through his pleasure. There is more sweat on his brow and he wipes it away with the back of his hand again and then grips you tighter. His chest is red and glistening as he focuses all of his energy and force on you. Right where your groins adjoin for half a second before he leaves and does it all over again. 

“Thank y-you Daddy Joel, fuck! Thank youthankyouu!!” There are tears in your eyes from the bumbling rapture inside of you. They’re rolling down the side of your face and…you might…be sobbing through your shrill, endless ululations as you tell him you’re coming. “It’s happening…. OH god… fuck Daddy… I’m gonna— I’m coming.” 

“Open yer’ fuckin’ eyes, lil girl.” Joel snaps down at you. “Open yer’ mouth.” You don’t even have to open your eyes to know that his mouth is pressed tightly together when he barks down at you. You manage to open them and look up into his eyes as your orgasm washes over you. You don’t even have to open your mouth because it is already hanging agape, waiting for him and what he loves to give you. 

It’s warm on your tongue and upper lip when you receive it both times. He doesn’t spit it this time, he drips it down to you as he slams his body against yours through your orgasm. You swallow it hungrily and then lick your lips to clean off what he over shot the first time. You gush staring up at him and now his jaw drops open and his rhythmic thrusting turn into sloppy, jagged jerking as your gushing juices send him to ecstasy filled release. 

“I’m gonna come,” Joel sighs breathlessly as his hips snap forward two more times and then he holds himself into you. “Fuck! S’mine. You're mine.” Joel nearly shouts down at you while he comes. Your gush flowing out against him as he does it. It’s dripping down the curve and crack of your ass and soaking the pillows below you. “Fuuck. Fuckk. Yer’ my gushin’ Princess.” Joel stutters once as he fills your pussy for the first time. “Daddy’s Princess.”

You do not fuck Joel all night. Your body gives out after that first good fuck. It’s disappointing but…Joel fucked the life out of you. You are dead against the mattress staring up at the ceiling. You honestly can’t even feel anything, your whole pussy is numb and it aches a little. He fucked you. Fucked you so good. He didn’t kill you with his cock, no…

Joel maybe ruined your life though, because how do you ever get fucked… not like that?  

Get fucked by anyone who is not by Mr. Daddy Joel Miller? No. 

He has done something horrible to you and now you want him to do more treacherous things to you. He might be evil , actually. This is what you get for praying to Satan all this time— as a JOKE . Then he sends you this evil man with a tongue that lashes at you in the best, and worst ways possible. 

Your evil, sonofabitch boyfriend is moaning as he sucks his release out of your cunt, licking at your walls now that he has gaped you with his fucking monster cock– what the fuck? It didn’t look as big as it fucking felt inside you.. 

Joel is laying with his head between your legs. He’s been down there this whole time. Just… licking. It’s been… maybe forty-five minutes since he fucked you for the first time. His hands roam across your stomach and caress you gently. His tongue smears his come along your cunt and clit as he swirls around it. It’s the only part of your pussy that feels good anymore. Sucking and lapping at your dripping and gaping hole like he is desperately trying to get back what he gave to you.

“Ohhh.” Is all you have the energy to say. You can only hum a happy, pleasing sound to him and your hand lazily finds his hair and you twirl your fingers around in it mindlessly as he licks you. He’s not even trying to make you come, not even teasing you… just collecting. And once he has his mouth full, he climbs over your lifeless body and nods his chin for you to open your mouth. You do.  

You stare at him the entire time he leans down and spits into your mouth, not letting you do anything before his mouth is on yours. The mix of your gush and his bitter release does something to give you life. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you as your tongues pass that blend of the both of you back and forth. 

Once you're done with all that– you’re looking at him standing at the edge of your bed. You still haven’t moved. Haven’t been able to. 

“We’re good?” Joel asks seriously. 

“What?” You close your eyes and try to imagine an ice pack on your pussy. 

“You still wanna be with me?” Joel sounds nervous. You cannot even open your eyes to look at that stupid slut. 

“Yes.” You snap at him sleepily. “Shut up. You’re the slut.” You point one, almost ded hand at him. 

“What!?” Joel sounds so shocked. “I’m not!” Now he’s offended. You do open your eyes and look at him now. 

“You’re the slut.” You bark at him and then close your eyes again and talk mostly to yourself. “Fucks like that n’ says he’s not a slut? Fuckin’ lair.” You grumble and roll over onto your side. “Slutty old man.” You are so tired. 

“Because I’ve been with a couple ladies??” Joel exclaims and crawls onto the bed beside you. “I’m not a slut.” 

“You are. Callin’ me a slut the first time we hung out. Mr. I Been With Ladies.” You mock him and he chuckles but it sounds like he didn’t really want to. 

“I only been with you since I met ya. Didn’t give my number out.” Joel teases you back and touches your sides. 

“You’re still a slut and we’re talking in the morning about why you didn’t just leave your ex-wife.” You snap, remembering that you are still actually kind of angry with him. 

“Uuuggghhh.” Joel groans loudly. “I’ll fuckin’ tell ya right now. Then we’re never talkin’ ‘bout her ass again, got it?” He snaps at you. 

“Dish.” You snap back. 

“We got married ‘fore I started my company. I was worried she was gon’ try an’ take all of it. Bankrupt me. Take my house. Eventually– I was worried she’d leave with Sarah. So I just let her hit me.” Joel is… not yelling but he is– excited? Speaking quickly and with gusto. “I was too embarrassed to ask for help, Birdie... Who could help me? Who was I gon’ fuckin' ask? My mom is dead. My dad should'a been, at that point. Tommy is just barely done bein’ a kid… so? I stayed. N’ I fucked up.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper shyly.

“Don’t fuckin’ be sorry fer' me, you didn’t fuckin' do shit!” Joel exclaims and then his eyes soften. “I’m sorry. I get loud when I’m angry, I’ll work on that shit too. Jesus Christ.” Joel looks at the floor. “No one knows ‘bout my ex. Just her and I. I never told anyone else. Not even Tommy or Sarah.” Joel turns his head to look at you. “Like to keep it that way.”

