#whatever it is for you / they fight for their lives

[cat-got-your-tongue]

too sweet for me

Dp&W!Logan howlett x fem!reader

Summary: You've not been feeling like yourself, and you take it out on logan until one day he decides he can't take it anymore.

Warnings: established relationship | spanking | mention of safe word | dom/sub undertones | fingering | maturbation (male) | facials | so sorry if I left anything out. If you tell me I'll fix it.

Word count: 4.2k

Authors note: I'm still trying to get into the swing of writing. I hope you enjoy. Not proofread. My requests are open. Pictures used are not mine found on Pinterest. Divider by @saradika-graphics

My work will always be 18+ Minors do not interact.

You had been in a foul mood all day, no better yet all week. Any little thing Logan did got under your skin. He used your shampoo, and suddenly, you were slinging the bottle across the bathroom. He made your coffee, and you snatched it away from him. He said good morning, and you responded with a roll of your eyes and a "good morning" under your breath. It seemed like all you wanted to do was pick a fight. And your attitude was aimed solely at him.

Logan noticed how relaxed and sweet you were with Wade. He watched as you laughed, and it he wouldn't lie it stung him a bit. You seemed to enjoy that annoying fucks company more than his. Logan had been trying so hard to get back into your good graces for the past couple of days now. When he spoke to you, he made sure his tone of voice was soft. He didn't want to trigger whatever animosity you had for him.

He didn't like feeling as if he were walking on eggshells around you. But he didn't know what to do - or what he did for you to act this way. The only thing he knows is that when you got this way, he hated it. Logan had a hard time controlling his temper, and you certainly knew how to test his patience. So much so that he had to leave the apartment you two live in and spend the night at Wades place.

Today, he had enough.

Logan had been trying to put your bookshelf together today. One you picked out at ikea, and he made a comment on building you a better one that would last much longer. You were hell bent on this particular shelf that could fit right in the corner of your living room. You bugged him all week to do it. But he had been busy working, and then by the time he came home, he was exhausted.

"Baby, can ya' grab me a beer while i do this?" He spoke up as he looked over the instructions. His eyes trained on the visual image on the flimsy piece of paper. His vision straining a bit.

"No," you snapped when logan asked you to get him a beer from the fridge. "Get it yourself. I'm not your maid."

Logan sighed and took a deep breath. He didn't want to snap at you, but you made it really fucking hard not to. "Fine."

He got up, tossing the instructions down and going over to the fridge. You were standing there as his shoulder brushed yours, and his hard gaze fell on you. You shrunk down a bit and went back to sit down at the table. You didn't know why you were being an asshole. You wish you weren't this way. You always seemed to get agitated with the people who never deserved it.

"Wanna tell me what crawled up your ass?"Logan popped his beer open and took a long swig. "I'm trying not to react but it's really hard dealing with your bitchy attitude all week and I've been trying my fuckin' best to please ya."

Logan regretted those words the moment they left his mouth. Your nonchalant reaction to them only pissed him off more.

You didn't respond. You only shrugged your shoulders and went back to reading your book at the table. You couldn't tell him what was wrong, because you had no idea either. He didn't do anything. You were just not in a good mood, and unfortunately, logan was taking the blunt of it. You know his feelings were probably hurt. Especially after seeing you so upbeat and happy when Wade was around.

Logan took another sip of his beer and slammed the bottle down on the table right next to you, causing you to jump a little. He leaned over the back of the chair. his lips ghosting your ear. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you didn't need to see his face to know he's mad. You've pushed him too far. He had been patient, and you kept pushing. You kept snapping and being mouthy.

"Go in the bedroom and get undressed." His voice is low and dangerous in your ear.

"But" you tried to argue back, knowing what he wanted to do.

"Don't." His voice was soft again. "No buts I've had about enough of your fuckin' attitude. Go in the bedroom, get undressed, and I'll meet ya' in there."

You turned to look up at him from your seat. Your eyes pleaded for him to change his mind. Yet you knew you deserved it. Everything you've done and said led up to this moment.

"Now." He commanded and picked up his beer and finished it off.

You quickly rose to your feet and carefully got up, trying not to look up at him. He could be intimidating when he's angry. He'd never actually hurt you. You and logan had this agreement since you began dating. Punishments were a pretty normal thing. Logan hated giving them just and much as you hated getting them. (Well, you and him didn't hate them all the time) they did help you, and he knew that. All of the times, when you were overwhelmed with emotions and didn't know how to handle them — this was an outlet for you to let it all out. You would ask for a punishment. Logan always gave you what you wanted and pampered you when it was all done.

You went into your shared room and stripped down until you were completely naked. You sat on the edge of the bed, hanging your head. Hoping logan would take some pity on you. The room was dark, save for the sunset peaking through your curtains.

Logan sat down at the chair you were in before leaving. He tried to collect himself before joining you. He really just wanted you to talk to him. He wanted to understand you. Understand what he did wrong. Understand why you seemed so angry, but he remembered your eyes. You looked so sad and unsure of yourself. All he wanted to do was scoop you up in his arms and protect you from your feelings. He knows doing this will help clear your mind.

He sat there for a couple more minutes, letting you anticipate what was coming, but also trying to calm himself.

Finally, logan walked into the room and saw you at the edge of the bed. You looked defeated. His eyes softened slightly, but he knew he had to go through with this. If you didn't want the punishment, you would use your safeword. You've used it many times before. Since you didn't say anything and you complied to strip off your clothes. He sensed you wanted this punishment if it made you nervous.

"Look at me, baby." He walked to stand above you. His finger lifted your chin up. Your eyes met his. You made it so hard for him to stay mad at you.

You were just so sweet even if you were a fucking pain in the ass to handle. Too sweet for someone like him sometimes.

You looked up at him, his touch was gentle on your face. His hazel eyes weren't boring into yours. He seemed remorseful for what he was about to do. He knew he had to. He couldn't let you continue being so rude and disrespectful towards him. He also knew you needed this. Your body language told him everything.

Logan let go of your chin and took off his white tank top, throwing it across the room. Your eyes ran up and down his body. Your thighs squeezed together. You could feel your arousal already pooling between your legs.

He ran a hand through his hair. "How do ya' want it, hand or belt?"

You hesitated to answer at first.

"Uhmm, your hand." Your voice was quiet.

Logan smirked, noting how quickly your little attitude was already changing. "Alright, it'll be my hand, and we'll do ten spanks. Sound good?"

You nodded and bit down on your bottom lip.

"Use your words, baby." Logan got closer, invading your space. He placed his hands on either side of your hips, his grip firm, but still gentle. He could feel his cock already beginning to strain against the cold metal of his zipper.

"Sounds good." You spoke again quietly.

"Okay." He leaned down and gave the corner of your mouth a quick kiss. "Get up and lay over my lap. You remember what to say if you want this to stop. Yeah?"

"I say red." You jump down off the bed. Logan reluctantly releases your hips but moves back slightly to give you some space.

He sat down in the same spot you were sitting in. You stood there in front of him, your body bare for him. He took you all in and licked his lips. If you weren't being such a brat he'd fuck you instead. God, the things he'd do to you right now. He had to fight those urges. Those primal urges to pull you in his lap and drive his cock deep in your weeping cunt.

You wanted to apologize. You knew it was too little too late for that. No amount of apologizing would help you now. The thought of logan spanking you sent waves of arousal and fear through your body.

"Good girl." Logan praised. His deep, husky voice made your clit pulsate. He reached out, yanking you by the waist, and threw you over his lap.

You gasped as you were now laying across his thighs. His belt buckle digging into your side. Your feet dangling over the floor as you tried not to fall off him. He probably would like that, though. Seeing you fall and watching you get embarrassed.

"Lo, are you mad at me?" You turned to glance up at him over your shoulder.

His quirked an eyebrow up at you. "Mad? Don't ya' think it's a little too late to be askin' me that?" He sighed. "Yeah, I'm mad, but we'll discuss all of that later. Right now, I want ya' to count every spank I give your ass. Okay?"

You turned your head and looked down. You tried to keep your focus on a spot on the floor. It usually helped you deal with the pain and slight humiliation would feel. "Okay."

Logan rubbed his hand over the plush skin of your bottom. You heard him hum as you laid over his lap. Your ass reminded him of a ripe peach he wanted to sink his teeth into. Juicy, firm, soft all the things he liked.

"I hate doin' this. Punishing ya'. I'd much rather be balls deep inside ya' but you just had to hurt my feelings." Logan spoke from behind you. He wasn't really speaking to you rather than at you. He didn't care for your response or sorrys.

"Lo...I- I don't mean to." Your voice broke and your eyes blurred with tears.

You never thought how you were acting would actually hurt his feelings. Logan's never been good at expressing that before. Maybe your sudden mood swings were starting to really affect him. Even if it was your way of asking to be punished — or you were just not feeling like yourself and the sudden wave of sadness made you lash out.

Regardless, it wasn't fair to logan. You see that now. You always saw him as this invincible man where nothing could hurt him. Not even harsh words and the silent treatment. You were wrong. So very wrong.

"Start counting." He interrupted you. His hand, going back to connect with your ass with a harsh slap.

You whimpered, and tears fell from your eyes. "O-ne."

Logan rubbed over the spot he just spanked. You were already crying, and he's barely gotten started. He didn't give you much time to collect yourself before his hand was reconnecting in hard slap to your ass. He watches as the skin ripples from the impact. His cock growing harder watching your ass jiggle as you took your punishment. He had to bit his tongue and not make a comment on it, know how you'd you get embarrassed. Even if he'd love seeing you get that way.

"T-two." You cried out. Your tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor beneath you, creating small salty puddles.

Logan's hand reeled back again, spanking you over and over. He didn't slow down or go easy on you. Every swat felt like your ass all the way down to your thighs would go numb from the pain. You were a sobbing mess as you struggled to even count for him.

"Shh, shh baby, we're almost done." He soothed you and kissed your temple. "You're doing so good."

Your mind was in a haze now. You couldn't remember being upset. The only thing on your mind was logan and the stinging pain he was inflicting to your ass. His rough hands groping at your skin before delivering another harsh blow.

You could feel your juices running down your legs. You hoped logan wouldn't notice how turned on you also were getting. The more you cried and got it all out, the better you felt. As weird as it probably sounded to some. This made you feel at ease once it was all said and done.

Logan noticed you go silent. The only sound coming from your lips were soft cries.

"Do ya' know what number we're at now?" He rubbed down your back, avoiding your ass for now.

You shook your head. "N-no."

"We're at eight. almost done." Logan reassured, his hand slowly inching down your back and resting on the curve of your sore cheeks.

You took a few steady deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Repeating the action over and over again.

Logan observed the way you were trying to pull yourself together. He gave you a small smile before continuing on. He gave your ass a light little tap, signaling you he was about to start again. You braced yourself as your body hung over his lap. Your toes danced across the floor while you desperately tried to keep yourself perfectly balanced.

"Nine." You yelped a little louder. His hand came down again. The sounds that were made each time his palm connected to your skin sent a shiver down your spine.

"....t-ten." Your voice was raspy, barely even above a whisper as you counted the final blow.

"There we go, baby. We're done. We're all done." Logan went right back into soothing you. He looked down towards your ass watching your body trembling. "You're so strong, ya' know that? So good."

You tried to catch your breath as you choked back another sob. Your face was tear stained, and your makeup ruined.

Logan rubbed up and down the back of your thighs as well. His hand sneaking in between them. He bit his lip as he noticed how wet you got during your punishment. Your inner thighs sticky with your slick. He ran a finger along your wet slit, teasing you. Your nails dig into his strong thighs.

