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astonmartinii · 2 months

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a spoonful of sugar part two | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar, here we go again

PART ONE | MASTERLIST | TIP JAR | MY SMALL BUSINESS

yourusername

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yourusername: we're in JAPAN 🇯🇵 WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO !!! yeah suzuka is cool and all but more importantly - SUSHI TIME and my oh my that spread is glorious if i do say so myself

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user1: oscar babygirlism is so real

landonorris: HOW DARE YOU GUYS INVITE ME OVER FOR DINNER AND SERVE THAT

yourusername: boo fucking hoo, i've had enough of your whining buddy

landonorris: OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEING MEAN

oscarpiastri: i mean i would take the home-cooked meal from the professional chef but that's just me

landonorris: stop shaming me :( i can't help it :(

yourusername: okay stop being dramatic, you can comeback from your hiding place i made chicken sushi as well

landonorris: oh thank you 😊

oscarpiastri: when i came in as the YOUNGER teammate, i didn't think y/n and i would be babysitting you

landonorris: you guys love me really

user2: i think y/n might have the patience of a saint

user3: i think i would die happy if i got a sushi spread from y/n

yukitsunoda0511: personally offended i was not invited :(

yourusername: nooooooooooo yukiii :((((( - i'll bring left overs ?

yukitsunoda0511: yes please (i'm much nicer than lando)

landonorris: when will the slander end?

oscarpiastri: i'm personally offended that any time y/n is visiting ME she ends up cooking and looking after all of you :(

yourusername: i love you the most though

oscarpiastri: hehehehehehe

user4: this relationship is so precious to me actually

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,094,558 others

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oscarpiastri: over the moon to get my first podium in f1 in my rookie season. p.s. get yourself a girlfriend that gives you a candy bouquet to celebrate your podium

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user5: oscodium i know that's right

mclarenf1: we don't think that's in your meal plan, but we'll let it slide for just this once

yourusername: damn right you will 🔫🔫🔫

oscarpiastri: okay no threatening my team on a post about my podium

yourusername: i guess they're fine (FOR NOW) (the next time i see team orders it's on sight)

mclarenf1: ... does this mean no more pasta parties? :(

yourusername: get my boy his first win and pasta for life for all of you

user6: the way y/n and oscar's mum both fell into each other when oscar crossed the finish line

user7: they're so real for that

user8: y/n is REAL wag representation, i too would go FUCKING mental if my boyf got a podium i would also be spraying champagne all over the garage and crying my eyes out

yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND I'M SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU MORE, THANK YOU FOR ALWAYS SUPPORTING ME - and looking after my mum after you caused a stampede in the garage

yourusername: hold on nicole is just as crazy as me

oscarpiastri: my two favourite women EVA

user9: when you're besties with your boyf's mum >>

landonorris: congrats oscahhhhhhh - how does one procure one of these bouquets?

oscarpiastri: hands off pal 🤨

landonorris: i just want CANDY STOP ACCUSING ME OF STUFF

yourusername: oh so now you want my food ....

landonorris: why are you ganging up on me ??? I'M JUST A CHILD ???

user10: i love watching oscar and y/n ganging up on lando

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 309,788 others

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logansargeant: category is: thirdwheeling - the food is a definite plus

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user12: the real best trio in f1 ... sorry 2019 rookies

alexalbon: logie bear beating the unseasoned allegations... i am impressed

logansargeant: i am cultured?

yourusername: logan had no choice, he was eating what i made him

logansargeant: but i liked it!

yourusername: you did, i'm a proud mother

alexalbon: what are the chances of me and james getting some of the y/n food, we deserve it more than mclaren

yourusername: name the price...

user13: i love how oscar and y/n have collected so many drivers this season despite being the youngest

oscarpiastri: not even finished my first season and we've accumulated so many "children"

logansargeant: don't have a gf who is such a good chef if you didn't want to babysit me

yourusername: we can't help it we're mOTHER

oscarpiastri: 💅

charles_leclerc: @oscarpiastri did our post podium dinner in aus mean nothing? you're neglecting your 26 year old child

maxverstappen1: classic treatment of the eldest girl 😔

yourusername: you guys done being dramatic?

charles_leclerc: one second

charles_leclerc: YOU'RE JUST THE SAME AS EVERYONE ELSE, PICK ME UP AND DROP ME - USERS !!!!

charles_leclerc: okay done :)

oscarpiastri: ok... idk what the fuck is going on here

maxverstappen1: we want food [bangs cutlery on imaginary table]

user14: oscar going from being the shy one on the grid to wrangling charles and max is killing me

user15: him and y/n have the grid wrapped around their finger

yourusername

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yourusername: this is everything you have ever deserved

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user18: i am going to throw myself on the track and let oscar run me over and put me out of my misery

oscarpiastri: i love you so much, couldn't do it without your support

yourusername: NUH UH you're SUPER DUPER AMAZINGLY FAST and i am lucky to be here to witness you :)

oscarpiastri: okay.... but no more passing out in the garage

yourusername: i'm just a girl 🎀

oscarpiastri: my girl x

yourusername: YOUR GIRL (i've seen the tiktok edits BACK OFF)

user19: the way the other team members and teams let them have their moment was so cute

user20: zak brown pushing her to the front to be able to see him on the podium... maybe i don't hate him as much as i thought

user21: her taking ten billion photos while crying her eyes out was so cute

yourusername: they're all blurry 🧍🏻‍♂️

maxverstappen1: i guess you're the only one i'll tolerate outshining my championship win... congrats oscar!

oscarpiastri: thank you max :) also thank you to gp for giving y/n an ice pack

yourusername: gp got his name on a piece of cake

maxverstappen1: what about my cake?

yourusername: i guess i can spare another slice for you

oscarpiastri: we can give you a whole cake tomorrow if you let me win tomorrow?

maxverstappen1: nice try dude

yourusername: you haven't tried it yet

oscarpiastri: it's laced with crack (literally, DQ coming fast)

maxverstappen1: ????

yourusername: we jest

oscarpiastri: or do we?

user22: is gp another person they've collected?

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 1,094,873 others

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oscarpiastri: no one else i'd rather celebrate with

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user23: they don't know it yet but they're actually my parents

user24: yeah, yeah oscar won a race woo BUT MAMA DROP THE RECIPE FOR THE THIRD SLIDE LOOKS LIKE IT BANGS

yourusername: i'm so unbelievably proud of you oscar, crying in the club right now

oscarpiastri: i didn't know the shower was also called the club (i can hear you crying and though i'm grateful you are this happy for me, it's getting slightly concerning)

yourusername: i just can't contain my excitement for you and it's turned into tears HAPPY TEARS

oscarpiastri: my mum can hear it from her room as well

yourusername: can't believe i'm being shamed like this

landonorris: will you cry this much for my first win

yourusername: nope, actively praying against it

landonorris: WHAT ??? OSCAR STOP HER SHE'S BEEN TOO MEAN THIS TIME

yourusername: i only want oscar to win every race from now until he retires soz buddy

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds like a good deal to me lando

landonorris: @yourusername i hope you drown in your tears

user25: well that escalated

danielricciardo: proud of you baby aussie !!! how can we get some aussie bbq in the paddock as celebration @yourusername 🤭

yourusername: someone get me a grill asap

danielricciardo: okay max it's time to stop being selfish, let oscar win another race so we can get more bbq i'm homesick

maxverstappen1: that's cute and all but FUCK THEM KIDS

yourusername: well no bbq for you then

maxverstappen1: you and oscar love me really

oscarpiastri: ???

user26: the way y/n tussles with these men kills me

user27: at this point get her a microphone and get her on that grid walk

mclarenf1

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mclarenf1: y/n delivered the pasta party she promised (admin is now in a food coma no more posts for the rest of the day)

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user28: the way we all thought this was a joke... i am now unwell

user29: dead ass the cutest thing i've ever seen

yourusername: thank you for having me besties, thank you for giving oscar a fast car and i hope you all actually make your flights in your pasta-induced naps

mclarenf1: that carbonara has me snoozing up a storm

oscarpiastri: (we nearly missed our flight)

landonorris: worth it, that pasta banged

yourusername: why thank you everyone i am blushing

yourusername: but real talk when does all this pasta translate into team orders in oscar's favour

mclarenf1: i don't think that's in my job description

landonorris: ...

oscarpiastri: well....

yourusername: you're making me look like a bad person 😭 i just want oscar to have the best possible time ever

oscarpiastri: i love you <3

landonorris: ugh... i guess that's cute

user30: i have never been more jealous ever in my life and it's over PASTA

georgerussell63: i am mobilising the GDPA against this. it's either pasta for ALL of us or NONE of us

yourusername: bring back seb you big wet wipe

georgerussell63: EXCUSE YOU!

charles_leclerc: i am an honourary italian and i am quite frankly offended i was not at least offered the left overs

oscarpiastri: but this was my special pasta party for my sprint win :(

georgerussell63: don't try and use that very cute and wholesome excuse with me mister, we have been robbed of pasta

yourusername: you queens are so dramatic i can't

user31: this sport is so unserious, they wouldn't protest over the conditions this weekend but pasta is where they draw the line 😭

yourusername

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yourusername: if you're at COTA come on down to my bbq station it's mr america (@logansargeant) approved

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user33: miss ma'am is really raising the bar for all wags at this point

user34: who else is doing up masterchef at the track

logansargeant: i can confirm it is very good

yourusername: i knew there was a reason we love you logie bear

logansargeant: the ribs were so good you should honestly get an american passport

user35: guys i went and omg IT WAS SO FUCKING GOOD + y/n was so fucking nice and said all proceeds are going to helping disadvantaged children get into karting

user36: my heart is so full i love them

maxverstappen1: slowing me down by making me have bbq i see how it is

yourusername: no one forced you to eat it buddy

maxverstappen1: well it's steak and mac and cheese ur dumb if you think i'm NOT fucking it up

yourusername: you got me there

danielricciardo: that was scrummy

charles_leclerc: petition for this to be here every week

georgerussell63: this just makes me more angry about missing out on pasta

user37: oscar is so much stronger than me cause if i had y/n i'd be asking for an absolute feast all of the time and would not stick to my meal plan

oscarpiastri: my favourite person doing her favourite thing <3

yourusername: you're my favourite thing

landonorris: keep that to yourself

yourusername: i can't love my bf now?

landonorris: that man is a child keep it PG

oscarpiastri: you made it not PG

yourusername: stop forcing your agenda on us lando

landonorris: i can't win with you people

oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: first season done. proud. ready to eat like a king

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user38: i don't think i've ever barked in response to a picture of food

landonorris: where's mineeeeee :((((((((

oscarpiastri: season is over mate. y/n is back to being mine and mine only, we're hibernating in aus

landonorris: selfish

yourusername: let us eat our sushi in peace this off season

user39: oscar ready to keep y/n to himself what a king

oscarpiastri: tired of sharing my gf :( i know she's the bestest ever but still i was getting separation anxiety when she was stolen to make food for george

georgerussell63: no regrets

yourusername: you were always a king, but i'm ready to treat you like royalty

oscarpiastri: right back at you, queen

yourusername: all the food WE want all off season

maxverstappen1: okay guys we can hear you

charles_leclerc: this is no way to talk about your 27 year old children honestly

landonorris: i'm calling childline actually

yourusername: feel free girl, kiss my ass cause you won't see it for months

landonorris: GASP!

oscarpiastri: that's been brewing, stop asking y/n to make you chicken dippers bro

landonorris: :(

yourusername: regardless of all the tomfoolery and the stray cats (drivers) we've picked up, i'm so proud of you oscar - here's to an even better year next year

oscarpiastri: thank you, my love. couldn't do it without you. i love you.

yourusername: i love you too osc

fin.

note: heyyy?? yeah i've kinda gone missing in action. i am working on the last two WIPs but i am so busy and my writers block is so bad i had to revisit an old fave lol. hope yall enjoy !

