#women are superior to m*n

[deus-ex-mona]

“is it really true that mona is the reason why asuna quit being an idol?”

w e l l. about that—

[balkanradfem]

To the other anon, I want to add that yes, you balkanradfem interpreted correct, I did not mean that no one should date bi women at all! And I do not mean to blime all of them either. I was trying to express that though for me as a woman, it was more painful when the man was chosen over me. When another woman is chosen over me, it feels different. Because you can't help but compare how is that other person better, if you still have a crush on the choosing party. And comparing myself with men is something I do not want to be doing. Also there are some things I can't compare with men at all, living in patriarchal society. I mean, hell, in my case women are banned from certain jobs and from studying certain things, men are treated completely different, like little princes. For sure I would be salty when my crush digs out another dude, whom she plans to dress up, clean up, teach manners and conversation skills (it sounds like i mock, but many women , most women in my area indeed re-parent men , it's how they see it, and do everything their mother did before, to a point where for 25 men his mom is washing and folding his socks and underwear and gf takes over it later), and work on building his career, so that she can push him to apply for work visa in wealthy western country, and go after as wife. I am quite understanding, that in such case, the woman indeed might chose this path over just marrying a girl. Even if I had chance in that same career as picked up husband, there are few women in that field, to get yourself promoted is very hard, and on top of it - two women can't marry where I live, and even if it's possible if you apply to western country court, provide major proof that you were really dating for long time and it's a visa scam, with photo and testimonies etc - even in that case, not all country where you might want to relocate will accept your partner being same sex. So with that in mind, as I am quite material person and I understand that women and men count such things first and foremost (or maybe it's simply my culture that material things are accounted in, because some 30 years ago you needed to try hard not to starve) -- with all that in mind, I understand, that woman need to have a very strong conviction to stay with me! In homophobic country, always hiding, not sure if relatives accept it, not sure if there are more laws disallowing you even speak about yourself etc, - in all honestly why would a woman choose it? When the path to be with man is so open and beneficial to her, and the system is specifically made that way? It's not that I blame women, maybe if I could tolerate men, I would make same choice. But I also think that many women here on tumblr, while rightfully being upset someone says bad words about bi women, also do not have an idea in mind how it is in places where het relationship gets you a lot of rights, and lesbian relationship makes you punished and in danger. You really need to have really strong mind and strong conviction of WHY exactly you are doing that, otherwise you just would not be able to withstand the stress, the social isolation, the pressure, etc. By my culture I also think people are malluable (both genders) and can be guided to certain things if want to avoid stress and suffering, it's not their fault.

Oh anon this was painful to read, not only are you forced to compare yourself to m*n but also you look from the womens point of view and try and understand why she made that choice! It's devastating for you to be exposed to that, even when all of the stuff you can't provide or do is just due to misogyny and oppression, none of your fault, nothing you can quickly change or even influence. And for that to be the reason for you to not be chosen by a woman! I'm crying for you. Nobody should be forced to feel like this.

I can also understand that when survival and possibility of starving is at stake, we humans turn off morality, we suppress our emotions and just do whatever to get to safety, security, food. We need to be comfortable in our survival before we can folllow morals and desires. But then also for me as a lesbian life with a male feels like worse than dying, and I don't know if other lesbians relate, but I can guess that for women with attraction to males, this would feel different, and on top of that societal pressure would play a role too, and make us look like a worse option. But is it then on us to prove that we're not?? No. If others cannot fathom our value in joint life may they live in ignorance.

I remember as a much younger lesbian I struggled with that comparison; I would look at a woman and think 'but what can I give her that would make me comparable' and give up instantly, feeling unworthy and unlovable in comparison to males. That was before I discovered radical feminism and the facts that they're statistically the biggest danger to have in your home, that they engage in manipulation, labour extraction, and covert rape consistently and don't view women as human, I felt superior since. But again, if you are a woman who is not as informed, traumatized by starvation, and just looking for material safety, swayed by societal pressure, I understand that the world is a bad place for you and you just go for lesser evil you can tolerate. But does this mean you have to hurt a lesbian in the process??? No.

I do feel like a certain amount of dishonesty and ignorance of lesbian experiences is necessary in order to cause such pain and make lesbians compare themselves and feel inferior. If everyone was honest, we would not indulge with women we know to value male benefits better. We can offer equality, emotional fulfillment, intimacy, pleasure, share everything equally instead of extracting labour, bonding over same life experience and oppression, understanding of their bodies and their feelings of them, and we often work twice as hard to keep our beloved safe and sound, and not because we think she's our property. We're twice as intelligent, logical, resourceful, thoughtful, careful, considerate and kind, we are complex, sharp and quick to follow her mind, we're social, inclined to think of future for everyone and not just us. We don't ask to be parented. We have everything males could not ever hope to grasp and yet because they have violence, they get to hoard icome and resources and laws to their benefit to lure women into becoming domestic servants.

It's insulting to us! We could be incredible and magical and they can hold a threat of starvation over womens heads and suddenly we're not worth choosing. It's a lie, a scam, trickery, injustice, pyramid scheme, conspiration, deceit, psychological violence.

Anon you are worth choosing every time and don't let them fool you into thinking their systems are normal. And you are right to speak out, everyone should know how devastating this is, and to not do it to us. I had experiences where I felt this and was too scared to speak out, to not make anyone feel bad. But we feel bad and we should say it!! And it is fair for us too, to want to avoid stress and suffering, and choose only those who understand where we're coming from and value us first, like we value them first as well.

[lis-likes-fics]

A Night to Remember

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader Word Count: 5k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, oral sex (f!receiving, implied m!receiving), praise kink, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, language, slight dumbification (if you blink, you'll miss it), creampie, slight dirty talk/degradation (if you blink, you'll miss it), Elijah's species unspecified... A/N: This was originally called "Bad Habits Lead to You" bc I was writing it around the song by Ed Sheeran, but I changed my mind cuz I liked this more. ALso, I have not written for Elijah in forever, so this made me really happy to write. Nevermind that I started writing this in October 2022. Thanks and enjoy!

Your plum dress was tight against your skin. It was something you knew he'd enjoy, a dress you'd chosen specifically to please the man you were practically praying would arrive as you fingered the jewels of the fancy necklace around your neck. It was heavy, thoroughly bedazzled and way too expensive for anything you could ever afford. A gift from the gentleman himself.

Many faces were shrouded from view by masks of simple and extravagant designs of all kinds. Yours, like your necklace, was worth its weight in gold and more; another gift. Flitting through the party, grins and smirks were sent your way from men and women alike. Some were admiring, some hungry, others were strewn onto faces out of envy.

That envy would grow when they find who was coupled with this goddess in purple and gold. You spotted him at the center of the mezzanine, looking down at all the guests like he was the king of his own personal kingdom through the eyes of his mask, one that paired with your own. The look in his eyes certainly conveyed that superiority, lighting a match that lived in the pit of your stomach and between your thighs as you stared up at him with an adoring gaze.

He had already been watching you, a dark hunger taking you in. You made your way toward him, stepping up each marble stair to reach this man who decked you out like a queen. He was reaching out for your hand before you reached the top step, taking it and bending down to place a kiss to the back of your palm. “My dear,” he greeted affectionately.

Goosebumps shivered up your arm and into your bloodstream. Your body threatened to follow suit as you watched him handle you with such…care. “Elijah,” you responded.

“Would you care to dance?” He straightened his back, even took a small step closer and eliminated the personal space that had already been demolished the first moment you saw this adonis of a man.

You breathed a quiet breath at his question, “A gentleman, as always.” As always. You said it as though you’d known him for more than simply a week. In truth, Elijah was a fling. You’d met him a week prior, caught up in all of his grace and eloquence as he swept you across the dance floor of the extended masquerade ball and then into his arms to take you to bed.

It wasn’t normally like you, to be so taken by some stranger enough to sleep with him that same night. And then to sleep with him the next night, and the night after that, and so on, and so forth. But there was something about Elijah, something so captivating that you could not quite place.

As he swept you to the dance floor for yet another seductive venture across the marble, you accepted with little more than a simple nod.

And then, when he pressed you against a wall in a darkened nook in the large mansion of a home, you gasped into the unusually warm air of the late autumn night as his hot lips pressed to the heated skin of your chest and he devoured you.

Last night was supposed to be the last time, and the night before that, and the night before that. He was like some drug that you had all too quickly become addicted to—and with a face like that, how could you not?

You knew you shouldn't. At the very least, you should try not to. It was not as though he was the perfect man. No, your perfect man would still be there when you woke in the morning with aching limbs, a souvenir, and cold sheets that barely held enough warmth to convince you his departure was recent.

Your perfect man would not grant you a collection of late nights full of pleasure and desire ending alone in the morning with a handwritten note and a new little gift.

Or, perhaps, he was doing you a service. Showing you how impermanent this arrangement was—how impermanent it should be. If only you would listen, take his flight for what it was: a warning.

But as his warm lips slotted perfectly against the column of your throat, leaving you gasping and clawing at his strong arms, you knew once again that your lesson was not learned. He dipped down and secured your leg in his steel grip, brushing it up his side to rest along his hip. He pressed himself closer to your body and returned his lips to your own. He pulled back for a moment, towering over you as he stared with those dark, predatory eyes: a lure, a trap. “Would you like to carry this somewhere more intimate?”

There were two responses waiting on your tongue. A less sensible one, “What's the need? Let them hear us.” And a more sensible one, “Yes, I want you all to myself.”

The only reason the latter was more sensible was because it gave you the option of containing your ardor so you could speak sensibly. Hardly any sober words were exchanged when you were in the throes of intoxicating passion with this man. And there was a reason you came here tonight…

Other than your endless desire to find your body melding with his own, an entanglement of limbs and complicated emotions.

“Yes,” you whispered. “Let’s go.”

He carefully released your leg with a wolfish grin, readjusting your appearances so you didn’t look as frazzled as you were. One quick kiss to your lips and he was walking with you back into the crowds of the masquerade ball.

Dancing through the crowd was easy, getting out of the door was easy, getting into his car was easy. The hard part came when you were driving away in the silence of his sleek Mercedes-Benz.

“Elijah,” you found your voice, fiddling with your fingers as you tried to organize your thoughts. He glanced at you before returning his gaze to the road. He hummed deeply in his throat, and you cleared yours, turning your gaze on him and smiling to shield the nerves. “Why did you choose me? Of all the women you could have taken home that first night, the second, the third, all of it, why did you choose me?”

It had confused you since you first met at the beginning of the ball. Was he bored? Were you convenient? Just the first person he laid eyes on? Why you?

His gaze flitted between you and the road as his lips twitched. He licked his bottom lip slowly, shifting his hand to rest atop your own. He squeezed it gently. "You intrigue me."

"I intrigue you?" you echoed, tilting your head.

He nodded. "You're beautiful, you're clever, and you're asking the right questions."

You blinked, glancing away for a moment before looking back again. "I'm asking the questions?" You hated that you couldn't find your own words right then, you couldn't come up with a response (which led you to debate the cleverness he claimed you had).

His gaze lingered a little longer on you than it probably should have. "If I'd picked the wrong woman, she would continue our exploits with no regard for her own self-worth. She'd be content with being just another woman in my sheets."

"A whore?" you quirked a brow and smirked playfully. His smile grew and he shrugged, but did not confirm the choice of words you so elegantly put forth.