"Mmm, you feel so soft." He purred above you.

Your pussy was drenched with your juices. Your body was still shaking from your punishment. Your ass felt like it was on fire. Logan moved his middle finger up and down along your slit before taking his middle and index finger to spread open your sensitive lips. You turned your head to watch as logan admired your sex dripping for him. He loved the way it glistened. He watched as your walls clenched around nothing, practically begging him to fill you up.

All that attitude, sadness, and feelings of self-doubt of yours were fading away.

"Logan, please," you begged him. Your voice, still raspy. He did a double take at your disheveled appearance. Your eyes bloodshot with your mascara running, smudging your under eyes.

Logan felt so bad for making you cry like that. He felt even worse for not taking it easy on you when he was spanking you. Even if it helped you get over whatever it was you that bothered you. But he couldn't deny how hard it made him as well.

He didn't respond as he spread your lips further apart, letting the cold air of your bedroom hit your entrance. Your face heating up while logan fully exposes you. Your clit throbbing as it goes ignored. He takes his thumb and rubs the outer part of your opening, getting it nice and ready. You moan, and logan doesn't stop looking at you.

"Ya' have the tightest little pussy." He commented, feeling how your entrance wants to take in his thumb, but he doesn't push it in. Not yet.

Instead, he pulls it away, and you whine; a small pout forming on your face. You began squirming over his lap, his erection pressing right against your stomach. You can see just how feral he wants to be become. His pupils blown completely until out, you can't see the color anymore. His nostrils flared while smelling your arousal all in the room.

"This is how it's gonna be. I'll let ya' cum on my fingers. That's all ya' get tonight. Jus' my fingers. You don't deserve my dick. " His tone was strong and commanding as he told you how the rest of the night was going to go.

That's when you knew your punishment didn't just stop once the spanking was over with.

"Will you still help me get cleaned up afterward?" You felt a little disappointed and on the verge of crying again when he rejected you. Logan usually always fucked you after your punishment. This time it was so different.

"Baby, I'm always gonna take of ya." Logan reassured. Which almost made you feel better.

He finally slipped a finger inside you. Your walls instinctively squeeze around his thick digit. You cried out in pleasure as you squirmed more. The pad of his finger slowly rubbing and pressing firmly on that spongey spot on your walls. You arched your back and dug your nails into his skin through his jeans.

"Hmmphf.... more lo— I need more." You begged.

Your head felt dizzy from all the sensations you felt. Your ass was still in so much pain but logans attention to your pussy kept your mind off it. Normally, he would tease you longer. Make you beg until you were a complete wreck. He couldn't bring himself to do that tonight. He felt guilty for spanking you the way he did. But still wasn't going to give you his cock.

Logan gently pushed another finger inside you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan as he began pumping them in and out of you slowly. You felt his cock twitch in his jeans under you. His fingers knuckle deep in your cunt as he trusted them inside you. He curled them up and made sure to pay close attention to your g-spot, pressing on it and massaging it. Your walls clenching up and your toes curling.

"You okay, baby? Logan checked in, but his fingers didn’t slow.

"Y-yes...m'okay keeping going" You stammered out, as you tried to keep focus.

He chuckled and picked up the pace. His fingers were making your pussy create the most vulgar wet sounds you've ever heard. Your slick soaking his hand as he fucked you. Your legs shook and he took his other hand to rub tight circles over your clit. You could feel your orgasm building up. That coil in your lower belly tightening as logan fingered you hard and deep.

"F-fu- logan, I can't hold it." You warned him. Your moans were getting louder and more desperate.

"Aaah! god! I'm gonna-" You mewled while your cunt was being spread open. His long, thick fingers working in and out of you.

That only spurred him on until you were cuming all over his hands. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you hold onto his thighs for dear life.

Logan didn't stop. His fingers still moved in and out of you while his other hand payed attention to your throbbing clit. He milked your pussy as you rode out your release. He finally slowed down and stilled his hands. Carefully, he removed his fingers with a loud shlick. A string of your juices still connecting to them. He brought them up to his lips, sticking them in his mouth.

Logan hummed at the taste of you. "You're so sweet. " You wanted to hide your face. Your eyes glossy from your orgasm.

"Come on, on your knees." He patted your ass gently. You didn't move at first. Your body was too weak, and your mind was still too cloudy think.

He noticed your hesitation and figured out why. He placed his hands on your waist and moved you gently to the floor to sit back on your knees.

"Jus' because I'm not sticking my dick in you tonight doesn't mean I can't get off, too." He grunted and unbuckled his belt.

Logan unzipped his pants and his cock sprung free almost smacking you in the face. The head of his cock leaking precum. You lick your lips and immediately try to taste him. He grabbed your jaw firm but not enough to hurt you.

"Ah ah, and what do you think you're doing?" He smirked, taking his cock in his hand.

"I thought you'd want me to use my mouth." You looked up at him, confusion written all over your face.

"Ya' don't get to blow me either. Ya' get to watch me jerk myself off and cum all over that pretty face of yours." Logan let go of your jaw and stood up straight. His form towering over yours as you kneeled in front of him.

"Oh." You wiped your eyes. You felt rejected yet again, but honestly, you understand why. You were a bitch to him for the past week. It was only fair and definitely part of the punishment.

"If you're good. I might let you ride me tomorrow mornin'." He looked down at you, giving you a small smile. You know him telling you no was just as difficult.

Logans abs flexed as his hand slowly started stroking his cock. His thumb pushing down on his tip, smearing in his precum. He let out a loud hiss and groaned. You watched from your position. You shift in your spot as you feel yourself getting wetter. Logan was taking his time. He was making a show of it – wanting you to see what you're missing. His body glistened with sweat. His mouth parted as he muttered "fuck" under his breath.

His hand moved up and down, pumping himself above you. Your eyes were in awe at how beautiful he was. You watched how his abs flexed and his Adam's apple danced. You wanted to reach out and help him. You wanted to apologize with your mouth full of his cock. He wasn't going to let you do any of that.

"Ahh, goddammit. If you weren't such a brat, I'd have ya' split open right now." He grunted again. "Make ya call me sir with my dick in the back of your throat."

"You still can." You reminded him.

He laughed. "Nice try, but no. Only good girls get my dick. Ya' haven't been good."

You frowned and kept your hands in your lap. Your juices were dripping down your legs and little to the floor. You've never been more frustrated and turned on in your life. You watched logan stroking himself. His eyes half lidded, and his muscles flexed with every movement. His pace quickened and you could tell he was about to cum. He cupped his balls with his other hand, making his knees buckle slighlty. Your clit ached at the sight before you.

"Goddamn," he whispered to himself while his hand moved at a faster pace. "See what ya' do to me? How hard ya' make me?"

You watched in awe as your pussy ached more for him. You were on the verge of pouting but remembered what he told you. "Ya can ride me in the mornin" his words echoed in your ear. That promise was enough to keep you at bay and kneeling down before him like a good girl. His good girl. That's what you wanted to be again.

His chest was rising and falling faster. Logan gave himself a few more long strokes, and he was finishing all over your face. He growled harshly and ropes of cum shot out onto your mouth and chin. He was careful not to get any in your eyes or hair. Logan kept pumping himself, milking every single drop he had left in him. You went to move away, but the hand that was on his balls grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer. Your face just millimeters away from his cock and heavy balls. His hand finally stilled.

All you could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing. You waited until he came down from his high. His release had hit him hard, too, just as yours did. Logan had been pent up with so much frustration over these past couple of weeks because of you. You felt his hand letting go of your neck. You went to rub the sore spot where his fingers dug into your skin. He didn't speak to you yet. He was still trying to catch his breath after his release.

Logan dragged his hand down his face and looked you over once more. He gently took you by the upper arms and put you on your feet. Your legs felt wobbly, and the stinging pain on your ass returned. Logans eyes trailed up and down your body, focusing on your face.

You were a mess, cheeks all tear stained. Your makeup smudged and now his cum dripping down your chin. You were a beautiful sight. One logan wanted to admire forever. If he had his phone; he'd make this moment his lockscreen and jerk off to it when you weren't around.

Your tongue inched out to lick some of the cum off your lips. You loved the way he tasted and hated how he wouldn't let you have more. Logan felt his cock twitching again but chose to ignore it. He let out a shuddered breath and shook his head.

"Ya' alright? Was that too much?" He bent down, grabbing his discarded shirt off the floor. Logan carefully wipe off the mess on your face, starting with his cum.

"Not too much." You shook your head. "I'm fine." You tried to fix up your makeup, but it was really no use.

He leaned down and gave your forehead a sweet kiss.

"We need to get some aloe on your ass. It'll help sooth that burning feelin" Logan moved around the room as you stood in your spot. You wrapped your arms around your middle while you watched him hunt for the aloe and put his jeans back on.

Logan noticed how you were hugging around yourself. He cursed under his breath, fixing himself back in his pants. There was something still lingering in the air. He couldn't put his finger on it.

"C'mere baby." He took your arms from around you and pulled you to him in a warm embrace. You buried your face in his chest, taking in his scent. Logan could sense how you needed his comfort more than some lotion right now.

You two stood in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. He finally spoke up, breaking the silence.

"If ya' don't wanna talk about what's been bothering ya' I want pressure. Jus' know I'm all ears once you're ever ready to tell me"

You nodded and closed your eyes, not wanting him to let you go.

"Sometimes I don't know what's wrong." You whispered to him.

"And that's okay." He kissed the top of your head. "Let's take a bath together, and I'll cook ya' dinner."

"Are you gonna finish my bookshelf?" You moved your head away to meet his gentle gaze.

Logan chuckled and playfully swatted your ass. "Yeah, yeah, I'll finish that damn bookshelf."

The rest of your night was spent with you in logans arms after he helped get you all cleaned up. He got our your favorite sweatshirt and made you food. You sat on the couch watching him get frustrated with the instructions to your bookshelf that he had to remind you he could've just made you a better one. Logan did end up finishing it for you and joined you on the couch, pulling you into his lap where you both ended up falling asleep.