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri

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baby-dr1ver · 6 months

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max and his size kink

warnings: physical descriptions of someone small, semi smut

a/n: as a bigger girl I feel there isn't enough representation for us when it comes to size kinks so, I'll be doing another one of these.

Just thunk a thought about Max

A size kink to him isn’t just that he’s taller than you. No no no no. it’s that he’s literally bigger than you. He’s so broad and compared to your tiny frame. He’s got those huge arms that wrap around your neck when he’s got you on your tummy. Your chin lay on his elbow as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “Taking me so good baby, my little baby.”

Or when he has you against the wall, pounding in you with everything he has and you just can’t keep up with him. Your legs begging to give out but Max will scoop you up against his big strong hips that you can feel flex with every sharp movement he makes. He’d cradle your face in just one of his hands and forces you to keep your eyes on him. Oh he’d squish your cheeks so your lips puckered and spit right in-

Speaking of hands, Max loves to see the comparison of your hands. He’d line them up and see how much wider his palm was compared to yours, or how much longer his fingers were. So much so that he’d force you to your knees to get him off. Loves seeing your small hands around his thick cock, how you’d have to use two hands because your one couldn’t around it all the way.

Max loves to shove his fingers in your mouth at any given chance. Sometimes he’ll just cup your face gently, just admiring you for a second to let your head get fuzzy and then oh! Look at that, he’s two fingers deep in your throat and your taking it like the goodest girl. And he’s smiling at you with those big lips that are just so good to bite on, making you melt into a god damn puddle of arousal, and could make you do anything.

Or oh fuck those thighs. Jesus christ he could take out anyone with those things. They’re like pythons ready to attack. He knows this, of course he does, and he’s so fucking cocky about it. When your watching him getting interviewed, he’ll keep his legs spread open to get you worked up. Reminding you of all the times he had you between his thighs, or on top of them. He could spot that look of lust for him a mile away knowing he’d have you riding his big thighs for hours until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore.

Or maybe, and hear me out…just sitting there between them. Like when he’s sitting on the couch and suddenly everything is just fuzzy. He’d been doting on you all day and you just have the urge to sit between his legs and lay your head on his thigh. He’d love to see the look of adoration on your face as you just, watched him. Max would also love when he’d be on sim and you’d somehow find a way to sit between his thighs. Theres very little room to begin with but somehow you manage.

Max just loves how much bigger he his than you.

kinktober <3

#formula one #formula one x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reade #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x y/n #red bull racing #formula one imagine

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cripplecharacters · 28 days

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The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media

[large text: The Mask Trope, and Disfiguremisia in Media]

If you followed this blog for more than like a week, you're probably familiar with “the mask trope” or at least with me complaining about it over and over in perpetuity. But why is it bad and why can't this dude shut up about it?

Let's start with who this trope applies to: characters with facial differences. There is some overlap with blind characters as well; think of the blindfold that is forced on a blind character for no reason. Here is a great explanation of it in this context by blindbeta. It's an excellent post in general, even if your character isn't blind or low vision you should read at least the last few paragraphs.

Here's a good ol’ tired link to what a facial difference is, but to put it simply:

If you have a character, who is a burn survivor or has scars, who wears a mask, this is exactly this trope.

The concept applies to other facial differences as well, but scars and burns are 99% of the representation and “representation” we get, so I'll be using these somewhat interchangeably here.

The mask can be exactly what you think, but it refers to any facial covering that doesn't have a medical purpose. So for example, a CPAP mask doesn't count for this trope, but a Magic Porcelain Mask absolutely does. Bandages do as well. If it covers the part of the face that is “different”, it can be a mask in the context used here.

Eye patches are on thin ice because while they do serve a medical purpose in real life, in 99.9% of media they are used for the same purpose as a mask. It's purely aesthetic.

With that out of the way, let's get into why this trope sucks and find its roots. Because every trope is just a symptom of something, really.

Roughly in order of the least to most important reasons...

Why It Sucks

[large text: Why It Sucks]

It's overdone. As in — boring. You made your character visibly different, and now they're no longer that. What is the point? Just don't give them the damn scar if you're going to hide it.

Zero connection with reality. No one does this. I don't even know how to elaborate on this. This doesn't represent anyone because no one does this.

Disability erasure. For the majority of characters with facial differences, their scars or burns somehow don't disable them physically, so the only thing left is the visible part… aaand the mask takes care of it too. Again, what's the point? If you want to make your disabled character abled, then just have them be abled. What is the point of "curing" them other than to make it completely pointless?

Making your readers with facial differences feel straight up bad. I'm gonna be honest! This hurts to see when it's all you get, over and over. Imagine there's this thing that everyone bullied you about, everyone still stares at, that is with you 24/7. Imagine you wanted to see something where people like you aren't treated like a freakshow. Somewhat unrealistic, but imagine that. That kind of world would only exist in fiction, right? So let's look into fiction- oh, none of the positive (or at least not "child-murderer evil") characters look like me. I mean they do, but they don't. They're forced to hide the one thing that connects us. I don't want to hide myself. I don't want to be told over and over that this is what people like me should do. That this is what other people expect so much that it's basically the default way a person with a facial difference can exist. I don't want this.

Perpetuating disfiguremisia.

"Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk

[large text: "Quick" Disfiguremisia Talk]

It's quick when compared to my average facial difference discussion post, bear with me please.

Disfiguremisia; portmanteau of disfigure from “disfigurement” and -misia, Greek for hatred.

Also known as discrimination of those mythical horrifically deformed people.

It shows up in fiction all the time; in-universe and in-narrative. Mask trope is one of the most common* representations of it, and it's also a trope that is gaining traction more and more, both in visual art and writing. This is a trope I particularly hate, because it's a blatant symptom of disfiguremisia. It's not hidden and it doesn't try to be. It's a painful remainder that I do not want nor need.

*most common is easily “evil disfigured villain”, just look at any horror media. But that's for another post, if ever.

When you put your character in a mask, it sends a clear message: in your story, facial differences aren't welcome. The world is hostile. Other characters are hostile. The author is, quite possibly, hostile. Maybe consciously, but almost always not, they just don't think that disfiguremisia means anything because it's the default setting. No one wants to see you because your face makes you gross and unsightly. If you have a burn; good luck, but we think you're too ugly to have a face. Have a scar? Too bad, now you don't. Get hidden.

Everything here is a decision that was made by the author. You are the one who makes the world. You are the person who decides if being disabled is acceptable or not there. The story doesn't have a mind of its own, you chose to make it disfiguremisic.

It doesn't have to be.

Questions to Ask Yourself

[large text: Questions to Ask Yourself]

Since I started talking about facial differences on this blog, I have noticed a very specific trend in how facial differences are treated when compared to other disabilities. A lot of writers and artists are interested in worldbuilding where accessibility is considered, where disabled people are accepted, where neurodivergence is seen as an important part of the human experience, not something “other”. This is amazing, genuinely.

Yet, absolutely no one seems to be interested in a world that is anything but cruel to facial differences. There's no escapist fantasies for us.

You see this over and over, at some point it feels like the same story with different names attached.

The only way a character with a facial difference can exist is to hide it. Otherwise, they are shamed by society. Seen as something gross. I noticed that it really doesn't matter who the character is, facial difference is this great equalizer. Both ancient deities and talking forest cats get treated as the same brand of disgusting thing as long as they're scarred, as long as they had something explode in their face, as long as they've been cursed. They can be accomplished, they can be a badass, they can be the leader of the world, they can kill a dragon, but they cannot, under any circumstances, be allowed to peacefully exist with a facial difference. They have to hide it in the literal sense, or be made to feel that they should. Constantly ashamed, embarrassed that they dare to have a face.

Question one to ask yourself: why is disfiguremisia a part of your story?

I'm part of a few minority groups. I'm an immigrant, I'm disabled, I'm queer. I get enough shit in real life for this so I like to take a break once in a while. I love stories where transphobia isn't a thing. Where xenophobia doesn't come up. But my whole life, I can't seem to find stories that don't spew out disfiguremisia in one way or the other at the first possible opportunity.

Why is disfiguremisia a default part of your worldbuilding? Why can't it be left out? Why in societies with scarred saviors and warriors is there such intense disgust for them? Why can't anyone even just question why this is the state of the world?

Why is disfiguremisia normal in your story?

Question two: do you know enough about disfiguremisia to write about it?

Ask yourself, really. Do you? Writers sometimes ask if or how to portray ableism when they themselves aren't disabled, but no one bothers to wonder if maybe they aren't knowledgeable enough to make half their story about their POV character experiencing disfiguremisia. How much do you know, and from where? Have you read Mikaela Moody or any other advocates’ work around disfiguremisia? Do you understand the way it intersects; with being a trans woman, with being Black? What is your education on this topic?

And for USAmericans... do you know what "Ugly Laws" are, and when they ended?

Question three: what does your story associate with facial difference — and why?

If I had to guess; “shame”, “embarrassment”, “violence”, "disgust", “intimidation”, “trauma”, “guilt”, “evil”, “curse”, “discomfort”, “fear”, or similar would show up.

Why doesn't it associate it with positive concepts? Why not “hope” or “love” or “pride” or “community”? Why not “soft” or “delicate”? Dare I say, “beauty” or “innocence”? Why not “blessing”? “Acceptance”?

Why not “normal”?

Question four: why did you make the character the way they are?

Have you considered that there are other things than “horrifically burned for some moral failing” or “most traumatic scenario put to paper”? Why is it always “a tough character with a history of violence” and never “a Disfigured princess”? Why not “a loving parent” or “a fashionable girl”, instead of “the most unkind person you ever met” and “total badass who doesn’t care about anything - other than how scary their facial difference is to these poor ableds”? Don’t endlessly associate us with brutality and suffering. We aren’t violent or manipulative or physically strong or brash or bloodthirsty by default. We can be soft, and frail and gentle and kind - and we can still be proud and unashamed.

Question five: why is your character just… fine with all this?

Can’t they make a community with other people with facial differences and do something about this? Demand the right to exist as disabled and not have to hide their literal face? Why are they cool with being dehumanized and treated with such hatred? Especially if they fall into the "not so soft and kind" category that I just talked about, it seems obvious to me that they would be incredibly and loudly pissed off about being discriminated against over and over... Why can't your character, who is a subject of disfiguremisia, realize that maybe it's disfiguremisia that's the problem, and try to fix it?

Question six: why is your character wearing a mask?

Usually, there's no reason. Most of the time the author hasn't considered that there even should be one, the character just wears a mask because that's what people with facial differences do in their mind. Most writers aren't interested in this kind of research or even considering it as a thing they should do. The community is unimportant to them, it's not like we are real people who read books. They think they understand, because to them it's not complex, it's not nuanced. It's ugly = bad. Why would you need a reason?