“Why…not tell people what she did? So they know?” You wrinkle your nose. 

“‘Cause then they’ll know I did it to her. N’ all they’ll see is me… hittin’ his wife. Even though it was only once n’ barely a tap– I did it. I hit her, n’ I hate myself fer’ that.” He admits sadly. “Our dad was fucked up towards the end, but he raised us better than that.” 

“What…was wrong with—” You start but Joel shakes his head. 

“Not gettin’ into that… not now. Maybe not ever. It just wasn’t good. Real bad. He struggled.” Joel says curtly. 

“Alright… I also had an asshole dad, too—” You start but he cuts you off quickly and with a sharp tongue

“My dad wasn’t a fuckin’ asshole, got it?” Joel narrows his eyes on yours. “Not an asshole. I can’t talk ‘bout it, Bird. I don’t like to.” 

“I don’t like talking about my Dad but it fuckin’ helps.” You roll your eyes at him. “Not keepin’ all that shit in…kinda fucking helps sometimes. So, maybe you should go see a therapist. I talk to one all the time.” 

“I’m not goin’ to see no fuckin’ shrink.” Joel scoffs again. He's such a fucking man. Ugh. 

“Whatever. You don’t have to, but it does help and it is good for you. I meant what I said last night… I won’t let you aplogize next time if you ever speak to me like that again…” 

“I know… but now we gotta talk ‘bout something else…” Joel sighs and turns to you. "I was gonna bring it up...n' then you said you were a virgin...n' I thought I was gon' scare you away if I told you the things I like...'cause I don't need 'em. Not at all. I just like 'em...and they're not all...nice." He speaks cautiously-- the taming a rabid animal voice is back and you're shaking.

“What?” You groan but he places his hand on your thigh besides your bruised hand. You almost pull away but it's hard to resist the warmth of him. He's...so handsome. His brown eyes are locked on to yours, his hair is all messy from getting pulled and tugged on by you-- it's sticking in all directions and you have to stop yourself from smirking. He didn't clean up his facial hair at all this morning before work, so he's scruffier than normal. You could reach out and touch him, but it's hard because he's going to tell you scary things right now.

“The things I like can get a lil…” He pauses and searches for the word he needs to use. “Bein’ on the receiving end of what I like can fuck with yer’ head sometimes… if you don’t know yer’ cared for or get mistreated. I do care ‘bout ya. N' I'm sorry 'bout last night.” Joel stresses this point. 

“Okay…” You’re hesitant because what the fuck is your slutty, evil boyfriend talking about. Are you going to have to kick him in the chest like Jackie Harris that one time? Break up with him?

“I like ya more n’ more every day– but I am jus’ a big, strong guy that wants to Dominate ya.”

“Like you have been?” You ask and Joel nods, adding to your statement.

 “N’ then I wanna take ya out… treat ya — ‘cause I can and like to … I call ya sweet things so you know that when I say that— eh, it’s not a show..or fake. I like makin’ you feel all cute n’ special– cause you are, but also ‘cause s’just what I like…”

“Uh… then what?” You blink and swallow audibly. 

“I turn ‘round n’ humiliate you while my cocks inside you.” Joel says simply. “Make you feel naughty n’ dirty. Use yer’ lil fuckin’ pussy however I want, use you. Be real mean to ya sometimes…”

“This is an excuse so you can yell at me?” You roll your eyes and almost think about telling him to leave but he rubs the outside of his pinky against yours. 

“Never. I’m gon’ work on that. I will. Gettin’ angry n’ sayin’ mean shit. I will.” Joel speaks so calmly and evenly. “I just wanna call ya names in the bedroom. Do naughty stuff in there… sometimes let it playfully carry into our relationship too”

“Like? I need you to expla—” Joel hooks his pinky with yours and looks down at it. 

“Remember my promise to you?” He asks quietly. You nod. “Keep that in mind n’ know… that’s how I wanna treat you ninety-nine percent of the time.” 

“The other one perce--?” You ask fearfully but he cuts you off and is ready to tell you.

“Call you terrible fuckin' things, worthless n’ stupid.” Joel whispers softly. “Spit on ya. Fuck you real hard n’ fill your holes– all of ‘em.” His eyes never leave yours. “Fuck you anywhere…everywhere I want.” Joel is still so calm. 

You’re fuckin’ trembling. This sounds..equal parts horrifying and also incredible. Sexy and scary. Right up your alley— dark and horrifying alley. 

“What if I don’t want that? Getting called fuckin’ stupid every day?” You wrinkle your nose. That sounds like it could be... tiring? Mentally? But, you're not stupid and...have a therapist. So, this is something you might explore but... you dunno.

“Don’t gotta. We can just keep doin’ what we’re doin’. I'm used to it bein' normal." Joel shrugs his shoulders. "I enjoy this though. Don't need it-- like it. Like exploring. Like pushin' mine and yer' boundaries... s'kinky." Joel nods then frowns "I haven't been with many who like it-- s'why I'm used to it normal, lil rough. Nothin' craz--"

“Slut!” You snap, cutting him off and Joel snickers softly. 

“Maybe… not anymore though.” He smirks. “I just wanna fuckin’ ruin you, baby girl. Only you.” Joel Miller whispers this to you and your pussy (you thought it was broken, really broken) twinges when he says it. “I mean it. I like it rough…but if you’d let me. I��d like to… try things with ya. Keep showin' you things like I have been.” 

“What if I don’t like some of the things you show me?” Your interest outweighs your fear. 

“‘Kay, now yer’ asking good questions…” He smirks at you and pulls your hand into his lap by your pinky. “Yer’ in control in all this, babe.” He nods. “You don’t like it, I stop. I like watchin’ ya squirm n’ cry… but for the right reasons. I don’t wanna…really hurt you— I do. I wanna spank ya and whip yer’ ass ‘till its red. Smack ya a ‘round a lil…fuck you real good when I do it. Make ya feel good, give you pleasure with yer' pain, baby.” His voice is so comforting that it’s calming even listening talk about he wants to mildly abuse you in the bedroom. 

