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upat4amwiththemoon · 1 year ago

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The stars

Summary: I see my lover when I look at the stars.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x female!reader

Warnings: sexism, men, it’s the 80s, some angst

Word count: 3902

a/n: second chance romance trope, I’m so happy with this you guys!!

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

1985

Pancho’s bar wasn’t the fanciest place to work at as a young woman, especially because most of the customers are men from the air force. Their favorite past time besides drinking is trying to seduce Y/N, and get her number. But she isn’t interested in them, and never will be, though that’s something she’ll keep to herself. At least the constant flirting leads to good tips, which will eventually help her get out of the bar.

Y/N dries a glass with a rag now that she has some downtime. The rush time will start soon, so she wants to prepare for it to the best of her abilities. There are few regulars sitting either at a table or by the bar, but she knows they’ll let her know if they need anything, otherwise they like to quietly drink to their sorrows.

When the bell by the door rings, Y/N quickly glances at the new customers way, she only sees the air force logo on their clothes, making her roll her eyes. They’re out early today. She sets the cleans classes to their places and washes her hands, taking a deep breath, she gets ready for the onslaught of vulgar words.

“Hey, could we get two beers?”

Her head snaps up when she hears the feminine voice. Two women are standing in front of her with the air force clothes on and friendly smiles on their faces. Y/N stares at them with wide eyes for a moment. Sure every now and then women wonder into the bar, but she has never seen air force women come in.

Y/N regains her composure and grabs two beer glasses. “Sure thing! Which beers would you like?” Her customer service voice is cheery and slightly more high pitched than her normal one.

“Sierra Nevada, please.”

“Coming right up.” As Y/N moves to the taps to pour the beers, the two women start whispering and throwing looks between each other. Without Y/N noticing, the blonde woman’s gaze moves to places her eyes shouldn’t go. “Here you go.” She sets the beers in front of them.

“Thanks,” the woman glances at Y/N’s name tag, “Y/N. I’m Carol.” She hands some bills to pay for both of the drinks. “And this is Maria.” Carol states when she gets nudged to her side by the other woman.

“Nice to meet you.” Y/N says, her voice slower as she tries to figure out her intentions. Carol’s tone is similar to the multiple men who like flirt with her, though more genuine sounding, but surely that’s not what she is doing with her. “Here’s your change.”

“Keep it.” Carol winks before she and Maria go over to a table and sit down, leaving flustered Y/N at the bar.

She pockets the tip and start rearranging the dishes, trying to occupy her mind from wandering to incredibly good looking Carol.

When the clock strikes midnight, the bar is already at full swing. People are dancing to the loud music coming from the jukebox, and occasional bursts of laughter can be heard from the tables full of men, drunk men.

Y/N has been moved from behind the bar to the floor, bringing back empty classes and taking people’s drink orders. Because the other workers are men, they believe having a woman on the floor is better for business.

“Hey, sweetheart!” A drunken air force soldier shouts from a table full of them. He is waving his hand around in a come here motion. With a sigh, Y/N puts on her best smile and makes her way over to their table. “How much for a pretty girl like you to sit with us?” He waves a wad of cash in the air, his mouth formed in a grin that show his teeth. The others are staring at the two like it’s the best entertainment they’ve ever seen.

“Unfortunately I don’t have time to sit with customers. Is there anything else I could get you?” She smiles, holding a tray under her arm. She wants out of the situation, not liking the feeling of all the men’s eyes on her.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart.” The way the man says sweetheart makes Y/N want to gag. “Aren’t you supposed to do anything the customer want, eh? Besides, girls love money, don’t they?”

“I have to go help other customers, let me know if you want more drinks or something to eat.”

As Y/N goes to walk away from the table, the man grabs her arm. “Well hold on a second,” he slurs his words, “I ain’t done with you yet.”

Huffing, she glares at the man. She’s starting to get annoyed. “Listen, mister, I’m working right now, and have to attend to other customers as well.” Her voice has lost its cheery tone. “So, let me go.”

“Ooh, feisty!” One of the other man at the table comments. It makes the other laugh loudly, and enrages Y/N. She is aware this is a man’s world, but she is not going to be their entertainer.

Before Y/N can retaliate, someone else steps in to her rescue. “Hey. She said to let her go.” Carol stands next to her with her back straightened and shoulders pulled back. “So let her go.” Her voice is low, and her eyes are cold. She looks like someone you don’t want to mess around with.

“Well look at you,” the man scoffs, “it’s the wannabe soldier.” He sneers.

“Let the lady go, I’m warning you.”

“Oh, you’re warning me?” He stands up, still holding onto Y/N’s arm. All the humor has left him. “And what are you going to do about it?” He stands slightly taller than Carol, but it doesn’t seem to deter her.

The tension between the two start to grow. Y/N stands there, frozen, keeping her eyes on Carol. She doesn’t want to deal with this right now, her shift is supposed to end soon.

Suddenly, Carol raises her fist, and punches the man square in the jaw. He stumbles backwards into the chair he was sitting in, finally letting go of Y/N. “You bitch!” He shouts, wiping blood away from his lip. He goes to stand up, but before the situation escalates any further, one of the other bar workers come to escort him out.

“You okay?” Carol turns to look at Y/N once the men are out of the bar.

“Yeah,” she rubs the spot the man was holding onto, “thanks for helping.” Her mouth grows into a small smile. “That was kinda amazing.”

Grinning, Carol shrugs. “I have a things for saving pretty ladies who happen to work at this bar.”

Y/N lets out a small laugh as she shakes her head. “Okay, superhero.” Her voice is playful, but she can feel her cheeks flushing. “I have to get back to work now.”

“When do you get off?” Carol follows Y/N around while she picks up empty glasses.

“In twenty minutes.”

“I’ll walk you home,” she states, “me and Maria, I mean. You shouldn’t walk alone this late at night.”

Y/N bites the inside of her cheek. She glances at Carol, feeling warmth rush over her body when she sees the hopeful look on her face. “Alright. I’ll see you in twenty.” Giving her a smile, she returns back behind the bar.

Carol has a huge grin on her face as she stares at Y/N work. “What did I miss?” Maria walks over to her, having been occupied by beating a man’s ass in pool.

“We’re walking her home.”

Maria glances at Y/N, and nudges Carol’s side with a smirk. “You like her.”

“Maybe.”

1987

The front door of Y/N’s small, crappy apartment slams shut as she comes home from her shift at Pancho’s bar. It’s late at night, Y/N is exhausted, and she is sweaty, and she just wants to fall asleep without worrying about anything.

She throws her keys somewhere on top of the dresser she has next to her front door, and kicks her work shoes out of her feet. “Jesus!” A shout leaves out of her mouth when she turns around. Carol is standing there with a sheepish smile and a bouquet of flowers. “You scared the crap out of me.” She mumbles, holding a hand on her racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry.” Carol sets the flowers next to Y/N’s key. “You gave me a key, so I wanted to surprise you. I didn’t remember you were working so late.” Her voice isn’t radiating the confidence it usually is. It’s softer and nervous.

The bouquet is big, it has more flowers Y/N has ever gotten before, and it’s wrapped with pink paper. “Thank you.” She smiles, picking up the bouquet and going to her so-called kitchen to put the flowers in a vase.

Carol follows her, staying close by, but still giving her space, she can see how tense Y/N’s body is. “Tough day at work?”

“Something like that.”

It turns quiet while Y/N fills a vase with water from the tap. The apartment doesn’t have any separate rooms besides the bathroom. All the kitchen appliances, a bed, small couch and a television are within reach of each other. It’s definitely not something Y/N wants to spend her whole life in, but she can survive in it, and that’s enough for now.

“How long were you waiting?” The vase gets set down to the single counter she has in the kitchen area.

Glancing at the clock, Carol hums. “Like, a couple of hours, maybe.”

“Carol,” Y/N sighs and rubs the space between her eyes, “you should’ve gone to sleep, don’t you need to be at the base tomorrow?”

“I took a day off.”

“Why would you do that?”

“To spend time with you.” The way Carol’s voice is so gentle makes Y/N want to cry after the day she has had.

Today’s shift felt ten times worse than any other shift in the past, it was full of drunk men and angry customers who genuinely believed in the fact that customer is always right, even when they aren’t. On top of that, her manager thinks the customers are more important than his employees, so he always found a way to satisfy the angry customers, which made them see Y/N as the bad guy.

“Hey,” Carol’s hands go to her cheeks, rubbing them softly, “why are you crying?”

“Sometimes I can’t handle it all.” She gets pulled into a warm embrace. “I was supposed to get out of here ages ago and see the world, but I just can’t get out of here.” Y/N sobs quietly, trying to hold herself back so she wouldn’t ruin Carol’s clothes with her tears and snot.

But Carol doesn’t care. One of her hands is rubbing Y/N’s back, while the other rests at the back of her head. She stays quiet, letting Y/N sob it all out in peace.

The two have been officially seeing each other for a while now. For the first year and a half they mostly danced around each other, both too anxious to make the first move in case they got the wrong impression, and the other person wasn’t interested in women after all. However, during that time, they became very close friends, so when Carol finally did do the first move—thanks to Maria—they moved forward pretty quickly.

Once Y/N tears start to subside, Carol whispers, “take a shower, I’ll make you a snack and ready your bed for us, okay?” Y/N nods, gives her a small peck to the cheek, and makes her way towards the bathroom.

Carol and Y/N are laying on top of each other on the bed as they watch a random movie that’s on one of the night channels. They should be asleep, but they really wanted to spend time with each other, as they don’t have a lot of opportunities to do so.

“Can i ask you something?” Y/N’s quiet voice almost goes past Carol.

“Yeah.”

“Why air force?”

“I’ve always wanted to fly.”

“Isn’t it scary?”

“No.” Carol smiles. She loves the feeling of being free in the air, having the possibility to go anywhere in the world she desires. Y/N hums quietly, not saying anything. “Why do you ask?” Carol tries to move her head in a way she’d be able to see Y/N’s face in the light coming from the television, while not disturbing her position on top of her.

“I just think it’s dangerous is all.”

“Are you worried about me?” She grins.

Y/N’s hand is resting under Carol’s shirt, tracing different shapes on her side. “Kind of hard not to be when i’m in love with you.” She whispers. The grin on Carol’s face falls at the words. She isn’t sure if she even heard her correctly, but she really hopes she did. Y/N moves her head up to see her. “I don’t want to lose you.”

The sentence assures Carol she heard correctly. “You won’t lose me, because I’ll always come back home to you. I love you.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise.”

They kiss, both feeling the smiles on each other’s faces. Carol tightens her arms around Y/N as they pull away. She closes her eyes and listens to the soft sounds of Y/N’s breathing melting in with the sounds of the television, as they fall asleep.

1989

Y/N paces around her house, ruining her nails by biting them. Her eyes are locked on her phone. She is waiting for a call, from anyone, as long as someone calls her and tells her she is overthinking things, that Carol is okay. She has called Maria three times by now, and the air force base once, but none of the calls have been successful.

Carol was supposed to come over four hours ago, straight from work, but she hasn’t arrived yet, nor has she called Y/N to let her know she’ll be late, that’s what she usually does.