For cases where the reason is stated, I promise, I have heard of every single one. To quote, "to spare others from looking at them". I have read, "content warning: he has burn scars under the mask, he absolutely hates taking it off!", emphasis not mine. Because "he hates the way his skin looks", because "they care for their appearance a lot" (facial differences make you ugly, remember?). My favorite: "only has scars and the mask when he's a villain, not as a hero", just to subtly drive the point home. This isn't the extreme end of the spectrum. Now, imagine being a reader with a facial difference. This is your representation, sitting next to Freddy Krueger and Voldemort.

How do you feel?

F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]

[large text: F.A.Q. [frequently asked questions]]

As in, answers and “answers” to common arguments or concerns.

“Actually they want to hide their facial difference” - your character doesn’t have free will. You want them to hide it. Again; why.

“They are hiding it to be more inconspicuous!” - I get that there are elves in their world, but there’s no universe where wearing a mask with eye cutouts on the street is less noticeable than having a scar. Facial differences aren’t open wounds sprinkling with blood, in case that's not clear.

“It’s for other people's comfort” - why are other characters disfiguremisic to this extent? Are they forcing all minorities to stay hidden and out of sight too? That’s a horrible society to exist in.

“They are wearing it for Actual Practical Reason” - cool! I hope that this means you have other characters with facial differences that don’t wear it for any reason.

"It's the character's artistic expression" - I sure hope that there are abled characters with the same kind of expression then.

“They’re ashamed of their face” - and they never have any character development that would make that go away? That's just bad writing. Why are they ashamed in the first place? Why is shame the default stance to have about your own face in your story? I get that you think we should be ashamed and do these ridiculous things, but in real life we just live with it.

"Now that you say that it is kinda messed up but I'm too far into the story please help" - here you go.

“[some variation of My Character is evil so it's fine/a killer so it fits/just too disgusting to show their disability” - this is the one of the only cases where I’m fine with disability erasure, actually. Please don’t make them have a facial difference. This is the type of harm that real life activists spend years and decades undoing. Disfiguremisia from horror movies released in the 70s is still relevant. It still affects people today.

"But [in-universe explanation why disfiguremisia is cool and fine actually]" - this changes nothing.

Closing Remarks

[large text: Closing Remarks]

I hope that this post explains my thoughts on facial difference representation better. It's a complicated topic, I get it. I'm also aware that this post might come off as harsh (?) but disfiguremisia shouldn't be treated lightly, it shouldn't be a prop. It's real world discrimination with a big chunk of its origins coming out of popular media.

With the asks that have been sent regarding facial differences, I realized that I probably haven't explained what the actual problems are well enough. It's not about some technical definition, or about weird in-universe explanations. It's about categorizing us as some apparently fundamentally different entity that can't possibly be kind and happy, about disfiguremisia so ingrained into our culture that it's apparently impossible to make a world without it; discrimination so deep that it can't be excised, only worked around. But you can get rid of it. You can just not have it there in the first place. Disfiguremisia isn't a fundamental part of how the world works; getting rid of it won't cause it to collapse. Don't portray discrimination as an integral, unquestionable part of the world that has to stay no matter what; whether it's ableism, transphobia, or Islamophobia or anything else. A world without discrimination can exist. If you can't imagine a world without disfiguremisia in fiction... that's bad. Sad, mostly. To me, at least.

Remember, that your readers aren't going to look at Character with a Scar #14673 and think "now I'm going to research how real life people with facial differences live." They won't, there's no inclination for them to do so. If you don't give them a reason, they won't magically start thinking critically about facial differences and disfiguremisia. People like their biases and they like to think that they understand.

And, even if you're explaining it over and over ;-) (winky face) there will still be people who are going to be actively resistant to giving a shit. To try and get the ones who are capable of caring about us, you, as the author, need to first understand disfiguremisia, study Face Equality, think of me as a human being with human emotions who doesn't want to see people like me treated like garbage in every piece of media I look at. There's a place and time for that media, and if you don't actually understand disfiguremisia, you will only perpetuate it; not "subvert" it, not "comment" on it.

I hope this helps :-) (smile emoji. for good measure)

Mod Sasza

#mod sasza #disfiguremisia #face difference #mask trope #writing trope #writing resource #writing reference #writing resources #writing advice #writeblr #writing tips #long post #burn survivor representation

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nonlethal-au · 9 months

Text

[ masterlist ]

Non-Lethal AU (abbreviated: NOL)

If you find this via a repost, please check original post to see the latest updates!

⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫ • notices • ⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬

Do NOT tag any post as errink, or imply it in tags or comments.

*Doing so will result in an immediate block.

**NOL!Ink is repulsed aroace, he also is an insert/representation of me, a real person. Neither I nor N are comfortable with the ship here. - Dove

× temporary notices

Askbox is officially closed for now, please wait for the next opening to send in anything. thank you! - Dove

I forgot to note this but kindly, do not dub this for now, I have no idea how I feel abt it yet and I'll update when I decide (this takes a while so im saying it now) - eN

⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫ • tags • ⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬

For tags surrounded with [ ], they're meant to be blog specific. They're tagged in this post so you can find posts with them easier :>

× original posts

[ NOL Thread ] - Main comic, story stuff

[ NOL Ask ] - Asks answered

[ NOL Art ] - Artwork related to the AU

[ NOL Reference ] - References for the AU

[ IC ] - In-character messages

[ OOC ] - Out-of-character messages like announcements

× other posts

[ NOL Submit ] - Submissions

[ Message Received ] - Art made by others

⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫ • links • ⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬

× au-related

Credits - A post crediting the characters and assets used for this series.

The Very Beginning - The start of [ NOL Thread ].

× outside

Ko-Fi - Get early access and bonus content by becoming a member! (Must be 16 and over!)

@impostortale - eN's other AU about a shapeshifter.

⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫ • admins • ⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬⤬

eN // @s3-izures: AU creator, pro complainer, and main artist.

Dove // @aoartmthebitxh: Moderator, writer, storyboard artist, and Ink consultant <3

Kia // @dreemurr-skelememer: Moral support.

#[ MASTERLIST ]#[ NOL Ask ]#[ NOL Art ]#[ NOL Thread ]#[ OOC ]#[ IC ]#[ NOL Submit ]#[ Message Received ]#[ NOL Reference ]

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aromantic-diaries · 2 months

Text

Yknow I feel more represented by characters who aren't confirmed to be aro/ace or even written as such, but can still be interpreted that way because of how they're characterized, rather than characters who are confirmed to be aro/ace through word of god while the actual story has no implications of that character being aro/ace beyond them not having a love interest. The latter kind of waters it down to not wanting to date or have sex which isn't really all there is to it. I get that not all representation has to be a 100% accurate, deep and touching depiction of the aro/ace experience, but that doesn't mean completely ignoring the character's identity beyond not giving them a love interest.

I will elaborate with two examples under the cut

So for the word of god representation, let's take Lilith Clawthorne from the owl house as an example. I think she's a great character, I liked her, and I think the owl house is a fantastic show that deserved better. However I don't think of Lilith as good representation because the only real confirmation we have is outside of the actual show. It's not in the canon material, she doesn't have a love interest but she's not even the only character who stays single so that doesn't mean much. She isn't shown to be any different from anyone, her being aroace isn't really relevant in any way. I'd say the best word for describing this type of representation is Passive. We know she's aroace because it was confirmed outside of the show, she doesn't have a love interest, but it doesn't really go beyond that. I get that the show was cut short and maybe it would have been elaborated on more but that's just a generous assumption on my part. My point is, I don't really see any real aro or ace experiences reflected in her character, neither mine or anyone else's. She doesn't really represent any actual aspec experiences at all which is why I don't consider her to be good representation. I still understand the community's attachment to her though, we take what we can get and what we get is very little. So while I love the owl house, the aroace representation is pretty dissapointing compared to the great representation of other queer identities and I'm kinda bummed that the aroace character still gets sidelined in an otherwise very queer friendly show

For another example I'll bring up my all time favorite, Rudy Waltz, protagonist of the book Deadeye Dick by Kurt Vonnegut. Deadeye Dick is not a feel good story. The story is dark, bitter and the conclusion is no different. Still, I would describe it as oddly comforting and pretty funny at times. So what does that have to do with anything? Well, our Rudy can very well be interpreted as asexual and probably aromantic as well. He isn't referred to as such, he describes himself as a neuter, the author states in the preface that the protagonist's disinterest is a metaphor for his own declining sexuality, and the book was written before the term aromantic was even coined. However, as an aromantic asexual reading the book, I could not help but deeply relate to Rudy's lack of interest in ever having sex or finding a romantic partner. I felt kinship with him as he described knowing how many people there are who are just like him and yet they go unnoticed by most people, because I was one of those people. I related to him and the way his disinterest in sex was met with such confusion from another character. Despite not being described as such, Deadeye Dick is very much in part an asexual and an aromantic story because the protagonist's experiences line up with that of someone on those spectrums. You could argue that calling him aroace is problematic due to him fitting a negative stereotype due to his emotional detachment, or that he only fits the label because of said detachment, but that does not change the fact that he is still better representation than a character who was confirmed outside of the story with no real implications. I see myself in Rudy more than I do in Lilith because Rudy actually feels like an aroace character

Anyways, rant over. Feel free to disagree with me

#aro #aromantic #arospec #ace #asexual #acespec #aroace #aspec

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deerspherestudios · 4 months

Text

📖FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS📖

Regarding asks, I typically avoid:

stacked questions (asks that have more than one question, so honestly, sending them one by one is better than writing a bunch in one go)

hyperspecific scenarios (while I enjoy answering these, some can get incredibly specific to the point where it doesn't even feel fun anymore)

questions that have already been answered (obviously)

To manage the blog, I usually queue up asks instead of posting them instantly, so it might take several weeks for me to respond. Please be patient! And while I appreciate the time and thought taken to writing me a message and the growing interest in the game, understand I'm still one person and will sometimes leave a message unanswered. Thank you. ❤️

Below is a compilation of questions I get a lot, so if you have a question feel free to check if it's already been answered! The list will update as needed:

🎮 F.A.Q ABOUT THE GAME 🎮

1. What is Mushroom Oasis❔ What is the rating❔

Mushroom Oasis is a visual novel made in Ren'Py that was initially released for the 2023 Yandere Game Jam. It's currently still in development as a solo project. I post updates almost exclusively on this tumblr so if you're interested in the game, you're in the right place. The rating is 16+. How did I come up with the concept?

2. How many days will the game have❔ When will it release❔

I initially planned it to have 4-5 days! But with some new ideas and routes I'm considering, it might extend to 5+ days. As for a release date, it's done when it's done. So please allow me the time to develop it at my pace <3

3. Will the game be translated to other languages❔

I'll be honest, I had no plans to. However, a few people have reached out volunteering to. I'll say for now I'm open to the idea, but I prefer people asking permission first. First and foremost, ask first.

4. Will the game be available for mobile❔

For now, a hard no. I have zero clue how to make it available for mobile. Maybe I'll consider it once the game is fully released, but it's only for PC and Mac for now, as those are the default builds in Ren'Py.

5. Is NSFW content allowed❔

Considering the main love interest is an adult, that's fine. However I'd appreciate proper filtering of NSFW content considering the game's age rating means there's more than a few minors in the fandom. NSFW questions aren't allowed on the blog.