You sat back and felt the smile on your face shift slightly into a look of contemplation. "So I wasn't just easy?"

He shook his head, this time with a little chuckle. "Of course not." He leaned into your ear, and a shiver rushed through your spine at the closeness. "I don't like easy."

The sensibility was gone, and the arousal had returned as he pulled into the lot of his home. He rounded the car and came to your side, opening your door and offering his hand. Stepping out, your eyes locked as you rose to your feet, entirely invading the personal space which had stopped existing.

Your lips were inches apart as you lingered there before brushing past him and walking ahead toward the house. He followed behind you, for once leaving him mystified instead of you. You walked on toward the house, dimly lit and awaiting your company, until he was coming up behind you with his arms around your waist. He wrapped you up and carried you inside like a bride—no, not a bride. You can't even consider it in that way, lest you make the biggest mistake of your life.

He opened the door and listened to your giddy excitement as he smiled at you all the way up the expanse of the stairs. The way he burst through his bedroom door and dropped you onto the bed rivaled his gentlemanly behavior over the course of the past few days.

He kicked the door closed with his foot and stalked toward you, depraved and bloodthirsty. You'd been in this position before, staring up at him with hooded eyes. He discarded his blazer, looming over your body and ravaging your lips. His hands held you close to him as he dragged the zipper of your dress down along your back.

You gasped into his kiss, sloppy and without care to the intricate details of intimacy. You pressed your palms against his sides and pulled him closer to you. As his large hand cupped your throat, your back arched into him and his kisses lapped along your jaw. Shallow breaths fanned along your skin, and you welcomed it with short sighs.

You raised a hand against his chest, your fingers danced along his collarbone. Pushing him back, he sat on his knees as you followed, chasing his lips. You flattened your hand along the side of his neck, guiding him onto his back so you could straddle him. Your movement was slow and measured, taking one thing at a time to prolong your evening together as long as possible.

Your lips molded together once more, your hips moving to a slow grind. His eyes never left yours, a guile intimacy that urged your fervor to moan-filled kisses that set your skin ablaze. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your hips onto his. Your eyes shut as a delicate sigh passed your lips, your hands grasping onto his shoulders for support as he rocked you back and forth atop him.

“Don’t stop,” you whispered, addicted to the feel of him touching your body. One of your hands moved to sit atop his own, holding him as you ground your hips. He watched you move with lidded eyes as your head fell back and your lips parted in a lustful ‘O’.

His hands trailed up your body and under the fabric half-forgotten on you until he was surrounding your chest, leaning forward just enough to allow you to sit in his lap as your dress rode up higher and higher along your thighs and hung around your shoulders. Despite his determination to undress you until you were bare before him, he wanted to take his time ravaging your body. Soon your dress was discarded and you were left in nothing but the lingerie that had been sitting idly by in your closet until this night.

He looked up at you with a smirk, teasing, “All for me?”

You scoffed, shaking your head at him with a playful laugh, “No, for the doorman at the party.”

He rolled his eyes a little. “Well, the doorman is fired.” You laughed and he silenced you with his lips upon your chest. You bared your neck for him, sighing gently as your hands played with the fabric of his expensive bowtie.

You attacked his lips as you did your best to fumble for the buttons of his shirt. They twisted and slipped from your fingers, and your patience had run out before long to send what felt like a million buttons shooting from his shirt and all around you. Your hands roamed the expanse of his broad chest, pressing your fingertips into his flesh. “Such an impatient creature,” he hummed.

“Shut up,” you sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him to your lips again. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you pulled his body flush against yours, your tongue slipping into his mouth as his own joined in. Your hands shifted from his neck to his chest as you felt his warm skin beneath your palms. You huffed as you allowed your hips to grind down on him again, pulling a wavering moan from your throat and making you sound deliciously pathetic.

“I need you,” you whimpered against his lips, opening your eyes to grant him that needy look that you hoped would get you what you wanted.

He just smiled, as though he could read your mind. “Patience, my dear.” He shifted upon the bed so he was closer to the headboard as he began to lean forward, holding you to his body as he moved to lay you on the bed. You lay back with shallow breath, staring up at him as he gazed back, never breaking eye contact for a moment as he adjusted himself to tower over you.

He leaned in and you bared your neck to him again as he pressed a kiss to your throat, right on top where the muscles shifted as you moaned. He hummed deep in his own throat, his lips caressing your skin as he took his time with you. You held your breath when the tip of his tongue dragged along your skin from the bottom to the top as he traced a vein thumping there. You whispered his name and he rewarded you with the press of his knee into your needy core, just barely reaching your clit enough to make you sigh again.

His lips trailed along your body, spending too much time on every little patch of skin he could find as he traveled down, down, down. He pulled your legs over his shoulders, pressed his kisses into your thighs, and you whimpered when his teeth teased the flesh he grazed. He stared you in the eyes as he did it, moving closer to where you burned for him until his lips found your clit. You sighed gently at the feeling, but you were swiftly interrupted as it didn't last.

He dove into you, his lips and tongue and teeth attacking you. From here, with the way his hair fell over his forehead and his eyes grew dark and primal, he looked like a predator. His name stuttered from your lips, dropping the first letter as you gasp at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your pussy. His fingers dig into your thighs, his lips suck on your clit, his tongue licks into you. Your back arches off the bed and your fingers tangle in his hair. You can't help your whimper as he pleasures you, an expert, it seems, in everything he does.

He moaned into you, sending shivers up your spine as you tugged on his hair. His tongue flicked insistently at your clit, eager to taste you again as you whimpered deliciously.

The sound broke when his fingers prodded at your pussy, slipping the tips of them into your warmth and slowly working them deeper and deeper. Once buried inside of you, he thrusts them slowly at first, in and out and in and out, playing you like an instrument as he curls and pumps his fingers. His slow pace never lasted as he built you to the top, wanting so badly to watch you shatter with your release.

You cursed under your breath, feeling a knot in your belly as you clenched down around his fingers, your clit pulsing against his tongue. "I'm so close," you whimper, grinding urgently against his face.

He was so in tune with your body by now. It took past lovers so long to learn your stops and goes, what makes you tick, what makes you scream. You had known Elijah a week, and he had mastered it.

As the pleasure twisted in your gut and your chest filled with air, you could feel your release taunting you. You whispered his name just as you were about to come.

And Elijah pulled away.

The frustration built quickly in the pit of your stomach, and you clenched the bedsheets and your jaw flexed. You could feel your pleasure retreating like waves after they've licked the shore, spoiling inside of you. Elijah's lips found yours again, smirking against them as you reluctantly kissed him back, angry but still not immune to his charm.

"Fuck you," you breathed against his lips.

He shrugged a shoulder. "I'd rather fuck you."

You rolled your eyes, interrupted by his lips once more, his tongue licking into your mouth. He wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling them tight as he supported you to straddle his lap. His hands grabbed your ass, squeezing and smacking the flesh once. You yelped, your foreheads meeting as you breathed the other's air.

"Please, Elijah," you begged, too desperate to be shy, too enraptured in his skill to be ashamed.

His hand smoothed along your cheek, fingers tangling in your hair to move it back and away from your face. "What do you want, hm?" he hummed. "Tell me what you want, my dear."

You carded your fingers through his hair and sighed longingly. Between kisses, you whispered, "Fuck me. Like you did the first night." You braced your hands around the back of his neck, opening your eyes to look at the dark coffee brown of his own. "If this is my last night with you, I want to make it count."

His breath slowed for a moment as his eyes trailed over your face, like he only just now realized tonight would be the last night and he wanted to really look at you before he never saw you again. Yours did the same. This was the last night.

The moment, full of more intimacy than a couple of one week should be capable of, passed with only a few seconds more than there should have been. He took your hips in his palms, kneaded the flesh, and pulled you into a slow kiss just as desperate as the ones before.

A new passion took you as he rolled your hips in his lap, grinding your wet pussy along his dark slacks, ruining them for future wear as your arousal smeared all over the fabric. He didn't seem to care, especially not with the way he moved your hips to ruin them some more. You only paused his hands when you lifted one leg from their position on either side of him to begin undoing his slacks, slipping them down his legs until they were entirely discarded. Crawling back into his lap and taking his beautiful cock in your hand with an enthusiasm that made him chuckle, you stroked the thick length of him in your palm, up and down and up and down, as beads of precum slipped from the weeping tip and dribbled down the side of him.

"Fuck," he cursed with his forehead against yours, leaning his head to fall onto your shoulder as you moved your wet palm to a steady rhythm along his hard cock. "Look at what you do to me."

You moaned at his praise, working your fist faster until he suddenly grabbed your wrist to stop you. He gave you a hard, dark stare before lifting your waist. As you sat up on your knees, feeling the hard tip of him tapping against your slit, you bit your lip to contain your moan.

He lifted your chin to look at him, his eyes boring into your own as that silent question urged an answer. Do you want this? For the last time, do you want this?

No, you thought to yourself, flattening your palm against his chest. Not for the last time.

"Please, Lijah," you whispered. "Fuck, I need you. I want you."

Taking your hips, he lowered you into his lap, his eyes fluttering and his jaw clenching as he groaned deep on his throat, letting his head fall back to savor the moment. You moaned, feeling yourself flutter around his cock as you took him into your tight pussy. You whimpered his name through trembling lips, laying your head against his shoulder.

"Good girl," he breathed in a strained manner, his hands roaming your body as he felt you clench around him. Your lips pressed to his neck, your tongue tracing over a vein there, as you slowly rocked your hips on top of him. He groaned roughly as you did.

Slowly, your bodies built a rhythm, a steady pace setting as you moved in tandem, thriving off the other's lust as you grabbed and felt and moaned and kissed. The intimacy licked at your skin and sunk into your bones, coating you in lust thick and sweet like honey. It pulsed and pumped through your veins like blood, your very life force shifting to depend on his tenderness.

You bounced in his laps with a level of excitement that mirrored the pleasure on your face. His breath was heavy in your ear as he thrust his hips up to meet the roll of your hips to the best of his ability. As the desperation to feel you, to hear you, filled his blood, he wrapped his arms around you, engulfing you to pull your body flush against his own. He laid you once more on your back, reseating himself inside of you as one hand gripped your waist and the other propped himself up beside your head.

Easing some hair from your face, he pressed his lips to the underside of your jaw, right above a pressure point that made you choke, and began to move his hips in a steady rhythm. In and out and in and out and filling to the brim. Your breath was heavy in your lungs and your hands draped off his shoulders as he pumped his cock into you. He watched you whimper as your body bounced up and down in time with his thrusts, your breasts doing the same in their own dance as he brought a hand to grope them.

Again, his name slipped off your tongue as you gripped his waist, guiding his thrusts lazily. The soft sheets of the bed caressed your skin, his hands grabbed at you, his lips switched between licking, kissing, and speaking into your flesh.

Then, as he braced his arms at either side of your head, he steadied himself with the darkest look in his eyes. You choked on your own breath as his hips snapped into yours, a rough moan forcing from your throat as you grabbed at any skin you could find. His thrusts continued in the same manner, fast and rough as the tip of his cock knocked against the deepest part of you with every thrust.

You were needy, grinding your hips up to meet each powerful thrust as you moaned and whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut, intent on satisfying your desperation for relief.

"Look at you," he sighed. "Beautiful."