Groaning, Y/N picks up the phone and punches in Maria’s number, calling her again. “Come on, come on.” She mumbles, tapping her foot to the ground in a rapid pace. “Damn it!” The phone drops to the table with a crash, few plastic pieces flying off of it from the impact.

No one is answering.

She sits down to the couch, it creaks slightly every time someone moves on it, which had led to some uncomfortable make out sessions with Carol.

Most of her nails are already too short to bite, so she moves to the skin around her them, biting them until she bleeds. Her eyes are locked onto the muted television, desperately trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She is aware of her tendency to overthink and catastrophize things, she always thinks Carol is dead if she hasn’t called by the time she promised to, but that was never the actual situation. This is the same case. Carol isn’t dead, she just got caught up at the base. Nothing horrible has happened.

A knock on the door makes her body relax. Carol is finally here. She lets out a relieved laugh and goes to open the door, however, her face turns to a frown once she notices Maria standing behind it.

“Hey, where’s Carol?”

Maria looks tired. “Can I come inside?” As Y/N nods, she steps in and looks at the floor. “I think you should sit down.”

“Maria-“

“Please,” she looks up at her, “sit down.”

Y/N sits back down on the couch, while Maria stays standing up. She is gathering her thoughts while trying to take deep breaths. “Carol volunteered to pilot with Doctor Wendy Lawson on something important, and the plane, uhm..it-“

“Don’t you dare say it, Maria.” There are tears gathering in the corners of Y/N’s eyes. She knows where this is going, but she wishes she didn’t.

“The plane crashed.” Maria sits down next to Y/N when she starts properly crying. “They couldn’t find anyone, Carol is classified dead. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I wanted to come tell you because no one else would’ve.” No one else knows about their relationship.

Not being able to say anything, Y/N just leans against Maria, who has started crying as well. The person they both consider closest to them, is dead.

1995

It has been a week since Carol helped the Skrulls to get out of the Kree’s line of fire, which means it’s been a week since she got her memories back. Ever since then, only one thing has been in her mind, her lover.

It’s early morning as Carol and Maria drink coffee in the latter’s kitchen, Monica still sound asleep upstairs. “What happened with Y/N when I disappeared?” Carol asks, her voice quite hesitant.

Maria sets her cup down. “I’m not sure. She was obviously pretty devastated when I told her what had happened.”

“She doesn’t still work at Pancho’s, does she?”

“I don’t think so,” Maria frowns, “but Carol, I haven’t talked to her in a long time. She stopped answering my calls three years ago. I don’t know where she is, or how she’s doing.”

Sighing, Carol stands up. “I have to find her.”

Naturally, the first place Carol goes to is Y/N’s apartment, though she really hopes she won’t find her there, that she moved on and started travelling the world like she planned to.

She knocks on the door and waits. Nothing happens, so she knocks again, just in case. She’s almost ready to let out a sigh of relief, but soft sound of footsteps coming from inside the apartment stop her. As the steps grow closer, a small, selfish part of her wishes it’s Y/N who opens the door.

Somehow she feels more pain than relief when the door opens, and Y/N stands before her.

They stare at each other, both stunned by the sight in front of them. Y/N has bags under her eyes, and her hair is messy. She is wearing an old t-shirt that once belonged to Carol, her legs are bare.

She goes to slam the door closed, thinking she has finally gone mad, but Carol’s hand stops it from moving. “You aren’t real.” Y/N’s voice is shaky. Her eyes are closed, she doesn’t want to see the person standing in front of her, because it can’t possibly be Carol.

“I’m real.” Carol whispers, but Y/N only shakes her head as an answer. “I didn’t die, I was captured by Krees after we crashed.”

“You aren’t making any sense, you aren’t real.”

“Can you let me in, please?” Gently, Carol sets her hand on top of Y/N’s hand, that is still holding onto the door. The touch makes Y/N open her eyes, and turn them towards Carol. She stares at her for a long while before opening the door wider.

As Carol walks inside the familiar apartment, she looks around for any changes, but it looks exactly the same as it did six years ago. She hates it. While Carol walks deeper into the tiny apartment, Y/N stays by the front door. Her arms are crossed over her chest in a protective kind of way.

“You weren’t supposed to stay here.”

“I couldn’t leave y-“ she stops herself, “Carol.” She isn’t entirely sure if the woman in her house truly is her Carol. “What happened? Who are the Kree?”

“It’s a long story.” She has a gentle grin on her face, one that reminds Y/N so much of the way Carol used to look at her. “You might want to sit down for it.” Y/N shakes her head, staying right where she is. Carol frowns, but nods, sitting down to the couch. It still creaks anytime weight gets put on it. “Shorter version of it is: when we crashed, Dr. Lawson told me the truth about her mission before he was shot by a Kree. Before he could kill me too, I destroyed an engine, which made me absorb energy of a Tesseract, so the Kree took me with him to their planet Hala. I was integrated to their society, I had no memories of my human life. A bunch of years later, I crashed back to Earth, a lot of fighting happened, I discovered my true power and my memories, and helped the Skrulls.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.” Y/N whispers. Any time Carol used to talk about air force things with her, she felt dumb, but all of this is making her think they aren’t even speaking the same language anymore.

“I was in space, and I have powers now.”

“Like a superhero?”

Carol smiles, nodding. “Yeah, I’m a real life superhero now.”

“You already were a superhero in my eyes.”

Standing up, she takes a few tentative steps towards her. All she wants to do is hold her, kiss her, tell her she’ll never leave her again. But Carol can still see the hesitation in Y/N’s eyes, she can see the years of pain and exhaustion in her expression.

“But then you died.”

Carol stops. She’s close to Y/N, but too far away to touch her. Oh, how desperately she just wants to feel her soft skin under her palm again, even if the years without her have hardened it. “I’m here now.” She pleads with her eyes—please believe me.

“You won’t stay,” Y/N states quietly, “if you’re a hero now.”

“I can take you with me, wherever I go. I won’t leave you again. I’ll help you get out of this place.” Carol takes another few steps forward, reaching her hand towards Y/N. “Please give me another chance.”

Y/N stares at her hand. It’s more calloused than before, rougher. She grips the skin on top of her ribs tightly, trying to ground herself, she feels like ripping herself apart.

“Please.” Her voice cracks. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears. “I can’t live without you.”

Y/N grabs her hand with her own shaking one. Carol squeezes with a smile, pulling her close slow enough that Y/N can stop her if she wishes to. Once they are chest against chest, she pulls her into a full embrace. The waterworks start from the both of them the second they’re in each other’s arms. Carol letting out all of the pent up grief she wasn’t even aware she had, and Y/N still trying to grasp the reality of the situation.

“I missed you.” Y/N chokes out between her sobs. “I missed you so much.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” Carol holds onto her girl so tightly, pressing her against her body like she’d disappear if she let go. “I’m going to show you the world now, because you deserve so much better than this place. I’ll never let you go.”

Although, Y/N doesn’t trust in promises anymore, some small part inside of her sparks hope, that she’ll truly never be separated from Carol again. She’ll even go all the to the stars for her if she has to.

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yizhou-time · 9 months ago

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[ 22.56 ] idol!hongjoong — fluff, exes to ???

note: this is so old, literally wrote it after these photos were published, so sorry if it’s bad!

“what are you doing here?” he asks, there’s no malicious intentions behind it he’s just so confused on how you’re here in front of him, in paris, at fashion week, wearing a saint laurent piece, after years of being apart.

you stare at him for a few moments, just soaking in his presence and he seems to do the same as his body relaxes and he tilts his head slightly. a small smile falls on both of your faces.

“well, they ended up debuting me and for a while i was just wearing their pieces in shoots and where i could, they’re really nice, saint laurent picked up on it and here i am.” your smile increases as you lift your hands to gesture to yourself. “what about you?”

“same here, i’m with balmain.” he nods at you and silence falls upon both of you. not an awkward one though, more of a comforting one while you’re both away from the busy after party.

“do you want to go back in together?” you offer.

he thinks for a moment before turning the way you’re facing, “that sounds nice.”

the pair of you walk quietly to the hall the party is in, each step slower than the last before you’re at the door. you turn to hongjoong and he’s already looking at you with a soft gaze and an ever softer smile. by the looks of it he doesn’t even register what he’s doing until you do the same back to him.

“would you like me to get you a drink?” you ask quietly. you can barely hear yourself but you know he hears it because he shakes his head.

“oh, well i’ll be off then.” you take a few steps forward before you feel his hand on your wrist to pull you back.

you look back, a soft smile still of your face. hongjoong looks perplexed, like he’s unsure what to say and the small frown on his face gives that away. “do you want to sit somewhere quiet?” you knew, you always knew and he couldn’t be more thankful for it.

“come on then.” with no cameras at the party he lets go and you lock pinky’s with him. silently navigating the large room you both end up in a corner with two armchairs and a small coffee table in front. the pair of you sit in silence.

“it’s too much sometimes.” hongjoong mumbles.

“that’s ok, fashion week is really busy so coming here straight from work isn’t super fun either.” you say, leaning back in the chair.

“not only that.” he adds.

you give him a questioning look and after a moment he continues. “seeing you after all this time too, after everything. i could have handled it better, that though just looms over me and now you’re in front of me it- i don’t know.”

sitting up straight you turn in the chair to face him.

“it was a mutual decision. don’t dwell on it, we’re both ok.”

“i’m not.”

you stare at him, not with pity but with a look of longing which he returns. quietly you reach you hand out to him which he takes, your thumb stroking his hand. “why don’t we talk more later?”

his posture deflates and his grip on your hand loosens.

“if we talk about feelings here we can’t act upon them right away.” there’s a hopeful glint in his eye but his posture stays the same in case he gets his hopes up.

“i’ll see you in the lobby when this party is over.” letting go of his hand you give his thigh two pats before standing up with a small smile.

he sits up straight and lifts up his pinky. “promise?”

you lock your with his and stamp your thumb on his. “promise.”