Keep it where it's meant to be with proper tagging separate from the '#mushroom oasis vn' tag. Using '#mushroom oasis nsfw' should be enough? I hope.

NOTE: Now, I understand some people are really passionate about Mychael being asexual, but I can't bring myself to police people for mischaracterizing his asexuality, nor would I want to gatekeep him either.

He's a fictional character first and foremost, and while representation is important!!!/gen /srs I don't want to bring attention to any such content in case it brings unwanted harrassment on that creator for posting such content.

Please don't do that. Let people make what they wanna make. It's unfortunate, but fandom will be fandom.

6. Will there be other love interests? Will it have multiple endings❔

Due to project scope, the only romance-able character for MO is Mychael himself. The game will have multiple endings however, ranging from romantic ending, platonic ending to creepy/bad endings (because, y'know, yandere).

7. Will there be official merch?

As a college student and soon-to-be fresh graduate, the income would be nice haha. As I keep working on the game (and once I'm done with college in March) I'll definitely look into making them someday!

🍄 F.A.Q ABOUT MYCHAEL🍄

1. What are his pronouns and sexuality and age❔

He identifies as male, uses he/him pronouns and is a panromantic asexual. He's older than you think. ::-)

2. What is his height❔

He's 6'2. He used to be 5'8.

3. When is his birthday❔

Initially it was 15th February! Simply because I happened to start designing him that day, hence his 'creation'.

I might pick another date though; for now, his birthday is undecided.

4. Favorite food and drink❔

He loves fried mushrooms and tomato juice! He hates spicy food though, as the smell and taste makes him physically ill.

5. Do you have a voice claim for him❔

Initially it was Jonathan Groff, specifically his role as Kristoff in Frozen. But nowadays I'm not sure. Feel free to give suggestions! Do note I imagine him sounding as an older male in his late 20s.

6. What is Mychael's love language❔

I explain it in-depth here!

TL;DR: He likes giving gifts, and likes receiving words of affirmation.

7. How is Mychael's affection towards MC (blog-centric only)❔

So for context, as I manage the blog sometimes Mychael makes an appearance in answered asks. His answers can change depending on when you ask at the current state of the demo:

Day 1:

Day 2:

It's just something for fun as I manage the blog when answering asks. (Though don't expect a solid implementation of this anytime soon, as I'm busy with college until March 2024. Until then!)

EXTRAS:

Mychael's Character Ref

Firefly (MC)'s Character Ref

Mychael's Playlist

Mushroom Oasis' Playlist

Bad Ending 1 Explained

#mushroom oasis vn

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idyllicidols · 1 year

Text

The Bridesmaid.

Weddings are always a drag. You're no one special, not part of the wedding party, just someone who is in attendance out of obligation. You take your seat near the back of the venue, out of the limelight, keeping to yourself.

"The maid of honor's a milf… I'd take the one next to her back if I had a few drinks in me…Damn! that one's really pretty…Holy fuck! Look at the pair of tits on the one at the end."

It becomes clear that the back of the venue is where the peanut gallery likes to hang out–whispering their thoughts on each member of the bride's wedding party to each other. You know you shouldn't eavesdrop, but there's no avoiding hearing their conversation.

"Bro what do you think?" One of them nudges you with their elbow.

"I can't argue with you guys, especially those tits at the end."

They were right. The shapely fit of the light pink bridesmaid dress helped to perfectly accentuate the deep cleavage of the bridesmaid at the end. Beyond the tits are milky white legs, and a perfectly shaped face. If you didn't know any better, you would think she was an artificial intelligence representation of the perfect woman.

Your eyes stay glued on to her throughout the whole ceremony, the bride and groom barely registering on your radar. The whole wedding ends in a blur and the host announces it's time for cocktail hour.

"Hey." Of all the people to be in front of you in line for drinks, it's the same person you've been staring at. Her voice is full of confidence, instantly grabbing your attention.

"Hey. The wedding was beautiful and I must say you looked great up there."

"Please, like you even paid attention to the wedding. I could practically feel your eyes all over me." She boldly states, having no sense of shyness and a naughty glint in her eyes.

"Maybe for a bit. It wasn't like I was staring or anything. Once those other guys pointed you out, I couldn't help but catch a glimpse for myself." You try to match her, not showing any kind of weakness.

"You were practically staring daggers at me the whole time." Karina strongly retorts. "...But wait, what were they saying about me?"

Karina is hot and she knows it. Perfectly compliant to build her ego, without missing a beat, your eyes wander downwards and lock on to her bountiful, deep cleavage.

She squeezes her arms together emphasizing her cleavage even more, "Well I can't say I blame them. Seems like you also agree." She laughs seeing your glazed over expression and grabs her drink. "Well I'll see you around." She brushes her hand against yours, turning around one last time to give a naughty look.

While weddings weren't your thing, an open bar and an open dance floor is a hard thing to deny. While there are plenty of beautiful women around, you couldn't help but occasionally steal glances towards Karina. The longer the night goes on, the more flirtatious she becomes. The same men that were ogling her earlier all end up ensnared in her trap.

One by one, she dances with each of them. Seemingly innocent actions only entangle them deeper in her net: an innocuous brush of her breasts against their arms, leaning back while they stare down her dress giving them a better view. Their eyes speak silent words, each of them mentally undressing her, imagining how perky her tits are without the confines of clothing, how soft they would feel in their hands.

You aren't spared of her attacks, she leans her back into your chest, rubbing her ass against your crotch while giving you a clear view down her dress. There's only so much a man can take before he's about to fall off the cliff.

Perhaps it's the open bar opening up inhibitions. Perhaps it's the loving atmosphere of a wedding. Most likely it's the most gorgeous woman you've ever met grinding her ass against your cock.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your voice full of authority.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me all night. Lead the way." Her fingers intertwine with yours, following you out of the ballroom and towards the elevators.

All bets are off the second the door to your hotel room clicks. Karina jumps into your arms, wrapping her legs around your waist, kissing at you wildly while you stumble your way to the bed. Your back hits the mattress and Karina is all business–quickly straddling your waist, and making a show out of slowly slipping off her dress.

The heat radiating off her body makes you want to do nothing more than to plunge right in, but Karina has a different idea.

"How many guys do you think imagined seeing me like this?" Karina seductively says, teasingly inching the fabric of her dress down. Slowly, but surely, the pink fabric slides down lower and lower, exposing more and more until she gets right above her nipples.

She guides one of your hands to cup her right tit, you can't help but give it a squeeze–the feeling in your hand unbelievable: firm, yet somehow pillowy soft at the same time. Karina doesn't need words to tell you she's enjoying it, letting out a light moan while she makes circular motions of her hips. Her strip tease continues, lowering her dress just enough so that her nipples are exposed.

Unable to wait any longer, you suddenly yank down the rest of the top, setting free her two giant mounds. Your palms continue to knead and massage the most perfect set of tits you've ever laid eyes upon.

"Mmm baby do my tits feel good in your hands? Get a good feel of them. How many of those other guys wished they were in your position right now?"

While you could've spent the rest of your life a happy man just fondling Karina, there's a burning desire in your loins. The wet, warm sensation you feel on your lap tells you that Karina has the same animalistic needs.

The time for foreplay is already well past expired, two bodies needing nothing more than to be intertwined. Karina is quick to undo your belt and buttons, your cock immediately springing into a ready position. She takes your hardness into her hand and aligns it with her dripping core. The bridesmaid dress is perfectly designed where all she needs to do is move her panties to the side.

"Aren't you a lucky boy? So many men fucking me with their eyes and here you are about to fuck me with your cock."

You can feel Karina's tight pussy gripping your cock as your tip finally penetrates her silky walls. You can't help but moan with pleasure as her giant tits jiggle with every bounce. She looks so sexy, her eyes closed in pleasure as she rides you.

"Oh my god," you gasp, your hands gripping her hips tightly as she moves.

"Yes?" she purrs, her eyes opening slightly, giggling at her own joke.

"You feel so good."

She smiles and starts to move faster, her hips rocking back and forth.

"I love the way you feel," she whispers, almost talking to herself.

Karina moans and her nails dig into your chest, her body quivering with pleasure. You can feel her body tensing as she gets closer and closer. Your hips start to move, eventually syncing your thrusts with her riding, driving her closer to the brink.

Suddenly, she cries out, her body arching as she cums. You can feel her muscles clenching around you as wave after wave of pleasure washes over her. You keep thrusting, pushing her further and further until she’s screaming and shaking with pleasure.

Finally, she collapses against you, her body trembling and her breathing ragged. You hold her close, your hands stroking her back as she slowly comes back to reality.

“That was amazing,” she gasps, her voice still shaky.

You smile and kiss her forehead, “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Karina smiles and snuggles closer, her body still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure. You kiss her softly, your hands still exploring her body as you slowly rock her back and forth.

Karina starts to stir up again, expertly bouncing her hips while you still hold her in embrace. Her sensitivity is still at an all time high, every reentry into her tight pussy sending signal after signal of endorphins throughout her body.

You can feel her body responding to your touch as she continues to ride you. She moans and gasps as she holds in her impending orgasm for as long as she can– each time pushing her further than before.

Finally, she cries out, her body shuddering as she cums again. You thrust upwards, your own pleasure building as you feel her orgasm around you.

You can't help but moan louder as she increases the pace, her tight pussy milking you for all you're worth. You can feel yourself getting closer and closer and you grab onto her hips to slow down her movements.

"'FUCK! I'm almost there" you groan, your voice low and ragged.

Karina suddenly stops bouncing, but smiles and leans further into your embrace. The amazing squishiness of her giant tits are pressed against your chest while she shoves her tongue into your mouth. After a few moments, she breaks the kiss, gives you a wink, then starts kissing at your neck.

"Do you want me to go lower?"

A nod and the same naughty look appears–licking and sucking on your nipples as your cock is still surrounded in the warm embrace of her tight pussy.

"Lower?"

This time she doesn't even wait for an answer, your cock finally leaving her warmth, but her mouth kissing all across your abs while her hands continue to play with your nipples.

Her big round eyes lock on to yours before she gives the final question. "Lower?"

You can feel Karina's breath on your skin as she moves closer. She's laying between your legs, her hands running up and down your thighs as she looks up at you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"I'm going to give you the best blowjob you've ever had," she says, her voice low and sultry.

You can feel the anticipation building up inside you as she moves closer. She takes you in her hand and starts to stroke you. You can feel her lips pressing against your skin and her tongue tracing circles around your shaft.

You let out a moan as her mouth takes you in. She's gentle and slow, her lips and tongue working together to bring you pleasure.

"Do you like that?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You can only nod in response, your eyes closed in pleasure as her mouth moves up and down your shaft–though that wasn't the only thing in use. She has perfect control over her body and knows how to use part of her to drive a man wild. Her tits intentionally press against your thighs, her hands gently massaging your balls, her tongue swirling around with every opportunity, and her cheeks working overtime with tight suction.

She starts to move faster, her entire body working in perfect harmony. You can feel your orgasm building up inside you as she takes you deeper and deeper into her mouth.

"I'm gonna make you cum," she whispers, her voice full of desire.

You can only nod in response as she takes you even deeper. You're actually proud of yourself for how long you've held on. From the time of the reception to now, you've been in a perpetual state of horniness just seeing Karina living her life.