You whimpered, especially as his hands slid across your skin and hooked underneath your thighs. pulling them over his shoulders, he held them there as he leaned forward to fold you in half. The new angle sent a whole new array of emotions through you, your entire body tingling at the sensations he filled you with.

"Mmph, Lijah," you gasped.

His thrusts continued; hips snapping, fingers grasping, lips parting against a shuddering breath. "Say it again," he demanded, his voice thick as his words dripped like honey onto your skin.

You didn't respond, your trembling moan squealing in your throat and your eyes squeezing shut, too far away to properly heed his command. He pressed a hand to your cheek, lightly gripping your face and turning you to look at him, noticing the way your eyes droop.

"Come on," he urged darkly. "Say it again. My name. Come on, say it. You can do it." He spoke through heavy breaths and broken groans, bending down to even take your bottom lip between his teeth just to give his mouth something to do as he stared at your fucked out face.

You stuttered it out. "Lijah," you begged. "Elijah, please."

He was weak at your whimpers, his hips jerking slightly in the middle of a particularly rough thrust. "Please what? Tell me what you want, my dear."

Your answer was delayed—and for a moment, he thought he'd fucked you dumb (which was only partially true). "Please, harder. Lemme cum, I needa cum."

He held you tighter, his eagerness to feel you cum around him, your cunt already squeezing him so well, making him crazy. "You want to cum on my cock, dirty girl?"

"Yes!" you exclaimed. "Yes, please, Elijah."

He wanted to prolong this just a little while longer, loving the way you struggled to hold his gaze as the pleasure urged you to squeeze your eyes shut and grip him tighter. He loved the way your arms held his neck, he loved the way your legs twitched on his shoulders, he loved the sounds your cunt made on each impact of his hips, he loved the taste of your skin on his tongue, he loved the way your pussy fluttered around his cock, he loved the way your perfume wafted gently against his face, he loved the way you looked bouncing up and down with each rock of his hips.

His hand snaked between both of your bodies, the stickiness of your body, coming from both the arousal smearing all over your skin and his and the sweat building from the exertion of the pleasure. His thumb found your clit, rubbing circles into the bud with a dexterity that had you moaning loudly. The sensations sparked all along your body, filling you up bit by bit with the heat of his intimacy.

The rhythm of your bodies persisted, working together in perfect harmony, chasing both releases like your lives depended on it. "Elijah," his name fell off your lips like a prayer, praising him like a god meant to be worshiped.

"Again," he breathed, his tone growing darker and darker the closer each of you got to that point of pure ecstasy. "Say my name again."

"Elijah."

"Again."

"Elijah!"

"Say it again."

"Eli–!" You stuttered on the word, your breath catching in your throat as the pleasure suddenly hit you. It exploded in your belly and warmed your whole being as your muscles tightened around him. You moaned and gasped as your cunt clenched down around his pulsing cock, feeling your legs tremble and your breath shudder before kicking into a hyperventilation of a release. His cock twitched inside of you, the squeeze of your cunt too much as he continued to thrust into you, fucking you through your release as your vision went white and your ears rang.

"Fuck, I'm cumming," you announced when your lips could form the word, biting your lip so hard in reaction to your orgasm that you draw blood. A symphony of moaned "yes's" fell from your mouth as you felt the pleasure waning.

Elijah's hips jerked before you felt the hot release of him inside of you, a deep groan scratching in his throat as he buried himself deeply inside of you, as deep as he'd go. He rolled his hips as he came, his breath heavy and filled lust as he let himself succumb to your pleasure.

You whined as his cock pressed against the deepest part of you even after the oversensitivity has taken over and the feeling of him aches so well inside of you. "Elijah," you mewl.

It took a while before you both returned to the ground, easing out of your clouded pleasure. Your breaths mingled as you caught them.

As your hearts slowed and your muscles became so wonderfully loosened, he slipped out of you with a regretful sigh. You laid back against the bed, lazy and spent. His lips captured your own once more, molding in a lax embrace. His mouth slipped down your jaw and toward your neck, placing a kiss there and then easing farther down to your soft shoulder.

He eased off of you, rolling onto his side and pulling an arm over your midsection. He pulled you closer to him, sighing gently as his breath fanned over your skin.

You rolled your head over to him, smiling softly. He returned the smile. "You did wonderfully, my dear," he whispered.

Instead of responding, you leaned over and kissed his soft lips again. "So did you," you said.

You laid there and stared at one another, a longing gaze passing between the both of you as the reality of this being the last night sunk in. He would be gone tomorrow.

Your smile fell slowly and you sighed. "I don't want you to leave."

He smiled sadly. "Will you miss me?"

"I'll miss the mind-blowing sex," you smirked. He chuckled and rolled his eyes, finding it funnier than he probably should have. You laughed with him. As the giggles subsided, you frowned again, nodding. "Yes. I'm gonna miss you."

You stared again. His eyes were so beautiful. That tiny mole on the left side of his cheek was handsome. His chin dimple, alluring. You raised a hand to brush his stubbled face. He covered your hand with his. You kissed him again.

"I'm going to miss you, too."

You licked your bottom lip. You leaned forward. "So let's make this night one to remember."

"Again?" he laughed. "Are you not satisfied?"

You smiled, "Not enough to leave it at that." You kissed his lips once more before wandering down his chest, moving to straddle his body. You kissed down his body as he sighed deeply, a tiny groan leaving his chest. As your lips brushed the delectable space of his V-line, he groaned.

A night to remember.

Always and Forever taglist: @avala-moon​ @xxwritemeastoryxx @melodiclovesong @katsukis1wife @thebrotherssalvatore321 @strangerliaa @njeancastro316 @thelastpyle @lovelyy-moonlight @hb8301 @athena-royal @alexxavicry @hellfire1986baby @dumb-fawkin-bitch @papichulo120627 @the-nerdy-goddess Suit and Staglist:​​ @deviously-innocent @wanniiieeee @brandyovereager @starkleila @amythedoctor @slytherinlyn16 @anastacia1705 @sugakookieswithacupoftae16 @anotherblackreader Tag yourself here...

[mybworlds]

Chapter 1

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… so here we are… I am very excited and nervous to write about this story 'cause I really care 'bout it. 🙏 I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. If you want to follow my new fanfiction, I appreciate it 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

If there's one thing you really can't stand it's Monday mornings, not finding coffee on your desk in the office, not being able to catch a criminal after a long investigation that has taken you so much time and energy, you are in the office and you persistently look at the documentation related to Alvaro Monteiro, also known as 'El Diablo,' a drug dealer known in South America but also in half of the European countries, now also infamous for exploitation of prostitution and organ trafficking in countries like Mexico and Argentina.

You shake your head trying to bring order to the few testimonies about his movements, sightings, and the last deals he conducted; those who could really talk are afraid for their relatives and their own lives; those who talk more are found with a bullet in their head somewhere.

You hold your head in your hands watching the faces of all the young women, men and even children caught up in this so far endless trail of blood and death. You don't know when you will arrest Monteiro, but you know one thing for sure, you will not let up until you catch him. They wouldn't call you Bulldog like that.

Everyone whispers this nickname of yours because of your determination at work and then because, if you start pursuing a case, it becomes your priority even over your own life. None of your colleagues, however, has ever dared to openly call you that. With the exception of your insufferable colleague Javier Peña.

Speaking of him, he's a huge pain in the ass, a huge Don Juan who is convinced he can have everyone at his feet with that grin and his dark eyes always ready to look seductively at anyone who comes his way. He even hit on you once, but you told him everything you thought about him, about his absurd ways of getting information about investigations, about how he slept with half the office and all of them, even though they had been dumped by him, kept kissing the ground he walked on!

That's crazy.

By the way, here he comes into the office, agent Peña, hair perfectly coiffed, glasses on his nose, winking smile, and everyone looking at him dreamily, you roll your eyes and shake your head to go back to looking at the Monteiro dossier.

"Good mornin'." he greets you in a detached tone.

By the way, you and Peña can't stand each other. Not because you stood him up, or maybe even because of that, but because both of you were engaged on the Monteiro case a couple of years earlier. You each had your own method of investigation, as you do now for that matter, and you ended up pointing a gun at each other losing your target and then blaming each other in front of your boss. Your boss removed you from the case.

From that moment on, Peña treats you frostily, if he has to spite you he does, if he has to tell you a nasty thing he tells you, he doesn't think twice about it, if he has any news he keeps it to himself and reports it to your superior making you look like an amateur always bent over papers and little in action.

"Good mornin', Agent Peña," you greet him in the same tone.

Within a year of being removed from the case, however, Peña continued to keep his female informants - mostly prostitutes - on the alert about all that might be his movements, you for your part have always kept an eye on money movements and possible strange transfers from American to Mexican banks and vice versa, all of which led your boss to reassign both of you the case, making you promise to cooperate and share any information that either of you might obtain. Collaboration that has not happened so far, however, not entirely, at least.

Peña lays his palms on the documentation you were sifting through forcing you to look up at him, looking at you insistently with his huge dark eyes with the expression of someone who is studying someone intensely.

You sigh, "What do you want?" you ask him.

"Just to inform you," he replies.

You lean your back against the chair and raise your eyebrows as if to invite him to continue, you cross your arms "That would be news!" you exclaim in an icy tone "I'm all ears."

"Monteiro has been spotted in Paloma Beach, France."

You widen your eyes, spreading your lips wide, he smiles in that annoyed grin.

"Peña. Speak up. Now." you tell him, looking him straight in the eye.

He leans against the desk "I'm glad to have your attention," he says crossing his arms in a satisfied expression of someone who got to a race first "I thought you were too focused on staring at the paper…"

"Peña, you have my attention and if you don't talk right now I'm going to kick your ass and throw you out of my office!" you threaten him in an icy tone "So?"

He sighs, "Always in a good mood, I see!"

"Always a stupid and misplaced sarcasm," you retort using the same tone.

"Whatever," he says showing a green folder in his hands "Monteiro has been spotted in France, in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat." he's telling you, because you're too eager to read news about the narco-trafficker, you get up from your chair and make to pull the clipboard away from him, but he's faster than you and pulls it away from your reach. You almost end up against him, you're within an arm's length of his angular nose and those dark pools, you both immediately retreat. He clears his throat and then resumes, "I was saying, Monteiro has been spotted there and according to this informant of mine he will be there for the next few summer months."

"When would the informant have told you these things?" you ask him raising an eyebrow.

"Does it matter?" he asks you raising an eyebrow as well.

No, not really considering how she must have gotten this information. You don't want to hear him say it, you are bothered by this display of how able he's to get his informants to talk and get comfortable and then get them to confess what he wants to know. No, thank you.

"Have you told Diáz yet?" you ask him, furrowing your brow.

"Claro." he answers you raising his eyebrows with a satisfied air.

"Cabrón." you answer him curtly.

You don't speak Spanish, but obviously living in those parts of South America you had to learn and especially you had to learn how to respond in tone to Peña's exclamations who likes to retort punctually in Spanish. In the early days he was doing it on purpose to retort in Spanish having realized you didn't understand Spanish and who knows how many he must have said to you and you didn't even understand them, but from the moment you started studying Spanish, you started responding in tone leaving him surprised in the early days, then it became a habit of yours to retort on each other with Spanish barbs.

"Muy bien, shall we go?" he asks you.

"Where?"

"Diáz of course! Did you have your coffee this morning, agent?" he asks as he gets up from your desk and adjusts his dark pants.