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sumeruin · 11 months ago

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tag, you’re it!!

pairing: yandere! dottore x afab test subject! reader

tw: written by a minor!!!, dddne, heavy noncon, wound fucking, gore, biting, mentions of vomiting but it doesn’t actually happen, biting, lots of blood, blood drinking, kidnapping, drugging, use of weapons, stalking, pet names, dehumanization, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!

a/n: i honestly can’t defend myself on this one um. enjoy <3

minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!

you don’t think your heart has ever beat so fast. you can feel it racing beneath your skin as you run barefoot through the forest, blood rushing through your veins as you hold a hand over your mouth to muffle your desperate, horrified sobs. behind you, you can hear the man that’s been chasing you for the better part of an hour. his heavy footsteps, his terrifying laugh, his sickeningly mocking remarks as he spots the footprints you leave in the mud, unable to cover them up with him right behind you. the wind cools the tears on your face, and it feels like the archons are mocking you. you internally curse them for not granting you a vision, a way to get out of this horrible situation.

your legs burn, and your pace involuntarily gets slower as you sob helplessly, his voice filling your ears, condescending and horrible. “what’s the matter, little rabbit? i can hear you crying.” your legs give out, and you collapse on the muddy floor, your sobs increasing in their urgency as his footsteps get closer and closer. you squeeze your eyes shut, curling your body against the tree you fell against as he finally reaches you. you haven’t gotten a good look at him yet, and you hope you never do. you don’t want to put a face to the voice that’s been tormenting you all night.

you flinch when he reaches a hand out and strokes your cheek, shockingly gentle compared to what you had expected, and he lets out a condescending chuckle and yanks your jaw up to meet his eyes, growling out his words as he speaks. it seems he’s dropped the faux kindness from earlier. “look at me. look at me.” when you obediently open your eyes, sniffling and letting out pained sobs every few seconds, he grins, baring his unnaturally sharp teeth from below his mask and nodding as he appraises you. you feel like a piece of meat, and you’re sure that’s his intent. to dehumanize you, make you feel less than.

he nods to himself, then speaks again. “good. you’ll make a fine specimen, i’m sure.”

you stare up at him in fear, doe eyes widened as you try to flinch away from his iron grip. he doesn’t let you, you didn’t expect him to, though your struggling does seem to please him. you find yourself only more terrified at that fact. your voice is quiet, weak, and he only grins more at the sound. “what… what do you want from me?”

he doesn’t respond, only gives you another horribly wrong looking smile before, almost inhumanly fast, pulling out a syringe and sticking it in your neck. the last thing you remember before everything goes black is how painless it was. like he’s had practice.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the apparent lack of foliage around you, instead replaced with sinister looking metal structures and cages that are stained with something that looks horrifyingly like blood. the second thing you notice is how securely restrained you are. there’s tight, thick straps around your wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, neck, and waist, all of which have locks on them, presumably so you can’t escape.

your mind wanders back to the man in the forest, and what he injected you with. how quickly it worked and left a gap in your memory. as you think more about it, you consequently get more scared. you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a loud, horrible beeping noise, which you come to realize is the heart rate monitor you’ve been hooked up to. you try to take deep breaths to lower it before the man comes in and realizes you’re awake, but you fail. of course you fail.

his footsteps fill the room, and the beeping gets faster as your heart rate increases more with the terror he inspires in you. he smiles at you again, and his voice rings out, terrible and anxiety inducing. “i see you’re awake. tell me, what’s gotten you so worked up, hm? is my laboratory scary? do you not enjoy your accommodations?”

he leans in closer to you, and you feel tears starts to pool in your eyes as your body fills with dread. the man seems amused by this, cooing softly at you and pinching your cheek in a way that’s somehow more dehumanizing than anything else he’s done so far. “please… please let me go,” you’re painfully aware of how pathetic you sound as you speak, but you hope he’ll take pity on you instead. realize you aren’t meant for whatever he has planned and release you, though you know deep down that you aren’t that lucky.

he laughs, then shakes his head no before speaking again. he talks too much, you think. “i’m afraid i can’t do that, little rabbit. though, i suppose some introductions are in order. i am il dottore, the second of the featuring harbingers, and your new master. i’ve had my eye on you for some time, dear. you… intrigue me. i have never seen someone quite as pretty as you are. so, you see, i just had to have you. you understand, i’m sure,” his voice gets on your nerves, though you know it’s best to be compliant when dealing with lunatics, so you simply nod your head as best you can with your restraints as he continues.

“good. you must be wondering what i plan to do with you, correct?” you nod again. “i have many ideas, i can’t say i’ve ever felt this way before, especially about someone as insignificant as you, so there’s quite a few things i’d like to try. of course, i will bathe you, then examine you more thoroughly than i managed in the forest. after i’ve collected your baseline vital statistics, and you have been thoroughly examined and cleaned, i will take you. for my research, of course. i believe it would be beneficial to encourage in coitus with you, as it might help me to better understand the origin of these feelings.”

you’re sure he can see the alarm on your face at how casually he mentions violating you in such a personal way, for he gives you a pat on the head that you think is meant to be comforting. it has the opposite effect, it only makes you more concerned. you shake your head no and give him a desperate, pleading look, your eyes filling with tears at the thought. “please, no! anything but that, i swear i won’t ever try to leave, just… please, don’t!”

his eyes light up, and you finally realize he’s removed his mask. you had been too caught up in your panicked fear to really pay attention to him, but as you examine him, his heavily scarred face, his blood red eyes, his aquiline nose. he’s… undeniably attractive, your brain supplies. you immediately try to push those thoughts away, he just said he was planning on raping you, for archon’s sake, you cannot find him attractive. he clearly picks up on your inner struggle, judging from the amused smile he wears and the way he leans in closer to you, softly caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles.

“i suppose if you’re that against me taking you vaginally, i could find another way to have you. though i can’t promise it will be as pleasant. it is quite hard to give the recipient pleasure in other orifices,” his cologne fills your nostrils as he leans in so close to you, your lips just barely touching. he smells like roses and leather, with just a hint of blood and bleach along with other chemical smells you can’t quite place. you hate yourself for thinking it, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant scent. in fact, you think you’d quite enjoy it on anyone else.

he hums, nosing against your throat and leaving a bite where your neck meets your shoulder. it’s painful, and you have to bite your tongue to resist crying out as the tears that had been building finally start to fall. you can’t hold back the choked sob that escapes when you feel the copious amount of blood that falls from the wound, sure to leave a scar. an inescapable, undeniable, permanent reminder of what he’s done to you and what he plans to do to you.

he ignores your distress, only whispering half hearted coos as he licks up all the blood from your fresh bite mark and groans softly at the taste. the realization that he’s getting pleasure from this makes bile start to rise up your throat. “shh, shh… you taste divine. perhaps that’s why i’m so enchanted with you. you’ve put a spell on me.”

dottore softly laps up the blood that pours from your wound, and you hate yourself a little more for thinking the feeling is somewhat pleasant. his tongue is soothing on your wound, his saliva is unnaturally cold, and surprisingly doesn’t make the cuts sting. you don’t know if it’s the blood loss or the paralyzing fear you’re feeling, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away.

he pulls his mouth away from your wound and wipes the last few beads of blood away from it with his thumb. he examines the way the ruby red liquid reflects the light and contrasts the back leather of his glove as it sits on his finger, and then he brings his thumb to your lips, his tone leaving no room for argument as he commands you. “open.”

you reluctantly obey, looking at him tiredly as the blood loss starts to hit you more and more, your vision slowly starting to become fuzzy at the edges, painting everything in a sort of giddy haze as the pain mixes with the pleasant feelings his sweet words and scent invoke in you. he gives you a smile, patting your head once again as he slides his thumb, still carrying your blood, into your open mouth. “good… good pet,” his hand strokes your forehead comfortingly, and the lights suddenly seem all too bright, your eyebrows furrowing weakly as you try to turn your head away from them.

“shh… just sleep, little rabbit. i’ll take good care of you. when you wake, i’ll be ready for the last part of my plans.”

you don’t have time to really think about what he means by that before the fuzzy edges of your vision fade completely to black, your consciousness quickly ebbing away.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

you’re passing out far too often for your liking, you decide as you come to. this time, you’ve been restrained on a soft bed in what looks like the private chambers of some very wealthy individual. it takes a moment for everything to come back to you, but the dull, throbbing pain in your shoulder quickly helps you remember.

you examine your surroundings once more, taking note of the black and dark blue color scheme of the room, along with the silver accents and luxurious feel of, what you assume is, dottore’s sheets. as you try to move to assess how secure your bindings are this time, you come to a horrifying realization. you aren’t wearing your knee length, cotton chemise anymore, and there isn’t a trace of any mud on your skin. someone has bathed and changed your clothes, into a much more revealing, practically see through babydoll dress.

you realize something even more horrific as you examine your body more closely. someone has also shaved you completely bare.

your attention is snapped to the door as dottore enters, holding a briefcase that gives you a horrible feeling. “good, you’re awake. i was almost worried i had injured you fatally.” he sets the briefcase down on the bed, not giving you a moment to speak, and pulls out a terrifyingly sharp dagger, turning to you with a small smile.

“now, since you seemed so distraught over me having vaginal intercourse with you, i’ve decided on an alternative,” he doesn’t elaborate further, only approaching you and inspecting your body as he marks out various places, mostly on your upper thigh or abdomen. you feel horribly exposed, wearing nothing but a sheer, short babydoll, but there’s nothing you can do about it. you have no idea what he plans to do, but you’re sure it will be torturous.

he finally settles on a spot, a fatty area just above your belly button on the left side, and he walks over to that side of the bed with the blade. he marks out a relatively large circle with a pen, and you realize what he means to do.

your struggles are reignited, and you start to sob as he places the pen back in his breast pocket and gently shushes you. “calm down. it will only be worse for you if you struggle, dear.”

your sobs grow louder as he makes the first incision, you start thrashing around in your bindings and trying desperately to get away from his blade. you give him a pleading look as he continues to carve a horrifyingly deep hole into your skin, and your voice is weak, breaking with every word from the excruciating pain of getting carved into without any sort of numbing solution. “p-please, can- can’t, ‘s- ‘s hurting me, st-stop-!”

he completely ignores you, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from his bag and spraying it on the large wound. your pain is only increased, and you realize why you’re retrained so tightly. he finally looks back at your tear covered face, and gives you a smile as he pets your hair. “there, the hard part is over. now it’s time to continue the experiment.”

you sob, shaking your head no as you cry out from the pain, watching in horror as he undoes his pants just enough to pull his cock out. he positions it at the hole he’s created for himself, and, without any sort of warning, thrusts himself deep inside. you cry out, choking on your sobs and gagging from the all encompassing pain as bile starts to rise up in your throat once again.

he gives a deep moan as he starts to move, completely uncaring of your protests and the agony you’re in as he chases his own pleasure inside of you. his fingers curl around the other side of your torso, and he pulls you into each of his thrusts, only increasing your pain. “you truly are fantastic…”

you think you’re going to be sick.

how dare he enjoy this? how dare he violate you in such a way and have the gall to moan about it? if you had the strength, you think you might kill him.

you dissociate for most of the experience, something your eternally grateful for. you don’t want to remember any of it. the feeling of his thrusts into your limp body starting to falter and his cock twitching inside your, now more of a gash, really, remind you of the very real threat that he’ll cum inside of your large wound.

before you get a chance to plead with him not to, though, you feel the burning, hot liquid fill the space nothing should ever touch. it hurts, almost more than the actual fucking did, and you think you pass out from the feeling.

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

when you come to for the third time, you’ve been bandaged and stitched up and dottore holds you in his arms, tucked snugly against his side while he writes notes, presumably about the torture he’s just put you through. he smiles down at you, petting your hair once again before he stands up, leaving you tied to the bed. “i wished to make sure you would wake up. now i must get back to my work.” he pauses in the doorway as he leaves. “you were wonderful, and my hypothesis was incorrect. having intercourse with you did not cure me. in fact, it only made me more taken with you. …i have decided to keep you, in light of this revelation.”

with that, he swiftly walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. you cry softly to yourself, and then feel a sudden weight on your lap. as you look down, you feel bitterness fill you at the sight.

there, sitting perfectly on your lap, taunting you, is a shiny, anemo vision.