[kithtaehyung]

to ryen of three years ago, you have no idea what’s gonna happen when you hit post on a little fic you almost kept in the drafts. you’re still sitting in that coffee shop, shaking because you know you poured a lot into this without knowing whether it would be well received or not—or not received at all. if it didn’t go well, this would be your last story, right? you’d close the door and you’d move on to other things. i know you’re thinking it now.

but you’re gonna find something out, and i don’t know how else to tell you this, but be prepared.

because you didn’t close a door. you opened one.

it’s a door to a house that you’ll make your home, prepping rooms on rooms for people that want to move in with beautifully peeled tangerines in hand. there will be fun times in the kitchen, introspective nights in the dark. music will flow from floor to floor, with slumber parties happening every weekend in the inbox and on what you’ll end up calling drop days. fireworks will become surprisingly special, and watching them while thinking of a balcony will always make you cry.

you’ll even end up building a reading nook one winter, where plenty of people will stay when they need to relax or unwind. there’s even gonna be a book club, where others will discuss your series—yes, series!—amongst themselves while theorizing and debating. you’ll find people that love characters you haven’t even written yet, or hilariously fight over a brother that you haven’t even fully introduced yet. and you’re simply gonna smile, watching them all while thinking about how much you love them.

there will be high highs and low lows. it will be lonelier and lonelier. you won’t tell people right away about the nights you cried, whether bc of the emotional toll writing will have or just things they won’t know until later. and you’re rarely gonna mention some things you’ll see in your messages from time to time, because they don’t need to know.

sometimes you’re gonna feel like giving up or quitting, especially when your circle gets smaller and smaller. it’s gonna be a lot of sitting on the swing, watching people play in the distance because you don’t want to potentially disrupt anything by joining them.

but that’s life. and you’ll eventually meet new people, genuine friends. you’ll even meet people in person that you’ll laugh with, cry with, sit with, all because you had the courage to share this one thing. people will keep finding your story and share their own experiences about it with you. many, many fantastic people with names, emojis, and anon faces will come by and walk alongside you on this journey.

and somehow, for whatever reason, a person in seoul is gonna sync up a lot with your posting. and it’s gonna turn into the funniest, most terrifying 3tan tradition.

but because of this outpouring of love, your life is gonna change for the better. a lot of lives will change for the better. the bad stuff will pale in comparison to the good, and you’ll take it all because that means you’re living, living, loving.

so thank you, to you and 3tan yoongi, for opening the door.

three tangerines (m) | myg

title: three tangerines pairing: yoongi x reader rating/genre: m ; smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart. (loosely based off one part of “the window” by silvershine) warnings: pov switch (just one), age gap implied, cursing, dirty talk, choking, hair pulling, thigh riding, oral (m/f rec), sl*t/wh*re mentions, spanking, size kink, hand kink, pussy slapping, penetration, protected sex, rough sex, fingering, breast play, slight ass play, daechwita yoongi should be a warning in itself.. i think that’s it? he keeps the chains on so there’s that, too lmao note: this is a super late birthday present for the wonderful @sketchguk​ <3 ily, teresa and i hope you have fun with this one lololol. and thank you endlessly to @taesinferno​ @chateautae​ and @lavienjin for being angel betas! you all mean the world to me and you know i got you if you need anything in return. note 2: ALSO.. thank you all so much for the level of interest bc that taglist was popping. i did not expect that turnout (or to laugh so much at all of your answers and screams LOL) so you gave me incredible motivation to keep writing. i’m also trying something new which you will see if you get to the end. seriously, ty ty!  total word count: 12k drop date: november 16th, 2021, 7:17pm est 20/11/2021 update: also posted on ao3  04/01/2022 update: ⇥ masterlist

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When Yoongi told you he would be there if you needed anything, this isn’t what he had in mind.

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[girlfishes]

Radblr hot take here but I believe that men are capable of changing to be better. To say that they are incapable of being good is saying that they aren’t fully responsible for what they do because they aren’t capable of being better.

No. They can be better. And they are morally worse and more corrupt for it. Men can choose to fight the patriarchy and treat their female counterparts with respect and dignity. But they choose not to, because they can reap the same or more societal benefits by being misogynistic.

Baby boys aren’t born misogynistic. Sure, they may be born with whatever male hormonal differences do, but that isn’t even 1% of the reason why they grow up to be misogynists.

As they grow up they learn that misogyny is rewarded. As they grow up they are exposed to porn which they choose to use as a sexual role model. As they grow up they watch their parents model a hierarchal power dynamic. They see all of this, and they like it. They choose it for themselves.

I think that men can change for the better. People here hear this and say “you can’t teach them” or “coddling them won’t do shit” and I agree. What women need to do is stop rewarding and enabling their behavior.

We need to free women from human trafficking and exploitation, and we also need to convince women who make porn of their own free will to stop. We need to punish the men who make it. We need to help women out of their abusive marriages, and we also need to convince women who are in relationships with even slightly misogynistic men to end them. We need to have zero tolerance for casual misogyny. We need to start shunning men who are misogynists. We need to hold accountable women who are enabling the men in their lives to hurt other women. Shun men who watch porn. Shun men who say slurs. Stop having their children.

And for the men sympathetic to our cause, we need to convince them to use their privilege as men to further feminist goals. We need them to vote for women’s rights. We need them to intervene during “locker room” misogynistic talk when women aren’t around. We need them to break up the male solidarity around misogyny in a way only they can do.

But we can’t do this as individuals. Strength comes in numbers. Women do face societal consequences for standing up to misogyny. Other women need to defend her and provide for her needs. And in order to do this we need to educate ourselves. Make money. Be independent of men. Become doctors, lawyers, teachers. We need to do everything we can to support women in places where they cannot do these things.

If we can do all of this, men will change. Maybe not the men who are already set in their ways. But those growing up will see that misogyny does not reward them in life. They will not see porn. They will not see their mothers submitting to their fathers and they will not see women submitting to men. And they will choose to treat women as human beings. Because they can.

Radical feminism is not a doomerist movement. I have a future in mind. I hope you do too.

[starrrcane]

The Underworld Beneath Piltover:The surface

Summery: Sevika x nurse!reader who has graduated from a university in Piltover and has been stationed in the Undercity to provide services to those who cannot afford it, where she meets sevika.

Warning: none for this chapter. But eventual smut

Notes: this is my first multiple chapter fanfiction, if this does well I might actually write multiple parts. This takes place pre-act one season 1

Piltover had always been a city of stark contrasts—gleaming towers of progress, their glass facades reflecting an unyielding sun, while the Underbelly beneath it writhed in shadow. The bustle of innovation and intellect existed above, while violence, desperation, and survival ruled the depths below. But for you, freshly graduated from the prestigious medical university of Piltover, there was only one truth: the city was a place of opportunity. It was a chance to prove your worth, to be a part of something larger, something that would make your parents proud. That is, until your advisors handed you a peculiar assignment.

"Go to the Undercity," they had said, with a sort of dismissive finality. "We have an agreement with a businessman named Silco. He runs some operations down there, and you’ll be helping with whatever injuries his people get into."

Silco. A name you had heard whispered in huddled corners, spoken with a reverence that both intrigued and unsettled you. You had expected it to be just another simple job—work with the injured, make your rounds, keep the peace.

You were wrong.

---

The hum of the city above was a distant murmur as you stepped off the rickety elevator that took you into the depths of Zaun, the Underworld where little sunlight reached, and the air was thick with the smell of chemicals and oil. The people here lived in constant struggle—fighting for their survival, for any scrap of hope in a city that seemed to ignore them.

At first glance, the place was dark, chaotic, and a little terrifying, but the further you ventured, the more you realized it was a world of its own—raw, dangerous, but oddly familiar. A place where only the strongest survived, and in your case, the most skilled healer.

"Welcome to your new home," said a voice from behind you, cool and composed.

You turned to see a woman—tall, with dark hair, and an aura that radiated control and authority. Her eyes, however, were sharp, like knives. Sevika.

She was Silco’s right hand women. You had heard of her, of course, the enforcer, the one who kept things running smoothly in the shadows of Zaun. Her reputation preceded her: cold, efficient, and—at least from what you had gathered—somehow untouchable.

"Silco has assigned me to show you around," Sevika continued, her tone as neutral as ever, though there was a slight edge to it that suggested she wasn’t exactly thrilled by the task. "Don’t expect any luxury here. This isn’t Piltover."

Her eyes narrowed as she glanced at you, though there was no clear sign of animosity. Just... wariness. A wariness that somehow felt more personal than professional.

"I don’t need a tour," you said, trying to meet her gaze with equal intensity. You could handle this. You had been trained for this. "Just point me to where I’ll be staying."

"Right down the hall." Sevika gestured toward a door that was far less polished than what you were accustomed to, but you would make do. You had no choice.

"And I assume you’ll be living nearby," you added, though it was more of a statement than a question. You had heard about her proximity to Silco’s operations, and the way people spoke of her hinted at a strange, almost familial bond.

She paused, just for a second, before nodding. "Right next door."

The words hung between you, their meaning ambiguous, like a challenge in disguise.

Sevika turned on her heel and walked away, her heavy boots clicking against the steel floor. You followed her down the hallway, your mind racing. There was something about her—the way she carried herself, the way her eyes lingered for just a fraction of a second too long on your face—that made you uneasy. But there was more to it than that. There was an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull between you that you couldn't quite define.

---

Later that evening, in the solitude of your apartment, you began to unpack your things. The room was sparse, though functional—a bed, a small desk, a few shelves for supplies. You could almost hear the hum of the city outside, the pulse of it echoing in the walls. But it was quieter here than it had been in Piltover. The silence felt almost oppressive.

The window overlooking the dim streets of Zaun cast a pale light over your work, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to think about what you had gotten into. This was no ordinary assignment. Silco wasn’t just a businessman, as your advisors had suggested. He was a kingpin, a figure in the underworld of Zaun who controlled everything from crime to the very air they breathed. And you were here to heal his people—his *henchmen*, as some called them.

A knock at your door interrupted your thoughts.

You opened it to find Sevika standing in the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest, as if she were weighing whether or not to speak.

"I’ll be going on a supply run tonight," she said, her voice low. "We’re going to need you to patch up some of the boys once we get back. Nothing too severe, but... be ready."

You nodded, still uncertain about the woman who stood before you. She was cold, distant, and appeared to have no interest in making friends with you. But there was something about the way she stood, the way her gaze flicked over you with a strange intensity.

She was trying not to care.

"Sure. I’ll be ready," you replied, though you couldn’t help but notice the way her eyes lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary before she turned away.

"Good," Sevika said, her voice just a little softer than before. "Don’t get too comfortable. The Undercity has a way of breaking people."

And with that, she walked off down the hall, disappearing into the darkness of the night.

---

In the silence that followed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Sevika was difficult to read, but you could feel the tension between you—subtle, unspoken, yet undeniable. She was trying her best not to like you, to keep her distance, to remain indifferent. But that was fine, you thought. You didn’t need her approval. You had your own mission.

Still, the more time you spent in the Underworld, the more you realized that there were some things—some people—that couldn’t be ignored.

And Sevika... Sevika was definitely one of them.

[doodlesfromthebird]

I'm just going to establish that the large boy is Mattheus and the willowy halloween gremlin is Kassian. sO. THERES A FACT.... Kassian has ghostly powers, including a limited ability to phase through objects. He can't phase mundane clothing on his back or other people. He phases through walls so often he forgets which doors are "pull" or "push". Theres typically a bit of confusion when he HAS to use one. MORE FACTS UNDER CUT!

Mattheus' super strength developed as a child and it was a difficult thing for him to control. He accidentally broke a bone in one of his brothers hands when playing and he felt so awful he wore oven mitts on his hands for a week, as if it would lessen the effects of his strength

Mattheus loves olives and Kassian loathes them entirely, so whenever offered some he'll give them to Mattheus. Kassian will finish whatever sweets Mattheus can' if the sweets are too rich.

Kassian has unnecessarily swoopy cursive for handwriting. Mattheus has very sharp and scratchy, large print. (His "S"'s all look like lightning bolts. It's very cute.)

Mattheus is the tallest person in his family. He's 6'5" (almost 200 cm) the second tallest is his brother, Torin at 5'7 (abt 173cm) by a few cm. Mattheus towers over everyone in his family.

Kassian is allergic to the entire season of Spring. Pollen is constantly assaulting his sinuses, he gets eaten alive by bugs, and he swears the springtime sun gives him hives. (it doesn't, he's being drama queen)

Neither of them get much of an opportunity to do artsy hobbies, but Mattheus is fairly skilled in pottery and ceramics, and kassian likes drawing flowers and dabbles in candle-making.

they're both monster-hunting partners that specialize in exterminating a very particular kind of monster. Kassian is a mage that specializes in dark and illusion magic where Mattheus is a fighter that specializes in two-handed heavy weapons. They're very good at it.

Yes, they've done the thing where Mattheus does pushups and Kassian sits on his back.