Karina is true to her words, the amount of pleasure she provides is unbearable. For a split second, the idea of pulling out crosses your mind, but you succumb to the fact that she won't allow you to finish anywhere besides her mouth. You let go of all inhibitions and shoot out an unbelievable amount of thick hot jizz directly into her mouth–for a moment you gasp and have to fight back the urge to pass out.

Karina pulls away, a satisfied smirk on her face. She looks up at you with a twinkle in her eye and licks her lips.

When you finally come back to reality, Karina is looking at you lovingly with those big round eyes.

"That was amazing," she whispers, her voice husky with satisfaction. "But we should head back in time for dinner."

"Already? I was hoping we could go for round two."

"Don't be silly babe. I'm part of the wedding party! Besides, we have the rest of our lives to do that. Isn't that why you married me?"

#karina smut #aespa smut

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senseichaos · 3 months

Note

Howdy howdy! I ADORED "You Can't Run. Hell. You Can't Even Hide" The balance between absolute fear, dizzy hypnotic confusion, and wide eyed admiration that the reader character holds for Vox is immaculate! Also them calling him Mister Vox is just Chef's kiss (it is WAY too hard to find xReader fics or even just fics in general where the honorific is Mister (C/N) and I love every one I find). The clothing change moment was probably my favorite, I'll always be a sucker for the representation of being broken and rebuilt in someone's image combined with the gift of pretty clothes. I keep going back to reread the whole story.

I know it's a oneshot, but since your requests are open, I figured I'd shoot my shot and ask if you would make a part two where Mister Vox just wrecks us, preferably sexually. We did leave off on him finding us trying to run away, do we not deserve to be punished for such an offense after all he's done for us? I also would love to see if/how much Vox has to push us to slowly become happy to be his, if that's something he wants (I could imagine having a rowdy unwilling runaway as his possession would get frustrating after awhile and be terrible for his image). There's honestly so much potential for what could happen next, and even though I could stew in my imagination, I would very much love to be at the mercy of your interpretation of the funky TV man a little longer.

That said, take your time, I know you've gotten a huge influx of Hazbin requests, hell I wouldn't be surprised if someone else already requested something similar to what I requested. I also understand if you can't/don't want to fulfill this request for any reason, that's what makes it a request. No matter what, you're an amazing writer and I hope you have a wonderful day!

💙✨

AAAAAAH!! I love you sm! When I saw this request I knew I had to do it at some point! I'm giving you the name 💙 anon from now on so if you request again I know it's you!

_______

Forever and always

(part 2 to: You can't run. Hell, you can't hide either)

Summary: After that day you attempted to escape from Vox, you had become somewhat accustomed to this new life you are forced to be living. Or you were until Vox gives you your first day off, causing you to find something out that would change how you live forever.

Genre: Smut, Angst, Horror (?)

Warnings: Non-Con, Yandere behavior, Possessive behavior, Sadism, Masochism, Electric shocks, Mind control, Drugging, Love potion, Vox is an asshole, Hurtful language, forced, gilded cage, soul contracts, unprotected sex (DONT), Vox owns reader, dacryphilia, let me know if I missed any!!

(not proof read)

--------

That day you attempted to escape from your gilded cage you wished to escape again, though vox had managed to continue his control. Even when he tugged you back by your electric leash you felt that horrid sinking feeling. This was it. For the rest of eternity as you know it Vox has you. He owns you, your soul, your body, your life; or well, lack thereof. You couldn't run from him no matter what you did, he practically controls the pride ring, keeping you tethered there like a puppy on a leash is simple to him. He has eyes everywhere. You cannot hide anywhere.

Recently Mister Vox has become a lot more... Touchy. Those fleeting touches of his fingers against your back, poking against your chin, pressing into your neck, swiping against your bottom, touching against your bosom. There is an odd burning feeling to it, you don't want to enjoy Mister Vox touching you in such ways, you don't want to enjoy it when he sucks his teeth at you or licks his tongue against his gums. But you do. You can't quench that desire. Especially when he'd moved you into his room from your apartment building. He hadn't made you share a bed with him, thank Lucifer, but he had made you sleep near enough to him that you can tell when he's.. pleasuring himself. Almost as if he wants you to hear him.

You and Mister Vox have never been better, besides from such hurdles. You stay obedient no matter how badly you wish to escape his arms. To cut all of his tight bounds on your body and run away. You'd figure out how, one day, you would.

"Good morning my dear! Did you have a gratifying sleep?" This is how most mornings go, Mister Vox will wake you with a poke if your side and a coffee in hand, already fully dressed and done up. You've always considered yourself a light sleeper, so you never know how he manages to make you a coffee every morning without so much as stirring you awake. You smile, nodding softly as you pry your eyes from his two dimensional face.

"Thank you Mister Vox, uhm.. did you have a good sleep as well?" You ask, taking a sip of the perfectly made coffee. Vox smiles, nodding as he takes a seat on the side of your bed.

"Of course, my dear. So, I know you have been working very hard recently... So I've decided to give you the day off!" Mister Vox declares, outstretching his hands as he gives you a manic smile. A day off? Why? This has to be a test. he's just going to leave you.. alone? For a whole day? This has to be fake, a joke, a flook.

"Oh my dear don't look so surprised! You've been a very good girl recently so I thought you deserved a day off," Mister Vox pauses, looking up at the roof for a second before peering back at you. "Now don't think this means we don't have rules, you are to stay in here for the day. If you want to go shopping I have to accompany you, alright? But I do have an appointment in an hour so it won't be for long,"

"Remember, I have eyes everywhere.."

You laugh awkwardly, shrinking into your own figure.

"I know Mister Vox.. I wouldn't forget," You can't stop that sorrow from entering your voice, but quickly you put on that mask of a smile once again. Mister Vox clasps his hands together, that red dripping from his maw again. "Great! Now I'll see you soon, be a good girl for me, hm?" He says, ruffling your hair atop your head with a condescending gaze.

"Yes Mister Vox," you reply simply, watching as he disappears in Into a blue line of electricity, shooting into the camera.

Fuck. Now what?

You can't remember the last time you were given this type of freedom, even if it wasn't a lot of freedom. Often you were tethered to Vox's side. Everyone in the building knows that you belong to Vox. Everyone outside of the building probably knows this, too.

There's this odd feeling in your stomach, this odd feeling as if you were floating. It happened every time you drank your morning coffee, but you'd always assumed it was just that feeling of awakening from slumber. But today, oh today it is stronger than ever before. It's as if you can feel every nerve in your body be rewired, every single hair on your body stand on end. Every sensation is doubled.

What the fuck was in this coffee? What is this euphoria? What is this yearning.. this yearning for Vox? You suddenly wish he was here, with you, holding you, calling you his good girl.. m

Shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you stand from your bed, fixing the large blue shirt you wear (that vox often asks you to wear when you sleep) as you walk to the kitchen.

The kitchen in Mister Vox's room is a large area just off to the side of his desk space, lined with many kitchen appliances and red cabinets. You are determined to figure out what he's putting in your coffee, what's making you feel so emotional. Needy. Awful. You scan the room, finding the coffee machine in the corner of the room with a couple bags next to it. Coffee, sugar, creamer... Nothing suspicious yet, it seems. Crouching down, you look open the cabinets beneath the coffee machine. Looking through the half full area.

Then you saw it, a small vial hidden behind a spare bag of creamer labeled 'Valentino and Velvette: Love potion'.

Terror shoots through you, causing you to drop the vial to the floor. It shatters everywhere, leaving the pink liquid to seep into the tiles below. He's drugging you. All this time, you feeling this want for him, burning at his touch, listening to him as he jerks himself off late at night. You wanting him to do things to you. It's all part of his plan to make you his, completely. To make you want to be his.

Burning tears fall down your cheeks, humoring you as you stand on shaky legs from the tile. What do you do? Now more than ever you want an out, a loophole, a way to take your soul back from his greedy claws. Anxiety, terror, hurt, worry, pain.

You want to prevent yourself from doing anything drastic, you really do. But all you can feel is this pain, this pain as you run on your feet to the balcony door. Trying your hardest to pry open the doors as they rattle loudly, shaking them, pulling them, pushing them. This evil man can't keep you here for any longer. You'd do anything to leave, ruin yourself for him, do something awful, make yourself less attractive to him.

Nausea. Headache. Your knees buckle as an electric blue overtakes your vision. What is this? You can't breathe, Vox. Vox. Help. Your head clouds, words fill your brain and you feel yourself being wrapped up by sharp claws. You can't scream. Help me. Please.

"You really think it's that easy?" Mister Vox.

"I can't believe I trusted you alone, even for a minute. After all I've done for you, as well. After I gave you a life some would dream for. Stupid girl." He sounds mad, horridly mad. Regretful. Throbbing takes over your body as sound waves film your ears. You can feel him lift you into his arms, placing you down onto a soft surface harshly.

"How am I supposed to make you understand this? You're mine,"

Your vision slowly comes back, until all you can see is him as he stares at you from above. His eyes are dark, domineering, needing. He's ready to take. What is he doing? All you can feel is his claw as it travels up your middle, between the valley of your breasts, stopping at the middle of your neck.

"Now, my dear? Are you going to let me teach you a lesson? For being such a brat?" You gasp, feeling his hand as it circles around your neck, effectively taking some air from your lungs. You shake your head, attempting to move your heavy legs from him with wet teary eyes.

"Nonono! Get off, please, get off!" You cry, writhing in his grasp. He sighs, rolling his eyes as he clicks his fingers. Suddenly a pulse of electricity goes through you, causing a shock to blur your eyes and pull a scream from you.

"Every time you try anything I'm shocking you, Dove. Don't try to escape from me, it's not going to work," he grins, laughing at your frightened teary eyes. "I can do whatever I want to you, my dear! I fucking own you!!" He growls, using his hand that isn't around your neck to push your thighs to your chest, revealing your bare pussy from beneath your oversized shirt.

"No please.. I'll do anything..?"

"Oh I'm sorry dear, but this is what I want more than anything right now.. maybe you should have thought of this before making such a racket and alerting everyone in the building, hm?" He says, dragging his clawed finger through your building wetness. He finally takes his hand from your neck, instead using it to keep your thighs in place as he pinches your clit between his sharp claws.

"Ah! Mister Vox.. hurts..!" You wail, wiping your tears from your eyes as he continues to abuse your sensitive bud between his fingers. He chuckles looking up at you as you gasp in pain.

"Hah! Wail all you want, dear, no one can save you." Vox guffaws, finally taking his claws from your clit. Only to plunge them into your aching hole without warning. You moan out, feeling the sharpness of them inside of you as he curls his fingers into your g-spot.

Mister Vox revels in your wails of pain and pleasure, fucking you with his clawed fingers harsh and fast. His claws are surely are scratching you from the Inside, he can tell by the way your hands tremble and clasp over your lips.

You can't help but feel good. This masochism of yours that forces it's way into you. Every scratch of his fingers inside of you just makes you want to cum. You can't give him that satisfaction, you can't let him know that you are enjoying every second of his claws thrusting inside of you. This is awful. You hate it. You hate that you love it.

"Is my little dove enjoying this? Awe.. to scared to admit you fucking love this?" Vox laughs sadistically, giving you an extremely harsh thrust of his fingers into your g-spot. You squeal, vision going white for a moment as his fingers go at this manic speed. You feel your orgasm build, wishing to break through the walls and release. But you can't let it, you won't let him have that. You'll never let him have that feeling knowing he's won.