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superectojazzmage · 1 year ago

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Watched the Nimona movie last night. Review I guess. It was pretty damn good. Definitely would’ve probably been regarded as Blue Sky’s magnum opus if they’d gotten to release it instead of being fucked over by Disney. Very cute, very funny, very powerful in the right moments. A thing that stuck out to me is that it’s really only an adaptation in the loosest sense of the word. It takes the core premise and beats of the comic but is functionally an entirely different kind of story that does its own thing. And given that ND Stevenson was heavily involved in production, I suspect that was intentional.

The comic was much darker and more downbeat in a lot of ways, plus it was significantly longer and thus could afford to be slower paced. But more than that, it was a lot more meaty in terms of themes and scope. The whole “LGBT allegory” element was there, but it wasn’t the sole focus, the comic was a story about a lot of different things; not just an LGBT experience, but also discussion of fantasy genre tropes and clichés, criticism of other fantasy deconstructions, character study, exploring what it means to be a hero or villain, critique of the glorification of crime and cruelty in underprivileged communities, corruption in governments, peer pressure, the senseless and self-perpetuating nature of violence, the worthlessness of revenge, etc.. And above all that, it was a story about trauma and people’s responses to it, with Ballister representing people who actually deal with their problems and move on while Nimona represented people who let their mistakes and suffering and grief consume their identity, or worse, use it as an excuse to indulge their worst qualities and take out their feelings on everyone around them.

The movie, by contrast, has a much more narrow focus. The LGBT allegory is front and center and basically the entire focal point of the movie, aside from a spattering of themes about the danger of zealotry and rigid fundamentalist thinking. This gives the movie a much tighter narrative and pacing that suits its inherently shorter runtime, but also leads to a ton of changes to the story either to convey a different kind of message or just work better in a different medium. Most obviously in how Nimona is vastly more sympathetic in the movie and essentially really is the silly gremlin the comic fakes you out into thinking she is, scrapping the comic’s twist that she was a genuinely bad person who was completely serious about wanting to be a villain, caring nothing for the lives she destroyed with her behavior and idolizing Ballister because she thought he was the same as her and would thus tell her what she wanted to hear (i.e., that she was justified in killing and destroying everything around her in the name of getting even). And in the changes to the Institution’s history and nature. And all sorts of other things.

All in all, I feel if you go in comparing and contrasting the movie and the comic, arguing which changes are for the better or worse, you’ll be setting yourself up for disappointment in either direction because they’re two different beasts and it’s like comparing apples and oranges. So keep that in mind if you’re a fan of the comic watching the movie or a fan of the movie wanting to look into the comic. I think ultimately I still like the comic better, but that’s purely my personal opinion and there’s plenty that I think the movie did better.

Some other observations:

Riz Ahmed my beloved, thank you Mr. Stevenson for this perfect casting. Literally perfect for Ballister.

Acting in general was very good. You can tell this was a passion project for a lot of people, not just Stevenson.

Only two changes that are objectively bad are Ambrosius losing his awesome Van Halen hairdo and changing Ballister’s last name — Blackheart is a way cooler name than Boldheart and it’s a pointless change, one that I’d argue even hurts the narrative since it makes it too obvious that Ballister isn’t actually a bad guy.

The animation is really great with fantastic expressions, stylish movement, and wonderful aesthetics that perfectly suit the story, but there’s times where it feels a little off. But there are parts where it looks less “movie” and more “cheap mid-2000s CGI-and-Flash cartoon show from France”.

The humor can be a hit and miss, in a “going through the motions of a Hollywood animated comedy for kids” way. The movie excels when it’s either imitating the comic’s Old Internet sense of humor or going hard on the drama, but there’s bits where it seemingly slams on the brakes to do Illumination-esque Twitter humor and those bits definitely throw off the vibe.

Having an actual straight up attempted suicide in the climax was shockingly ballsy. I genuinely can’t believe they went there, but I’m glad they did because the film wouldn’t have felt nearly as raw without it.

I don’t know how they managed to make the Director even more of an asshole than in the comics, but they did.

#nimona #nimona film #nd stevenson #ballister boldheart #ballister blackheart #ambrosius goldenloin #movie review #animated movies #movies #films #comic books #dc comics #webcomic #web comics #indie comics #netflix #blue sky studios #lgbt film #lgbt fantasy

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delusionaldaydreamz · 3 months ago

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“We’ll figure it out.” | m.s.

W/C- 2,021 | x reader/ y/n

in which Matt finds out his girlfriend is not in fact sick (trigger warning? Idk if you don’t like pregnancy stuff skip over this one lol)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“You’re lame!” I groaned as Matt informed me he had to take the guys to the grocery store to get stuff for their upcoming blind baking video. He chuckled in response, leaning over me in his bed to give me a quick kiss. “It’ll be fast, I promise.” He assured me before disappearing out of his room. I sighed to myself, staring up at his ceiling. Normally I would’ve gone with them, but I haven’t been feeling well lately, so Matt has been trying to nurse me back to health. Damn kids need to get their licenses so he doesn’t need to keep leaving me.

While they were gone, I was texting my bestie Hannah, telling her how I still feel like crap and it’s been over a week now. She kept asking me about symptoms and stuff, insisting I might have Covid but I kept assuring her it definitely wasn’t, repeating over and over the differences in my symptoms and Covid symptoms, until she finally stopped telling me to test for it and sent a message to make my heart drop in an entirely different way.

Hannah: well if you’re not gonna get a Covid test maybe try a pregnancy test 😂

I stared down at the screen for a good minute or two just absorbing the message. She’d definitely sent it as a joke, but it made my heart drop in realization. My period. I had been so worked up about getting sick and having to call out of work because I thought I’d be contagious, that I hadn’t even realized my period didn’t come. After a lack of response in a timely manner, she sent another text

Hannah: I stfg y/n tell me you guys use condoms right now

Me: I mean yeah

Hannah: every single time right

Me: every time..? Like…… every SINGLE time..?

Hannah: y/n!!!! I’ll kill you Jesus Christ

Hannah: wtf y/n!!! I’m bringing you a test NOW and you’re taking it NOW

Me: I’m at his house Hannah

Hannah: good, make him fucking sit there and take it with you

Me: they’re gone

Hannah: even better, I will take it with you

As much as I’d like to argue with her, there was no chance she wasn’t already on her way to the store to pick up a test. I could feel my palms getting clammy, staring down intently at my stomach, as if maybe if I looked hard enough I’d see something in there. It can’t be.

It only took all of 15 minutes for her to text that she was there, lucky ass living right down the street from my boyfriend. “Here, do you want me to stay or do you want to take it alone.” She looked up at me empathetically once I opened the door. “Um-“ I stared down at the pink box she had handed me. “Um- I don’t- I don’t know. I think alone?” I looked up at her, a questioning tone. All I could think to reply was I don’t know I’ve never done this, you tell me.

An overwhelming amount of fear ran through my body just staring down at the box alone. “Okay,” she said pulling me into a hug. “You probably just caught COVID or something okay…” she trailed, her tone wasn’t convincing in the slightest. She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself. I stared down at the box, shaking from how bad my nerves had gotten just seeing the test. As I walked back toward Matt’s bathroom, after thanking Hannah of course, I noticed my pace had slowed, like walking slower was going to make the issue disappear. I steadied my breath before ripping open the box, two tests. Should I take both? Do I need to take both? One is enough…

I tore the wrapper off, noticing how bad my shaking had gotten as I set the stick down on the counter so I could pull down my pants. I quickly peed on the stick and flipped it around, setting it back on the counter wrapped in toilet paper. I washed my hands a little slower than usual too, spending extra time foaming them up with the soap and a little extra time rinsing it off. I stared down at the toilet paper wrapped pregnancy test the entire time, though. I looked down at my phone, to check how long it had been since peeing on the little white test, but noticed a message from Matt as well which also made my blood run cold in this very moment. I ignored it. Didn’t even open it. I turned my attention back to the wad of toilet paper.

With a large inhale, I slowly started wrapping the paper, like it was painful almost. I prepared myself for the worst, expecting the best. I could basically feel all the color drain from my face the second the test peeked back out of the paper, two little lines across it. Two little pink lines. “No..” I said under my breath. I let out a mixture between a scoff and a chuckle, not believing my eyes, even though I kind of expected it the second Hannah made the joke. It just can’t be. No one even knows we’re dating.

I didn’t realize I had left the restroom door open slightly until there was a light tap, making me jump as I turned to face Matt. His greeting fell short as his eyes landed on me, his face also draining of color. “No…” he trailed softly, the exact way I had moments before. “It’s not- that’s not- what is that?” I watched his expression as he stared at the test in my hands, his eyes eventually trailing to the wrapper tossed sloppily around the restroom counter, the box ripped open right beside it. “Um-“ I stared, trying to take in exactly what emotion he was feeling, though I couldn’t place it. If I had to guess, the exact same thoughts were running through his mind as mine. “Is it- is it-“ he had started fumbling over his own words. “Positive..?” I trailed, finally making eye contact with him. “No…” he trailed. “I- but we-“ we both stared at each other for a moment.

“Take the other one.” He said, shutting the door behind him quietly for some reason. Clearly he wasn’t thinking straight, his brain most likely littered with worries and concerns like mine had been. Somewhere deep in the undertow a certain excitement surged through my veins too.

I sighed, obliging as he picked up the positive test I had placed on the counter so I could open the other one. He stared down at it so intently you’d think he was reading a novel. As he leaned against the counter, brows furrowed, his hand going up to his mouth so he could bite at his thumb I realized, that’s exactly why I’m pregnant. God how is he so fucking attractive, even in moments like this? I shook the thought away, not right now y/n, before I peed on the second stick of the night.

“Baby?” He spoke ip as he saw me nervously setting down the second one, also wrapped up. I just looked up at him, to see him staring down at me. His expression held love, but it was still full of concern. “You know I love you right?” He started making me nod. “I- we’ll figure it out okay? Let’s just see what that one says. I’m-“ he paused finding words. As I stood to wash my hands, his hands made their way across my waist, chest pressing to my back firmly. “I love you.” He said, kissing my neck. Oh how I wish he wouldn’t do stuff like that at times like this. “I love you too, Matthew.” I said instinctively calling him by his full name, a bad habit I had whenever I was stressed or upset. He hated it, it always held a negative connotation for some reason, but he let out the slightest chuckle as I turned to face him. “You’re really gonna call me Matthew right now?”

I liked that he was still trying to keep everything light, he’s always so helpful with bad situations. I chuckled at him, wrapping my arms around his neck to give him a kiss before looking down at the tests, one positive and one waiting to be read. As we both stared down at the tests I felt his grip on my hips tightened a bit. I genuinely couldn’t tell if there was some hint of excitement in him or what he was feeling, other than obviously scared. “You ready?” I looked up at him, grabbing the second test. He shook his head, his hands not moving from their position at my hips. I took in another breath as I started unwrapping the toilet paper around the test. We both saw the two lines at the same time. I glanced up at him briefly, he was just staring down at the test. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, the other even tighter on my hip now. “I- well fuck…” without another thought he was calling out for Nick, making me quickly throw my hand onto his mouth. “What are you doing!?” Whenever he was having issues he’d turn to one of the guys, depending on what type of issues they were would decide which brother got to listen to his tangents. Me personally I liked to keep my problems inside until I just burst.