“I have to decide right now?” You blink at him. 

“You..don’t ever gotta decide nothin’. I like that shit, but I’m not gon’ die without it. I'm just warnin’ ya so I don’t take things too far…on accident or… in misunderstanding.” He leans in and kisses you on the forehead gently. 

“Okay… we can talk about things first, always?” You look up at him and he’s already nodding his head. 

“Do you wanna change outta that lil white thang and go to bed? We’ll getcha coffee and a new phone in the morning?” He whispers. 

“Yeah.”

Then Joel undresses you and gives you the comfiest pair of shorts out of your dresser. Then this stupid, evil Red Devil goes into his ‘spend the night bag’ and gets you a clean t-shirt of his to wear. 

“I have some…” You whisper up to him, but he motions for you to lift your arms and he slips it on for you. 

“I know. Don’t care– want you in this.” He leans down and kisses your lips softly and for a long time before he runs upstairs and performs his little night time routine here at your house. Checking all the doors and windows. 

Joel is…actually perfect? No. He’s angry and is a dick and is making up for that. Unless you already forgave him? You dunno. You honestly can’t even care because you’re asleep before Joel even comes back.

The next morning is interesting. It takes a lot of convincing from your boyfriend. 

“Just for me.” He nods. You shake your head. “My. Eyes. Only.” He nods. 

“Why?” You’re smirking.

“Picture it, okay?” Joel stands besides you and holds his hand out in front of him like he’s trying to get you to see what he’s seeing. “Me…in my truck at work…watchin’ it..thinkin’ ‘bout you… touching mysel—”

“You do that at work!?” You exclaim. He chuckles and smacks your ass. 

“Uh, if I had this yes– I would.” He is already getting his phone out of his jeans from last night. 

“No one’s gonna see it?” You blink at him. Joel scoffs. 

“I’m not sharin’ this with anyone. You fuckin’ nuts?” He pulls a chair up to the end of the bed and messes around with his phone. ‘S’fer me. Me alone.” 

Now, Joel is laying in bed with you. He’s behind you with your back to his chest. Your legs are spread over his and his hard cock is pressed against your back. You're grinding yourself against him, massaging his cock between your bodies as his fingers work on your clit. 

“You like this naughty shit?” he asks softly in your ear. You nod and can only focus on breathing heavily, trying not to look directly into his phone that he set up on a chair at the end of the bed. “Say it.” He growls in your ear. His two thickest and longest fingers are just circling your clit slowly and lazily. 

“I like being naughty, Daddy.” You mewl quietly. Joel’s other hand is gripping one of your tits and thumbing the stiff peak as he rocks his hips up against you gently, moving his body against yours as you drag your body up and down against his slightly. Just an inch or two in each direction. Giving Joel just enough pressure and friction and movement on his throbbing cock between your ass and on your lower back. 

“You like that I need this?” Joel growls, moving his head to the other side of yours now, kissing across your shoulder and up your neck as your sweating bodies glide across each other. “ Gotta have you like this in my pocket, lil girl.” Joel whispers. “So I can see this pretty pussy.” While Joel speaks rubs all four fingers across your cunt slowly. 

“I love it.” You moan softly. 

“You want Daddy to give your pussy a good slap?” He coos in your ear. Honestly, not really. But, you’re going to let him do whatever he wants to you. 

“Please don’t hurt me, Daddy.” You whine nervously. Is he gonna smack it like he did your ass? Joel’s breath hitches in his chest and you feel it happen behind you. His hips buck up into your back gently. “Slap it soft. ” You whisper. Joel sighs and rubs your clit quickly with his four stiff fingers– so quickly. He’s putting so much effort into it, his body stiffens below yours and he leans forward slightly to put more pressure behind his rubbing. 

You are moaning and writhing, eyes closed as he quickly brings you right to that edge. When you’re almost there he pulls his hand away and swiftly brings them down onto your red, slick and puffy cunt lips. It focuses it to the top of your mound where your nerve bundle is. It is a different sensation. The hard, fast, sudden pressure and shock of the slap on your clit makes you moan, it doesn't even hurt at all. 

“Do it again, Daddy.” You press yourself into him and turn your head so your closed eyes are pressed into his neck as he leans over you the best he can. 

“Awhh, the cute, pathetic, lil girl likes gettin’ her pussy slapped? Course you do, ya naughty lil bitch.” Joel laughs softly. "Look at the camera, talk to it." He growls into your ear and gives your mound another soft smack and it’s wet and audible. You turn your head forward and rest it against his shoulder as he lens in and presses his lips to your cheek, kissing you softly. Then he gives you another tight rasp on your pussy. And another. He’s doing it so rapidly, slapping and swatting your clit and not hard enough to hurt, it’s…so good? So fucking good for some reason. Joel and you are still working together, your glistening bodies sliding and slipping against each other. 

“Fuck. I do like it.” You murmur to the camera, your eyes are still clenched and now, you're rocking your hips up to meet his quick, noisy— more than patting but he’s not spanking your cunt like he did last night. The force all comes from his wrist, not his shoulder. It’s incredible and almost reminds you of his shower head but not as wet or warm. Joel growls softly against your cheek and presses his forehead to the side of your skull with slight force. 

"Louder. I wanna hear it." He snaps softly into the soft skin just below your cheekbone. He is grinding up into your back. "I wanna hear you fuckin' say it. Mean it." It's so fierce when he says it, that it almost startles you but... you just talked about all this so you know it's...just a thing. Not mean, not scary. 

"I fuckin' love when you spank my cunt, Daddy. So fuckin' much." You speak with force and it comes out in moans as he chuckles against your cheek and rubs your clit now in between those little, tight rasps of his fingers against you.

"There it is..." Joel kisses your cheek softly as his own moans start to slip from his mouth as he holds you around the waist with his other arm now, moving your body up and down against the front of him. You can feel his movements becoming more desperate as you stroke his cock with ever single move you make. 