Kassian is very open with his expressions, (he's my muse for intense expression drawing) and body-language. He's very theatrical, but he's easily embarrassed and quick to shrink in on himself. Mattheus is outwardly very stoic but is actually very passionate and softhearted.

Mattheus is what people in their world call a "young god". It's a very demigod inspired concept, where god-like traits are given to humans via gods/guardians as a sort of "blessing" if a particular family was favored by a divine being, or if the human themself was favored. Mattheus (and his sis Mainara) was blessed by two sibling gods because they favored his mother's side (long story, but in short they both had the hots for his grandmother) to which his parents were like..."uh thanks i guess??"

Kassian is the kind of person who doesn't give pencils back/puts empty containers of food back in the pantry when he's done. Mattheus drinks milk out of the carton and sneezes unnecessarily loud. Both can cook, but they both wait til they have no clothes left to do laundry.

The way they fight relies on a sort of linking of mind and energy (the closest I can think of is "drift compatibility") in a way that grounds the other as sort of an anchor. It balances Kass's sensitivity to spiritual noise and Mattheus's grounded and focused nature.

Kassian easily picks up on hidden magical frequencies mattheus can't, and Mattheus's senses are heightened to "real world" sounds and smells Kassian can't detect. Mattheus is a good strategist/planner/tracker and Kassian can slither into places to scout.

Mattheus loves all animals but especially dogs. Big dogs. Kassian is a little skittish and hesitant around living things smaller than him, but typically likes quiet animals like cats and rabbits. Big animals love HIM though and he's been knocked over by many a large dog/creature

Kassian is 25 (December 24th) Mattheus is 23 (August 30th) [he often gets "you're a lot younger than you look" I think if you get to know him a little bit and the first impression of his height & strong features fade, you kind of see he still has a boyishness to his face]

[so-otterly-jaded]

Hijacking this to add: If you think you're being clever by differentiating the nuance of how "the operations to deal with a miscarriage/ectopic/stillbirth isn't actually 'abortion' so there's nothing to worry about," you're not. The people who are trying to fight for reproductive rights generally understand this better than the ones who want to ban abortion. Which is to say, the people who need this information don't know or just don't care what the difference is, and see these issues as perfectly acceptable. Some of them even see it as divine judgement against "the other" for not living the right life, and believe that they are lives we have no right saving because "divine plans" or whatever.

For all intents and purposes, if the result is not a naturally conceived fetus fully forming into a baby and surviving to be birthed, they will try to argue that it's an abortion. These people are arguing that IVF leads to dozens of abortions at a time because frozen, fertilized embryos are sometimes disposed of for various reasons, and that's also abortion in their eyes.

The point is controlling and punishing anyone with a uterus, and it's never been anything else. We've been trying to say as much for years, decades even. Maybe now that it's actually happening some eyes will open but dear gods, we absolutely did not have to get here. We did not have to see people sacrificed for you to wake up, but here we are.

I want to make something really clear that I think Anti-Choice people have failed to understand that Pro Choicers definitely saw coming.

An exception for Rape, Life of the Mother, and Incest mean nothing when you have to prove it in a court of law, or get a team of lawyers and judges to sign off on it which can take weeks or even months.

Weeks a person dying hasn't got. Women are now dying. Actually dying. Because hospitals legally could not save their lives until they could wake up a judge and get their lawyers, and another sides lawyers awake and up and figured out if it was actually necessary or not. All people with no understanding of medicine, and no attatchment to the person suffering who simply doesn't want to die.

There's a lot more I could cover, like the increase in illegal abortion, abortion tourism, the massive increase in infant abandonment... but I'm going to leave it here.

People are dying. People who should be alive. Who would be alive if abortion was legal and the hospital could have simply treated their patient without waiting for a dozen men with no medical experience in another building to decide if their patient actually needs treatment or not. And yes they do have to wait. Because if they don't they get charged with murder for trying to save a life.

Your policies are killing people. Not theoretical people. Not fetuses with no conscious thought or pain. Adults with lives. Teenagers with a whole life ahead of them. Mothers with children who need them. Real people with conscious thought, with fear, with pain. People who meet every definition of personhood.

[luimagines]

Wind Calls You Mom

Another commission!

They asked for Wind calling Reader mom and then gets embarrassed about it.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When you first started traveling with the boys, you thought you were about to jump off a cliff.

Don’t get it mixed up. You adore each and every one of them, but you were sure that their antics were going to make you go gray before thirty.

You had known that teenage boys were a pain even on the best of days. But you didn’t realize how quickly you would have been singled out as it was. And because they were all nasty, testosterone filled menaces, your poor nose was about to keel over and call it quits.

So! Much to your behest, you took it upon yourself (by gently bullying them) to be the one to actually keep them on top of their cleanliness and their hygiene because you refused to baby these nearly fully grown men. Honestly, you could have started crying by the stench alone if you had the misfortune of being down wind of them.

“Take a shower.” You held a hand up, shutting the poor boy down before he could say anything else.

“Oh come on!” Wind whines, dramatically pouting and throwing his hands by his sides. “It’s not even that bad-!”

“Because you’re the one living in it.” You press, keeping your hand up between you both. “Either go jump in the river or change your clothes- for goodness sake-!”

Wind turns to one of the other guys for support but they all collectively shrug. This isn't a battle they’re willing to fight. You’ve been quite adamant about it over the weeks you’ve traveled with them. Time in particular isn’t going to fight you on this and you know it.

Teenage boys smell the worst.

“Next town we go to I’m getting all of you some sort of odor neutralizer.” You grumble and turn back to cleaning your weapon. “It’s a miracle I haven’t dropped dead.”

Wind groans even louder. 

Hyrule snickers in the background. You turn and point a finger to him, fighting to keep a straight face as you speak again. “Don’t you start! You’re one of the worst offenders!”

“Who am I offending?” Hyrule puts a melodramatic hand to his chest.

“My nose!”

“Tough.”

You stand, ready to fight the boy before Wind flops over, dragging you back down to your spot. He doesn’t actually smell that bad. If you think onions aren’t that smelly to begin with, that is. You don’t even know why he smells like onions. You didn’t even eat onions today!

“Wind! Get off! You smell!” You groan and try to push him off. He chooses violence and latches on instead. 

“I don’t want to now.” He pouts. “You’re being mean.”

“I am not!” You try to push him off again with more force. “Wind!”

“Wind.” Warrior comes to your rescue. “Come on. We have to do laundry anyway. We can clean your clothes and it’ll solve the issue.”

Wind rolls over, covering himself with dirt as he hits the ground. “You’re no fun.”

Warrior chuckles. “And you smell.”

“HA!”

“Warrior, you traitor.” Wind grumbles and gets up. His whole back is filthy and it makes you laugh.

“Hold on, Sailor.” You take a rag and brush him off. You turn him around and wipe the rouge dirt on his cheeks as well while you’re at it. “Honestly, it’s a miracle you’re not sick after all of this.”

Wind sticks his tongue out. “Whatever mom.”

You roll your eyes and put the rag away. When you look back at Wind, you see that his cheeks have gone pink and that his ears are pinned down. He suddenly refuses to meet your eyes. The change startles you. What happened? You bend a bit to look him in the eye. “Wind?”

“I’m going!” He turns on his heels away from you and dashes off to where you know Wild and Legend were doing the laundry.

You tilt your head in question. Strange. What came over him? You turn to Warrior with an eyebrow raised to sell your unvoiced question.

Warrior snickers and covers his mouth with his hand.

Well that doesn’t answer your silent question at all! What are you missing?! You level Warrior with an incredulous look. “What? What’s so funny, Mr. Chuckles?”

Warrior meets your gaze easily with a charming smile. The laughter in his eyes is borderline obnoxious. “Really? Did you miss what he said?”

“Wind?” You say for mere clarification. “I happened to be a bit preoccupied at the time if you missed it. Poor kid covered himself with nothing but dirt and didn’t even care. I’d hate for his clothes to stain.”

Warrior snickers even more but doesn’t comment on your words. “He called you mom.”

You pause. 

He did, didn’t he? Huh… You heard for sure, but it just seemed like the typical teenage response for someone who was being a bit bratty. You can recall the amount of times you’ve done that yourself on a friend or over doting well meaning acquaintance. Heck, even sometimes to your own mother. But that was usually less funny than if you did it with other people.

You had thought that Wind was being sarcastic and didn’t want to bother with acknowledging it. Some battles just aren’t worth it. And you knew it would have been well deserved anyway.

However his reaction wasn't what you thought it would be. He looked embarrassed and awkward. He hadn’t meant to call you that at all.

You know that your silence doesn’t read well while you’re thinking but if Warrior hadn’t pointed it out, you fear how long it would have taken you to figure it out.

You cough, feeling your own cheeks go a bit pink as the realization washes over you. “I see.”

“Do you?” Warrior smirks and crosses his arms. “No shame in it if I need to further spell it out for you.”

“You have something in your teeth.” You say instead.

Warrior perks up and instantly goes looking for the mirror shield.

You try to keep from laughing, wondering how or if you should bother bringing up Wind’s little slip of the tongue. He called you mom- he’s probably mortified. 

You rub your knuckles against your forehead. Ok. This can’t stand. You’ll talk to him. Maybe not immediately but you don’t want Wind to shrink into himself and lose his confidence.

You wait until after dinner.

Instead of waiting for the right moment to make your move, you decide to simply sit yourself next to Wind once the boys had gone around amusing themselves by the fire. The resident pirate was moments from joining in but your presence seems to have embarrassed him once more.

So he’s also still thinking of his little slip up.

You tilt your head, trying to appear nonchalant. “...Everything good, Wind? Did you like dinner?”

He nods. 

You wait for him  to say something but he struggles to meet your eyes even now. His cheeks go pink again and you’re forced to think of a solution on the fly. You told yourself you were trying to avoid this! This is not avoiding it!

“Wind-”

“I’m sorry.” He says instead, rubbing the back of his neck. The poor boy finally turns his head to you. “I didn’t mean to call you that. It just came out.”

You sigh. Ok. He beat you to it. This is fine.

You sling your arm around his shoulders and ruffle his hair for the heck of it, trying to keep the energy casual. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t even notice.”

Wind turns toward you with wide, almost hopeful eyes. “Really?”

You nod. “Granted, I heard it, but I thought you were being sarcastic at first. I didn’t see a problem with it until Warrior decided to make it a problem.”

“Warrior?” Wind tilts his head, looking over to where the Captain was losing a card game to Four. It’s not even a close game. Four is wiping the floor with him. “What did he do?”

“In his words, he spelled it out for me.” You grumble. “He was laughing that it went over my head so easily.”

“...Oh.”

“...”

“...”

“I hope Four wins that game.”

“Warrior always loses anyway.”

You chuckle and ruffle his hair again. “You ok? Feel better?”

Wind laughs a little bit but nods.

You also feel a bit better, but there’s one thing that you want to ask now that you’ve thought about it. “I don’t smother you boys, do I? I’m not that bad, am I?”

“No, you are.” Wind answers honestly. “...But it’s nice.”

“You think so?” You say, ignoring the mild sting of his blunt honesty.

Wind nods again. “I think… that having someone to keep us clean and someone to make sure we’re all taken care of is helping us a lot…” You watch him think for a moment longer. Wind bites his cheek. “It… actually would’ve been nice to have someone give me snacks when I was on my adventure.”

You smile. “Happy to help.”

[revelboo]

Rev's been inactive for 15 whole minutes, everyone panic! Call the honor guard! The navy! Superman even!