We both heard a loud “what?” From the kitchen, but we both ignored it as we bickered back and forth. “We cannot tell them!” “He’ll know what to do!” “Matt we don’t even know what we’re gonna do!” “That’s why we need to talk to Nick he’ll-“ our hushed tones were abruptly stopped by another, more frustrated “what!?” As the door swung open. Both Matt and I stood frozen staring at Nick. Nick’s attitude faltered immediately as his eyes widened, quickly looking up between Matt and I. “That is notwhat I think it is.” “What are we supposed to do!?” Matt immediately bombarded his triplet brother. “Why are you asking me, Matt? I’ve never gotten a girl pregnant.” Nick said, his typical sarcasm quickly returning. “Dude the fans don’t even know and there’s no way we could hide that.” “Matt we don’t even know what we’re gonna do or if it’s alive or healthy or anything.” I spoke up, setting the test on the counter. “Jesus Christ, why the fuck are you idiots fucking without protection?” Nick shook his head at us. “It was like two times.” “Well it should’ve been zero. I don’t know what you want me to say about this, I think I’m speechless for this one.”

Matt sighed, clearly feeling defeated by nicks lack of a solution. “Don’t act like this is my problem Matt!” Nick immediately got defensive. “I’m your brother, not your mother or your pregnant girlfriend. You two need to figure it out.” “Thank you.” I narrowed my eyes at Matt as Nick spoke. “At least you’re not actually sick.” Nick put a sarcastically empathetic hand on my shoulder making me roll my eyes at him. “Not the time.” I said, realizing the tension had broken a lot when Nick joined in, surprisingly. Maybe the initial shock was just wearing off the more we realized it was real. Matt sighed as Nick walked out of his bathroom, looking back at me. “Well I guess the first step is to go to a doctor and see how far it is.” Matt said reluctantly. He grabbed my hand, placing a small kiss on the top of it. “Like I said, we’ll figure it out. I love you.” He kissed my forehead now. “I think the tension between us right now might be too obvious if I film with you guys tonight. I should probably sit this one out.” I sighed softly, wrapping my arms around him. “That’s fine, love. Just go to my room and rest okay?” He said causing me to nod against his chest. •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n- some of yall are weird about the triplets and pregnancy stuff??? Sooo idk how this is gonna go over in this fandom lolol buuuttt this was just a quick little one bc the Matt one I’m writing is taking foreverrrrr sorryyyy

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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unforth · 11 months ago

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We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

#unforth rambles #politics #us politics #genocide #genocide tw #i don't know how to tag this #i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's #i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter #to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives #and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed #who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation #no matter how much or how little they fought #they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back #i have no family in europe #not a single person survived #i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously #and neither should you

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gougarfem · 1 year ago

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how was the process of getting a dumbphone!

oh my god this is something i'm so excited to talk about, sorry it took me so many months to respond!

getting a dumbphone improved my quality of life so so much. i knew my screentime was high, but didn't realise it was a genuine psychological addiction until i quit. the first few days were extremely rough. time seemed to pass about ten times slower, and i was forced to fill the hours with various hobbies and activities. i know we all love to tell people to touch grass, but i really did have to connect with nature and it did wonders for my mental health.

i think for the first three days i was constantly restless and horribly irritable, looked around for my phone every few minutes, felt intense boredom and even cried a few times lol. your addiction may not be as extreme as mine was and this varies from person to person. however, after about a week i realised i remembered everything i'd done each day, because it was filled with intentional activities and little moments of peace rather than a blur of scrolling. i also wasn't on adhd meds yet, which is something i'll talk about in another post.

not having everything at your fingertips is uncomfortable, but (and it's a cliche) you really start to appreciate the world around you more. i looked forward to spending time with my family, because it filled time and i wasn't half-involved in my phone the entire time. i use an mp3 player to listen to music, and uploading music to it is a meaningful and interesting activity, rather than just shuffling a playlist. i listen to whole albums instead of being flooded with dopamine from spotify firing recommended songs at me. i appreciate music more, i make CDs for friends, i have to be intentional in discovering new artists and music. if i'm having an interesting conversation online, i look forward to going home and logging onto my laptop to continue it. i don't spend my commute, time in class, or time with friends texting somebody else. everything feels more intentional, spaced out, and interesting, even the things i do online.

i also found i stopped performing in every activity i did. i stopped thinking about whether i could post it to instagram or instantly send a picture in a discord server. i started picking up new hobbies for myself, not for an online audience, and living in the moment more. this is really important in the modern age, although again uncomfortable.

the best part was how my connections with others increased through having a dumbphone. i started calling friends rather than messaging on five platforms at once, and they started reciprocating. my message threads are continuous, coherent conversations, rather than sending memes. people realised they have to intentionally reach out to me, and i lost relationships with people who weren't interested in that, but strengthened connections with people who did put in the effort (many of whom i barely talked to in the past). i give people my phone number, not my social media handle, and they actually start conversations with me rather than hitting follow. i get to hear my friends' voices when they have drama to share and realise it takes me forever to type on my flip phone keyboard. again, everything is intentional, takes time, and richer than when i had a smartphone.

i genuinely would recommend it to absolutely everyone (i've kind of become like a crossfit guy in telling people to get a dumbphone lol). i won't pretend it's easy, and most people make excuses - for the first few months of having a dumbphone, i was bedbound or in hospital, and truly relied on online connections to pass time and communicate. it still hugely improved my life. however, no matter your situation there are always, always better options than scrolling an app, and you deserve to pass your time in a memorable way. i think most people don't realise they're addicted/reliant on smartphones, and the idea of quitting is horribly uncomfortable, but at least for me, the benefits were worth it.

i'm happy to answer any questions, i literally could talk about this topic for hours (even if it's stuff like "how would i use x app" "how would i replace x smartphone function").

ditch your smartphone babe, u deserve better <33

#asks #hystericelle #dumbphone #phone addiction

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huihuiheart · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 2023 D1: Worship You - Seventeen - Woozi

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Seventeen Masterlist

Pairing: Woozi - Jihoon x Afab! Reader

Genre: Soft Smut, Established Relationship

Summary: Jihoon once again cannot help but to indulge in his favorite form of stress relief...you.

Warnings: Marking, some manhandling, dirty talk, unprotected sex? (never explicitly said either way, but no mention of protection so...stay safe), slight sub/dom themes if you squint, very very light degradation (not really tho).

Word Count: 1143

To say Jihoon’s career was taxing would be an understatement. More often than not did he come home feeling as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Resolving that stress was nearly an art form in its own. Even so, it was an art form the two of you had nearly perfected, and yet it still astonished Jihoon how you couldn’t wrap your pretty little head around the fact that his favorite form of relief was to be between your thighs. It was his favorite form of anything to be honest, so long as he got to be there. In your mind, it was for the teasing, though Jihoon really had no intent to do that.

Hearing the door slip closed and locked once more along with the sound of Jihoon’s bag hitting the ground rather heavily you knew it had been another intense day for him. Shoulders slumped and eyes heavy as his gaze found your form, softening as usual once he did, yet still not enough to fully charge him again.

“Are you hungry?” You question, hands immediately moving towards his face once he’s within your reach, gently combing his bangs back and letting you see his full face.

Jihoon only hums in response, burying his face in the crook of your neck to leave a kiss. His hands which had instinctively slipped around your waist drifting down until they were at the back of your thighs, gripping firmly and hinting at what was in store for you. It is more challenging to move due to his grip on you even as he leads you back towards the kitchen where you had been before his arrival. His hands only leave you to reach behind and turn off the stove so the food you had been working on won’t burn while he takes his time with you. Then his hands are on you again, helping you up onto the counter where he can have better access to you.

The grip on your thighs firm as he presses them apart, watching how the oversized shirt you had on slowly raises up over the hem of the tiny little house shorts you had underneath. Something he bought a lot of for you for this very reason. Kneeling down to settle between them, his lips meet your left knee first, slowly trailing soft brief presses along the whole length of your thigh, going so far as to push up on the hem of your shorts just slightly before switching to your right thigh and working back up towards your knee. Humming against your skin once he gets there, looking through his lashes to meet your gaze.

“Always so soft...so breakable... and all for me.” His lips are pressed against you again, nipping this time as he starts to follow along his path again much slower this time. His teeth working against your flesh now as he leaves little bites and sucks in his wake, tongue always delicately slipping out to soothe over his actions and the marks they leave behind.

His words register slowly due to his actions, voice strained with little whimpers and gasps, “Breakable?”

Jihoon chuckles against your thighs now, “Absolutely darling, that’s the best part. Now if you want me to give that filthy little cunt of yours some attention you best show it to me. Or I can keep satisfying myself with just your thighs instead if you like. After all, they are perfection.”

As if to prove his point he leaves a particularly dark mark behind now, only actually giving you the chance to squirm out of your clothes once he was satisfied with the way your thighs were littered with marks from his mouth. Standing again once he sees what you’re doing and letting you strip yourself, taking the time to do the same before he’s on you. His hands are on the counter on either side of you as he leans over your form. He looks into your eyes as if waiting for something and once you place your hands on his shoulders he snaps. Gripping them firmly and lifting them above your head, while his head brushes through your folds and slowly pushes in.

“So worked up from me worshiping these pretty perfect thighs, and here I thought I was for me.” Jihoon can’t help but mock with the hint of a smirk. Taking his time with you and letting you get used to the feeling. As much as he loved breaking you he never meant it in a way that would hurt you, and he always picked the pieces up once you were too fucked out to even register it properly afterwards.

It didn’t take long however for Jihoon to feel like he was missing something, hands leaving your wrists with a stern warning, “Keep them there until I say or I’ll be the only one cumming tonight.”

You whine but do as you're told, trying almost desperately to claw at the cabinets to find something to ground you. Jihoon’s hands are now free to find your thighs again, lifting them up until your legs are over his shoulders’ letting his mouth go back to marking up your legs as he fucks you deeper now. The sight of you losing yourself on his cock, thighs pressed against him and absolutely covered in his claim over you was making him lose his mind. Finally deciding to play your body the way he was truly good at and finding the spots that made you feel best as he was so proficient at by now.

“Touch the swollen little clit for me darling. I want you to throw yourself over the edge for me. Make that pretty little cunt cum all over my cock like a good girl.” Jihoon instructs, watching you do just so before thrusting harder to emphasize each of the next words he growls out, “My. Good. Fucking. Girl.”

Only a few more thrusts and you’re falling into pure bliss, your climax triggering his as he slowly works you both through it. Gently letting your legs down and then helping you to the bedroom. Hands gently working out the strained muscles in your thighs even though he knows you wouldn’t say anything with how you love it too.

“I’m going to go warm up the food you were cooking earlier. I’ll bring it to you, just stay here and recover okay?” Jihoon promises, kissing your forehead before getting up to do that. Only stopping to look at you with a hum when you call his name.

“Can you get the ointment that helps the marks feel better too?” You meekly question, flustering some at the request and it makes him laugh.

“Oh, darling, I didn't forget about that. I was just waiting until I was truly done with you this evening for that.”

If you enjoy my work please keep in mind how much time and effort goes into it and show support through comments and reblogs, or consider buying me a kofi. (Caffeine fuels the chaotic gremlin in me who creates content.)