"And did you ever go to sleep?" you ask him making to head for the door. He does before you, however, and opens the door for you, then makes a hand gesture at which you roll your eyes and snort.

"Let it not be said that agent Peña is not a gentleman!" he exclaims.

"You're supposed to be a gentleman with all the poor girls you screw and then quit!" you exclaim. You just can't stand it, you can't help it.

Diáz is your boss, a man of about fifty, sturdy build, graying hair, big eyes with thick lenses on his nose, he wants everything to work perfectly in his department.

"Sir." you say as you enter his office.

"Sir." Peña greets as he enters the office closing the door "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, thank you for coming, agents. I know you are both involved in the Monteiro case and as we know Monteiro has now become a world class criminal. I am in contact with departments in other countries and it's been confirmed that he is in France." he pauses "Do you speak French?"

You wrinkle your forehead, "Sir?"

"I need two agents - you -" he says pointing at both of you "to go there in the field in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat to investigate undercover."

"Sir, with all due respect," you continue "but this is perhaps a CIA job-- we-- we are just DEA agents." you state externalizing your concern "We don't have the proper training to…"

"Agent," Diáz resumes, "I understand your fear, but the Monteiro case has become important to all of us. Monteiro could be in France today, the day after he disappeared from circulation again, it's too important for us to catch him."

You watch Peña in the hope of getting his support, but you see him thoughtfully "They will find out right away that we are agents, they might-" you are about to say they might kill you right away or torture you to figure out what you know and then kill you, but it's Peña who interrupts your stream of thought "When are we going to get him?"

Diáz smiles, "Have a seat, now I will explain everything."

Diáz explains to you in hand that you will not be completely alone, there will be CIA men who will be ready to intervene if you deem it necessary. He also explains to you that you will change your names, you will be Blanca Torres and Peña will be Diego Torres, and the role you will have to play. Diáz explains to you you will be two newlyweds on honeymoon ready to enjoy the sea, the sun, but your true goal will be to approach Monteiro and try to understand his plans and catch him.

"Todo claro? " asks your superior.

"Si." replies Peña.

"Está bien, aquí están sus pasaportes. Nadie te hará preguntas en el aeropuerto, pero sé discreto." continues Diáz in Spanish.

"¿Cuándo nos iremos?" you ask him not at all enthusiastically.

"In two days, just enough time to get the final paperwork in order. Needless to say, be discreet, don't ask too many questions around and play smart." he tells you again "Remember your roles and you won't fail." he adds taking your leave.

When Peña closes the office door behind him, you throw yourself into your chair with a despondent air "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" he asks you crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.

"Peña, you and I can't stand each other and now we have to pretend to be husband and wife, I don't know if you got that!" you exclaim nervously.

"Sure, Blanca. Or would you prefer, amor?" he asks smiling at you with that slapping face of him.

You roll your eyes; you don't know how you're going to stand him! You hope to catch Monteiro in a few days and put an end to that charade as soon as possible.

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know, if you liked this first part, leave a comment, like or reblog, if you didn't like it, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

[kolbisneat]

MONTHLY MEDIA: July 2024

I read a lot more than I was expecting this month but I ain't complaining. Here's how I spent the month of July!

……….FILM……….

Evil Dead II (1987) Didn't love Evil Dead (not that it's not good, I just get too spooked by straight horror) but had no idea that this would be what it is. Puppets and stop motion! Looney Tune antics! Magic with rules! This is my kinda movie and I'm baffled the modern films in the franchise don't try for this sort of energy.

Poor Things (2003) It took a while for me to settle into this, but around the time Dafoe's Godwin explains Bella's condition, I was all in. It's a dreamlike movie with dreamlike logic so despite some of the discourse I tried not to take too much of it literally. Beautiful and far funnier than I expected.

……….TELEVISION……….

Columbo (Episode 1.04 to 1.07) Gosh I love the era of television where each episode was self-contained. Episode 7 features Columbo smoking in a doctor's office and I was not at all expecting him to comment on the dangers of tobacco, but he did! I notice this first season only had a handful of episodes with the classic "oh one more thing" schtick so I'm curious if that pops up more in later seasons.

Scavenger's Reign (Episode 1.01 to 1.12) This is a show where I sit down, turn it on, and while the beautiful opening credits play, think, "I wonder what horrifying imagery is gonna f*** me up this episode?" The animation and design are sooooooo good that it made up for the occasionally baffling writing. Please go watch it so a second season can get greenlit.

Bridgerton (Episode 3.05 to 3.08) I missed a few eps there in the middle but it all worked. That final party, and all that went with it (the speech, the bugs, the reveal of who paid for it) was 10/10. Good stuff.

……….YOUTUBE……….

Yoko and The Beatles by Lindsay Ellis Yoko Ono didn't break up the Beatles. And while this video essay expands on the factors that DID split up the band, it's also a really great dive into the weight of fame and the weight of fame on women. VIDEO

Was starting a product business a mistake? by Simone Giertz An honest and detailed insight into the dream vs. reality of small business and internet fame. Looks like it's going to be a full series and I'm looking forward to more. VIDEO

……….READING……….

N or M by Agatha Christie (Complete) Spy Thriller set during the Second World War? With a husband/wife spy duo? Oh heck yeah. Sometimes I find the clues to be a little convoluted/unnecessarily obscure but this one struck a great balance of visible but easily forgettable.

The Knight of the Swords by Michael Moorcock (Complete) Having first read the comic adaptation (penciled by Mike Mignola!) I now realize some of my issues (pacing, understanding the abstract) work better in novel form. An elevated pulp adventure that has some great ironic twists.

Sherlock Holmes vs. Dracula or The Adventure of the Sanguinary Count by Loren D. Estleman (Complete) Thrift find purchased based on the premise alone. Exactly what you'd expect but not much beyond that. It's at its best when you get Dracula directly interacting with Holmes and/or Watson.

Spider-Verse by Dan Slott, Christos N. Gage, Mike Costa, Dennis Hopeless, and many many more (Complete) Really enjoyed reading this but am baffled by its production. Why the issues aren't collected in chronological order, I'll never know. I know the book is over ten years old now but the writing (especially all of the Spider-Women) really stands out as...not great. All but the Superior Spider-Man essentially sound the same (perhaps the point?) but Gwen and Jess and Cindy mostly talk about things like body image and pheromones and it's glaring. I'm curious what I'll think upon a second readthrough (reading in order, and after the first wave of nostalgia has completely rinsed off) but I definitely think this story walked so the movies could break the speed of sound.

The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl Beats Up the Marvel Universe! by Ryan North and Erica Henderson (Complete) North's writing and Henderson's artwork are the perfect blend for such a bright and enthusiastic character. Unbeatable Squirrel Girl is such a great series (which I gotta go back and finish) and this is an equally great introduction to the character.

Superior Foes of Spider-Man Vol 1 by by Nick Spencer, Marcos Martin, and Steve Leiber (Complete) I was really excited for this series (the premise! the cover art!) but the pacing, humour, and art just didn't connect. Honestly really bummed that I didn't like this more.

……….AUDIO……….

3D6 Down the Line (Podcast) A nice change of pace from the modern D&D games I play in. They use Old School Essentials for their system (more akin to 2nd Edition D&D) and play with a mindset similar to the 70s style of play (treasure for experience, everything is lethal). I'm still having trouble distinguishing some of the voices from each other, but it's a great listen.

……….GAMING……….

Oz: A Fantasy Role-Playing Setting (Andrews McMeel Publishing) Tuesday crew watched a peaceful inauguration and gained notoriety for saving a neighbourhood from roaming monsters (you can read all about it here!) and the Mof1 crew is dabbling in dangerous contracts with dangerous people (all for a cap that controls the winged monkeys).

And that's it. See you in August!

[cienie-isengardu]

Clone troopers & the movie “Soldier” (1998)

I’ve talked a lot about why I hate the chip-in-brain storyline of New Canon but today I want to present an old film that is probably forgotten as it was made 20+ years ago but one that presents my point of view well. I watched the Soldier (1998) as a kid, so naturally what Attack of the Clones did not explain about the life of clone troopers my mind filled in, drawing inspiration from this film.

The story is simple one, but varies greatly from other movie action, as there is no great ideology or strong moral sense behind our main hero, just a life-long training that made him equally a great soldier and traumatized, vulnerable man. A man that slowly rediscover his humanity by interacting with people who see him as a human being.

Greatly important was the opening sequence, in which we have an actual look into the stages of training that shaped our main hero, the sergeant Todd. And so we have: 

Year Zero (1996)

Babies are chosen for the military secret project.

Year Five

We can see 5 years old children sitting in “classroom” (all silent and so un-childly obedient) while voice is telling them repeatedly:

A soldier does not speak until spoken to by a superior officer. A soldier shows no mercy. Mercy is weakness. Weakness is death. The Forces are his family. He is most happy when following orders. A soldier lives to kill. A soldier needs no friend or family. War is his friend. The Forces are his family.

while the  kids are forced to watch how three dogs sicced on a boar kill the wild animal.

The one kid that turned his head is forced to watch by the “trainer”

The kids and their reactions are  observed by the military personnel. 

YEAR EIGHT

The children silently sit in the classroom solving the intelligence test while still watched and judged by military personnel. 

On the wall we can see alphabet letters, for example:

O - obey

N - nuke 

M - murder 

S-shoot

Known Chem/Bio (weapon) Which gives a pretty good idea what the children are taught there, at the 8. years old. How to kill and obey.

YEAR TWELVE

We see children running in silence - the one kid that is not physically fit to keep up with the group is killed. The children (and the viewers) can hear the shooting noise. None of the kids stop or panic, they keep running without a world or looking back.

YEAR SIXTEEN

We see the young cadets on the shooting range. They are shooting at the ��enemy” while some “targets” are presented as civilians / unarmed women.

Then we are shown a “woman with child” and enemy hiding behind her.

One cadet hesitated but the main hero (cadet Todd) shot without a second thought, as killing civilians to kill the enemy was an acceptable loss.

YEAR SEVENTEEN - end of training

the cadets are tattooed with their name & number on the face and

in the YEAR THIRTY-EIGHT

They are already either veterans of many fights or killed on the mission. We as viewers are literally shown how those men came from one military conflict to another without any word or mercy for enemy and poor civilians who were unlucky to be in the way)

Those soldiers don’t know peace, when they aren’t fighting they are “between wars”.

No talking, no fun, all silent and disciplined ready for another control with no real personal belongings or space.

And once the military can provide a much better, physically stronger and easier to “breed” soldiers by using clones, Todd is discarded like some kind of trash. 

Another interesting thing that the movie did is the contrast between Todd on the battlefield (an effective soldier) and Todd between civilians (alerted, not speaking unless spoken to). He barely speaks to people who take him into their house, and when he does, it is a very spartan style of speech - short and to the point. When asked what it feels to be soldier, the movie provided this dialogue:

Sandra: Sergeant Todd what's it like? What's it like being a soldier? Todd (not answering):  Sandra: What do you think about? You must think about something. Todd (not answering):  Sandra: What about feelings, then? You must feel something. Todd: Fear.  Sandra: "Fear?'" Todd: Fear and discipline. Sandra: Now? Todd: Always.