/LH /J

Pffft

I’m just hiding out over here writing TF stuff because the Twitter writing community seems to be actively on fire right now and I don’t have the energy to deal with it

Broken Arrow Pt 10

TFP Megatron x Reader

• Curling an arm around you when you go limp against him, it’s almost impossible to let go of your wrist and shatter that connection tethering him to you, but he finally manages to let go, feels your fingers slide through his spark, the pull as he loses contact that urges him to curl himself tighter around you. Instead closing the plating protecting his spark, his servos unsteady as he stares down at you where you’re slumped against him, cheek against his shoulder. It wasn’t supposed to be like that, though he’s not entirely sure what he was thinking. Only that he’d wanted to feel someone touch him, he’d wanted to feel warm fingers stroking over his spark, holding and seeing him. All of him.

• Gripping your chin in his claws, he tips your head back. Your eyes are still closed and your pulse is slow when he strokes along the line of your throat, shifting your leash. Thinking about how you’d felt tangled in him, feeling you still, the connection new and fragile. Frightening. It’s not too late to end it, servos curling loosely about your throat even while knowing he won’t. He can’t when you’re all he really has that’s real, not plotting against him or scheming. That reminds him that he hadn’t always been the ruthless gladiator that had been born in that pit from pain and spilled energon. Staring up at the autocracy gambling on lives because everyone else had mattered so very little to them. Hating them and learning to be so much worse than they were just to survive. To throw them down.

• There’s a warmth coiled inside you, the thrum of something achingly familiar under your cheek and an arm curled around you, servos in your hair. That feeling is safety and home. Eyes opening at the soft clicking of a claw sliding back and forth over the length of your leash in Megatron’s fist, you try to figure out why you feel so exhausted. And then remember his servos gripping your wrist too hard, forcing you into contact with his spark, optics flickering that fitful purple from that crap he keeps taking. Everything after that kind of gets confusing as you flex your fingers and he looks down at you. Aware that he’s cradling you in his lap like a lover and of that scowl he’s aiming down at you. “Get off,” you mutter, trying to push against his chest and almost pitching backwards when lets you. Scrambling out of his lap on unsteady feet, because it’s not just exhaustion, you feel off balance. “You jerk.” Because whatever’s wrong must be his fault. “What did you do?”

• Standing slowly to tower over you, he catches your upper arm when your legs almost fold under you and you slump against him. It’s not a full bond, not exactly. He can feel it in the way his spark is aching, wanting to reconnect. Needing more than a one sided bond, because he can feel the jarring wrongness of it. Knows that a spark bond is meant to unite, to twine two halves together. Meant to be between two willing sparks, not this mess he’s made. Your little hands are pushing at him again, trying to break away and he wonders what it feels like to you. Does it hurt you like it hurts him, a shard wedged in his spark?

• “Stop fighting me, pet.” That command isn’t his usually demanding tone or his teasing, it’s almost tired and very bitter as his arms press you closer despite your attempts to get away. Because the warmth and feel of him against you is suddenly too much, you’re overwhelmed with him. Needing him to back off, because you can’t think beyond the urge to be closer. Claws on your chin, forcing your head up to meet his optics again. Demanding your attention as he stares down at you, optics narrowing. “Primus.”

Previous

[rametarin]

Anon, the reason the 80s was so colorful and the 90s was so cynical and bleak and dispirited was because in the 80s, youth culture treated life as if nothing mattered, since due to the constant saber rattling between nuclear states (The US and the Soviet Union), there was a pretty decent chance you'd wake up tomorrow and have to live through a nuclear apocalypse that would make a Mad Maxian world out of the earth.

And then after the Soviet Union fell, and that was no longer a military concern, the biggest threats after were based on pollution and climate change. Things that we did not have the technological or scientific means of properly fixing. So, we imagined that the future was going to be one of acid rain, natural disasters and wars in undeveloped nations from a lack of resources and development, thanks to all the soviet backed tinpot dictators fighting with their neighbors.

Our opponents in the 80s were a nuclear power. Our opponents in the 90s was our own ignorance of how to handle these very pressing problems that would require either living like cavemen or instituting inhumane and barbaric practices as gelding or eugenics to control population growth. When you don't have solutions to these problems, things look very grim.

Fears of the Soviets using their 20-80K tanks and just rolling over Western Europe before the US can get its carriers over there, was replaced with the crushing despair that one day the sea levels could rise and permanently make much of the planet uninhabitable. Because we needed medicine, electricity, heat and water, and how hilariously, psychotically pollutive and damaging burning coal without a proper system to deal with the coal dust, was.

And then because of fears of nuclear proliferation, the US and many countries legally tied their hands together from utilizing waste nuclear fuel for recycling and reappropriation. France and Japan did not and have further refined and employed nuclear waste managmant and reappropriation, and have thus figured out how to reduce the halflife of nuclear waste by a magnitude. Something that governments are now trying to undo, because it's a genuine way to reduce our radioactive nuclear waste and better manage it.

We have feedstock for agricultural animals that can prevent their flatulence from producing methane involved in climate change.

And one of the biggest changes is right under your nose. Do you understand what life was like before the internet?

Before the internet was widely available, and everything was just sorta experimental, you have posterboards for the local town or city you lived in. That was it. You could send folks mail the slow way, for oodles of cash and days to weeks of waiting. But your only information and culture access came from whatever the television was broadcasting, what books you had stocked around you in brick and mortar stores, and if that meant you were surrounded by ideologues that disagreed with you (either way), you just sorta sat in your house or apartment, unmingled.

Cell phones did not exist. Pay phones did. They had everybody's germs on them and it cost the equivalent of 1/5th of minimum wage for a minute. You want to talk to somebody outside your regional town? Dollar a minute for long distance.

Has anything actually gotten better, for all the work you talk about doing? Or is it just treading water in misery forever?

Anon, ten years ago gay people couldn't get married in large parts of the US. AIDS was an almost certain death sentence when I was in high school. I was looking at job boards the other day and found a part time gas station job that had health insurance as a benefit, which NEVER would have happened 15 years ago. When I was a kid, hitting your child was extremely normalized in the US and my parents were the weird ones for not doing it. There is a vaccine for chicken pox. I didn't meet anyone who had transitioned until my 20s because it was so uncommon to transition in the aughts, and now there are some states that protect your right to have gender affirming care provided by your health insurance. It's not all states, but it's better than the number of states that had it in 2010, which was zero. THERE ARE TENANTS UNIONS NOW. WE HAVE A VACCINE AGAINST CERVICAL CANCER.

And all of that has been the work of a lot of individuals and organizations and research teams and activists.

[notlhecxzsa]

Never Wanted Love Just A Fancy Car - N.R

Summary: Time seemed to pass by so quickly, everything seemed to be moving past between Natasha's fingers, but would she let the only thing that seemed to be giving her everything go? It is not what she wanted anyways... right?

Author's Note: Hii! Omg, finally! I hope this is enough to fill the weeks I haven't updated, I kind of got lost and everything's piling up. But, now, I finally have a good vision on how I want this to go! This is 3k+ words.

Warnings: Starting of Mean!Natasha (ughhh, here we go), bruises, mentions of abuse, sad Y/n (give my girl back her dog and lucy!)

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^

3rd Person's POV:

A week has already passed by, a routine was set between Y/n and Natasha. Inside that week, Maria, Clint and the other noticed how Natasha stayed in the penthouse, which was very unusual, given that she mostly lives in the manor. They chose not to mention it around the red head, thinking that they might just be thinking too much about it.

Y/n already knows the whole penthouse by heart, keeping everything as tidy as possible even though Natasha had kept saying that she has people to do those things. Making different delicious meals for the both of them, even making extra more for Clint, Maria, Bucky and Steve whom she met on the 3rd day of being there.

Y/n's kindness and attentiveness did not go unnoticed by the people that would come and go inside the penthouse, her actions warms the head of the people around her and makes their stomach churn in a very good way.

Natasha's eyes never left the petite figure of her 'significant other' wherever she goes and whatever she does. The fluttering of her heart makes her want to throw up as the compliments from her friends about Y/n makes her eyes roll. Though, she can't deny that her friends seemed to enjoy going to the penthouse ever since Y/n came.

Late night games and movies became a thing for the past week and a half, 'addicting meals'—as to how Bucky proclaimed it to be, are always served, all while Natasha kept to herself, specifically on times when she and Y/n are not alone.

She felt a magnetic-like energy, rather work at home than to do the work she normally would choose to do. Her tongue burning to get a taste of whatever's being cooked in the kitchen. The little moments and conversation that was spent between the younger girl became something she cherished and most awaited every single day, even though she will never admit it—even to herself.

Now, at the very moment, Y/n was cooking in the kitchen while Natasha seemed to be having a very serious call on the balcony with someone. Y/n's eyes kept checking her over, eyes raking on the expressions she wear across the kitchen, to the living room and to the balcony. She wanted so badly to ask what was wrong, her inside a raging bull that kept pushing her to be there for her...wife.

Before she could even go deep inside her thoughts, the sound of the sliding door filled the air and she quickly looked down to what she was cooking. she was cooking, heavy footsteps was what it was followed, then those deep heavy sighs she's starting to get familiar with. She's stressed. Natasha is stressed.

"Are you-" She started, not even getting the chance to talk before Natasha's dominant voice went straight to her ears.

"I'm going out. Don't wait up for me. I just need to deal with something." Natasha's footsteps did not falter, not even a bit as she passed through the kitchen, leaving Y/n alone and confused, her heart and mind fighting wether should she check on the redhead or not.

This is the first time she witnessed the redhead so stressed—the first time witnessed Natasha going out to do something without even knowing what it is. Usually, there would be a follow up reason, a short explanation from Natasha without even asking. Now, she just acted so...weird. There wasn't much evidence that Y/n saw from how she just acted, but Y/n could feel it.

What happened?

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Back at the penthouse, silence enveloped the whole atmosphere as Y/n fixed the food inside the microwave, deciding to wait up for Natasha so that they could eat together. Surely, she won't be home late, right? She always gets home by dinner.

Deciding to spend her time waiting by the living room, turning on the TV to watch something. Her hand subconsciously going up to play with her ring finger, wondering when will the ceremony of their wedding will be. Her mind fantasizing how beautiful the even might be, her younger self's dreams might finally happen in just a few days.

Her mind flooded with questions. Will my parents be there? Will Lucy gonna be there? Tamtam? Her heart fluttering in excitement at the thought of the two latter. She don't know how the wedding will go, all she knows is that this is all about something between Natasha's parents and her's. But, it's a wedding, a special event, a matrimony, it has to mean something more than just a business plan, right? Right.

Even though she still has mixed feelings about her unknown relationship with Natasha, she kept learning on how to love her, that what a wife does, right? That's what they should do.

Clad in her usual clothing, leggings and a domesticated sweater with her hair up in a ponytail and strands of hair falling to the sides of her face. Her attention was swarmed by the announcement spoken by the reporter on the television.

"Stark's industry has once again published a new electronic device, setting a standardized testing all over the countries, even in Asia. But, nevertheless, we can see how Romanoff corporation is still on top of the business. Electronics, weaponry, and services for the people and the government...." A small smile made its way on her face, her heart beats with pride. She was proud. She took a mental note to congratulate the red head later, maybe that's where Natasha was going. To discuss about this, this should be something to be celebrated.

Her gaze averted down to her arm, where the sleeves of her sweater was slightly ridden up. There was a vivid bruising, already healing. Caressing it, her eyes fell into a solemn look, thinking of home. Tammy, Lucy. She just hopes they're doing good. Her parents would call her, asking how she is, spending only a minute to talk to her before the conversation is averted about Natasha.