"Oh fuck...yes...please don't... stop.The light breeze he makes with his fingers gives you goosebumps on your inner thigh as your legs begin to tremble. “I think– oh god– I… think–” You’re cut off and choked by pleasure as that real bliss and ‘letting go’ feeling builds. 

“Yep. Do it. Gush for Daddy, baby. I wanna see it.” Joel moans loudly as your body moves against him more desperately, searching for more than just his slapping fingers even though he is bringing you there doing that. “C’mon baby. Yer' such a naughty fuckin' girl. Such a pathetic, lil, gushin' girl.” He whispers in your ear. "Yer' fuckin' amazing." The fact that he wants a video of you doing that so he can watch whenever he wants is what sends you there– it’s what makes you gush. 

He gets a clear shot of it happening as his abuse of your clit never ends. He spanks your pussy through your gush and sometimes his fingers slip down so he can touch it as it comes out of you. You’re still moving against him, now shaking and moaning loudly against his neck. You can feel his body working against yours for his own release and you push back against him to give him more pressure. When you do that, he groans softly and pulls his hand away from your spasming pussy. Then his fingers are inside your mouth. 

“Suck.” He moans as his body jerks underneath yours. You lap at his fingers hungrily and taste yourself on him and moan softly. You part his digits with your tongue and run it down the length of each extremity in your mouth, swirling and lapping at his knuckles and then flicking your tongue against the web between his fingers. You’re doing this and Joel is coming between the two of you. His release is trapped between his stomach and your back. “Such a fuckin’ good girl.” 

Joel sits you up and crawls from behind you and grabs his phone off the chair at the end of the bed. He sits beside you and starts to play the video. 

“I don’t wanna watch that. It’s for you.” You roll your eyes as the sounds of your moaning and whimpering fill the room. It makes you blush as Joel teases his cock again, watching what you two just did. He gets halfway through it with a big dumb smile on his face before he turns it off and turns his smile to you now. 

“Why? S’hot as hell. Jeeesus. Yer’ fuckin’ naughty n’ sexy. I like it.” Joel smirks and leans down to kiss you. “We’re makin’ more.” He teases. 

“Fine. I like seeing you—” You point at his face and then to his stomach covered in his milky release. “-- smiling and covered in cum. So, fine.” You blush and he touches your cheek gently.

“I want to do the naughtiest things with you.” Joel whispers. You blink. 

“Like what?” You pur up to him as he rubs his thumb across your lips gently. 

“You’ll see.”

(sorry it took me so long, i'll try and be better.)

tag list: @immyowndefender @korikolove @untamedheart81 @fanficlover1414, @creepycorbeaux @ohmillerbaby @rosebuds-and-moonlight @harriedandharassed

[animentality]

I've always harboured a mild dislike for x reader stuff. I never really held it against people because I don't have the time to antagonise them, but it was so upsetting when every time I opened the fandom tag and all I saw were posts and posts and posts of bland x reader stuff that clearly is ooc with no real substance to them at all. So many of the RP blogs seem the same way.

As someone who tries to make analysis posts and art for the same fandom, it is disheartening when I spend hours and hours on an analysis post about a character and it maybe hits 120 notes while an OOC x reader of the same character soars to the thousands. Maybe it's selfish of me to say but I say it anyway.

The fandom is full of youngsters and I never felt comfortable voicing my opinion for the same because it just felt wrong to tell kids to stop existing in communities. But the amount of times I've been put down for shipping characters with each other rather than myself is an honestly surprising number.

Um. I don't really know where I was going with this.

But your post definitely opened my eyes a little bit on even why I dislike x reader so much. It's sinking in a little bit. My hatred for OOC stuff seeps into this, I suppose. So I wanted to say that. Yeah. I agree with you.

Thank you for saying it.

Signed,

A fellow analyser / artist / fanfic writer lmao

— @lunarcloak

I get you, man.

I know self shippers have always existed.

I don't mind them. If that's how you enjoy the media, then fine.

However.

I just don't think that the sudden rise of self shippers over fan analysis and shipping is a good sign.

I think it comes from a lack of media literacy and willingness to actually engage with a piece of fiction. At least shippers and fan analysts actually talk about the world and plot itself.

self shippers imagine themselves dating a character in an au that is completely disconnected from the story, and acting in a way that's not even close to how they are in canon.

which to me is like... you have a creative writing prompt but it's not a story you're actually engaging with. someone showed you a picture of a handsome man and said write a story about how he'd kiss you.

and it's like... ok. there's no crime in just being horny, but... when that's all a fandom is... I don't consider it a fandom, it's just a masturbation fantasy.

I thought the whole point of fiction was to dive into the human experience and try and understand ourselves better. See the perspectives of others. Live vicariously in another person's shoes.

Fan analysis about themes? Perfect. You're thinking. You're feeling. You're articulating. You're growing as a person as you decide what you like or don't like, or try to put together puzzle pieces so that the whole picture makes sense. Shipping? You're imagining scenarios. You're bending canon to fit your interests. You are developing your own ability to write characters, and growing as an artist and a writer.

But self shipping...?

Eh.

You're writing, I guess, but when you reduce yourself to just... idk, some generic girl that Gojo decides is the Bella to his Edward... I mean I'm glad you're happy and all.

But how happy are you

Are you happy at all, or are you frustrated by this aching loneliness deep in your gut that you just don't understand, and it never quite feels whole bc you keep cramming nothing into it.

And it's not the loneliness or the social awkwardness that I'm criticizing here ok, shippers and fan analysts can be just as lonely. I just think that the human relationship to art should be confusion and appreciation.

you should be trying to understand others or yourself.

you can insist well what's so wrong with escapism? why does everything have to be an intellectual exercise?

it doesn't have to be ... but there's a reason people feel so hollow watching marvel movies.

art without substance is consumption. it's a distraction from your own humanity, it is not anything more.

not to you, anyway.

and I don't know.

that's really sad.