And in all honesty, I prefer to see clone troopers similar to sergeant Todd - as very good soldiers but also traumatized men that rediscover their humanity after years of dehumanization rather than dealing with the TCW/Disney’s nonsense of chip-in-brain as excuse for Order 66.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Queen of Hearts pt 18

A/N: It's been awhile for this one. I was a little bit kinda sorta life threateningly sick so I had some time to complete this. Thank you as always to @chloes-yellow-cup and @kimmania for listening to the hcs that eventually become real stories. i love you awesome nerds.

18 Aggression Factor

“Jesus, this is a fucking nightmare.”

Aubrey nodded her agreement at the thought and leaned back in her seat. The leather creaked softly, the only counterpoint to Beca's soft comment. They had gone to the docks, and on the surface in the full light of day everything appeared on the up and up. But just a little digging after business hours had uncovered a nest of nastiness that she didn't yet know what to do with.

“We have to do something Aubrey. We can't just let all those women suffer. Some of them were just girls…”

Aubrey didn't say anything for a long time. She was sickened by what she and Beca had seen. But it all made sense now. Everything that Weston had been involved in was suddenly and disgustingly clear. Weston had been using his connections with the Russian mob to traffick women as play things for the rich and elite.

“We can free them all tonight. But then Roman and his crew close down shop here and open up somewhere else.”

“They're going to do that anyway now that they've killed Grant's kid. The kid was nothing to them or his father. By morning all those girls will be shipped and held somewhere else.”

And if Beca were to go to her superiors now she would sidelined by the wheels of bureaucracy before anyone could save those women. Her thumbs tapped lightly on the steering wheel as she turned the problem over in her head. She couldn't see any way to help the innocent victims immediately that would stop the operation entirely. She had to choose. Save who she could now or let them and countless others suffer until she and Beca could maybe find a way to dismantle an entire organization and see that justice was served to the people behind it all. 

“All those rich pricks are going to get off scott free from this, aren't they?”

Detective Mitchell looked away and sighed deeply. It bothered her as much as it bothered Aubrey. When they had started this working arrangement it had been because Aubrey wanted someone on the Force that was in her pocket. In truth it could have been any cop, and quite a few that had less compunction about taking her money to look the other way. But she had needed Beca Mitchell in particular.

It had been late when Beca had pulled into the big bay doors of the abandoned warehouse. But dead of night seemed about right for whatever was about to happen. She pulled the rusted old Nova into a cleared space and got out of the car warily. 

Happy and Lilly were stood menacingly and armed to either side of a seated figure lost half in shadow. Somehow Aubrey managed to be the most terrifying of them all, calmly waiting for Beca's arrival with the patience of a large predator. Smoke curled in a lazy tendril around Aubrey’s head and she casually dropped the butt of her cigarette to the floor and ground it out with her shoe as she rose.

“Did you bring him?”

“In the trunk. It'll be a miracle if he survived carbon monoxide poisoning back there. I think the catalytic converter fell off this bucket somewhere on Imperial.”

Aubrey nodded and Happy and Lilly moved to pull their guest out of the trunk of Beca’s unmarked police car. She put a hand into her suit jacket and pulled out an envelope of cash and tossed it to the Detective. Beca caught it and counted the cash half distracted by the none too gentle way her cargo was being dragged and strapped to a dusty work table.

“So look. I know the deal here. You make moves and I follow them. In the end I make some money and really shitty people get what they deserve. I'm oddly on-board with meting out punishment in non legal ways when its due. But this guy? He's nothing. Some B&E, some minor theft. A bar fight. On paper this guy is no one.”

And she had looked. Beca might be okay with playing things a little loose with the law for Aubrey but she wasn't going to do it blindly. She had pulled Mervin Evans’ jacket and read through his past charges before she picked him up and shoved him into her trunk. He wasn't a great guy but he wasn't horrible either.

The blonde glanced away from Mervin and pinned Beca with a cold stare. She wasn't afraid of Posen exactly, but she was a fan of exercising caution around an unpredictable variable. Asking too many questions could easily land her on the table next to Mervin.

“On paper you're an officer of the law and I'm a hardworking, law abiding, businesswoman.”

“Touche.”

Aubrey slid the suit jacket from her shoulders and hung it neatly from a hanger. There was a deliberateness about the way the other woman removed her cufflinks and watch and placed them in the pocket of her jacket. Beca swallowed hard when Aubrey rolled up the sleeves on her shirt and strode to the table with echoing steps. 

“You can leave now, Detective. The kitchen is gonna get hot.”

Beca narrowed her eyes at the subtle challenge. Okay sure watching Aubrey tug on leather gloves before picking up a thin steel bar and hefting it lightly in hand was alarming. But if she left now without questioning this was she really the person she thought she was? 

“You implying I can't hack the job?”

Aubrey chuckled softly and placed the bar on the table near Mervin's head. For the most part he had been sort of out of it, too many bumps in the road on the way over. He groaned and his head lolled to the side. He just stared at the bar for a moment in dazed confusion before recognition dawned on him and he started to struggle. Happy slapped him hard a few times to settle him and Beca shifted uncomfortably.

“I'm not implying anything. I'm out right telling you. You ain't got it, kid. Now beat it before you realize how dirty your hands really are.”

Whether she meant to or not Aubrey had issued a challenge that Beca couldn't ignore. She had to take a stand one way or the other. Even if it might get her killed.

“I need to know what he did, Posen. He's too small of a fish in our great big pond to deserve whatever it is you're planning.”

Aubrey picked up a torch striker and gave it an experimental squeeze to text the way it sparked. She nodded in approval before using it to point at a wide eyed and gagged Mervin.

“You're right. He's a little fish, but he's no Nemo. He's a remora.”

“Wait. Like those fish that eat shark leftovers or whatever? Where the fuck is this going?”

Aubrey lit the acetylene torch standing at the head of the table with the striker. Mervin jumped and tried to struggle but the straps around his body held him fast. She was methodical about the way she heated the end of the bar, leaving the fire on the tip until it glowed a white hot.

“Hm. Something like that. Remoras feed on shit. And this little shit eating fishie is feeding from a shark I don't want in my water.”

“I'm guessing we aren't talking a cute friendly reef shark.”

Aubrey inhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. Beca was used to seeing the action and knew that the person she respected most was about to do something that she felt needed to be done. Aubrey was violent and practical to brutality but it was never without a reason. When she opened her eyes and looked at Beca there was a hollow void where most people had a soul. 

“Someone is taking women from MY streets. Teenagers, Mitchell. Young women are being stolen and sold and this stronzo, this oh so little fish, is the one finding them for his master. And do you know what he does to them? He brands them so they know who they belong to. And now I'm going to mark him.”

Aubrey raised the brand and moved to bring it close to Mervin's arm. Only Beca's shaking hand on her wrist stopped her. 

“Wait…wait…”

Whatever was going on in the Detective's head was a struggle Aubrey did not envy. Her job was simple. She did what she needed to and she didn't have to play by anyone's rules but her own. Mitchell on the other hand lived with a foot in two worlds, there were lines she couldn't cross with the same ease Aubrey did. 

Lines she shouldn't cross because she had people in her life that would never understand. Detective Mitchell had a family. Brothers and sisters and two of the most loving people as parents that chose Beca and saved her from a life in the system. Aubrey had done her research on Beca long before she ever approached her. She knew all her triggers and all her secrets. She knew them all and played on them to get what she wanted. Just like she was playing on that now. 

“Are you asking me to spare him? Do you think he spared those girls he stole and hurt? Do you think if I let him  go now he'll stop and change his ways and never touch another person's daughter…or sister?”

The look in Beca's eyes was terrible to behold. A leviathan of disgusted rage rose in the deep blue depths and if Aubrey were being honest, she was proud to see it and bothered that she had to be the one to invoke it. Hate boiled beneath the surface when Beca gripped the brand in her own hand and pressed it down with a scream on Mervin's forehead. 

Aubrey felt nothing as she watched him writhe and howl in pain behind his gag. She felt nothing when Mitchell flung the brand away and staggered drunkenly to the door outside to retch on the hard black macadam lot. She gave Mervin a disinterested look and nodded to Happy and Lilly to finish the work. They would without question or conscience and she appreciated that.

But it wasn't what she needed.

Aubrey stepped outside and knelt by Beca heaving on all fours. She reached out a tentative hand to rub the other woman's back soothingly and wasn't surprised to be shrugged off. She had pushed too far. Beca tried to scramble away, tears running down her face freely but Aubrey gathered her as easily as a child and held her while she struggled with what she had just done.

“I'm sorry Mitchell. Sorry I goaded you into it because I didn't like being questioned. Because I felt like a point needed to be made.”

“I'm gonna hork again.”

Aubrey eased away and let Beca rise on shaky feet. The way the Detective looked at her would haunt her at night when she was alone and the horrors of her life replayed themselves on repeat. Anyone else would have looked away from the accusation and revulsion. Aubrey stared back, evenly, accepting who and what she was now. She hadn’t always been this. Once it had affected her too.

“I threw up my first time too.”

“Jesus Christ, Posen. This work is fucking evil. The people that do this are fucking evil.”

You're fucking evil.

Beca didn't say it. She didn't have to. Aubrey rose and brushed the dirt off her neatly pressed slacks. Yes. She was. She nodded at the unspoken statement and smoothed her tie.

“I'm no saint, that's true.”

Something flickered in Beca’s eyes and she looked away from Aubrey. The blonde slid hands in her pockets and considered for a moment.

“I might be the devil.”

The detective turned to eye her quickly. Measuring her worth with a skill that only cops had.

“You're not the devil. You're fucking awful sometimes but you're not the devil Posen. You're trying to do a job with the only tools you have and its sick work but maybe some of it has to be done.”

“I'm a weapon, Detective. My purpose is pain and order and I am very good at it. Who I inflict pain on is how I sleep at night.”

Beca nodded and turned away to stare at the moon above. Her voice was raw and tight as she struggled to contain her emotions.

“Lesson learned. Don't question you if I don't want to become an unfeeling weapon.”

Aubrey hesitated and looked up to the moon as well. No one questioned her. Ever. Even before her father had passed and her work was new, no one had questioned the way she handled business. And perhaps that was why she was the monster she was today.

“I need you to keep questioning me, Mitchell. Even if I hate it.”

Beca glanced at her quickly again, eyes wide with surprise. Aubrey sighed deeply.

“There are lines even I shouldn't cross and I don't know if I recognize them anymore.”

“What are you asking here? You want me to be your Jiminy?”

Fatigue set in making her shoulders hunch with the weight of so many misdeeds. Seeing Detective Mitchell break down, seeing her feel something, had shown her how far removed she was from humanity. And it scared her.

“I don't flinch, Bec. Humans should flinch when they do terrible things. They should feel it in their soul. I feel nothing.”

“Jesus. You're really asking me to help you be human?”

Her lips quirked in a quick grin. If anyone could help her find her humanity again it was Beca Mitchell. Perhaps the only person alive not afraid to tell her to fuck off. 

“I just want to be a real girl.”

“Great, fantastic, maybe you can start by taking a crack at that work life balance thing. Take a night off…and don't fucking call me.”

She had taken that advice to heart and gone to a poker game hosted by a friend. Aubrey smiled softly at the memory of spending four hours letting the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen win every single dollar she had brought and her heart to boot.

Beca had been right then and she was right now. Aubrey inhaled deeply knowing she was going to end Roman and his business but Weston's friends would still be safe to continue doing what they wanted. And she wouldn't be able to do a damn about it. 