Pulling up the sweater to check on her other bruises, she saw how the others are still visible in the eyes close-up. She hopes it will be gone soon, people might think weird of her once they notice how she only wears a sweater and cover-ups.

Too lost in her thoughts, she did not notice the ninja-like footsteps getting near her. "Y/n?..." She jumped up at the sound, looking up to see Maria with a certain look on her face, her eyes glazing over the arm that was set in front of her. "Are you okay? What happened?" Looking down, Y/n realized that the sleeves was still ridden up.

Quickly pulling it down, she stood up. "Maria! I didn't- I didn't hear you... Why are you here?" Y/n mentally slalpped herself, sounding so nervous and maybe even mean. Fiddling the hem of her sleeves, she continued, "Have you eaten already? I cooked something... I-I'm just waiting for Natalia to come home, she left earlier, by the way-just incase you're looking for her..." She trailed off, not knowing what to say anymore.

Maria's gaze stayed for a while on Y/n's covered arms that was visible a while ago. She saw it. Bruises littered on her body is what her life is all about in this business, and she can't be mistaken if she saw one. She saw the stiff shoulder of Y/n and what seemed like a tensed body, clearly having a good read that it is not something she would be open into talking about. But to Natasha, she will for sure ask about it. There's no way Natasha's hurting her?

"Yeah- no, I mean, I was just gonna pass by to bring these papers to Natasha..." Briefly holding up a briefcase in hand, Maria's gaze averted to look back into Y/n's face. "She's been spending work times here, I told her I'd just give this to her and she agreed—where is she, by the way? Did she say anything about where she was going?" Maria asked as she put the suitcase on the coffee table and sat on the couch.

Y/n stayed standing up, "Uhm... no, she left in a hurry... and she also seemed stress." Silence enveloped the atmosphere around them, Maria seemed to be in a very deep thought as her gaze glued on the television while Y/n shifted on where she was standing.

"Would you— would you like to eat, Ria?" Maria look back at the young girl, smiling at the sound of the new nickname she earned.

"What do you have there?" Standing up, they both walked towards the kitchen.

"I cooked salmon! I also did some vegetables salads, if you would like I can make you some juices." Setting up a plate, Maria frowned.

"Aren't you gonna eat too? Did you eat already?" Sitting down, she muttered a small thank you when a glass of water was set in front of her.

"No, don't worry about me. I'll wait for Natalia..." Maria's eyes squinted a little as she looked at Y/n who was taking out the food from the oven.

"Why do you keep calling her Natalia?" Maria blurted out and Y/n frowned, her movements faltering as she turned to look at Maria.

"Isn't that her name?" She questioned.

With a chuckle, Maria took a sip on her water as the food was set in front of her. "No, yeah, it is, it is. She hates that name, do you know that? We all call her Natasha." Maria explained, amusement sparking in her voice.

With a deeper frown, Y/n sat down beside her, after setting all the food that is available in front of the raven haired woman. "She hates it? Really?" With a blown confused voice, she asked. "It's just... it was what I used to call her... before. From as far as I can remember."

"Yeah... but, doesn't seem like it when you're that one calling her that..." Maria took a bit of the delicious food, just as she was about to take a second bite, her movements faltered. "Wait... before?" Looking at Y/n who was looking ahead into a space, seemingly lost in her thoughts with a faint blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"Yeah... when we were kids. She used to come in our house with her parents, but I remember only very little." She explained, looking at Maria with a small smile on her face. "Why?" Seeing the distant look on Maria's face, she asked curiously.

A blip of silence came over, the gears running inside of Maria's head seemed to be heard by the girl beside her before she clears her throat slowly. "Urhm... no, nothing. Just curious, that's all—This is so good, by the way. Might eat it all if only Natasha would not kill me." Giggling, Y/n shook her head.

"I can cook you another?" Warmth spreading in her chest, she thought how Natasha got so lucky.

"No, no, don't bother, this is all good." With a nod, Y/n settled beside Maria, conversation thrown at each other like a normal friends would do.

Y/n could only hope Natalia is fine and will come home sooner.

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3rd Person's POV:

Hours passed by and the both of them had settled by the living room, with Maria deciding to stay for a couple of more hours and Y/n now falling asleep on the couch.

Averting her gaze from the television to the young woman who had her head on her knuckles while the other hand cuddled a pillow on her lap. Maria looked down on her phone, all of her messages from Natasha popped up immediately with no reply in sight. Sighing she got up to get herself a glass of water, deciding to stay a few more minutes before heading off.

As she was pouring herself a glass of water, a sheets of colored papers along with some art materials caught her eyes. Flower papers. The same ones she saw on Natasha's glovebox. The same one she also saw on Natasha's room yesterday.

Huh. Smirking, she shook her head before the sound of the door caught her attention. It might be Natasha. Deciding to stay in the kitchen as those familiar quiet footsteps reached her ears. From where she was standing, she could still clearly see where Y/n was laying on the couch but she's not visible for anyone to see if the person walking inside will go straight in the living room.

She watched as the familar form of a red haired woman with a dominant aura walked slowly with careful steps that Maria is not familiar with approach the young woman. With furrowed eyebrows, curiosity filled her body as she watched Natasha stand still, her figure looming over the girl, just watching over her.

Slowly, a sly smirk made its way on her face as she decided to step little by little closer to the living room, coming into a view where she can see Natasha's face clearly.

There was a certain look in Natasha's face that she could not pinpoint. A certain look she'd never seen before. Now, with a frown, she thought how could Natasha not notice another presence with them? With her eyes soft and tensed at the same time, analyzing the small figure by the couch, she decided to get her attention.

"Natasha..." With an uncertainty in her voice, she called out.

Head whipping around, shoulder becoming tensed as her features falter, Natasha replied, "Maria..." Clearing her throat, she straighten up, turning on her heels and walked towards the kitchen, her eyes trailing towards the art materials present on the table. "What are you doing here?"

Watching as Natasha opened up the fridge but just stared. "I got you the files. Where did you went?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you not to come anymore. I'll be going back at the mansion." Closing the fridge, she went to sit on one of the stools, now looking straight into Maria's eyes, not caring how she ignored the second question.

Frowning, she asked, "What? What about Y/n?"

Natasha shrugged, "What about her? I mean, she's doing fine here...I can just check on her—you guys can check on her from time to time." Taking a sip on the beer she got from the fridge, she averted her gaze to look by the living room, her gaze immediately falling down on the young woman laying on the couch.

With a still frown, Maria couldn't help but notice how the atmosphere had shifted, now taking notice that there was something up with her friend. She know her too well not to notice it, but seeing how tensed Natasha was, she chose not to question. Questions that are already piling up after the things she had witnessed and learned today.

"Well, then, I should go now. The files are by the living room..." Turning, Maria gathered her things she left on the kitchen counter earlier.

"Thank you, Maria." Natasha said with a monotone, acknowledging the effort that was made by the woman.

With a nod, Maria walked towards the exit, but her movements faltering as she turned her head to look at Natasha who was still looking ahead. "She cooked for you..." Even with her face in a stone cold feature, Maria could see right through her. "She was waiting for you to come back."

Receiving no reply, Maria headed off, leaving Natasha in her own bubble that seemed to be going off in any moment.

As soon as the sound of the door closing in, she swallowed a heavy lump that formed in her throat, her facade falling into pieces as she took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she let it out.

As soon as she opened it, she saw a movement by the living room. Taking a large swig of the beer, she watched as the figure took notice of her presence. Those eyes that haunted her in her sleep, the same ones she craved as soon as she wakes up. Natasha made no effort in resolving her facade, watching as the young woman marched forward in the kitchen, strands of hair falling into place as she took careful steps just like what she always do, as if worrying that she might trip.

Natasha learned all her habits, the way she would tuck her hair behind her ear, how she would fiddle the ends of her sleeve as she tried to cover up her hands as if she was not covered enough with those sweaters and cardigans along with leggings and pants that seemed to be countless. The way her eyes would move everywhere when she's nervous and couldn't seemed to hold an eye contact. Many more she could not even begin to explain, and many more she could not stop thinking about.

She was held captive, and she knows it. Especially, after tonight. It was a hard pill to swallow, finally realizing that she was capable of doing something she grew up thinking she was not able to do so.

"You're home." Home. Natasha's gaze felt like she was burning holes into Y/n's eyes. "Do you wanna eat? Wait, let me just reheat it. Maria was here earlier, she got your files by the living room—oh, I also made a dessert for us, thankfully Maria did not see it inside the fridge, she would eat it all for sure." A giggle passed her soft lips, even though she was not in Natasha's view, the red head could see the smile she wanted so badly to keep from the world and own it to herself.

So that she could only see it.

So that she could only smile for her.

She was not supposed to feel like this, and that was what makes it more a bitter thing to taste.

"She's just simply the paper in between their business, Natasha. After the marriage, you and I both know she's nothing to father..."

Her facade hardened at the voice of her sister from earlier, receiving the truthful message that made everything clear for her.

She was not supposed to feel like this because that smile was never meant to be hers.

She has a mission to do, a mission for herself.

"...and you and I both know she means nothing to you..."

Standing up, everything seemed to be closing in around her. Gulping down the beer while her eyes strayed away from the one's who's trying to catch it with a confused and worrying gaze.

"I'm not hungry. You should also clean that mess up... can't have my house piling up with childish things." Pointing briefly on the art material she knew clearly well was meant to be given to her.

She was met with silence, and it was almost deafening. Walking away, her insides screamed to her the giggle earlier, craving to hear her voice filling up the air as she bid her goodnight.

Once again, a lump started to form in her throat, but this time, she can't find the strength to swallow.

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Author's note: Hope you liked it! I tried my best, really ಠ⁠︵⁠ಠ I'll do better on the next one! More angst piling up in the corner, I know this seemed to be in a rush but I promise to give more on the next ones! Many peeps keeps on messaging me and piling up my asks so I just did what I can do at the moment ಠ⁠ ⁠೧⁠ ⁠ಠ thank you for reading, until next time!

[remiratboi]

Float

Yandere!G/NTentacleMonsterXG/NFatReader

CW: Near death, drowning, grief, loss of family to car accident (mentioned, not explicit), monster fucking, noncon that turns to dubcon, stalking, yandere, tentacles, obsession, ovipositor, breeding, oviposition, anal, insertion, maybe Stockholm Syndrome?

The waves lapped at your edges. The sky above you was overcast and threatening to rain. You gazed up from where you floated on the water. It was serene and peaceful.

You loved this lake. Every summer you and your family had spent their summers at this lake, in their vacation cabin. It was just up the beach a short ways. Now, you’re an adult, and your family is gone. This cabin became your haven.

For a few years after the incident, you tried keeping up a job, but your heart wasn’t in it anymore. You sold everything you owned, took that and your inheritance, and moved permanently to the little two bedroom cabin.

It was secluded and only a few other families had homes here. You were the only one who lived here year round.

It was for those reasons you regularly felt comfortable enough to wade into the waters, naked. It was freeing. Being in nature, no restrictions, just floating. You felt like you were one with the soft waves.

Scattered droplets of rain plunked into the water around you. It was soft and slow. You knew you should head to shore. The clouds threatened worse than some rain. It would be just like you to get electrocuted in the middle of nowhere. You rolled your eyes at yourself.

5 more minutes, you thought. If the rain got a lot worse, you’d go quicker. But you loved these moments. The sky darkening by the second, rain falling around you. Totally isolated and at peace.

You shouldn’t have waited those meaningless 5 more minutes.

It started with a light brush on your ankle. You wrote it off as weeds or a small fish. When something wrapped around your calf, though, it was harder to ignore.