"If you don't cum I'll fucking ruin you, dove."

You gasp and choke on saliva, clawing on the bedsheets below as he forces you to orgasm. There's no getting out. He knows that you are trying not to cum. And he won't let it happen.

"Yes.. Mister Vox.." you say softly, hole clenching around his fingers as your orgasm crashes over you in waves. Vox makes sure to drag it out, giving you slow rhythmic thrusts of his fingers to watch your body contract and writhe with pleasure.

"Good dove, listening to commands for me," He says softly, stroking the side of your cheek as he kneels between your legs. You want to pull away, but once again that burning and yearning feeling fills you. That stupid potion had an effect, and you can tell. From the way you feel a dizzy want when he looks at you to the wetness that continues to build between your thighs.

"Now, I'm going to fuck you so hard.." He laughs so himself, smiling crazily as he presses his hand to his face. "I'm gonna fuck you SO FUCKING hard, you won't even remember who I am anymore! How does that sound, my little slut?" Your lower lip wobbles as more tears threaten to fall from your eyes.

"Awful.." you whisper.

Another strong electric shock goes through you, causing you to scream out Mister Vox's name in pain as your body is left shaking and aching.

From the corner of your eye, you see Vox unzipping his fly.

"Wrong answer! Haha! Wrong fucking answer stupid slut," He growls, pressing the tip of his cock to your hole without a care. There something wrong with him, he's acting more crazy than ever before. He's getting off on your fear, getting off on your pain, getting off on knowing you can't do anything but be his.

With a loud slap, Vox sinks his entire length into you. You scream, clutching onto the bedsheets for dear life as he looms over you. He doesn't even give you a moment to let you rest, immediately setting a ruthless pace with his hips into yours. Every thrust causes your vision to go spotty with the pure force he drives his hips with, groaning with every thrust as he stares completely into your face as it scrunches in a pleasurable pain.

"S'too much! M-Mister vox It hurts!" You cry, reaching out to press your hands against his shoulders, clawing into his coat. You don't even care anymore, you want at least a small bit of comfort from these strong unforgiving thrusts. Vox chuckles at this, leaning down closer so he can capture your lips in a (forced) yet passionate kiss.

His long electric blue tongue immediately finds its way into your gob, passionately fornicating it against your own as his thrusts send you into a sort of floaty state. Vox maps the entirety of your mouth, tasting every crevice of you from your lips to the back of your throat. He thrusts almost ravenously like a dog, tip of his cock sometimes painfully pressing against your cervix.

Pulling away, Mister Vox looks Into your eyes, revelling in the way you claw at his back. You whimper and moan loudly, eyes fluttering closed as a tear falls down your cheek. He kisses it away, looking up at your closed eyes with a grin.

"Open your eyes, dove. Look at me while I fuck you." You cry out, opening your eyes for him so you can see him look at you with pleasure.

"Y-yes Mister- Ah! Vox.."

He chuckles, thrusting into you extremely hard. You can see the bulge of his cock in your stomach, poking against your skin in such a way you almost want to touch it.

"I'd fucking breed you if I could, fill your filthy cunt with all my little babies so then you can't even dream of leaving.. but I can imagine," Vox rambles, taking your cheek into his hand so he can look at you longingly- and almost affectionately. If it weren't for the position you're in you'd almost be enjoying this moment.

"Mister Vox!" You cry, back arching as your orgasm begins to prod at your stomach.

"Hm?" He asks, grunting as he thrusts into you.

"Can I cum? Please! Please please please.." You beg, legs quivering wildly. Vox chuckles, giving you an adoring look as you bite your lower lip.

"Awe look at you! Asking Mister Vox to cum and everything.." Vox begins, biting his lip as you sputter on a moan. "Of course you can, dove. Let go so I can fuck my cum into you.."

You scream his name when you cum, digging your nails so hard into his back you're sure his coat has tears in it.

You'd given up. Well and truly. You wouldn't admit it. But you've finally accepted it. You belong to Mister Vox. Forever and always.

Forever and Always.

Vox gives you one last thrust, emptying his cum into you with a moan from his own lips. Eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, Vox drags out his orgasm by serving you a few more small quick thrusts, making sure every last drop is inside of you.

But when he has, he doesn't pull out.

"Mister Vox.. pull out.." you whimper, wiggling your hips against him.

"Haha! As if. I said i'd fuck my cum into you, didn't I? I haven't done that yet.. okay?" He asks, stroking a hand through your hair.

"Yes Mister Vox."

#proship #senseichaos #antishippers dni #senseichaosdrabbles #proship fanfiction #hazbin hotel #lovely anon #senseichaosanons #💙 anon #vox #yandere vox #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #vox x reader #vox x reader smut #vox x reader angst #angst

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skz-streamer · 6 months

Text

Felix As Reminders

Simptober Reminders M-list

Pairing: Felix (skz) x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff ;))))

Warnings: mention of food

Notes: made this one the most relatable, I think?

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Have you eaten?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The room was bathed in the soft glow of your desk lamp as you sat hunched over your textbooks and notes. With an important exam looming on the horizon, you had been deep into your study session, determined to absorb as much knowledge as possible. Hours seemed to pass by in a blur as you lost yourself in the world of equations and concepts.

However, a familiar chime from your phone interrupted your concentration. You glanced at your phone, its screen displaying a text message from Felix. Curious, you unlocked your phone and read his message, "have you eaten."

A pang of guilt swept over you as you realized that it was already 2:00 PM, and you hadn't eaten since dinner the previous day. You quickly typed out a response, your fingers dancing over the keyboard, "no.."

Before you could even set your phone down, you heard the door to your room gently creak open, and there stood Felix, holding a plate of delicious-looking food. He wore a concerned expression as he said, "Please eat something, love."

You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness and nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Lix," you replied, taking a spoonful of the food and savoring its flavors. The warmth of his care and the comforting taste of the meal were exactly what you needed in that moment.

Felix's concern didn't stop there. He continued, "You wanna take a break? We can sit on the couch and watch something?"

You felt a wave of relief wash over you. A break and some quality time with Felix sounded like a perfect idea. "Sure, that would be nice, Lixie," you responded, feeling immensely grateful for his presence and his ability to brighten your day, even in the midst of your hectic study schedule.

With your exam temporarily forgotten, you followed Felix to the living room, ready to relax and recharge.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Lying in bed, you felt like the world's most pitiful sick person. Despite your insistence that you would be fine, the truth was that you were far from it. The fever had left you sweating and exhausted, and all you craved was the sweet release of sleep, which eluded you like a distant dream.

Desperation had led you to scroll mindlessly through your phone, seeking any form of distraction from the relentless discomfort. As you stared at the screen, your phone buzzed, drawing your attention to a new message. It was from Felix, your ever-attentive boyfriend.

"Have you eaten?" he inquired, his concern evident even through the text.

You sighed softly and texted back, "No, not really. Just don't feel like it." Your fingers hovered over the screen, and you couldn't help but admire how sweet and caring Felix was.

A reply soon came, and it warmed your heart even more. "I ordered food for you. I'll get one of the boys to drop it off. Love you."

Your heart swelled with gratitude and affection. All you could manage to text back was a simple, "Thanks, Lixie. I love you." The rest of your message was a blur as you drifted in and out of sleep.

Time seemed to pass by in a daze, the fevered dreams blending into reality. It was hard to keep track of time, but suddenly, you heard your bedroom door creak open. You expected to see Hyunjin, as Felix would often send him over for various chores and errands. However, this time, it wasn't Hyunjin who entered.

Your bleary eyes struggled to focus as you saw Felix standing there, a gentle smile on his face. He was holding a bag of food and a bottle of water.

"You didn't think I'd let the boys handle this, did you?" he teased, his voice laced with warmth and affection.

You couldn't help but smile through your illness, and with great effort, you reached out to him. Felix crossed the room in quick strides, his concern for you evident in every step. He set the food down and took your hand gently, his touch soothing.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes filled with tenderness.

You managed to whisper back, "I love you more."

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The hustle and bustle of the workplace surrounded you as you diligently went about your tasks. It was a busy day, and you found yourself engrossed in your work, with only the occasional break to grab a quick snack. However, amidst the emails and assignments, your phone buzzed, momentarily drawing your attention away from the computer screen.

The name on the message made your heart skip a beat; it was Felix. His message read, "Have you eaten?" It was a simple question, but it carried with it a warmth and concern that made you feel incredibly cared for.

You quickly typed a response, your fingers tapping away on the phone's screen. "I mean kinda, just had a few snacks here and there," you replied honestly.

Felix's next message, however, took you by surprise. He texted you a specific time and place, leaving you momentarily puzzled. "What?" you texted back, your curiosity piqued.

He replied swiftly, "Meet me there."

A smile crept onto your face as you read his message. Felix's caring and thoughtful nature never ceased to amaze you. It was these small, unexpected gestures that made your heart swell with gratitude.

As you prepared to leave work to meet Felix, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and anticipation.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tags: @eee5533 @mixtape-racha @cherry-edibles @ren0325 @felixvsp @hwangrimi @sanriiolino @painstakingly-juno @herarcadewasteland @dabiscrustyfeet @kai-jilee @sungiesoonie @slvtty4channiee @revelaffee @buckys-pillow, @staygirl86 @chlodavids @jinnie-ret @bbygrlhannie @rebecca-johnson-28 @turtledove824 @interstellarairwaves @yearofthetiger25 @minhos4thkitty @fiqire @backintomykpopphaseagain @liknws @tinyelfperson @aaasia111 @yangbbokari @sleepyleeji @skzhoes @hafsah-ali

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starz222 · 1 year

Text

alhaitham — mahal kita

synopsis your group project takes a weird turn

contains fluff. translations are in parenthesis. not proofread. modern au

notes this lowkey short but this has been on my mind for so long

you were assigned a group project by your teacher on the cultures of various nations. it was just a matter of going to see them since there were 3 people in each group and you were placed with the other two who shared a dormitory.

you walked over to alhaitham and kaveh's shared dorm after getting dressed comfortably for your project. as soon as you open the door, you’re welcomed with an apartment that combines two distinct styles and aesthetics. it was a perfect representation of alhaitham and kaveh, they both stood out but clashed with one another.

“oh, you’re here.” al haitham walks into the living room wearing his pajamas. his gray hair is messy and his shirt is unaligned. “i told you they’d get here early!” kaveh shouts from their kitchen, “y/n, do you want some coffee? and i’d like to apologize on my roommate’s behalf.” he scoffs and rolls his eyes at al haitham. “sure, thank you, kaveh!” you take the cup of coffee from his hand at sit at the table.

“look at him, cutting our time shorter!” kaveh huffs, “what do you mean? i’m right here aren’t i?” his roommate speaks from behind. “can we just get done with this already?” al haitham takes the seat next to you. you begin to discuss the project with the two of them. you talk about how you can format the project and what else you should add, and speaking of cultures, you bring up an important factor in culture.

“i don’t speak that many languages,” you say, “but you speak lots of different languages, right?” you turn to al haitham, and in response he nods. you ask, "can you say something in one of the languages you know?”