“I need to make an example of Ekzarova and make it very costly for his organization to run that line of business.”

“Too costly to be worth the effort.” Beca watched her careful nod of agreement before speaking again. “Richie Rich's friends are a lost cause aren't they?”

“For now. Yes. They have more money and resources than I do. So for now, until I can find out the right leverage on them, they skate on this.”

“We still have the proof on those drives.”

“If you thought that was enough to nail them for this you would have used it a long time ago. We both know it'll get buried and you'll find yourself out of a job.”

“And Alice?”

Alice Alice Alice. Aubrey hadn’t allowed herself to think about her ex girlfriend. She was afraid the rage would overwhelm her good sense and she would do something sloppy enough to get her caught.

“For her part in what happened to Happy? For putting her hands on Stacie…”

She gave Beca a look that didn't mask the well of darkness in her soul at the thought of ending Alice.

“She needs to be made an example of too or they'll send another just like her. But you know. Competent.”

“You asking me to cross lines Jiminy?”

“No I'm outright telling you we are going to cross lines. A lot of them.” 

“Bec…”

“Don't Aubrey.”

“You're a cop.”

She felt it bore a mention. Beca was rapidly approaching a point where there would be no turning back. She had a life and family she could easily lose.

“For what though? Did cops stop my alcoholic father from beating my crackhead mother to death in front of my face? Did cops take me out of the foster system and put me in a safe home where I felt loved for the first time in my life? I'm sorry was it the cops that found the gang banger that murdered my older brother for trying to protect a store clerk? Are cops doing anything at all to protect any of these women? No. Man…fuck the police. They are part of a system of abuse and I'm done Aubrey. I'm fucking done. You know who was there to save me? People. Just fucking good people. And a goddamn murdering mobster might be the best one of them. So don't fucking tell me what I'm losing. The answer is nothing. I lose nothing but the shame of being part of the problem.”

“Okay.”

What else could she say? Aubrey reached out a balled fist and held it steady. Beca looked at her and bumped their knuckles together. 

“I don't think I'll ever be a real girl if I lose myself in this, you know that right? What I'll have to do to end this whole thing…”

Beca's tone gentled and she looked at Aubrey with something the blonde had never seen in the Detective's eyes before. Pride.

“Aubrey, this only makes you that much more human and real.” 

They sat there a minute longer while she let that sink in. Somehow, somewhere, she had changed. Because of Beca.

“So you gonna be my best man or what?”

Mitchell was right. Fuck the police. If they were going scorched earth then it wouldn't matter who stood by her at her wedding. And she really couldn't think of anyone she wanted more at her shoulder.

“Do I get to bang hot bridesmaids?”

“No guarantee but there is an open bar and a hot doctor among the guests.”

Beca sighed heavily as if she were making a huge sacrifice at not being able to sleep her way through the wedding party. But Aubrey could see she didn't really mean it.

“Yeah alright. I guess I can rock a suit for a day. Maybe I can pass out and Doc Beale can give me some mouth to mouth.”

Beca winked at her and slid out of the car with a chuckle. The door slammed, leaving her to sit in the quiet car park alone. She had a lot to prepare and she needed to do it quickly. But right now the only thing she could focus on was getting back to Stacie to find a little peace before she burned the world to the ground.

[sydsaint]

Summary: The reader finds Grayson coming to her rescue in an unexpected way.

It's a calm night for Smackdown, which is saying something for once. You are sitting in the main office looking through your email while Pearce is somewhere backstage working.

Smackdown has only been on the air for about half an hour, but LA Knight and Austin Theory have already been by to talk to you. Or flirt, to be more specific. You are just about to call Pearce and ask where he's been when he suddenly slips through the door.

"There you are." You quip while peering over your laptop. "I was just about to call you, Pearce. Where have you been anyways? Backstage avoiding work?" You tease him.

Adam gruffs under his breath and fixes his crooked tie. "Please, I know LA Knight and Austin Theory have both been here tonight. And I am sure that they didn't come for work."

"Ouch!" You flash an amused grin. "What's up? Why do you look like you're in a hurry?" You ask him.

"Y/N, I've got an important call with Hunter that I can't be late for. So can you handle this, please?" Pearce asks you without warning before he swiftly exits the office.

"Handle what?" You look up from your laptop to find Bianca and Charlotte both standing in the doorway. "Ladies." You greet them. "What's up?"

Charlotte shoulders past Bianca with a look of superiority about her and marches up to your desk. "I'm getting Asuka at Money in the Bank." She informs you matter-of-factly.

"Umm, like hell you are." Bianca protests and approaches your desk. "You ain't even been here for months. So what in the hell makes you think that you can just march in here and demand a title shot that so obviously belongs to me?"

"Because I said so." Charlotte sneers and looks down at Bianca. "You lost honey. It's time for you to move on." She insists.

You go to say your piece on the matter, but an argument ensues and insults start getting thrown back at forth. You try to cut in a couple of times, but Charlotte and Bianca don't let up.

"Thanks, Pearce." You mumble to yourself while Bianca and Charlotte argue. "Ladies. Please." You try once more to calm them down.

Bianca and Charlotte continue to argue until someone comes through the office door. "Now what kind of catfight is going on in here?" Grayson peeks his head in the door with a curious grin. "I could hear you ladies from down the hall." He adds.

"I'm kind of busy at the moment, Grayson." You sigh. "What do you want?" You ask him.

Waller comes fully into the room and shuts the door behind him. "Me? I'm great, sweetheart. Just curious about all the noise. I love a good bit of drama." He grins to himself.

"Well then you came to the right place," Bianca replies. "Because Charlotte here isn't good for anything but drama." She glares daggers at Charlotte.

"Oh, you're one to talk." Charlotte shoots back.

Grayson glances past the two arguing women and eyes you with an annoyed look on your face. He chuckles to himself as an idea pops into his head.

"Ladies!" Grayson puts himself between Bianca and Charlotte. "Why don't we settle this little argument in style? I'd love to have you both on my show. If the boss permits it of course?" He turns to you on the other side of the desk.

"Sure, why not." You shrug, just happy that Bianca and Charlotte won't be nagging you anymore.

Grayson cracks an eager grin and says a few words to his new guests before sending them on their way. Charlotte and Bianca both head off to get the camera ready, and Grayson is left alone with you in the office for a moment.

"Finally." You sigh contently at the peace in the room. "I thought those two were gonna start throwing punches if that kept up."

"You're welcome." Grayson grins. "You know I am always happy to help, Y/N." He teases you.

You roll your eyes and scoff. "Oh yeah, two high-profile and beautiful women on your show. What a favor you're doing me."

"Charlotte and Bianca are pretty, sure." Grayson agrees. "Not as gorgeous as you though." He adds with a wink.

"Mhm, whatever." You roll your eyes again. "Alright, what do you want, Waller?" You ask him.

Grayson shrugs and walks over to the side of your desk. He leans against the corner and grins down at you. "Just a question is all." He claims.

"A question? That's it?" You raise a skeptical brow at Waller.

"Mhm." Grayson nods. "Am I your favorite?" He asks you.

"My favorite?" You repeat his question. "In what context?"

Grayson leans down a little closer. "Come on now, Y/N. I ain't no dummy." He insists. "I know that old boy, LA Knight, has his eyes on you. And Austin Theory as well."

"Right." You nod.

"It's alright, sweetheart." Grayson chuckles. "I know that I'm your favorite. It can be our little secret." He leans down presumably for a kiss.

Your hand lands square on Grayson's chest and stops him from getting any closer. "You might be." You tease him with a grin. "But it takes more than one measly little favor to get me hooked, Waller." You inform him.

Grayson stands back up to his feet, clearly a fan of the little game you're proposing. "Alright." He grins at you. "Fair enough, sweetheart. I'll be seeing you around then, Y/N."

"I'm looking forward to it, Waller!" You reply as Grayson walks off.

You shake your head once Grayson is gone, knowing that he's right. He is your favorite. 

[creepydomme]

i think it's just a phase of mine 🥺m trying to not be so into it,, i can't become a theology professor at an ivy league n worship girls n be submissive !!

That shame is what’s holding you back from your natural urges and desires. It’s not shameful to recognize your place beneath beautiful women. How are you even going to be around all those beautiful smart college girls and powerful female professors without giving in? You’ll crumble under the pressure then come crawling back because you know deep down being submissive and worshipping superior powerful women is what you were meant for.

[kittycomrad]

these women just come here and type bs paragraphs. I've read the most eye opening texts from radblr radfems but then again anyone can come on here and say pretty much anything. doesn't help that they'll be excluded from most groups on here because of the trans issue so that's what they come here for. There have been a couple of blogs that became radblr popular in a month because and only because of their gender posts

Can't tell which particular issue you're referring you, but yeah. I wish some of these women should just call themselves gc because they do not have a feminist bone in their body. Imagine having same lifestyle as a conservative woman while claiming to want to uplift women. A lot of them just come here to validate them when they finally meet their nigels after a lot of yes all men facade. it's funny. And when you criticize them they bring up blackpillers to invalidate other peoples critiques. The amount of micro aggressions and racism is crazy too. People on twt (before i was banned from there) made it seem like this place is full of principled and more left leaning women. Kind of the opposite. You might say these are only a few people but unfortunately they're the loudest or have the biggest platform. Just found out about few of the big accounts Ladielabrys being israeli sympathizer; Glumirror/almaisthinking being an israeli colonizer/zionist who's apparently also coward enough to delete her confessions, lanamisandrist/misandristlana being anti roma, anti ziganist (calling them gyp*y subhuman) also little miss misandrist loves to paint her face and call m*n daddy, and how can i forget planetofjah girly being a zionist, dating a military m*n after claiming to be an repressed lesbian for MONTHS omg😭💀. Can't tell which is worse

Imagine being introduced to radical feminism online as a young girl and it's a bunch of hyper feminine, male partnered edgy women with superiority/hero complex and "man hater" aesthetic. Sounds like a joke.

[balkanradfem]

The christian side of tumblr found a post where I made a little joke about how religion puts women into servitude and it's going around gathering bible quotes and arguing whether this is about christianity or other religions x_x I never thought this day would come.. I didn't think christians were on here. And even though the majority of people arguing are christians, I never wrote down 'christianity', I meant all abrahamic religions.

I'm itching to go argue but I know deep in my heart there is nothing to be gained. These people are eager to mock and personally attack whoever is disagreeing with them and that is not a honest intellectual discussion that I crave. I think if you're religious you just have to avoid thinking things like 'why is that so' and 'isn't that awfully convenient' and 'what if this promised thing fails to materialize' because once you start having those thoughts, the entire thing falls apart.

I remember being 15 and realizing that the christian god has no actual use of us, no point in caring about us whatsoever, and no incentive to pay attention to what we do or don't do, but humans very much have a need to believe in the higher power that works to their personal advantage, and that there's someone 'up there' who will make things alright for them, that they have a higher purpose and that if they follow certain rules it will pay out. And this was enough for me to figure out that god didn't create humans, but humans created god, because humans have a need of a god, while god has no need or use for humans at all.

It was only later when I learned about feminism that I realized it wasn't only that, but that it was specifically made to control, exploit and oppress women, praising them for endless servitude, sacrifice, submission and platitude, all while consistently telling them they're filled with sin and never good enough. It's now ghoulish and bizarre to me that the symbol of their faith is a m*n being brutally tortured, that what we feel is holy is endless suffering and pain and death. We're told to aspire for that. That has nothing to do with spirituality, nothing to do with human nature or healthy and happy human lives. It's a worship of death.