#huihuiheart #kinktober 2023 #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #woozi smut #seventeen woozi x reader #woozi x reader #seventeen woozi smut #lee jihoon x reader #lee jihoon smut

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underhousearrestblog · 1 year ago

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All I See Is Red | J.M.

(summary) you thought you were being rescued but instead you end up under the control of different captor

(warnings) blackmail, captivity, forced proximity, the possibility of sexual assault (eventually not happening and not between the main characters), death, threats, DUB-CON (initially non-consensual oral, initially non-consensual kissing) CONSENT UNDER PRESSURE IS NOT CONSENT!!!

(pairings) Joel Miller x reader

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(genre) angst, fluff (if you, like me, have abandonment issues), smut (if you squint), dark romance

(trope) enemies to lover-ish?

(word count) 7.7k

(also) I’m not god, I cannot make you stop reading if you’re a minor but I would kindly ask you to not interact with this post if you are underage

(also) flashbacks’ in Italics, the flashbacks from Joel’s point of view are in Bold Italics

(also) please be aware that this is a dark romance so don’t be surprised when triggers previously mentioned are found in the following fic (it’s YOUR responsibility to read the trigger warnings and decide whether you’re up for it, baby :))

(also) it’s 1 AM here in Latvia and I’m drunk so excuse any mistakes I might have missed while editing

HAPPY READING!

You squirmed under the intense gaze of one of your companions. The man was about your age and one of the leaders of the group that had captured yours. He looked shady at best and rapey at worst. You had no idea what you could possibly do to avoid his attention and your mind subconsciously jumped to the worst case scenario that could occur if his undivided attention and intention would not stray. Your hands trembled as your thoughts raced through your options.

Would it be worst or better if you complied? Would it be quicker or slower? More or less painful?

It was pretty clear what people paid with post-apocalypse, and it was not with money. Some paid with weapons, and yours was taken away by your captors. Some paid with food, which was also taken away and which you didn’t have lots of to begin with.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

You fought tears prickling your eyes and mentally berated yourself for not staying in the QZ.

Your hands were tied in front of you and with a thick rope, instead of handcuffs or metal substitution that was used for some of your group-mates. Apparently, you didn’t pose enough of a threat for them to use cuffs on you. And it felt weirdly insulting.

One of the older men of your captors stepped in front of your small group. He pointed his rifle to a man of your group, motioning for him to get up. When he didn’t comply or even move, you saw a muscle tick in your captor’s jaw, as he pressed the weapon against the older man’s forehead and pressed the trigger.

You gulped, as you watched a person slump against the ground in front of you. Blood pooled out of his head and people around him screamed out for mercy, silently begged for quick death or cried softly.

Next gunshot was so unexpected that you jumped a little, when a little boy to your right ended up shot between his eyes. You squeezed your eyes shut to avoid accidentally looking at the child.

And even with your eyes shut, you could feel the weapon being turned towards you.

“Quick death is better than anything else this world has to offer.”

- Not her, - you shuddered, as the slimy guy in the back spoke up. – She can be useful for a while.

You really wished the leader of the group would consider you an additional and unnecessary mouth to feed but then the person to your left crumbled against the ground and your fate was sealed.

When you opened your eyes, every person you had travelled with was dead. Death didn’t scare you nor did it surprise you – post-apocalypse had made everyone emotionally stunted and numb and you hadn’t known these people prior to your journey. But they had still treated you better than most of the people you had met.

The disgusting man in back looked you over, smiled, took a step towards you and... crumbled to the ground. Your eyes widened.

There was a bullet wound right between his eyes. His eyes were still very much so wide open.

The leader zeroed in on you. He quickly approached you and pulled you up by your arm.

- Was she bait? – someone behind his back asked.

You shook your head, suddenly realizing two very important things. One – you were out in the open with somebody who just took out some of the best armed soldiers without them even suspecting anything which meant whoever this was – they were very, very dangerous. Two – in this entire world you had no friends left which meant one thing and one thing for sure – whoever was killing your captors, was not doing it out of the goodness of their heart.

Maybe for their supplies?

Their weapons?

Or maybe-

A bullet went straight through the group leader’s head, making him go down right against you, taking you to the ground as well. The bullet wound from his head sprayed you with blood. You could feel blood on your face, taste it in your mouth, feel it drip down your hair...

- Shiiiiit, - Tommy watched through his binoculars. – Did you get her too?

Joel shook his head.

He never missed and he certainly didn’t shoot someone he didn’t intend to.

Once Joel finished off the rest of the soldiers, he swung the rifle over his shoulder and took the binoculars from his brother.

- Are we offering her to stay in Jackson or are we just leaving her here?

Blood coated you all over. The protective side of Joel wanted to hug you, wipe blood, tears and sweat from your face and promise that you have nothing and no one to be afraid of. He would make sure of it. The other side of him – the one he wasn’t aware of up until this moment – primal and possessive – demanded that he marched over to where you were laying on the ground, picked you up and fucked you right there in the blood of the scum that laid their hands on you. This side demanded that he claimed his prize. He had saved you life, so now it belonged to him.

He pushed both parts away and tried to imagine what if you had been someone he didn’t have such a primitive reaction to. What if you were any other woman in distress? What if you were a child survivor?

- I’m going to offer her a chance to come with us, - Joel decided. – Whatever she decides, goes.

Tommy nodded, seemingly deeming it a good idea.

- I think we should try to convince her to stay, though, - Joel added, meeting his brother’s eyes.

When Tommy offered nothing, for a moment Joel thought he had slipped up and told on himself, so he added:

- She’s a woman, maybe wounded, definitely alone, - he shrugged, as if he didn’t care either way. – It would be in her best interest to live in a town with, you know, walls and houses. Water. Food.

Tommy, seemingly okay with that, got up and started heading downhill towards you but Joel’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.

- Let me, - he offered.

His brother looked a bit weirded out. Whenever he and his brother were out on any rescue missions together, Joel put in extra effort to not have to deal with any survivors and always headed straight back home.

- Are you sure? – Tommy looked over his bloody dirty clothes and disheveled hair. – You can be kinda... blunt.

Joel just chuckled and decided on using the only card that usually got his brother off his back.

- I think your pregnant wife might appreciate that I’m letting you off sooner...

Tommy’s eyes softened, as they usually did whenever his wife and unborn child were mentioned. He nodded and picked up their shit before throwing his brother one last glance.

- At least try to be empathetic.

Your senses after the whole shoot-out were a bit all over the place. You couldn’t focus your eyes enough to notice how bloody your own hands were but you could very clearly taste the metallic blood on your tongue. You could smell the blood on your neck and in your hair but your hearing seemed to catch up only on your rapid heartbeat.

That was exactly why you hadn’t heard the heavy approaching footsteps. That was why, when a large hand landed on your shoulder, you – not knowing if it was that of a friend or an enemy – pulled your fist back and swung as hard as you could.

The man before you easy caught your wrist. His warm palm wrapped around it and he pulled you towards him. Still very much so in the state of panic, you allowed him to pull you into a hug and rested your head against his chest. Your breaths were erratic, as you clung to the only person who didn’t immediately tried to kill you off.

One hand slowly stroked through your messy hair, as the other drew circles on your back, trying to calm you down.

He smelled nice, you decided, after recognizing the smell of soap.

Nobody smelled like soap anymore. Not in this hellhole.

That made you double-take in the man before you. Once your breathing had somewhat stabilized, you pulled back. The man let you, while still keeping an arm on your bicep to most likely not let you fall in case you fainted.

- Who the fuck are you? – sounded a bit rude but you were too emotionally drained to care.

- I’m... – he looked at the bodies at your feet. – I’m from a nearby town. My name’s Joel.

You looked down too. He didn’t seem dressed similarly to the dead men and sure as hell didn’t look like he crawled out of a sewer.

- Are you with these guys? – you gestured towards the dead people.

He shook his head, and you exhaled in relief.

Now, were you sure he wasn’t just lying? He didn’t seem to be but wouldn’t be the first time you hadn’t caught up to a lie. But he wasn’t trying to hit you or shoot you, or rape you and that would have to do. For now.

- I’m the one who killed them, - that got your attention.

When you didn’t move a muscle – or breathe, for that matter, - he took a step towards you but this time you immediately took one back. His head slightly tilted to the side, as he let go of your arm. You didn’t dare to run or try to reach any of the weapons that belonged to your captors. You were acting as if you had come across a wounded but still stronger-than-you animal.

- That’s one hell of a skill for a citizen of a nearby town to have, - you threw out, trying to steady your voice so it doesn’t tremble.

- Then it’s a good thing, I guess, that I was trying to save you and not kill you, sweetheart, - he said in a low voice, meant to put you at ease.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Nobody moved.

He was first to break eye contact and brushed his hand over his face, as if dealing with this bloody scared girl was irritating him.

- Jackson – the town I’m from – is few miles from here. You can wash off the blood, get some clean clothes, eat and, you know, not freeze to death, - he gestured towards the hills and leaned down to pick up the rifle of the dead leader of the scavangers. - Let’s go.

He turned to leave, assuming you would just follow a stranger as some sort of a child.

When you didn’t move from your spot, your arms still numbly hanging by your sides, he threw a look over his shoulder and stopped. He just looked at you for a second and then strode towards you once again.

This time when you took a step back, he didn’t care and took an additional step to end up right in front of you.

This close together, you had to tilt your head back to look him in the face. When he didn’t say a word, you realized he was probably waiting for an explanation.

You cleared your throat, trying to not sound tired and empty.

- I don’t know you, - was all you said.

When all the reaction you got was a tilted eyebrow, you rolled your eyes and tried to step back again to put some distance between you two. His hand shot out and he pulled you back by your bicep to where you stood. This time the touch seemed more than just making sure you could stand. It seemed almost possessive.

- You are a stranger and I’m not going anywhere with you, - you sounded like a kidnapped child who had to explain the most essential survival instinct.

He smirked, looked down at you.

- A stranger, huh? – his fingers on your arm didn’t let go. – Didn’t stop you from clinging to me just mere seconds ago...

Once he had said the words out loud, only then Joel realized how much he liked the idea of you seeing him as your savior. Your protector. Provider. How much he liked the thought of you clinging to him any time you were scared, knowing he was the one to stop anybody from harming you.

You looked into his darkened eyes – eyes that now seemed to vaguely remind you that, above all, he was still a man and stronger than you at that.

In another life, had you met him at a bar, you probably would’ve been tipsy and tried to hit on him. Then he would have to turn you down because he probably would say something along the lines of “I could be your father, sweetheart”. But essentially it would be because your type were older dominant men and he would probably be married to an age-appropriate woman. And, after embarrassing yourself, you would check him out one last time before parting ways and never seeing each other again.

He was literally a textbook version of your type. Every single feature you had ever found attractive in a man.

But, if anything, apocalypse had taught you to never live this life by the rules and instincts of your previous one.

- How do I know that you’re not just taking me somewhere to kill and dismember me?

“Why not – give him some ideas for your death,” you mentally berated yourself.

He smiled patronizingly, as if dealing with an annoying child.

- If I was able to take them all out from there, - he motioned towards some trees on a hill. – why take you anywhere? I could just kill and dismember you right here, - he laughed.