“alright”, he accepts your request. “mahal kita, y/n. gustong-gusto kita, kaya ako nalang yung dapat piliin mo.” (i love you, y/n. i really really like you, that’s why i’m the one you should choose.)

kaveh spits out the coffee he’s been drinking and looks at al haitham like he’s gone mad. what did you just say? he speaks with his eyes and his shocked look. “why? what’d he say?” you turn to kaveh, the two of them weren’t even hiding how they were practically having a conversation about what he said in front of your face. “he said that—” kaveh stops once he locks eyes with his roommate. those eyes looked like they were hungry for blood! at least, that’s how kaveh interprets it.

“nevermind– he just swore at me in tagalog..” kaveh sulks and looks away, wiping the coffee from the corners of his lips. “yeah, you’re an ass sometimes.” al haitham crosses his arms. oh, this bitch is really going to insult me? two people can play that game. he leans in and whispers in your ear, “he said that he really likes you.” and leans back to take a look at your expression. you argue, “that’s not true. he would never—”

“it’s true.” al haitham cuts you off. “i do like you. kahit di mo ko mahal, mamahalin pa rin kita hanggang kailanman." ( even if you don't love me, i'll still love you forever.)

truth be told, the only reason why al haitham looked like he hadn’t gotten any sleep was because he didn’t. he couldn’t go to sleep as his mind filled him with a mix of emotions hitting him everywhere all at once. worry, anxiety, anticipation, happiness, you name it. he hoped that kaveh would be able to lighten the mood and make him less awkward around you than he already is. he barely got any sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

when he saw you just standing there in his home, he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. he refocuses his gaze on you, and fuck, you’re not his imagination. lucky enough his roommate helped him escape unknowingly. but then again, brought him to confess his feelings to you.

“....mahal din kita?” (i love you too) your entire face heats up, you look at kaveh. “did i say it right?” he’s just staring at the two of you with his mouth agape, “will he be okay?” you ask al haitham. “just give him a few seconds.”

he slams his hands on the table, “what the fuck just happened. i’ve been sitting here the entire time?!”

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dionysus-complex · 5 months

Note

you mentioned you specialize in roman violence. can you rec any good works on the subject, especially during the late antique period? how much (or little) time/writing did latin authors spend on the question of the necessity/morality/glory of violence, especially when bound up with empire and borders? did rhetoric around domestic violence evolve?

It's obviously a massive topic, so it's difficult to know where to begin! For looking at violence in Late Antiquity, I highly recommend the work of Maijastina Kahlos as a starting point - most of her scholarship deals with tensions between religious communities in the Roman Empire in Late Antiquity, and I've found it extremely clear and illuminating. For Late Antique slavery, I'd look at Jennifer Trimble's work, especially "The Zoninus Collar and the Archaeology of Roman Slavery" (2016, JSTOR link here). On the intersections of violence and the legal system, I'd recommend Sarah Bond's 2014 article "Altering Infamy: Status, Violence, and Civic Exclusion in Late Antiquity" (JSTOR link here) as well as Julia Hillner's 2015 book Prison, Punishment and Penance in Late Antiquity. Amy Richlin is essential reading on Roman violence in general, and I'd highly highly recommend her piece "Cicero's Head" in Constructions of the Classical Body (ed. James Porter, 1999) if you have access to an academic library and can get a hold of it; it's explicitly framed as a Jewish, post-Holocaust reflection on the violence of the Roman proscriptions and civil wars and has been profoundly influential on my own thinking.

In general, Imperial-era Latin authors spend a lot of time thinking about the necessity/morality/glory of violence, to the point that I'd say violence is the key theme in Imperial Latin literature. It's often bound up with Stoic philosophy (in the 1st-2nd c. CE; Seneca's De Ira is a key text - you might take a look at sections 3.18-19 on torture under Caligula), and given the bias of our sources which skew toward the elite/senatorial-class perspective, it can be harder to track down texts that explicitly make the link between violence and Roman imperium. One famous example is the speech of Calgacus in Tacitus' Agricola 29-32 (link to a translation here), which purports to be the speech of a Celtic general in Britain rousing his troops to battle against the Romans in the 80s CE. Given that speeches in Roman historiography are generally regarded as being compositions by the historian, it's important to ask why exactly Tacitus of all people gives a prominent place to a scathing critique of Roman imperium - there are lots of ideas on this and few definitive answers, but it's a startling passage to say the least.

Imperial Latin epic poetry (e.g. Lucan's Bellum Civile; Statius' Thebaid) is well known for being graphically violent in the extreme (as in brutal torture, dismemberment, and one infamous instance of brain-eating in Thebaid 8), and there's a lot of work on how and why violence becomes highly aestheticized for Imperial Latin poets. There's also the genre of Roman declamation (difficult to explain, but essentially something like mock trial cases that were used for rhetorical education and showmanship), which frequently explores extremely violent scenarios involving torture, kin-killing, etc. Most scholars these days tend to read declamation as a space where (elite, male) Romans worked out and interrogated various cultural anxieties and taboos. Because of this, you get some of the strongest condemnations of violence found anywhere in Latin literature in the declamatory corpus, but it's difficult to extrapolate from that because again it's something like mock trial and rhetorical showmanship that does not necessarily map on to real-life Roman attitudes.

I've barely scratched the surface and there's a lot more I could say but I'll cut myself off here - I might be able to offer more specific recs if you're interested in e.g. violence as spectacle, aesthetics and artistic representations of violence, etc.

#thanks for the ask!

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linberlyy · 3 months

Text

Let's be honest: Criston's offense’s more than justified and well-reasoned. Another question is how much this very offense is, but everyone will judge this through their own internal compass. Let me explain Cole’s motivation and worldview, maybe I'll open someone's eyes.

Let’s simulate the situation: we have a son from a humble family (so low that his position was low even for an engagement), who, with sweat, blood, his skills and efforts, carved out a place for himself in the Kingsguard, taking into account that, thanks to the goodwill of a representative of the royal family, - who has a golden spoon in her mouth, we remember, was able to get a healthy assessment of her capabilities and skills without watered calculations.

- “I know what it’s like to fight for something that others don’t value.”

He owes his new position precisely to the favor of the princess, and we have no reason to refute Criston’s conscience, because BEFORE any traumatic and drastic changes/events, he manifests himself as a conscientious and devoted knight, with a clear worldview.

They spend a lot of time together, and already at Aegon’s name day we see that the level of trust between Rhaenyra and Criston is high, moreover, it is rapidly gaining momentum when she opens some part of her soul, shares things that can be called “personal”, laments his situation and outlines the problems he faces. Most notable:

— “My father is trying to sell me to Jason Lannister. I was named heir to the throne only to improve the position of Lord Casterly Rock.

— Should I kill him?”

This is literally a joke about killing the LORD that Criston makes in the presence of the princess, and it is remarkable that they both laugh without taking it seriously.

— “You can choose your own path, you are lucky. Many would gladly change places with you.

— “I am the princess of Dragonstone, but I am toothless.”

— “Once, not so long ago, you were able to write my name in the White Book. A position in the Kingsguard is the highest honor for the Cole family. I owe you everything. And I wouldn’t call it toothless.”

He provides her with sincere support, without greedy or hypocritical intent, and she accepts it with open arms.

The development of their relationship, on the initiative of the princess, follows immediately when, after some time, abandoned by Daemon (I condemn) in a brothel, she persuades Criston to have sex. Rhaenyra lures him into the room, plays with the helmet, kisses him, not allowing him to leave, and then tries to free the knight from his armor. Yes, Criston could more than experience romantic feelings towards his princess, but above all, it was a kind of admiration, sincere gratitude for what bestowed her favor on the rootless commoner. His representation of Rhaenyra may seem banal and naive, namely as “a poor princess, enslaved by her position,” we will note this in the future. But based on his pure motives, he faces a choice in which his feelings equally suffer, his vows and, of course, the wishes of his object of desire, in relation to whom Criston has never crossed the line before, are called into question. Many may underestimate the pressure that arises between the statuses and titles of total opposites, and only in the example of “maid - prince” do some realize the problematic nature of such a union, but not “princess - knight”. Please note: despite gender, it is still a class difference that breeds power with abuse. And, unfortunately, Cole cannot know and be sure that Rhaenyra’s need to get sex here and now has nothing to do with her love for him. He hesitantly follows the princess's lead, putting aside his white cloak.

Next we see and hear that Criston is ashamed of himself for violating his honor, neglecting his duty, although he listened to his heart, to his duty to Rhaenyra.

— “You occasionally confided in me... Over the years of acquaintance. And it seems to me that I know you. A little.

— “More than a little.”

Another imaginary confirmation in Christon’s eyes of reciprocity.

— “You have said many times how you despise your position. That you will be married off at the whim of your father, without thinking about the inclination of your heart. And this day has come."

He imbues her with the problem mentioned in the past; driven not only by his dilemma, but also by Rhaenyra's “confinement,” a literal shackle that equally binds and constrains them both.

— “I ask you to come with me. Away from all this, from the humiliations and burdens of your heritage. Let's leave all this and look at the world together. We will be free, nameless. We are free to go wherever we want, to love whoever we want. Will you marry me? Not for the crown. For love.

— “I’m the Crown, Ser Criston. Or I will be her. I can complain about my debt, but would I choose infamy in exchange for a barrel of oranges, or a ship to Asshai? It is my duty to marry a noble of a great house. But my marriage is not the end all be all. Ser Criston, Laenor and I have come to an understanding. I gave him the right to do what he wants. He granted me the same”.

— “Do you want to make me a whore?”

— “I want what started to continue.” You are my protector. My white knight”.

— “I made a vow, a vow of chastity. I have nothing but my white cloak, and I have stained it! I thought the wedding would cleanse him.”

Literally, Criston pours out not only his soul to Rhaenyra, but also to us, as viewers. He dictates the reality of his situation, assures that he can provide and protect the princess as much as possible. But, of course, for the blood of the dragon, for the heiress, for the father’s daughter, who was previously brought up in the conditions of “do you want it? Get it!” such a prospect is worthless. Naive of Cole? Yes, but not without reason.

After everything, he feels extremely vulnerable, as well as after a sincere confession to the Queen - which responds even more precariously and nervously to any conscience and confidence, despite her gratitude. Already at the wedding of Rhaenyra and Laenor, Cole, like a taut string, stands at the service, but restlessly and nervously looks at the princess.

— “I’m on duty, what’s your business?”

— “You don’t know me, Ser Criston, but this alliance is very important to both of us.”

— “If you have something to say, Ser Joffrey, speak.”

— “Ser Laenor is as dear to me as I know the princess is to you. We must swear to keep them and their secrets. We’re not in any danger yet... They are safe.”

Sounds like a threat to a pins and needles knight with a stained cloak and a sense of duty, don’t you think? Criston can only guess how Joffrey knows about his affair with the princess, and only one of the options may look convincing - Rhaenyra telling Laenor about this, who could notify his lover along the chain. Again, every possible inclination towards princess on his part is undermined when their secret is at stake. Yes, Criston succumbs to anger and panic, resentment and hopelessness, for which he commits a much more terrible act than calling a woman names. But even so, Cole feels guilt, boundless disappointment, and at the lynching he also feels remorse. He plans to voluntarily commit suicide and admits his every mistake. This scene is literally the rebirth of a knight in the rays of Alicent’s understanding and favor.

And as a result: people complain countless times and blame Criston for swearing towards Rhaenyra, for which he apologizes. Cool. Let's think critically and delve into the story and characters, and not spit hypocrisy.