There are promises that religious people make towards women, to make them believe it's a path towards true love, or endless rewards for being 'faithful' and 'pure' or a life where they feel safe from disasters, safe from being abandoned and betrayed. There's nothing in life that can guarantee that. Religion can however, offer certain people a community, it can provide services where you come and listen to stories, and stories come with morals (convenient and confusing morals, but people love engaging with moral-type stories and feeling they've learned something), it provides rituals and celebrations that cultures have integrated in their life (after it destroyed the original rituals and celebrations, but we don't talk about that), and it can provide a common ground of understanding for people (sadly the common ground is that women exist to serve and that this is natural). Sometimes it also provides a feeling of superiority for some people, enabling them to mock, humiliate and patronize others for their 'lack of religion'.

So I understand there are community related reasons a person might feel safer within a religion and having this common ground and community, common beliefs, familiarity and stories, rituals and celebrations, it doesn't come off as a horrible thing, especially when the majority of the culture does it. But other things it brings are painful for women, and often hidden. Encouraging hidden suffering, sacrifice, servitude, centering torture and death, and admiration of torture and death, instead of celebrating nature, life, the world we live in and how we interact with it. Centering males as creators when everyone alive was created by women. Dismissing wars, rape, terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, genocides and male brutality, while endlessly shaming women for having feelings and not doing a good enough job pleasing the violent males. And generally making a hell for women when they have any thoughts about sexuality or lust.

I know me writing about it here will not have any effect on people personally attacking me for being ignorant and uneducated, but it feels good to write down the thoughts I've been having all day! Being forbidden from thinking in certain direction, forbidden from questioning my own beliefs, is something that plagued me for a big part of my life, and I will not have it anymore. I can say 'this is awfully convenient' when religions declare that m*n are leaders and women are supposed to follow and serve. I can say that putting up statues of a m*n dying in torture is fucked up and morbid. I can say that making me believe that I would go to hell, for not following every order I've been given, is a horrid thing to do to a female child. And I'm happy and grateful that I can think and say whatever I want, without any threat of damnation ever looming over me.

[youandmedead]

M¥ hêår† ßêlðñg§ †ð ¥ðµ - ÇlåµÐê £åµ§†µ§ x RêåÐêr

Warnings: Claude may be out of character, suggestive (?)

Requested by: No one

Synopsis: During one of Alois Trancy’s many parties, you have been asked to dance with an upperclassman and asked a pressing question in which you must decline, Claude then catches on and confronts you on the matter

Notes: I was going to make Sebastian the man who asked y/n to dance but I thought that was a bit of a cliché. Also look! It’s my first piece of writing without swearing in it!

The room was glowing with radiance and bliss, men and women laughing and smiling discussing matters of which were deemed as ‘unimportant’ or ‘improper’ for a person of your status. Whilst standing in the corner you glanced around, your eyes landed upon Earl Trancy and his ever so stoic butler. The Earl was most likely rambling about some preposterous or monotonous story, condescension and disparaging comments dripping off of his tongue as his guests either laugh along or simply stand stone still with an awkward, forced smile plastered across their faces. Meanwhile, his butler (and so called right hand man as Trancy proclaims) was standing their simply spectating the scene that played out before them…how tedious that must be for the man.

The young master, in your eyes, always seemed cumbersome and spoil. The rumours you have heard about his past should not excuse his abusive nature, nor his status…the rules in which society was built upon should not be the way that they are, they should be rewritten. Alas nothing can be done, society seems to be too rich in it’s preposterous ways.

As you delved deeper into your thoughts, you didn’t seem to acknowledge the tall figure that approached you. “Excuse me?” The voice spoke. You broke out of your imaginary cage and looked up towards the owner of the voice, “My apologies sir. May I ask what it is that you require?”

The man smirked, “A dance with you, is what I require.”

You simply nodded and grasped his had that he held out. He lead you out onto the bustling dance floor, where the grandest music was played upon the piano. You spun around the dance floor as the music mesmerised and dazed the man in front of you leading him to make a bold claim, “You are rather attractive my dear.” At the statement you blushed, “I appreciate the compliment sir, but surely your mistress has much more beauty to her than I.” The man chuckled once more and the grip he had on your hand and waist tightened. He dipped you down slightly and gazed into your eyes, “I’m afraid I don’t have one. Perhaps you could fill that role for me? It would certainly attended to matters in which have been faced with, how should I say…difficulty. We could both get something out of it, No?”

You shook your head and tried to get out of the man’s grip, “I’m sorry to say this sir but I belong to another. Please do not pertain this as an act of rudeness or such towards you but my heart has already been stolen.”

The man simply stared at you with a mix of emotions being spread on his face, so much so that he was becoming increasingly difficult to read. He ripped his hands away from you and stormed away, heading over towards the refreshments section of the room ready to douse his failure in alcohol and grumble about his outrage to his associates.

Crossing your arms and covering your smirk on your lips with your fingers, trying to stifle the snicker that was trying to escape you, you made contact with the Head Butler of the Trancy manner. He pushed his glasses up and gave a slight nod. Nodding back, you checked round the room to make sure nobody was focusing on you so you could leave the party and head towards the manors front garden.

The garden was always a tranquil environment, it allowed one to escape the chaotic nature that Alois Trancy and the inside of his manor brought. The air was fresh and a tad bitter but pleasant none the less, at least it beat a stuffy room filled with superior ladies and gentlemen. The flowers seemed to dance as the gentle wind carried them, rogue petals littered the stone clad floor. Walking further throughout the garden you found the fountain that’s water is always crystal clear and an area you always witnessed Claude visit. You gave a heavy sigh gazing into and dipping your hand in the water to see if the bitter temperature of it would help you ground yourself back into the true reality of things.

“I see you noticed my little signal.”

You turned your head and nodded sheepishly drying of your hand on your clothing, “Ah yes…I needed to get out of their anyway so I-“

“I sensed your discomfort. Was that man doing anything improper towards you?”

Claude began to circle your form, “Or perhaps you were maybe enjoying his advances? Thinking of all sorts of things you could get away with?”

Waving him off you replied, “No, no nothing of the sort occurred. I turned down his so called offer. Why would I accept such a thing? Beside’s I-”

Claude’s interest was piqued and before you could finish your sentence, the tall male stepped behind you and then lowered himself in order to whisper in your ear, “Is that so? Please do enlighten me. What was it that you said to him exactly?”

Your cheeks grew warmer and a tinted rosy shade of red appeared as you felt his hot breathe against your ear, alongside a shiver down your spine from his voice. A sense of jealousy could be deduced from him. “I-I said that me and my heart belonged to another.”

The Trancy butler stood fully up once more and a smug smirk appeared on his face, “Hm, rightfully so my darling.”

He spun you around and took a hold of your right hand and your waist, dipping you down whilst gazing deeply into your eyes his smirk never fading, “Because you’re belong to me. You’re mine, nothing can change that.”

Your breathe hitched and grabbed tightly onto his waist coat, “Of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

And with that declaration, the demon chuckled kissing you deeply with deep passion and greed.

[gurorori]

I think headcanoning canonically male characters as trans women can allow you to explore identity beyond just switching the anatomy of canonically female characters. Like often when male chara gets headcanoned as transmasc people just slap scars on him and done. If you basically genderspaw a character you can focus on their experience with transition more I think

Unfortunately half of the time people go "long hair = woman" instead... I'm sorry hajime

oh 100%, undeniably there r great ways 2 explore both kinds of genderswaps/trans hcs... neither is superior or more correct over the other, but i do think it still helps 2 keep in mind it can, in *some* hands, turn somewat shallow...

immediately makin it abt enstars since dats wat we r mostly into: 2 me it still becomes mehhh when ppl will do eveyrthin in their power 2 transfemify like 3-4 specific characters who r the most aesthetically (as in, appearance n physical expression i guess) feminine while not really givin a shit abt the canonically trans woman (who is not quite the most 'traditionally feminine' image of woman herself tbh). <- m not very good at explainin things but i hope im clear. it's just interestin seein both the bias compared 2 canon rep AS WELL as the bias compared 2 like. the rest of the cast dats not shu hiyori etc

as always ppl r entitled 2 do as they wish w interpretations n all dat! i'm not one 2 give ppl shit ab stuff like this in person or rly like discourse ab this very often

i also see wat ya mean w the transition thing, but i don't think that's necessarily 'the only way', ya can focus on the transition part of the headcanon regardless of canon gender (unless im missin smth in yr words?); i guess with [canon X -> trans X] it has 2 b more of a conscious choice 2 go back in time 2 explore it, whereas with [canon X -> trans Y] it's kind of the startin point, yr gettin rite into it? i understan how dats more compellin 2 ppl, especially if they r in (pre-) transition still <3 i do think it's really up 2 ppls preference at the end of the day! it's nawt some huge political difference, just the way ppl play w the characters n narratives

[strywoven]

@saiakv has requested a story : ❰❰ PIN ❱❱ sender pins receiver during a fight/training  ( for verona ♥ )

𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒅.

Through the ages , up until rather recently , the Valhyr clan was INFAMOUS for its cursed techniques , for the powerful progeny it produced.  These women sought p e r f e c t i o n in their craft , but in turn , near-completely neglected other necessary areas of a proper training regime.  Many of them , even the council and foremothers ( namely the matriarchs ) , did not endeavor to teach their rising generations much in the way of combat ( tell me , what use is learning a man’s art of brawling sport , when we can simply dismantle an opponent from the mind outwards ? they questioned , conceited & all too set in their ways ) .  And it soon became apparent that Verona made for a prime example of such ; for all her training , for all the resources granted unto her as a ‘ prodigal daughter ’ , she had very little understanding of TRUE BATTLE beyond demonstrations of barbaric force and slaughter.

She confessed , of course , to Suguru , outright admitting to her vanity.  There’s no use for it , she had told him in passing , I need it not , for no man withstands the maw of a woman ripping his throat and uprooting his mind.

A challenge it was not.  At least , she did not THINK it was , until he countered the supposed gauntlet with one of his own : an offer to put her mettle to the test , to train her and allow her the ability to learn something new.  After all , who’s to say you cannot teach an old dog new tricks ?  Even if this particular breed be especially s t u b b o r n .

Not one to be outdone , she accepted ( though the instant the words left her mouth , she could tell it was a mistake , it was a losing battle & one she did not know whether she was prepared to face ) .

It made for a quick enough fight.  For as strategic as Verona is , her attacks were all ferocity , all brute force and none of the marked precision necessary to keep pace with someone who knew better.  Every strike is easily parried , easily countered and thwarted , her erratic savagery becoming as predictable as any predator being backed into a corner and growing increasingly f l u s t e r e d .

This is not the first time Verona has been confronted with the severe neglect in education which has left her straggling behind others.  But it IS the first time she has been shown it so d i r e c t l y , by someone she holds trust and respect for.  She is not sure what is it that wounds her more ; her fraying composure in the face of own fallacy , or the fact a MAN has gotten the better of her , laying her out on her back and pinning her there on the mat.  Breathless , grasping for some semblance of control over the situation ( not that the knowing smile curling suguru’s lips helps her any ) , Verona groans softly , claws digging furrows at her sides in f r u s t r a t i o n , sharp teeth bared and form tense as if to spring once more.  Fighting is typically so SIMPLE for her , and now this ⸺ O' how the mighty do fall !  Literally , in this case , left there scowling up at her companion with ire writ plainly upon her features.