Even though you didn’t want to admit it, what he was saying was believable. There was no one else – alive – left here and nowhere to run and hide – not that you were in any condition to be successful at attempting that. He could just shoot you and be done with you.

Seeing some initial understanding flash in your eyes, Joel let go of your arm and turned to leave, again:

- Shall we?

And, again, you didn’t move.

When he turned towards you with a raised eyebrow, waiting for you to explain your next issue, you decided to take the diplomatic route.

You approached him and took his clean, large palm into both of your much smaller, much bloodier hands.

- Thank you, - you felt every emotion you had had for the last few days rush out all at once. – Thank you so much for not letting them kill me, Joel, - tears prickled your eyes. – They said they were gonna give us to some sort of a cannibal cult or something. And then there was this one guy, he was looking at me all the time so I thought that he was gonna...

Joel’s arms circled around you and pulled you against his chest. This was a real hug – not the one before where he was trying to make you breathe again. You stood up on your toes, arms wrapped around his neck, as you rested your chin on his shoulder. After you mustered the strength to calm down and speak clearly, you said:

- What I meant to say was – thank you for saving me but I’m not coming to your town, - you softly explained. – Thanks for the offer though.

For a moment, Joel didn’t move or breathe. His thoughts raced hundred miles per hour, trying to understand your words. His arms slowly loosened around you, and he stepped back to look at you.

You were smiling, just a small smile out of gratitude, but it made his heart both stop and somehow pick up speed.

These three days of following you and your captured group had made him feel such a surge of protectiveness, seeing you struggling to accept your situation. The thought of bringing you back to Jackson – which was something he never offered when it came to new people – and it made him feel as if you were controlling him from afar. You didn’t even know him and you were still slowly but steadily wrapping him around your little finger, making him come up with plans how to protect you.

- It’s not safe for you out there, sweetheart, - he tried to reason. – You’re alone and don’t seem to know how to use a weapon well. How are you going to survive?

He seemed to understand. He was doing the thing that people did where they knew someone was leaving but were still asking questions just to let someone know they cared. The soft look in his eyes made you let your guard down just a little. But it was enough for you to make a grave mistake.

- Well, living’s overrated anyway, isn’t it? – you tried to joke.

His eyes darkened, and your smile dropped. When he started to look downright angry, you reached to jokingly punch your fist against his shoulder.

- I was joking, - your laughed under your breath, - Jesus...

But all Joel could see before his eyes was red. You, laying somewhere, coated in blood. This time, your own. Would it be a wild animal? Another group of armed soldiers? Maybe you would just eventually starve?

Tommy and Maria would let you go the minute you would confess that Joel had brought you back against your will. They would not keep a prisoner and someone who did not wish to be there. And he would be forced to watch you leave. He would be forced back into square one.

Once you turned your back on him and searched the ground for anything you could take for yourself, Joel made up his mind.

You felt his hand wrap around the front of your neck, as he roughly yanked you back against his chest. Out of sheer surprise, both your hands shot up to peel his hand from your neck.

When the initial terror had subsided, you realized he wasn’t trying to strangle or choke you. His fingers expertly found a spot on your neck a bit below your left ear, and you felt him put pressure against it. You started to feel light-headed but it was too late for you to remember that certain spots in your neck could be used to make a person lose consciousness.

His other arm wrapped tightly around your middle, as your vision had started to cloud.

With black spots dancing before your eyes, all you could focus on was his warm breath against the back of your neck.

- This is for the better, sweetheart, - he promised and placed a light kiss on the small hairs on the back of the neck. – You’ll see.

That evening, when Joel returned to Jackson later than expected, Tommy greeted him at the gates.

- Where have you been? – his brother looked and sounded worried. – Where’s the girl?

- She refused to come here so I offered to walk her down all the way to the main road, - Joel purposefully avoided looking his brother in the eye, as he took off his rifle. – She’s heading back to the closest QZ.

For just few seconds, Tommy looked suspicious. He had spent three days, trailing around the scavangers and watching Joel get progressively more protective over you.

Had he killed you?

That was the only option Tommy considered and it didn’t seem possible. What would he gain from killing you?

Tommy shook his head and clasped his brother’s shoulder.

- Maybe for the best, - he offered. – Can’t save everyone.

Joel nodded and continued to dissect the few items he had taken from the dead scavangers.

Had Tommy been less tired and less excited to just see his brother alive and well, he would’ve noticed his brother’s gloves and warm jacket gone. The backpack that was usually given to people who went outside the town limits and was usually filled with food and some essentials, was gone too.

You opened your eyes, hearing the deadbolt being unlocked from outside. You didn’t rush towards the door as you had done the first few times Joel had returned. You had thought that having the element of surprise and trying to catch him off guard him would make at least a small difference. It didn’t. It hasn’t. Every time you had ended up on the floor with him restraining both your hands with one of his, while immobilizing your legs with his thighs.

“You’re getting better at this,” he praised you, and that left you even more furious. “Another few times of you ending up under me and we might just end up with me under you.”

After the initial shock had passed and you had gained back some strength – thanks to the food Joel brought and keeps bringing over which you still refuse to thank him for – and after you had realized that crying and pleading with him to let you go won’t work, you adapted a new tactic. Trying to scratch his eyes out every chance you got.

You have been living in this little cottage for about a week now. It was cozy and in any other circumstance could be considered something you had once wished to live in. It had an open-floor and with stairs that led to somewhat of a second floor with one room that only had a railing around it and no walls so it could be seen from the first floor.

This is where you had woken up. The way Joel had explained it – since you refused to come back to Jackson as a “civilized” person, you got to live here. With him.

Living was a bit too flashy of a word for it. You couldn’t leave. Every night when Joel begrudgingly went back to Jackson (as he put it, his brother would get suspicious if he stopped going home all together), you were locked inside this cozy little prison. Prison that you realized after many unfruitful leaving attempts was more secure than any QZ you had been a part of.

An old kitchen knife that you had tugged inside your sleeve bit into your skin. In order for this to work, you would have to get physically close enough to Joel. The problem was – that kind of behavior would probably be suspicious to him, as usually you tried to keep as much distance between the two of you as possible.

When he opened the door with his shoulder, you realized that you had missed a really good escape opportunity. Both his hands were full of what looked like boxes of food and clothes. When he kicked the door closed, you greedily watched the deadbolt with the lock unused, as your captor went over to the small kitchen portion of the house to put down the food. Subconsciously, you felt your tongue swipe over your lower lip, eyes darting between Joel and the door.

- I have to say, I’m disappointed, - he chuckled. – All this way from Jackson, I was really looking forward having you trashing and squirming underneath me.

You didn’t move from where you sat in an armchair in the middle of the room. When your eyes once again darted to the door, Joel caught it. He leaned against the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. With a slight turn of his head, he gestured towards the unlocked door.

- Wanna try? – he patronized you, smiling. – I mean, the last time you got out, I caught you before you had a chance to step outside the gates. Granted, you were malnourished and weak, and couldn’t pick up any speed...

Your eyes didn’t leave the door. How come freedom was this close and this far at the same time?

Joel lazily walked towards you but took the longer route by circling around the side of the kitchen island, giving you, like, two second head-start.

When he finally reached you, you looked up to find him staring down at you. His fingers incredibly gently pushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, before he bent down so you were both more or less at an eye level.

- Here’s an idea, - he suggested, - I’ll let you have a fifteen second head-start, an unlocked door and I’ll even throw in permission to use that blunt kitchen knife you got on you.

You tried not to flinch by how little of privacy you had from him.

- In return, if you make it outside the gates, I’ll-

- Let me go? – you asked.

He laughed and shook his head. You deflated. And you hated that just for a moment there had been a small hope in your heart that he might have gotten bored of taking care of you here. That he had gotten sick of you.

- No, - he chuckled as if you had tried to make jokes. – Make it outside the gates and I’ll reward you.

You must’ve looked like you genuinely considered this deal because Joel looked a bit surprised but mostly amused.

He circled the armchair, pushed his boot between your much smaller ones and roughly kicked your left boot to the side, so he could comfortably stand between your legs. Once he placed both his hands on the armrests on either side of you, he leaned down. Your lips were just few inches apart and it had gotten really hard to keep eye contact. Or breathe, for that matter.

- And what’s the reward? – did that hoarse voice really belonged to you?

You eyes kept darting from his eyes to his lips.

- I was thinking head.

It took a second for your lust-clouded brain to catch up. Once it did, your accusing eyes shot up to meet his amused ones.

- What?

- I’ve seen you looking at my arms. My hands. Me. I know you find me attractive, - he said. – And I think we both know that it’s very much reciprocated.

You were so mad you could almost feel fumes coming from your ears. You roughly placed both your hands on his chest and pushed him back which made him stumble back just a little. You must’ve looked quite shocked because he softly laughed and backed up.

- Have you lost your mind? – you raised your voice. – What makes you think that I would ever agree to any sexual favor? You’re keeping me here against my will - I could never find you attractive!

Joel turned his back on you and went to lock the door. When that was done, he turned back towards you and smiled:

- I would make sure it’s very, very good for you, - his gaze slowly slid over you from head to toe. – You won’t be complaining nearly as much when you’re fucked out of your mind and cannot string a sentence together.

Even though you weren’t naive or inexperienced by any means, his crude words left your mouth wide open.

Did he think you were the type of person to have sex with your kidnapper?

For the first time ever, you had no words. You closed your mouth and opened it again. Then closed again. You wanted to take the old lamp on the nightstand and smash it against his head.

- The fuck do you... – you started. – What the...? Are you out of your mind?

Joel shrugged as if he didn’t care either way and turned towards the kitchen to start on dinner.

Your hand grabbed the lamp, and you threw in his direction without trying to hit anything or anyone in particular.

The lamp smashed against the kitchen wall and broke apart all over the stove and the floor.

You marched over to where Joel looked down at the broken lamp. Your hand reached out, you grabbed his shoulder and harshly turned him to face you.

- You will never ever touch me, - you spoke through your teeth. – And I will never ever agree to any deals with you. You’re disgusting to me.

Before you had a chance to step back, Joel’s hand shot out and grabbed your chin. He tilted your head back, pulled you against him and pressed his lips against yours.

In any other situation this type of kiss would be considered chaste. Virginal. A peck, really. No tongue. But this was Joel and, no matter how much you hated him for locking you up, he hadn’t hit you, he fed you and clothed you and in your fucked-up mind, that had experienced so much cruelty in this new world, he was very much still attractive both physically and emotionally.

Still, you gathered all of your strength and, placing your palms against his chest, tried to push him back. He didn’t budge an inch. Even more so, he pressed his hand on top of yours, as to make sure they stayed firmly pressed against his chest.

You turned your face to the side, roughly ending the kiss. He pressed his forehead against your temple and exhaled heavily.

- You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart, - he murmured. – The things I wanna do to you...

The kiss left your light-headed. And you hated yourself for it.

This was your captor. All you should feel for him should be pure hatred. Anger. Disappointment in the man who once had saved you just to lock you up in this place as if you were his pet. Who had taken control over every single decision in your life. He chose what you ate. What you wore. What you read. It was deeply disturbing. But not nearly as disturbing as the fact that, despite all of this, you still had sexual dreams involving him almost every night. Where he bent you over the spotless kitchen counter and demanded that you paid for all the trouble you’ve been costed him. Insisting that you repaid him for all the food, clothes and shelter he’s provided for you. Every night you went to bed angry and woke up dripping wet. And twice as angry.