You splashed in the water, trying to jerk your leg away. Whatever was holding it, held tight. A cold panic ran through your body. This was a small, very inland, fresh water lake. Nothing here should be able to grip you the way this thing was. Your analytical brain ran through a hundred different possibilities while you thrashed.

You tried swimming anyway, but very quickly found yourself turned around as the storm raised the waves higher. Tears rolled down your face. You gripped the… thing on your leg and tried to wrench it off. It held tight. It felt like flesh, something pulsed. It seemed content to just hold your leg, and soon it became the least of your worries.

Waves crashed around you, pushing you under. You fought against the pressure, gasping breaths when you could. Lightning flashed in the sky. Close, too close.

A part you relaxed when you consciously realized you were going to die. You had been fighting for so long. Desperately trying to live and function. But your mental health had been bad long before your entire family died in a tragic car accident. At this point, you were shocked to realize, you almost welcomed death. Well, not death so much, as silence. No longer listening to the voices in your head. No longer missing those you’d lost. While you didn’t desire death, you found it didn’t upset you as much as you’d expected.

Another flash of lighting. The sky was almost black now. Your chest was full of water, and your muscles burned. You didn’t want to fight anymore.

You closed your eyes and stilled your limbs. The waves pushed you down immediately. Your chest burned as you tried not to breathe in the water, but soon you couldn’t help yourself. You gasped and water rushed in. It was more painful than you’d expected. You opened your eyes and gazed up at the surface of the water. You could see its movements, but it felt like it was a thousand miles away.

Some part of your brain registered that the thing holding your leg tightened. The water around you started moving faster. Your vision started to fade and you tried to focus on all the happiest moments of your life. Thinking grew harder until all you could picture was your favourite family photo from a few christmases ago. Their smiling faces brought you comfort as the world slipped away.

*********

You were wrenched back to life and heaved water from your lungs. You sat up, coughing, tears streaming down your face. You were freezing. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust, but you found yourself on a smooth, damp stone in what appeared to be a cave. The water was black and inky next to you.

You sat naked, and shivering. Where were you? Was this death?

“Why are you so sad?” A smooth voice rung out, startling you. You couldn’t identify where it came from as it bounced off the cave walls. It seemed to have some light accent to it. The way the words were said felt overly enunciated and clipped.

You gathered your knees to your chest and tried to cover your body. You couldn’t help a shiver roll through you.

“Please, why are you so sad?” The voice asked again. You thought it came from the water.

“Wh… who are you?” You stuttered out.

“Rav” the voice replied.

“Rav? Is that your name?” You asked.

“Name.” The voiced seemed to play with the word. “Rav is me. Who are you?”

“Um, Rav, where are we?” You ignored their question.

“Near home.” Rav answered. You thought you could make out an area of water that didn’t behave like the rest.

“Near my home?” You moved your head to the side to try to catch a different angle of the creature.

“My home.” Rav answered. You nodded to yourself.

“Can you come closer?” The fear almost stopped you from asking. Rav didn’t answer for a moment, but then you saw the water ripple.

Slowly they came into your view. You didn’t even know what to call them. Creature seemed accurate. They had a humanoid head, but their skin was as black as the water. They had large all black eyes and no nose. Their lips looked human, but the gills on their neck told you they didn’t need a mouth to breathe.

“Hi.” You said, then chuckled at yourself. What a ridiculous thing to say in a ridiculous situation.

“Hello.” Rav replied. They continued up the rock and emerged from the water. Their body far surpassed their head in strangeness. They had limbs similar to arms and legs, but they were long, thick tentacles. They had several smaller tentacles along their torso. These seemed to move of their own will, squirming and writhing. Rav walked… slithered? You weren’t sure, up the rock towards you. They were also naked, but didn’t seem to share human anatomy.

“Will you take me home?” You looked up into their black eyes above you. Rav looked down at you with what you thought to be an amused smile.

“Home not safe for you. Deep.” You thought that they didn’t have any problems with speech, but their knowledge seemed to be limited.

“My home.” You clarified. Rav shook their head.

“You are so sad at home.” You laughed self deprecatingly at their words.

“It’s not about the home. I’m just sad.”

“Rav make you happy.” They said and held out a hand… tentacle.

“Uh, thank you, but I am quite happy on my own.” You didn’t take their tentacle.

“You killed yourself.” Rav stated, unconvinced.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean to. It was an accident.” You forced a wide, fake smile. Rav didn’t seem to believe you.

“You cry often.” Rav shook their head sadly. “Rav can’t watch anymore.”

Watch?!

“Yeah, I… uh I lost some people I love, and it’s been hard. But I’m ok, really. It’s part of moving on.” You hesitantly reached out and patted their still extended tentacle.

“Rav will help you.” They answered, and smiled a strange, eerie smile at you. You guessed they were trying to imitate yours. “Rav has loved you for a long time.”

Loved?!

“You don’t know me?” You started feeling uneasy and tried scooting back on the rock. You became very aware of your nakedness.

“Rav does know you. Rav has watched you for many years. You are always so sad, and Rav can fix that. Rav can love you, can make you feel good.” They stepped forward, claiming back the space you’d put between you.

“Th-thank you for saving me, now please take me home, I want to go home.” You pushed further until a hard wall pressed against your back. Rav continued stepping forward.

“No. Rav can… I can show you.” They spoke slowly. You had to credit how fast they seemed to learn, but that didn’t stop you from cowering at their feet.

You felt something slide up your leg again and you thrashed, trying to escape. It was like blood in the water and with your movement, suddenly their tentacles were everywhere. Your arms were quickly gripped and pulled straight out. Your legs unbent and spread also. In a flash, you were spread eagle in the air, hanging just above Rav, trapped by their tentacles. Tears ran down your face again. It wasn’t hard to guess what they meant by “make you feel good”.

More tentacles joined the others, seemingly unending. They ran over your bare cunt. You were ashamed that in that moment, you thought about how long it had been since you’d been fucked. A part of you almost wanted this. You were so lonely. And Rav was right, you were so sad. You tried snapping yourself out of it.

One tentacle sucked onto your clit and pulsed. You couldn’t help the cry of surprise that ripped itself from your lips. This just seemed to fuel the creature in front of you. They plunged a thick tentacle into your cunt, in one deep thrust. You cried out half in pain and half in pleasure.

Rav didn’t seem to have much experience, but what they lacked, they made up for in sheer number of appendages. They seemed desperate, tentacles roaming over every inch of your body. Each noise, movement, or reaction from you made them repeat the action that had elicited it. They played with your nipples and clit. Those seemed to pull the best reactions from you.

Another tentacle pushed against your ass, and before you could even gargle out a plea, it plunged just as deep as the one in your cunt. You moaned loudly. Two thick tentacles rested inside you. The sucker on your clit continued pulsing. A new tentacle circled your throat and rested near your lips. Rav seemed to understand you needed to breathe, but it played with your lips, pushing in slightly, exploring.

After a while of this, you started feeling desperate yourself. Rav was playing with you. Their tentacles stayed still inside you, the one on your clit pushing you along, but never tipping you over the edge.

You squirmed, trying desperately to deny your desire. You didn’t want this. You wouldn’t beg. They would get bored eventually. Right?

“Please.” you felt yourself mutter.

“Please?” Rav replied in a questioning tone.

“Please ma-make me cum.” So much for not begging.

“Cum?” They questioned again.

“M-move them.” You stuttered out. You ground your hips into the tentacles for emphasis. Rav looked from your face to your cunt, confused. It seemed to dawn on them what you wanted as you pushed yourself against their tentacles.

Rav thrust the two even deeper inside you. You let out a mangled cry and your vision was full of speckles.

“Too deep!” You cried. Rav pulled the tentacles back out, almost leaving your body all together. Then they thrust them back in, but only to about where they had them the first time. You moaned loudly and leaned your head back. Now they understood.

Rav started pushing the two thick tentacles in and out of you at a wicked pace. You practically screamed and writhed on them. After a long time of being kept on edge, your orgasm crashed through you almost instantly. You squeezed your eyes shut. Rav didn’t stop pounding into you.

Their pace didn’t falter. You felt so full. Two, thick, long tentacles curled deep inside you. You could feel the suckers along them pulling at your insides. It was incredible and bizarre. It wasn’t long until a second orgasm ripped through you.

“You’re ready.” Rav said, focus solely on your dripping cunt.

“Wha…” you tried to ask, but your brain was starting to feel like mush. You felt like you were floating again.

The tentacle in your cunt withdrew, while the other stayed, but slowed down. It lazily moved in and out of you. Something new pressed against your cunt and you gathered your strength to pull your head up. A slit had opened on Rav’s lower half and a thick, very bulbous tentacle had emerged. It pressed against you. It was wider than the other, but not by much, and your cunt was dripping. Your fat pussy lips embraced the tip of whatever this was.

Rav groaned as they slowly pushed the new tentacle into you. It settled against your cervix. They didn’t move this one. You watched as something glowing could be seen moving from their body, through the tentacle. It was slightly larger than the tentacle, and made a round imprint as it moved. You froze.

“Wait-” you started. You tried, in vain, to wiggle away. Rav tightened their grip.

The thing moved out of your view and you felt it inside you. Soon it was pressing against your cervix. You cried out and sobbed. The pain was incredible. You tried frantically to squirm away, but it was no use. You felt the thing push through and enter your deepest parts.

To your horror, another glowing egg started travelling towards your pussy. And another. Soon the tentacle was full of them. You begged with incoherent words. It was no use.

Egg after egg pushed into you. Your stomach bulged with them. A faint glow shone through your skin. You blacked out at one point, and were awoken by a painful orgasm. It burned, and fuelled you. You started enjoying the feeling of the eggs slip into you. You had never felt so full before.

Finally, stomach tight and glowing, Rav pulled out of you. They lowered you and pressed you against their body. Something like a coo came out of their mouth and they looked down at you with what couldn’t be mistaken for anything but complete adoration.

“You did very good.” They comforted. You found yourself blushing and hiding your face against their chest. For some reason you felt safe. Some part of you recognized that was insane, but you had been alone, so truly, bitterly alone for so long. Years. Was it really so bad to let this creature comfort you?

*********

In the weeks that followed, Rav returned you to your home. They couldn’t be out of water for long, but they spent as much time as they could with you. You’d sit in the bathroom and read to them while they sat in the tub. As it turns out, they were incredibly intelligent, and wildly curious. They had an innocence you had never experienced.

They were clever too. Witty as all hell, and kind. As your stomach grew, so did your feelings. As crazy as it was, you fell in love with this creature. They were also alone. Their family didn’t seem to work the way humans did. They didn’t stay, they weren’t raised. They were laid and left. But Rav had spent their childhood watching you and your family. They wanted something different.

Somehow, in the strangest way, you had both found a new family. You were, finally, happy.

[veryveryvomit]

Hilda is pregnant, living in a cold tent with 10 people in gaza. They need money for necessities and for evacuation. You can help her by sharing this post and donating.

Donate here

Vetted here

Please do whatever you can to save my friend!

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Another thought on this, you know what would also be funny? If Arthur, Merlin, and the knights, while on a quest, came across a colony of trolls living in a cave.

Of course, they all prepare to be attacked by the angry trolls, but then one troll barks out in a gravelly voice, "Wait, isn't that human with the gold sword Grolda's stepson?"

The trolls pause and look at Arthur, and they start murmuring amongst themselves, while Arthur, Merlin, and the knights all glance at each other, very confused, but they begin to creep back towards the exit while the trolls are distracted by whatever they're talking about.