I've made so many friends through ships and babbling about canon and gushing about narrative beats.

I feel like I got something out of fandom, if other people force me to see the world in another light. I feel like a story has done its job if it's made me feel something. and it's really done a great job if I feel invested enough to hope two characters smooch.

but self insert?

eh. so you just like the character and think they're hot. that's fine.

not that interesting to talk about either. requires very little analysis on your part.

they just provoke sexual feelings or romantic feelings , which are easiest for you to process, and then you can move on to the next pretty boy you can turn into a Dom.

it irks me, man.

just a tad bit.

[maochira]

Welcome to the Donquixote Family. [chapter 1]

synopsis: The Donquixote pirates weren't new to taking children into their crew, but you were the first one brought onto the ship by Corazon.

type: platonic; familial

tags: gn!child!reader & Donquixote pirates, hurt/comfort, angst, found family

a/n: (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) very excited to start this series!! I don't know how many chapters this will consist of, but I've got many ideas yippie!!!

A city in flames. Agonizing screams. The metallic smell of blood.

And all you can do is cry. What else could a helpless child do in a situation like this?

You grew up in a lawless area; the World Government couldn't care less about your hometown. It wasn't of any importance to them. The lives of the people living there didn't have any value. You had no value.

Until they found you.

Your hometown was victim to arson. The very few survivors were either heavily injured, knowing they'd be dead in a matter of time anyways, or didn’t care about helping you.

The trauma brought by the fire erased all your memories; you don't even know if you had friends, parents, siblings, or anyone who cared for you at some point in your early life. The painful screams in your ears and smoke filling your lungs are the earliest memories you carry.

The second memory you recall is how you wandered into nowhere. Your reasons uncertain; looking for help or for death?

After that, there is nothing but a gap in the window of time.

No matter how hard you try, there is no recalling of the events that led to this. Regardless, that never mattered much to you. They had found you; rescued and made you part of their family.

The Donquixote Pirates.

“It's okay, you can eat that.” Baby 5's encouraging voice, her hands gently pushing a plate of rice towards you.

Rice. When was the last time you had rice, or any proper food in general? Despite that, something held you back from taking your first bite.

“You'll die if you don't eat!” Buffalo adds, noticing your hesitance. Although, you can't tell if he's mocking or encouraging you.

A tall man appears behind the two, not only towering over them but also you. “If they don't have it in them to eat even when food is placed right in front of them, they’re not good enough to join our family anyways.”

Barely having finished his words, the man pushes Baby 5 and Buffalo to the side. His eyes fixated on you, Doflamingo tries to figure out what's going on in that little head of yours.

“Eat.” He says in a commanding tone, although his eyes soften ever so slightly when you still don't take a bite.

“Listen.” Doflamingo kneels down to be closer to your height. “I have no idea what was going on in my brother's mind to bring you here, but I trust him. That doesn't mean I won't hesitate to throw you overboard if you don't prove you're worth enough to be part of this family.”

Corazon, the man who brought you onto the ship in the first place, only quietly sat somewhere on the ship. His gaze wanders towards you while he lights his cigarette, resulting in his coat catching fire.

As little as the quiet cracking of the fire and smoke blown in your direction by the wind is enough to trigger memories of the last moments you know from your hometown. Instead of taking care of his burning coat, Corazon throws it to the ground and quickly hurries over to you as soon as he noticed your distress. And suddenly, you found yourself lifted up in his arms. His actions not only catch you off guard, but also the rest of the crew. They do know better than judging or questioning their captain’s brother, though.

And so they watch as Corazon holds you, eventually sitting down with you securely on his lap. He makes you feel safe. Safe enough to accept the small spoonfuls of rice Corazon offers to you.

Doflamingo continues observing you, his piercing gaze judging his brother’s softness. Although, he couldn’t deny it was an endearing sight. He would still stick to his words from earlier; even if Corazon was the one to bring you on the ship, he himself would have the final say about keeping you or not. But for now, he decides to let Corazon take care of you. Maybe you’ll be of use once you recover and gain enough strength to prove yourself to him.

Corazon makes a mental note about the fire causing you distress - although that doesn’t mean he’ll stop accidentally setting things on fire. It only means he’ll watch out for you any time it does happen.

After he made sure you ate and drank enough, at least for now, Corazon lifts you off of his lap and gives you a gentle nudge, encouraging you to walk over to the other children, who are staring at you with curious eyes. Especially Baby 5 seems to be eager to make a new friend and properly welcome you to the family. You can only stare back at them with empty eyes. A gaze that is too familiar to one of them.

Ever since Corazon brought you onto the ship, Law only wondered why. You’re weak; nothing like the children the crew would typically take in. But the gaze in your eyes told him more than enough. Somehow, he could sense your feelings as soon as he made eye contact with you; a look of hopelessness; maybe a death wish; but for an unknown reason still wanting to live. Stay alive out of spite, to fight as a sort of revenge to the world that left you and everything you once knew behind.

Much to everyone’s confusion, Law walks towards you and grabs your wrist. The sudden action makes you flinch, but the lack of firmness in his grasp is reassuring enough to know Law wouldn’t hurt you.

“I’ll examine them.” He says, announcing a decision he made for himself. While his words are for the whole crew to hear, they’re mainly directed to you and Doflamingo.

“We need to know if they’re sick or have serious injuries.” Law adds after turning his eyes to the captain.

Doflamingo only shrugs. “If you want to.”

Corazon smiles softly, giving Law an encouraging nod and your hair a gentle ruffle, as if to say “It’s okay.”

[smellslikechahnspirit]

[Book]

Are we good for each other?

1. Strawberry Milk

Bang Chan x F. Reader

Synopsis: Written according to y/n trophy. A story about how you two met. Both having a difficult life, finding peace in each other. Not without lots of drama. Just read it, it's great.