- What would it take for you to let me go? – you asked, trying your best to pull off an innocent, naive look.

He looked down at you. His eyes were almost apologetic.

- You already know the terms, baby, - his raspy voice sounded pained. – Come back to Jackson with me. Play house with me. Let me take care of you. Let me provide for you.

When your unsure eyes met his, he wrapped his hand around the back of your neck and pulled you against his chest.

- We can have a good life together, you and I, - he promised. – Just allow me to be your man, and you’ll have everything you could ever dream of. Safety. A house of your own. Children, if you want them. A dog, if you don’t.

Did it sound promising? Sure. Still, you shook your head. Everything you knew was back at your old QZ. And, even though Joel had done more for you than anyone else in a really long time, you still didn’t trust him. His intensity scared you. His need for you terrified you.

Joel’s eyes darkened. His hands untangled themselves from your hair, and he stepped back. Then he just turned around as if nothing had happened and started to prepare dinner.

You felt so, so helpless.

Would it be easier for you to escape from Jackson than it was escaping from here? There was a possibility of you finding a person who would feel for you and eventually would let you leave the town. Maybe, if you could get to Joel’s brother and his wife and convince them to convince Joel-

- If I come with you to Jackson, will you leave me be? – you tried to reason with him. – Can I just come back with you and we part our ways? Can we just act as if nothing happened?

With his back still turned to you, Joel pulled out a carton of eggs, placed them carefully on the counter and then turned to face you, carefully folding up the paper bag.

He looked you over with a heated glance, as if trying to decide whether some quick oral is worth letting you go.

- No.

You wanted to smash something against his head.

- No? How the fuck would you even explain me coming back to Jackson to your brother? You told me that you-

- If you’re coming to Jackson, nothing changes, - he put the paper bag on the kitchen island and approached you. – You come back but you’re still provided for by me. Sleeping next to me. Living with me. You’re still mine. I’m just offering you a bigger house and an additional human interaction.

You were fuming.

- And if you’re really thinkin’ that my brother might make me change my mind and let you go, you clearly haven’t learned anything in this past week, - Joel reached you and looked down at you almost comfortingly, as if trying to deal with a very, very difficult toddler. – He has his own troubles and he won’t risk his new family over some girl he hasn’t even met yet.

When you didn’t speak, Joel added:

- Take it or leave it, - he shrugged. – To be fair, I prefer not to share you with anyone. To keep you locked up. All to myself.

When he turned to return to his dinner, you weighed out your options and quickly made a decision.

- Fine.

He looked genuinely surprised.

That was a first.

- What? – Joel couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

- I’ll go to Jackson with you if that’s what you want, - you straightened, trying to at least keep an illusion of you having the upper hand. – On one condition.

Joel’s lips pulled upward. He looked quite handsome when he smiled. And for the first time in a long time, he felt genuine happiness. Still, he looked amused when you demanded a condition of your own.

- Let’s hear it, baby, - he urged you, motioning with his index and middle fingers for you to approach him.

When you did, he put his hands behind his back, watching your angry face.

You lowered you voice almost to a whisper.

- If I succeed in escaping from Jackson, - you started, - because I will attempt to do so, I can promise you that, - your angry eyes were met with his terrifyingly dark ones, - if I succeed, you don’t look for me. You don’t come after me. You don’t chase me. You let me go.

Joel put on a show of considering it. When he nodded, seemingly accepting your terms and conditions, you exhaled with relief.

But then he leaned down and added:

- Good luck with it, though, - he chuckled against your temple. – I will be watching every step you take outside our home. You will be by my side every second of every day. And, if for whatever reason, I have to leave Jackson, you will be tied to my bed, a vibrator pushed all the way up in your cunt to the highest setting to the point where you won’t be able to stand up, - he placed a light kiss on your forehead in an almost loving manner, - let alone run.

You trembled with either terror or need and hated that you couldn’t decide which one was it.

- You won’t hate me when I come back to you at night, - he promised. – You will greet me like your god because only I will be able to stop your misery. Running away will be the last thought in your pretty little head when I’m done with you.

He took a step back.

- I’ve been good to you, letting you adapt, - his eyes shamelessly roamed all over your body. – But don’t ever assume I wouldn’t use your own body against you. I’ve let you preserve your dignity but, if you try to run, I will overstimulate you to the point where you will beg me to fuck you. Where you plead for me to take you and make you mine. To ravish you.

He had never spoken to you like this. He had always tried to mask his lust for you and had allowed for you to do the same.

- I don’t want you to hate yourself for wanting your keeper. Don’t you think it would be easier on you if you wanted your husband, your lover? Allow me to make you my wife and you can sleep easier at night for wanting this, - he motioned between the both of you. – For wanting me.

- I already said I’d come with you to Jackson. That’s all I can promise you right now.

He nodded in an almost understanding manner. As if deciding on giving you some time to come to your senses.

- Fine, it’s a deal, - he decided and then something dangerous flashed in his eyes. – Now strip.

In a world that had shocked you every step of the way, you were still taken aback.

- W-what?

- You heard me. I’m taking that oral we argued about a bit earlier, - you noticed Joel’s hands slightly trembling, as if he was approaching a priceless artefact and, for the first time, he had been given a permission to physically touch it.

Except, he hadn’t.

- What? No, - you backed away. – The whole purpose of this was for me to come back to Jackson! – you argued. – You didn’t ask anything for it!

He shrugged, still zeroing in on you with predator-like steps.

- That was before. I’ve changed my mind. Now I want something for my troubles.

For the first time, you thought of a possibility of needing to physically fight off Joel. And you knew you wouldn’t be able to do that. Your hand reached for a book that laid on the table, you pulled back and swung it across his face.

His face just slightly turned to the side and, when his eyes found yours again, the pupils were dilated to the point his eyes looked black.

Shit.

You made it worse.

- That’s it, baby, - he encouraged. – Try to fight me off. You have no idea how hard I get every time you’re violent.

- I’m not sucking your dick, bastard, - you threw the book away, deeming it to be pretty much useless. – I’ll bite it off if you make me do it!

For a split second, Joel looked clueless. Then he chuckled.

- I think there’s been a little bit of miscommunication, darling, - his hands found your hips and pushed you, making you sit down on the bed. – I don’t want you to suck my cock, baby. I don’t enjoy taking something that’s not freely given. I enjoy giving.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. He kneeled down in front of you, hands travelling up your hips. His long fingers started to untangle the messy knot you had tied in front of your sweatpants.

- I want to eat your pussy, baby, - a hand on your chest roughly pushed and held you down against the bed. – That’s what I demand for providing for you. That’s how you repay me for saving your life.

In what upside-down world were you in right now?

Since when did men consider giving being a prize to them?

Once he had gotten rid of your sweatpants, he hooked his fingers on the sides of your panties and pulled them down. When you tried to sit up and press your legs together, he shook his head, disappointed.

- Can’t have that, baby, - he tsked, placing a sloppy kiss against the inside of your thighs. – I want to fully enjoy myself and you’re getting in my way.

Next thing you felt was the coldness of the metal placed around your wrists.

He had handcuffed you!

Not paying any attention to your trashing, he cuffed your hands together and then cuffed both of them around the headboard of your bed. When you pulled against the cuffs, all he said was:

- Don’t hurt yourself, baby.

- YOU BASTARD! – you screamed. – YOU PROMISED! YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! YOU DON’T HAVE IT!

He reached somewhere next to him and picked up a piece of your clothing.

- I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE SO MISERABLE YOU’LL WISH YOU NEVER SAVED MY LI-

Those were the last words you uttered before he stuffed your panties in your mouth, effectively shutting you up.

You tried to kick him in his face but he easily caught your calf, placed a quick kiss on your knee and spread your legs.

As you had thought before, your strength and anger were nothing compared to his. His warm calloused palms wrapped around your upper thighs, keeping you in place as his mouth delved in between your legs with no hesitation.

The first initial swipe of his tongue was torturous. Your conflicting mind and body refused to acknowledge the immense pleasure both of them received. He purposefully tortured you with thoroughly enjoying you and making every lick as slow as he possibly could. His beard pressed against your inner thighs and you knew tomorrow there would be red marks left from it on the inside of your thighs.

You tried to withdraw by pulling your hips back towards the front of the bed but his fingers dug into your hips and pulled you firmly back against his mouth. And when you tried to close your legs, his hands wrapped around your thighs, holding them apart. Joel’s tongue dipped inside your hole, and you squeezed your eyes shut when the tip of his tongue touched something inside you, making black dots dance before your eyes.

Fuck you for making me feel this pleasure, you tried to talk with your panties still in your mouth, fuck you for making me feel wanted.

Joel’s nose accidentally brushed over your clit and you whimpered, making him laugh against your core.

- This is how you’re going to sound and look every night from now on, - he lifted his head to meet your eyes, his lips glistening in your arousal. – This is how you’re going to receive your man home, sweetheart. This is how you’re going to reward me for all the troubles I go through to provide for you. With your legs spread and your mouth shut like the obedient little girl I know you can be.

His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. Against every bone and wish in your body, you pressed against his mouth, trying to find some relief.

So, so close...

When you were balancing right on the edge of the abyss, Joel pulled back. A whine left your mouth against your better judgement, and tears pricked your eyes.

This week had left you in so much stress. You wanted this. You needed this. You had to have this.

His hand shot up and pulled the soaked material from your mouth.

- Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop... - you blabbed incoherently.

- Hey, baby, - his hand unwrapped from your thigh and grasped your chin to tilt your head towards him. – Beg me to make you come. Beg me to make you feel good, baby.

You tried to close your thighs to get some friction between them but Joel’s hands held them apart, making you suffer. The pressure was still there and it bordered with physical pain. You had to get some relief.

- Fine, - you nodded. – Fine! Please, please, make me come, Joel!

He leaned down towards your pussy and... softly blew air against your core.

When she twitched, Joel just looked up in amusement.

- I think she likes me, - he chuckled. – I think she knows who she belongs to.

- Just finish what you started, - you pleaded. – Please.

He tilted his head to the side, considering it.

- Tell me you want me, - he took a long swipe from your ass to your clit. – Tell me you’ll be a good little girl and let me take care of you.

- Fine, you can take care of me, - you panted. – Feed me and clothe me, and-

He sucked on your clit and you lost focus. And your ability to talk. Black dots danced before your eyes and your back bowed from the bed. He calmly ate you out through it, only removing his mouth once you had slumped back against the sheets.

- Good girl, - he whispered against your core and placed a kiss on your pussy lips. – Such a good, good girl for me.

You still tried to steady your breathing when he gently let go of your thighs and stood up. Towering over you, he reached to remove the handcuffs.

When your frightened eyes met his, Joel paused and leaned down to kiss you on the lips.

You could taste yourself on his them.

He placed his hand on your cheek in a lover-like manner, closed his eyes and rested his forehead against yours.

- You’ll learn to love me, - he promised both you and himself. – You’ll learn to love me eventually, sweetheart.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #the last of us #joel miller #imagine #the last of us imagine #tommy miller #maria miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader

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