Before they can make it to the exit and escape though, the trolls turn back to them with grotesque smiles on their faces. Suddenly, one of the trolls started speaking to Arthur, who had to resist the urge to violently flinch backwards at the smell of its breath.

"Well, we had heard that that old wench had gone and disguised herself as some ugly princess to trick the king of Camelot into marrying her, but none of us thought she'd ever get away with it! It turns out you humans are a bit thicker in the head than you think! Never thought we'd be seeing you around these parts though!"

Arthur and Merlin both take sharp inhales at that, realizing now that these trolls must have known the one that pretended to be Catrina and infiltrated Camelot.

The group of trolls then starts to crowd around the group of humans, putting them on the defensive. The trolls push them back, further into the cave and towards a long slab of rock that looked like it was being used as a long feasting table, if the rotten fruit and meat piled up on it was any indication.

Arthur's anxiety increased with each step back he was forced to take. Were these trolls aiming to avenge their friend? Oh god, were the trolls looking to make a meal out of them?!

Arthur swung his sword at the troll in front of him with all his might, fueled by fear and desperation. He couldn't meet his end at the hands of these disgusting creatures!

To Arthur's horror though, the beast simply caught his arm in an inhumanly strong grip and laughed, his breath somehow smelling even worse than before.

"You've got some fight in ya! I'm sure you'll fit right in, but that still no way to greet family!"

Arthur lowered his arm, confusion somehow overpowering his fear. "Family?" His tone was filled with disgust, confusion, and sheer disbelief.

The troll grinned at him again, this time slinging a grimy arm over Arthur's shoulders.

"Of course! I should introduce myself. The name's Bronk, and I'm your step-uncle!"

(Merlin almost couldn't stop himself from laughing hysterically, but he managed to barely stifle his laughs.)

And that's how Arthur found himself, dumbfounded, sitting with Merlin and the knights at a feasting table filled with rotten food, listening to his new "extended family" introduce themselves and discuss all the best ways to introduce him to the troll lifestyle.

The trolls all tolerated the knights, but funnily enough, they seemed to be enjoying Merlin's company, laughing at the stories that the manservant was telling them. At Arthur's questioning look, Merlin shrugs and says "It's not that different from sitting with the knights during feasts. They have all the same manners anyways, and at least the trolls don't demand me to fetch them more mead."

And that's how Arthur got forcefully adopted by his troll stepfamily! :D

(also @sugar-coated-prat-dragon, since I promised you something fluffy! <3)

You know what's one thing I'm disappointed we never got in Merlin? After the troll episodes, the entire event was never brought up again!

I mean, I understand if the people of Camelot would rather forget about the whole thing, but Arthur had a troll for a stepmother for like a week and Merlin never teased him about it later on?!

I would really like to write a fic or au some day set in the Golden Age where it's discovered that dragonlords got their powers from being descended from ancient powerful dragons that shapeshifted in humans and had half-human children.

And Arthur's reaction is to turn to Merlin and go "So what you're telling me is that one of your ancestors was deranged enough to sleep with a dragon? That certainly confirms my theory that your insanity is passed down through your blood."

And of course Merlin immediately fires back, "And remind me Sire, which of our family trees includes a troll?"

Arthur sputters for a moment before shouting that that doesn't count, she enchanted his father and the whole thing was a trick, before Geoffrey pipes up and says, "Actually sire, as it was an official wedding, Queen Catrina the Troll was officially added to the Pendragon family tree. And as the marriage was never formally annulled before her death, she cannot be removed from the record."

Arthur's left horrified by this, while Merlin's laughing his ass off.

I just think a scene like that would be neat!

[iasirene]

I feel like a lot of fans don't like Sejanus because of the capitalist propaganda that's all around us. Now hear me out! Sejanus's family has money, a lot of it. So much that they were able to buy their way into the Capitol even though they were from the Districts. There is no denying that Sejanus grew up privileged and comfortable- and yet he STILL sees the cracks and injustice in the system that he lives under. He is a class traitor in the best way possible. Many people, including some fans of the Hunger Games, hold onto the belief that if you are wealthy and you fight for injustice, you're a hypocrite. "You're rich and can do whatever you want, you don't understand anything about the struggle." And while that can be a valid thing to express, it is also a reactionary tactic used to divide the people. Being a leftist doesn't mean you don't have or use nice things, it means you don't want those nice things only being available to the top 1%. But back to Sejanus. I've seen some fans express that he could have used his wealth to reform the system from the inside, and while I can understand the sentiment, in a fascist government like Panem, reforming it is downright impossible. Fascism is not a system you can reform, it is something that needs to be rooted up and destroyed.

Snow, the boy who grew up during the rebellion poor and hungry, who saw and lived through the struggle, chose revenge and retaliation. Sejanus, the privileged boy with the soulful brown eyes, chose empathy and compassion.

[space-blue]

Disappointed in the Vander backstory

I fully expected that it was coming, but I'm disappointed in the timeline all the same.

The "Vander got upset because a fight against Piltover Silco instigated killed the woman he loved" was literally my first draft for my longfic Fathers and Daughters, and I ended up scrapping it because I felt it was too cheap and wouldn't justify the violence of his actions against Silco.

"When she died I lost my head" he says in the letter.

But when she died you actually dropped your gauntlets and picked up the girls and everyone has been assuming this was the moment you swore off violence...

The fact she goes on to let Vander name her kid, and seems to be thick as thieves with them, and ALSO tells them of the pregnancy before she builds up the courage to tell her partner... Tells me that surely... SURELY by the time Vi is 10-11, whatever she is on the bridge in season 1, she would KNOW SILCO as her mom's bestie, no??? Not just Vander.

It feels like this entire angle is pulled under the rug to simplify the conflict in act 1.

I do appreciate being right on the money with Silco knowing and being friends with the mom, and having known Vi as a baby. I think it makes sense, especially if he was an important community leader.

I just hate her death being the catalyst of Vander's actions against Silco. It means that the timeline actually like this:

Mom-Silco-Vander are best friends. Silco is "Bozo 1" and has been leading the transformation of the Lanes with Vander's help. He's already planning his nation of Zaun. His notebook is literally saying "NZ" for Nation of Zaun.

At an ONGOING confrontation with enforcers, Silco throws a molotov cocktails that doesn't seem to even kill an enforcer (Powder and her innefectual bombs parallel? The entire scene is intercut with the monkey bomb clapping so... The scene leading to a friend's death also parallels the events of Jinx's birth.)

As the smoke clears/the POV looks down, we have the reveal that the girls' Mom is dead.

Vander admits the blood was on his hands as well, meaning he either started this confrontation with Silco, or fought just as badly/increased the violence (and we see him murder enforcers later on). Anyway he admits to carrying the blame, and apologized in person to Silco for the dubbed "betrayal".

Then he went home, shaved, dragged Silco into the Pilt, and tried to drown him *because their common friend died at the failed uprising*.

He's then haunted, seemingly, by visions of Silco being dead:

To me it's sort of weaker and sadder, as it establishes Vander as someone more flawed and less ruthless. It's not that he wanted the Lanes, it's not that Silco was getting in the way of what he wanted.

Vander was out there happy with everything they were dishing out, right until their actions cost the life of a friend, and he broke, emotionally, and BLAMED it on Silco, going so far as to kill him (or try).

He surrendered his gauntlets, picked the children up, tucked them in at home, shaved (I cannot stress this enough), then took Silco into the fucking river and brutally attempted to murder him.

Then he massively regretted it and left little breadcrumbs of apologies in case Silco found them and returned to him.

So, canon couple, first off lol

Fellas, is it gay to hang your jackets inside each other's in your secret hideout? Is it gay that all your core hidden memories begin with your mate smiling at you?

Yes, yes it is. Zaundad is canon and I'm not taking commentary.

Secondly, that means Vander was an emotional ticking time bomb who wasn't ready for the price to sacrifice in order to gain their freedom. I really wonder what the alternative reality would have been like, were Silco the one dying on that bridge.

Anyway, it brings some twisted sadness to the situation, because the mom wanted Zaun "no matter what" for Vi's sake, her child's future. But Vander decided that lives weren't worth spilling over that dream and tried to kill Silco over it, before teaming up with Grayson to continue enforcing a status quo.

So that means that Silco, even as he raises Jinx, is continuing her mother's dream, of building Zaun, a country that's safe for her children, "no matter what".

But very sadly the show also acts like Silco doesn't know the kids, and like the kids don't know him. Powder, sure, but Vi not knowing Silco is just downright stupid. Not even knowing him by name? When her mom was out fighting alongside him??? The mom is ALSO a miner, very clearly working with Silco and Vander, alongside the nameless poor husband.

I feel like this doesn't really solve the issues that were already raised when we speculated about act 1. It just clarifies that Vander was truly, willfully a force of oppression inside the fissures, working against the revolution necessary for Zaun becoming possible.

But it implies Silco didn't recognise Powder and Vi, and that Vi didn't recognise him or understand how he knew Vander. It's a disservice to the story, because that tie, that old bond, could really have worked to dramatize the sacrifices Silco is ready to make, as well as the depth of Vi's hatred for him.

But the show acts like they're strangers and that Vander's death is the core beef between them until Jinx enters the picture.

And then there's the Benzo scene, when Vander holds his wound from Silco's knife, and says "we both know there's worse than enforcers out there" WHO ARE YOU FUCKING TALKING ABOUT??? Yourself? You seem to be the worst thing around here! It seems clear he knew Silco was alive but had nothing to blame him for by then.

I'm left with holes that take the shape of "shock value" and "plot twist".

"Ooooh Silco knew the mom, twiiiist, but please don't think about the implications, because we wrote season 1 without taking this in consideration."

Feels like another job for fic writers, but IDK if I have the strength for it. I just like my own version better.

At least now we know that Silco did not IN FACT DO anything to "deserve" what he got. I'm sorry, but throwing a molotov at enforcers when fighting for your freedom is based and Vander was dishing death right there next to him.

The base violence necessary for change, eh? Vander just delayed the price being paid for Zaun's creation.

[rablovergirl]

Hi hii is bartylus on the table? I am ready to consume any crumbs you give🧎

bartylus is most definitely on the table!!!

Barty and Reg are absolutely completely obsessed with each other, they can't be normal around each other. Regulus is much more submissive with barty than anyone else, he's a brat ofc but he does eventually do what he's told.

They go at it for hours, they have no concept of a quickie. Barty will open regulus up until he's crying and begging (which takes a while), usually as a form of punishment for breaking a rule, and then bend regulus in half with his legs over his shoulders and tease his cock over his hole until he apologises for not doing as he's told.

they love having sex while they're stoned. they'll be at a party in a corner high off their heads, regulus in barty's lap, when barty starts trailing kisses down reg's neck. "do have any idea how sexy you are darling?" Of course regulus knows, but barty loves to remind him. And so hickeys turn into them kissing like they need it to live and that turns into either barty leading regulus to an empty bedroom or regulus sitting on his cock right then and there thinking no one will notice it.

When they fight, they fight hard. they're both very jealous ppl so one wrong look at another person might set the other one off. So they fight, scream and yell (regulus is prone to throwing things) and then go to separate rooms. It's usually regulus that comes to barty first, not to talk about it but to get his way.

"Barty? are you still mad, baby?" And he'll sink to his knees in front of barty, who is sitting on the bed, and look up at him through his lashes. "Don't be mad, let me make it up to you. I'll do whatever you want. You don't want to be mad, I know you don't. Not when I let you fuck me so well." They both know he's bullshitting his way through it but it doesn't matter, barty let's him suck his cock anyway, he'll punish him later.

ty for the ask <3