Genre: Enemies to lovers, soft, some smut, drama

Warnings: Under eating, depression, toxic ex (Let me know if I missed something)

Word count: 1241

______________________________

[5:28 PM]

Another day, the same job, the same annoying people, everything the same. Lately life wasn’t that great for you. After all these months nothing has changed yet. When you dropped out of college to live with you boyfriend, now ex, you imagined your life way different. Living with him at his place, joining a real career. This waiter job was supposed to be temporary. But then after you two broke up, and had no place to stay, you kind of had no other choice but to keep the job. You needed the money. You were broke. So broke, you even sometimes skipped proper meals. You did eat, but was it good food? Healthy food? No, most of the time just cheap stuff, like a burger at a fast-food restaurant, or something of that sort. You were trying to save money, but that wasn’t an easy task and especially not because your job also paid pretty poorly. But hey, what else could you do? Give up? No, you were determent to show your ex, and the rest of the world that you’re strong enough to overcome this hardship.

‘’Fuck, it’s only 5:30…”, you said softly. Your shift lasted till 8 pm. ‘’Language!”, your boss said looking angry at you, who happened to walk by right as you said that. You needed this job, but you and your boss haven’t been on the same page lately. You keep ‘messing up’ stuff, and it’s always an excuse for her to call you out on it, even if it’s as small as forgetting sugar in a coffee. You were trying your best. It was just never enough for her. ‘’Sorry...”, you replied.

You couldn’t wait to be done today, so you could hop back online on your PC. You were a streamer on the side, not a paid one, just for fun. You never showed your face or anything, you were just hella good at playing games, and people seemed to enjoy watching you play. You were quite famous on there actually. Gamers all over the world have heard at least something about you, since you broke a world record of goals per minute in a soccer game. You played any type of game really. But your favourite at the moment had to be this shooter game you had been playing a lot.

You actually met a guy on there a few weeks back. You didn’t know his name; all you knew was his gamer tag and his voice. You two had been playing this game together almost every day. Unless he was busy. During the day he mostly was, due to his job. You didn’t wanna be a creep and ask him too much about his personal life though, so you always waited till he replied and told you he was gonna go online. Only sometimes you had to cancel, since your PC was lagging most of the time if you played with him. Your PC was kinda cheap, but you couldn’t afford to buy a better one, for obvious reasons.

‘’Table 8 needs your attention right now, go!”, your boss whisper-yelled at you. You fake smiled at her and walked over to the table. ‘’Hello sir, what can I get you?”, you asked the guy who was wearing all black and had his hoodie hood covering most of his face typing excessively on his laptop. ‘’Uh, yeah just….uhm, just an iced strawberry milk, please.”, the man said, not even looking at you once. Even though you couldn’t see his face fully you knew who he was. He was pretty famous. You just didn’t care and treated him normally. He seemed very annoyed and stressed for some reason. Probably work, you thought. ‘’Anything else?”, you asked. “No, thanks, just one strawberry milk to-go. Please hurry I’m gonna be late for my appointment.”, he said while putting his hand over his forehead, like he had a headache. “Yes, sir.”, you said as you went to go get his drink.

You hated customers like him. Looking like they’re more important than the rest of us. He was handsome though. Very nice lips too. Maybe he really was stressed and you wanted to help him out by getting his order as fast as possible, so that maybe he’d feel a bit more at ease. He was still a customer after all.

You went to the counter and prepared his order. While you were busy mixing the syrup into the milk, another customer went over to you and complained about the fact that his coffee was served cold. Your boss started yelling at you and made quite a scene already, but since you were busy with the strawberry milk order, you didn’t want to engage much so you just apologised and continued.

You were done and started walking over to the customer to serve him his iced strawberry milk order, while your boss followed. That stressed you out and made you lose focus and tripped over the handsome guys’ bag, spilling the milk all over his clothes, almost his laptop. He jumped up and started yelling at you too. For obvious reasons your boss also started yelling and well basically everyone was looking at you and yelling.

You realised you really messed up too much now and the following statement from your boss wasn’t that big of a surprise. “You’re fired, Y/n!’’, she yelled and pointed to the door, for you to leave immediately. You teared up. You were not only a disappointment for everyone here but also for yourself. You hated yourself even more than you already did. You threw your apron off and started walking towards the door.

While on your way out you looked at the handsome guy once more and mouthed the words ‘I’m so sorry’. He was obviously still annoyed, but a part of him felt bad for you too. He was looking at your face and saw the tears clearly now. He felt bad. Then he also realised he was 100% gonna be late for his work now due to that fact that he’d have to go home and change his clothes, on top of the fact he was already late. So, when that thought hit him, he looked back at the mess and yelled at your boss for napkins. You closed your eyes for a second to escape the situation for a second, then walked through the door and went home.

[5:54 PM]

When you got home you threw yourself on your, what was left of a decent, couch. For the first time in a while you felt completely hopeless. Normally you’d find a bit of willpower left in you and always got back up from hardships, since you knew you had to stay strong, to fight. But now, after today...everything was too much. You couldn’t even keep a simple small job. Were you really that useless?

Something in you knew you’re a wonderful person and that you had much potential, but how would you ever be able to get out of this shithole, if you couldn’t even make a little bit of money. You had no money, no friends, no nothing. Not even family, since they all shut you out after you left your country back then. You decided to open a can of pineapple you still had, ate it and eventually you fell asleep. A part of you didn’t care if you’d wake up or not.

Part 2

...Masterlist...

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

© 2022-2025, smellslikechahnspirit • No posting on other sites or platforms, rewrites, or translations

[aster-the-floof-dragon]

Tips and Advice for Protestors (with bonus for those who can't make it)

In light of reports of a planned mass protest across all 50 US states, I decided to help in whatever way I can. As much as I wish to participate, my circumstances prevent me from doing so. Thus, I’ve settled on gathering crucial information to know if you plan on participating in the upcoming protest.

To preface; if you are in a situation that prevents your from going out, know that it does not mean that you do not care or that you’re somehow “lesser.” It is okay if you can’t go for whatever reason, you don’t need to justify yourself. I’ll leave some tips and alternatives towards the end if you still want to help.