Scorn soon fades as she expels a sigh , eyes rolling.  ❝ Yes , fine , very good , ❞ Verona drawls sardonically , though her biting tone does nothing to hide the b a r e s t twinge of praise hidden beneath , ❝ Would you like me to say you are the better of us ?  Afraid my pride’ll not allow it. ❞  Mistake her not , there is an affection there , an admiration for his skill over her own.  After a moment she adds , ❝ Anyone ever tell you you HIT LIKE A GIRL ? ❞  Odd as it is , this is a c o m p l i m e n t , given her heritage and sense of superiority.  ❝ And I must confess , I am not much used to this view , ❞ Being beneath anyone , she means.  Her head tilts , painted lips twisting into her usual coquettish little smile , ❝ I suppose I might be convinced to enjoy it , though. ❞

[sexlapis]

I posted 711 times in 2022

That's 152 more posts than 2021!

52 posts created (7%)

659 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@shigarakitomura

@dejwrites

@princesslily

@sexlapis

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby

I tagged 445 of my posts in 2022

Only 37% of my posts had no tags

#sexlapis reblogs.🪷 - 85 posts

#nanami x reader - 28 posts

#moodboards! - 24 posts

#sexlapis loves art - 24 posts

#🎨.jjk - 20 posts

#☁️.nanami - 20 posts

#toji x reader - 16 posts

#sexlapis laughs - 14 posts

#criminal minds - 13 posts

#sexlapis loves women - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 117 characters

#because you know full well that your opinions are the norm ans you want to feel superior to all the “progressives😡😡

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

drabble, nsfw

u and nanami havin sex but he’s being so soft and gentle with his thrusts n u so desperately want him to go faster and harder :( ur literally cryin and holding ur legs up higher, begging him to faster. “please please ken, go harder pleaseeeee” and nanami does nothing other than shush u, pressing a kiss to ur cheek, sayin “you’ll take what i give you angel” before only slightly picking up the pace, leaving u writhing in ur torment and pleasure simultaneously n cockdrunk :(

842 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

#4

a tip for fanfic writers.

if you’re going to write a fic more than 1k words, please put “:readmore:” to split the fic so people can choose to read the rest or not. because sometimes i’m scrolling through a tag and a 5k word fic just pops up and i’m forced to scroll though the entire thing!

so again, add “:readmore:” (without the quotation marks) to split up your fic <3 i ain’t tryna read ur 100k fic when i’m just looking for a 600 word mikasa fluff, godbless.

987 notes - Posted March 2, 2022

#3

riding toji for the first time

❀ : toji x female reader

cw : ns4w, riding, a short fic!, actually rlly fluffy, toji referring to himself in 3rd person😵‍💫, big dick toji :)

masterlists

*

you’re on the couch, straddling toji’s thick legs as his calloused fingers run gently along the length of your wet folds. moaning softly, sweaty palms gripping on to his hard shoulders, his hot mouth closed around your perked dark nipples, biting them with the scrape of his teeth. your mouth finds home on his neck, purples marks litter toji’s tan skin.

“fuck.” toji rasps out and one of his hands grab a hold of his hard length, stroking himself slowly. “okay baby, i think you’re ready now.”

you bit your lip and nod vigorously. toji had been playing with your little pussy for ages now, leaving the in between of your thighs and his fingers wet with your sweet mess. your thighs tremble as you straddle him. taking his length in your hand, you position yourself over him, rubbing your velvet folds against him and before you know it you’re sinking down on his thick cock. too overwhelmed to make any noise, your mouth falls open as you bottom out.

it was unlike anything you’ve ever felt. this position had toji feel so deep within you and it made you mind blank. toji brings you back to reality by stroking the side of your face gently, looking at your pretty face.

“you okay sweetie?” he chuckles deeply at your already fucked out expression. you had always been so sensitive, so responsive to his touch. it had him feeling a sense of pride that he could make you such a beautiful mess. his beautiful mess.

shyly, you laugh along with him and nod at this question, face feeling hot at the intimacy of the situation.

you breathe out. “yeah toj, ‘m okay.”after reassuring him, you start to grind your hips slowly. even the slightest of movements made you feel him so deeply. you moan quietly as you continue to ride him. toji’s hold on your hips tighten as you bounce on his cock.

“oh- oh fuck.” toji gasps. “shit..making me feel s’fuckin’ good.” he looks at you, admiring your blissed expression before grabbing your chin softly to make you look at him. his silver eyes were kind as they observed you. “am i making you feel good baby?”

part of you wants to run away from his gaze as you feel vulnerable under his loving scrutiny. but you stay and look him in the eyes, grounding yourself.

your soft hands cup his face as you reply, “yes tojiii…you make me feel soso good!”

toji nods with you and cups your ass in his big hands, forcing you to bounce on his dick faster, harder. sounds of slapping of skin against skin fill the room, only getting louder with each passing second. you attempt to smother your loud moans but that idea goes to shit as soon as toji begins to thrust up into you.

“ah! oooooo- toji, toji! oh my god!” you’re almost screaming as toji ravishes your body, tits and stomach jiggling with each of this hard thrusts, chests pressed together and it’s like you’re cockdrunk. head thrown back, eyes behind your head, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth, lips glossy and your face sweaty. to toji, you were a sight to behold.

toji reaches his hand to your head, making you look at him. “eyes on me honey.” he coos.

you whine and shiver at the tone of his voice and look at him once more, foreheads touching. “mmmmm. love you toji.”

toji smiles at the confession, silently swooning and heart beating out of his chest at how sentimental you get during sex.

“i love you too sweetheart.” toji responds softly. he kisses your cheek before leaning back on the couch, smirking at you. “now how’s ‘bout you make toji cum?”

1,045 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#2

——— DESIRE

♡ : eren jaeger x female! reader

ᨳ  ࣪ . cw : ns4w, dom! eren, sub! reader, eren is a lil mean but not that much :), HEAVY edging -> edging for over a month ♡, squirting, overstimulation, subspace, sex toys, mentions of oral sex, nipple play, spanking, restraints, pussy slapping, ass play & fingering, profanity

ᨳ  ࣪ . wc : 2.9k

. synopsis : you haven’t cum in over a month…but its only what you asked for…

ᨳ  ࣪ . minors & blank blogs DNI

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2,451 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

eren x female reader, ns4w, very short, coming inside, morning sex

masterlists

no bc eren would be so whiny in the morning…he’d be so desperate too. his morning wood would be poking against your thigh while he shakes u gently to wake u up.

“babyy” calling out to you in his deep, tired morning voice. “baby wake up..need you righ’ now..haha..”

and you’re just as desperate, letting him pull down your shorts and spread your legs to play with your wet cunt. then he’s laying you two both on your sides, raising your leg to his hip before easing his thick length into hot pussy.

it’s starts off slow..both of you are still drowsy and weak from sleep but that doesn’t deter either of you. your faces are so close together, breathing against each other’s skin, lips brushing against each other, too far gone to even kiss. eren’s pretty eyes are almost constantly rolling into the back of his head at how good he feels. how good you feel. his body is so sensitive, the feeling of your hole around his cock is making him go fucking crazy.

“awh fuuckkk.” eren’s groaning as his thrust start to speed up just a lil bit…the angle has you feeling him real deep, you’re gasping at every gentle thrust, the slap slap slap of skin reverberating around the room. you feel a warmth spread in ur lil tummy, clit brushing against the pubic hairs at the base of his dick and your mouth drops open and eyes roll back at the feeling.

then erens gripping your ass with both hands and thrusting harder, faster, until you’re gripping the back of his neck with small oh my gods and other senseless profanities. eren rolls you onto your back before folding you into a mating press and going to town on you.

balls slapping against your ass with every thrust, long hair falling and draping around you like a curtain.

“shit..” eren whines, borderline whimpers. “shit…oh fuck..fuck..fuck ‘m g’nna cum. baby ‘m gonna fucking cum…” he’s looking at you, cheeks tinted red and lips wet. “can i cum inside? you’ll lemme come inside right?” his thrusts become frantic and erratic and you’re nodding along to his question. he thrusts at an angle that has you seeing white light, squirting and making a mess of him and the sheets. eren curses, rough fingers finding your clit, running circles over it to prolong your high. your hips twitch against his, rolling and grinding and coming to a stop.

“god, i’m cumming.. i’m cumming ‘m cumming…fuck!” his voice goes high pitched towards the end of his sentence and he’s finished. he pounds into you sporadically as he cums, pumping your soft walls white. he keeps thrusting…he comes soo much. his expression is erotic, eyes rolled back and tongue lolled out.

eren huffs and moans as the last few spurts of cum leave him, all fucked out. he pulls out slowly, looking at his cum drool out of your brown folds and fall below you. pulls you close and massages your shoulders and tells you what you and him are going to do for the day and you fall asleep to the sound of his soothing voice 💭

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2,466 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[shifahospitaltvl]

Gynaecologist & Obstetrician Doctors in Tirunelveli

     Women’s health is crucial; therefore, it is significant for women to receive the best treatment from the gynecologist and obstetric specialist. The Shifa Hospital in the city of Tirunelveli is a foremost choice for women’s comprehensive and quality healthcare throughout their lives.

     As the practice is managed by Dr. L. N. Radha, M. B. B. S., M. D., DGO, the facility aims at providing quality and friendly services to each of the patients who visit the facility.    In this case, a quality health care organization that meets and perhaps even exceeds the standards of women’s health care is the Shifa hospital. 

       Shifa Hospital has modern equipment and highly developed technologies of gynecology and obstetrics and is capable of providing superior quality of health care. Teamwork is also used to develop specific treatment procedures and create conditions that positively affect patient comfort and results.    Dr. L. N. Radha. 

      Dr. L. N. Radha is a well-experienced gynecologist and obstetrician (M. B. B. S., M. D., DGO) working in Shifa Hospital. After rigorous training and having worked for several years, Dr. Radha has the best knowledge about women’s health challenges.

      These qualities make her a preferred doctor by patients in the Tirunelveli, to add she has carved a niche for herself in the medical field.         Dr. Radha offers general and specialized services such as antenatal care, complications during pregnancy, infertility, and climacteric services.

    She can carry out the normal and challenging operations, which enable her to offer quality services to her patients.    Comprehensive Care for Women 

     To this end, I wish to confirm and assure the public that at Shifa Hospital, the patient is our topmost priority. This group of doctors is headed by Dr. Radha, and it offers proper diagnosis and treatment of gynecological and obstetric conditions.

      It therefore embarks on a comprehensive health care service delivery that includes the commonplace annual physical examination to the more demanding major surgery.    Commitment to Excellence 

     Shifa Hospital bears the standard and is committed to providing the best health care service to all its patients. We always leverage technology and the training of our employees in a bid to provide quality services.

     Therefore, under the leadership of Dr. L. N. Radha, the gynecology and obstetrics department of our hospital provides exemplary results to justify the best outcomes of our patients.         Specifically, for gynecology and obstetrics, patients in Tirunelveli would do well to turn to Shifa Hospital, where Dr. L. N. Radha and her team aim at nothing less than the best. We remain your ideal partner for all your women’s health concerns as we deliver a one-stop women’s health solution.