Now if you’re planning on participating, here’s some critical information to keep in mind:

1. Never go to a protest alone

While you could, it is not advisable to be by yourself. Bring a friend and stick together at all times. If things get hectic (and hopefully it should never get to that point), you can help each other.

2. Protect your identity

Cover your face with a mask and sunglasses, hide any identifiable marks on your body (tattoos, scars, moles, etc). NEVER take photos of yourself at the protest. As tempting as it is to roll up in a cool fit, it could make it easy to apprehend you (even if you’ve done nothing wrong). Instead, wear plain clothing with no unique symbols. Avoid wearing jewelry, leave them at home.

3. Plan Ahead

Make sure to bring plastic water bottles, necessary medicines, and physical cash. While is best practice to avoid bringing any electronic communication devices (phones, smart watches, etc.), but if for whatever reason you need them. Either turn them completely off or use airplane mode. Get a paper or offline digital map of the local area, find where the rally is taking place, and identify the routes to get out quick.

Identify your trusted emergency contact(s). Tell them where you are going, how you are getting there, where the emergency meetup spot is, and when will you be coming back.

If you need contact lenses, avoid wearing them. Opt for glasses instead. Tear gas and contact lenses do NOT mix. No glass containers, they make you a prime target for police. Do not wear anything that can obstruct your hearing (headphones, earbuds, ear plugs) HOWEVER, protective ear equipment can help should authorities use a sound canon. Do not bring illegal or other controlled substances (alcohol, marijuana, etc.) whether legal or not, if police detain you it will make things worse for you.

Other helpful items include liquid anti-acid for tear gas, shatter-proof goggles, extra face masks, towelettes, thick latex gloves (preferably from paint stores), and battery packs. If you’re able to, do try to carry extra water bottles. In a pinch they help with tear gas. Wetting down masks with water helps with tear gas while you get away from the area.

Wear comfortable shoes. Avoid flip flops and sandals.

Have the information of a lawyer written on your arm.

4. Getting there

Don’t park nearby. Give yourself some space to keep your vehicle secure. Or if you are able, use public transit instead. Ideally, travel with your friend(s).

5. While Protesting

Ensure that you are always aware of your surroundings. If you see or feel that something is off, listen to your gut. Don’t be afraid to speak with your friend(s) and fellow protestors if you feel that something or someone is suspicious, this includes if you find someone tagging people with stickers or other markings as they move through the crowds (alert those that are marked, do NOT confront the person doing it). Stay with your friend(s) the entire time. Always keep your escape routes in mind.

Do not engage with counter-protestors. They may attempt to rile up the protest into a riot. Do not let them. Just ignore them and move on.

Avoid taking photos unless documenting potential law enforcement abuse. Be cautious when recording, do not interfere with police. If it feels like things are starting to get heated, listen to your gut and get away as quickly as possible.

It is likely that police may engage in kettling, where they will surround a group and restrict their movement. While this is supposed to be used for groups that they feel will cause violence, it can be abused. Keep moving randomly, stay close to bystanders, and avoid responding aggressively. If you are caught in this, ask the police if you are being detained. If arrested or detained, invoke your Fifth Amendment rights by remaining silent, only speaking to demand a lawyer.

6. Avoid Engaging in Provocative Behaviors

What this means is to not fall for tactics meant to get protestors riled up. It is not unheard of for police (or third parties) to set things up to coax people into engaging in behavior they otherwise wouldn’t. Do not take anything from anyone you do not know, especially if that something could be a makeshift weapon (ie, bricks, bats, equipment, etc). If its possible, you may try to deescalate by remaining calm and clearly indicating that you will not engage in violent behavior. If you are not comfortable, you may simply leave without saying another word.

Do NOT try to fight the police, it can ruin your life. While the police can get away with doing such things, you do not have that luxury. In terms of a ruined life, I do not just mean a record, I mean getting injured and it permanently affecting you the rest of your life. At worst, you could get killed. Do NOT attempt to fight or even provoke the police.

If things get heated and you are still in the protest. I’m talking police are marching forward, tear gas is being deployed, do NOT be a straggler. Even if you did nothing to provoke, the police can and will beat you. It is an intimidation tactic, they may know full well that you’ve done nothing but you are their closest target and they will use you as an example. Flee IMMEDIATELY. Do not throw things, do not yell at the police, just run to your emergency meetup spot.

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Hopefully you’re able to show up and leave without incident. Remember, the idea of a protest is to gather as many people as possible to show our government all the people that care about a certain issue so that they do something about it. But if for whatever reason you are detained by police, do not forget that you have rights granted to you by the US Constitution.

For starters, peaceful protesting is protected by the First Amendment. This is why it is imperative that protestors remain peaceful and commit to not engaging in provocative or violent behaviors.

If police order the protest to disperse, you must comply and leave the area. Note, that police can only invoke this if there is clear evidence of danger of a riot or interference with traffic. In addition, police must allow for the protestors to calmly leave the area. This includes explicitly stating the amount of time, consequences for not complying, and what clear exit routes to take.

If you are detained by police, remain calm. Keep hands visible and comply with orders. I know this can be difficult for some and easier for others, but it is the best advice I can offer. Do not be afraid to state that you were exercising your First Amendment rights. Ask if you are free to leave, if they say yes then you may calmly walk away. If not, you may ask why but do not talk any further. If they are arresting you they must say why they are doing so. The last thing you can safely say is that you will remain silent and ask for a lawyer, these are your Fifth Amendment rights. Do not sign or consent to anything, including searches though police may perform a pat down if they suspect you have a weapon. Calls to a lawyer are confidential (this is where having lawyer information on you is handy). Police cannot access your devices without a warrant and they may not tamper with the data (aka, deleting files).

If you believe your rights are being violated, swiftly write down what happened, where, when, officer badge numbers, police car numbers, etc. Photograph any injuries you got.

Note: There may be few peaceful protestors out there that intend to get arrested should things escalate. Understand that this is incredibly serious and could jeopardize your future prospects in terms of job hunting and education. Do not attempt to get arrested to bring publicity if you cannot handle the consequences. Leave it for those who understand what it fully means to do something like this unless you are willing to accept the consequences. Things may be dire, but you deserve to live a full life and there are so many other ways you can help without jeopardizing your future. So, what are other ways to help? If you can’t make it to a protest, its okay. I mean hey, I can’t go either! So right off the bat here’s something you can do. Which is what I’ve been doing this whole time, getting information out there! Do not be afraid to share information from reliable sources to help keep your peers informed. And if you have a knack for writing, aggregate what you find to make a single post (and do please cite your sources). Help make it accessible for fellow community members if you want to! A bit meta but please do not use generative AI. It often gets information way wrong and the last thing we want is misinformation to spread. So please, do your own research and writing.

Call your representatives! Their phone numbers are listed publicly specifically for us to call at any time to make our voices heard. While it is best to reach US Congress members at their DC office, if that doesn’t work do try to call your local office instead. And if that doesn’t work either, do write them an email or send a post card! Depending on their hours and rules, you can even show up in person. Just make sure you’re aware of the rules to appear in person and your rights as a constituent. This can be a great alternative if you’re unable to go to a protest in-person but you want to show your representatives that you care and want to make your voice heard. I used 5 Calls to find my reps and a sample script to use to help keep the call focused and concise on the issue that I wanted to talk about.

Another neat way to help is by donating to mutual aid and legal funds made to help protestors that do get arrested. Just ensure that they are legitimate by vetting them thoroughly before sending over any money/payment information. Of course, this depends on your financial situation, but it also helps if you share so it can reach people who can donate. Organizations like the ACLU are excellent too.

Organize and meet with like-minded people! In a time where this administration is trying to divide us, it is crucial that we unite and work together to fight back. It does not stop after the protest is done, this work continues in the background where the average person may not notice. There are many roles that need filling, and it starts with talking to others and seeing where you can help.

I also want to say thank you to my friends and acquaintances who helped me write this by sharing their own knowledge, experiences, and some of the sources linked below!

And feel free to add to this! If you know of a good, reliable source or legitimate mutual aid fund, feel free to share! Its important that we help each other out and not give into despair. Why give the haters what they want?

Sources and Extra Reading:

[itslouisan]

Ok that's actually so fucking sweet? Tysm for the tag Dark ^^

1- last song: Drop pop Candy - Vivid BAD SQUAD and Internet Overdose

2- Last Book: well if manga counts I'd be Mob Psycho 100 volume 1 (love that manga and just got my hands on the first vol)

3- Last movie: the shining!! I actually wanna make lots of posts on it since I loved it, I definitely recommend it for anyone looking for a old horror movie experience and some psychological discomfort, like, not gonna extend much, but as a victim and someone who lived with someone similar to Jack, THIS MOVIE GOT ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SIT

4- last tv show: The midnight gospel!! I actually rewatched the last ep for inspiration for a podcast I'm writing myself, plus, it's a moment in my life I need to brace myself for imminent grief, of loss of people but also of changes in life, things that will never come back to be like they were before, and that episode just..helps me a lot, I definitely recommend the show and I'd LOOVE to discuss it with people

5- last thing searched: "does Adult Swim still exist as a Cartoon Network segment?" Yeah it's bc of an iceberg I was making

6- Favorite color: purple and crimson. Like purple is a color so tied to important aspects in my life but also a color that kinda always brought me comfort and defined me, so deep, so understanding, connected to creativity and spirituality...and well crimson is so elegant and unique, a shade of red no other shade can compare to

7- Sweet/Savory/Spicy: SWEEEEEEET like I have this gigantic sweet tooth, while I was studying I munched on chocolate chips to keep going, every weekend when I visit my dad, he lives in a japanese street, and in there there's this famous cafe and ALWAYS when I have enough money I run to the cafe and I get a new york roll pistachio flavored and a boba from a nearby store and eat it happily, sweets give me life.

Also spicy food can die in hell, it's just pain no joy.

8- relationship status: dating for almost a year now!! I'm very happy and do imagine a future with the person I'm with, we're actually going to an LGBT exposition, it'll be fun ^^

9- looking forward to: creating more things and talking more to my moots. I mean I know so many amazing people and I'd love to know more about them, show them I care and support their projects, and..include them in my own things, also I'd love to create more in terms of writing, streaming and cosplay

10- Current Obsession: oh boy..bleach, Rick and Morty, Epic the musical and Cult of the Lamb

I actually managed to watch all 7 seasons of Rick and Morty in 3 days (only skipping some terrible eps like the horse one and the dragon one bc wtf) and I can't wait to talk more abt the show!! I'm playing cult of the lamb like I'll die if I don't and I'm actually making a goat cosplay from scratch!!

Epic kinda ignited my love for history and mythology as a whole and I can't stop listening to it, my favorite saga? Circe's saga.

And as for bleach..it never fully vanishes

Now I'mma tag blogs of people I'm not moot with but I'd love to meet, talk to, know more of (if it's not a problem) and then my actual moots

Not moots:

@isa-ghost @kdpartworks @strawberry-spectre

@stoopidpigeonxx @postcrashcurly

Moots <3:

@out-of-the-curve @evilheart12 @luz374 @syndicatedsystem

'Ten people I'd like to get to know better!' game tagged by @vanilla-phantoms

last song - I/ Me/ Myself by Will Wood but. Kasane Teto cover

last book - Howl's moving castle by  Diana Wynne Jones

last movie - My best friend had us watch one of the one piece movies, I'd not know which one though

last tv show - I just rewatched Bee and Puppycat again

last thing I searched - Google translate lol 🧍‍♂️

favorite color - Purple

sweet/savory/spicy - Sweet but not too sweet, just the right amount

relationship status - single

looking forward to - Spring! Please!

current obsession - Wolf359 has been taking up the majority of my brain but also Para Pente since I started rewatching it

Tagging: @dinatela, @historyofmemes, @houstondoyoucopy, @transkepler, @st-peculiar