#hotd #anti team black #houseofthedragon #rhaenyra targaryen #pro team green #team green #the greens #criston cole #alicent hightower

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helaelaemond · 8 months

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Lost Absolution Pt3 - Osferth x reader

Pairing: Osferth x reader

Word count: 3.4k

Fic summary: Osferth thinks of you during morning prayer, and sneaks into your room to find your scent while you're gone. He chases his pleasure, guilty though it makes him, and you watch him find his pleasure. Can be read as standalone piece. Masturbation, mutual masturbation, solo dry humping, mentions of oral and fingering.

Content warning(s): Religious guilt, historically inaccurate representation of Saxon Christianity and Roman Catholic traditions, angst

Rating: Explicit

Part 1 / Part 2

Tag list: @sylasthegrim / @myfandomprompts / @arcielee / @babyblue711 / @troublesomesnitch

Masterlist

You walk with Osferth to morning prayer. You prefer to pray later, but he likes to start his day with it in the little chapel on the estate. There is ice on the ground, and you insist on holding his arm to keep him steady.

"You're still healing, lean on me," you tell him with a quiet laugh. In the courtyards, your fellow servants bustle about their business and pay you no mind. In your concentration, keeping focus on the pathway, you miss how Osferth looks down at you with longing.

"I am well, lady," he replies softly.

You smile up at him. He's so tall. "And you shall stay that way, so long as you do not fall. Careful-"

He puts the weight on his foot wrong on a little patch of ice, and it throws off his balance. With a strangled noise of surprise, he clutches onto your arm and shoulder. It's impossible to stop him from falling, but you greatly reduce the speed with which it happens - your feet are firmly planted on solid ground, and you manage to ease him, more than drop him, to the ground.

"Osferth!" you laugh. You lean over him as you grasp his arm and waist, doing your best to keep him safe. "Are you alright?"

His cheeks flush from the cold, from the embarrassment. "I'm sorry."

"There is nothing to forgive," you assure him warmly. "Are you in pain?"

He shakes his head and bites his lip. Casting his eyes down, he tries to get up, but winces.

"Let me help."

For a heartbeat, it looks like he is going to protest. But when you squeeze the hand you hold, and you smile so kindly, he nods. With your help, he gets back on his feet. The light is gone from his eyes, though, and he won't look at you. When you try to take his hand again, he clasps them both behind his back.

"Your wound, is it-?" Without thinking, your hand goes to his stomach to feel his dressings. The touch makes him flinch. Osferth's sudden change in demeanour makes you swallow. "Forgive me."

His expression is pained. "There is nothing to forgive, lady."

During the weeks that he has grown healthier and stronger, you have repeatedly asked him to use your name and not a title to which you have no claim. Usually, you are both laughing when the topic is raised, but you don't feel like laughing now. Quietly, you ask, "won't you use my name?"

He bites his pretty lip and looks down. His brows furrow like he's concentrating, and unreadable expressions flicker across his face. How difficult he can be to read sometimes, you lament. He won't let you in, not really. There is something holding him back.

"Not today, lady."

"Alright." Tentatively, you take his arm again. The expression he wears would make any passer-by think you were marching him to the gates of Hell, so uncomfortable is he now. He is all stiff and icy, but perhaps it is the pain. You'll have to examine him later.

At the door of the chapel, you let go of his arm and turn to him. "I'll return for you when the bell rings."

"You are very kind," he murmurs, expression fixed on the ground. "I do not thank you enough for all that you do."

You give him a smile that he does not see. "It is why I am here, Osferth. I am here to help."

"But still. I do not thank you enough."

He gives you a pained smile without meeting your gaze before ducking into the chapel. You watch him go inside, and as the door closes, you turn back to your work with an ache in your chest.

There is no one else in the chapel this morning. That is not unusual - many different worshippers come in at different times, and most of the estate is made up of servants who are busy at this hour. So Osferth has the little hall to himself. He approaches the altar, and makes the sign of the cross.

"In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen."

There is a small wooden statue of the Mother to the left of the altar, and Osferth fixes his eyes upon it as he clasps his hands in prayer, and sinks to his knees in front of the pew.

"Ave Maria, gratia plena, Dominus tecum."

The words roll off his tongue without thinking. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb.

His forehead drops onto his clasped hands and he groans softly. The feeling of your hand on his waist will not go away. It had been a soft pressure to hold him safe, yet it had felt like... like... like you were holding him for something else. When you had bent over him, your hair had tickled his face and he caught the smell of rosemary in it. Yes, that's what you use to oil it sometimes, rosemary. That scent haunts his nights.

How good it would feel to bless your womb with his child, to bury himself in you and find his completion with his nose buried in your fresh-smelling hair-

"Sancta Maria, Mater Dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus-"

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now.

Osferth swallows and fixes his eyes on the statue again. "Nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae. Amen."

You wore a green dress today, green like moss in spring. Osferth loves that colour on you. It makes him think of warmer days. The collar is high and there are laces across your neck against the winter chill, and he stares at the Mother until she resembles you. At her throat, he sees those laces, and he can feel himself untying them to touch the skin underneath. How warm you must be compared to December.

Just the thought of the skin at your throat makes the blood rush between his thighs. The breath he takes in is shaky. "Ave Maria, gratia plena. Dominus..."

Three more Hail Marys are spoken softly by the time he is hard, and his mind is foggy. Rosemary. Spring. Moss. Hail Mary, full of grace. Rosemary, spring, moss. The Lord is with you. The slope of your neck, the shadows of your collarbones. Blessed are you among women.

Blessed are you among women.

When he had been sick, you had worked over his bare torso and touched his flaming skin with a soothing hand. Most memories of that time have faded with the healing of his body, but fragments remain. Your fingers ghosting over his heart, carefully applying pressure. Your strong grip at his hip to turn him slightly and fit bandages around his back and stomach.

Pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of our death.

From the precipice of death you had pulled him, yet closer to it he now returns. For this is purgatory, surely, to desire you like this. To need you.

"Forgive me, Lord," he sighs quietly. "Help me, please. I'm... w-weak. Please."

Even as tears begin to spill down his cheeks, the vision of you returns to his mind. In his mind, you take him into your arms and stroke his hair. You hold him close and comfort him. He grips his hands tighter together and closes his eyes as if this will help. Breaths quicken, but whether that is from anguish or arousal, he doesn't know.

The vision of you slips your dress off and you cradle him in your lap. He weeps, and you run your fingers through his hair as you soothe him. Osferth is allowed to weep, and he is comforted with a hand behind his head, and a nipple in his mouth. He suckles on you in his mind and whimpers.

His knees begin to hurt. The floor of the chapel is cold stone, and he gasps as reality comes crashing around him. "Forgive me, Lord, please. I do not mean to have these thoughts, I-"

This place is not for him right now. He cannot be in the house of God whilst his mind is plagued with such unholy thoughts of you. Ice be damned. He hurries out of the sanctuary, and back to the hall he has been afforded for his healing. It's still early and there are few people around, but still, he wraps his cloak tightly around him. No one needs to see him in such a state.

As expected, you are not here when he returns. He approaches the little antechamber you are using during your time as his helper, and he peeks in. It's only to make sure you're not here, of course, but...

It's wrong, what he does, he knows this. But he doesn't care enough to stop. Your bed is unmade, and the blankets are crumpled towards the bottom of it. At the top, the single soft pillow is folded in half, and the shift you wear to sleep is thrown across it.

Don't do it. Don't come any closer.

Osferth swallows. There are butterflies in his stomach as the visions of being in your lap come rushing back. Rosemary. Spring. Moss.

He glances around, but no one will come. The hall is private, for his use only, and yours. Finan often strides in like he owns it, but it is too early in the morning for him. You are not due back at the chapel until the bell is rung and that is another half hour away at least. You won't be back.

Osferth is in your room, and he is alone.

His feet slowly carry him across the room to your bed. The butterflies make him float, and before he can stop himself, he has reached out and taken your night shift into his hands. Bringing it up to his nose, he inhales deeply. Eyes closing, he lets the smell of you wash over him. God, it's better than he thought.

It takes the strength from him. He sits down on the edge of your bed. Against the linen, his mouth opens, and he runs his tongue along it as if to catch a taste. All it does is dry out his mouth. But it's something. It's something tangible about you. If he doesn't think about it, then he doesn't need to register what's happening.

He can just live in the moment, and forget about it later. As if it never happened.

Hands turn into fists in the fabric as he presses it to his face. There are different smells at different places of the garment. Along the neckline is that rosemary. It must have dripped down your scalp and neck and onto the linen. His eyes roll back into his head as he thinks of the journey it got to take. He envies the oil.

It has anointed you in places he will never touch.

Control is ebbing away from the once pious man. Further down your night shift he goes, below where it would cover your waist. With new vigour, he runs it under his nose until he catches a sweetly sour scent that makes his mouth water. Inhaling deeply, he feels his mouth pool with saliva. That smell, that fucking smell. He wants to taste it on you so desperately-

"Oh, Lord."

Osferth squeezes his hand around the fabric where your smell clings faintly, and pulling it away again, he licks his fingers for the ghost of your taste. Nothing. Perhaps he will find your undergarments and suck them in his mouth until your taste is as familiar as bread and ale.

He fumbles with his leather harness that has a cross embossed onto it, and he casts it aside. With it goes the cross around his neck. There is nothing holy left here.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now,"

It is to your pillow that he now turns. On it, the smell of rosemary is much stronger, and he moans into it. In the privacy of his solitude, Osferth moans your name. Tears of absolute need leak from his pretty eyes.

"My sweet lady, lady, lady."

Using the strength you have nurtured back into him, Osferth climbs atop your bed and presses the pillow into his face. He inhales as desperately as a drowning man until you are in his veins and he will never get you out. Rosemary fills his mind, moss and spring, laces at your throat. The vision of himself in your lap morphs into something else now. He lies on his stomach with his face buried into your pillow, and he cannot stop his hips from grinding down against the mattress.

In his mind, you are below him. You're on your stomach, too, and he fills you from behind. You mewl softly as his cock fills you perfectly, like he was made for you.

Blessed are you amongst women.

With you, Osferth is most blessed. In reality, his clothes are rough and grinding against the bed hurts, but he is not in reality now. He moans into your pillow that he imagines is your hair. You moan back so sweetly it almost feels true.

Into your pillow he whimpers your name. The movement of his desperate hips still only so he can push his breeches down. His hard cock springs free and it's flushed and leaking. He can't bring himself to look at it. Instead, he covers it with your pillow. Onto his stomach he returns, this time with it between him and the bed. How easy it is to think of this dry softness as you.

There is an ache in his stomach and back as he fucks your pillow desperately. He grinds against it as he would grind against you. His chest tightens as he thinks of you. How fucking wet you would be for him if he treated you right. He bites his lip as he thinks about spreading your legs and pressing his tongue there, sliding it up and down and letting it slip inside you, if that's what you liked.

He's never even kissed a woman. But he's seen the act, although it never much interested him. He never wanted it until he met you. Now, it's all he can think about. What do you look like between your legs? Pink like a summer rose, perhaps? Or dark like fine wine, rich and generous? He doesn't care. He wants every version of you.

His thrusts get more desperate as his thoughts carry him away. Once he's made you come on his tongue and long fingers, he'll push you onto your stomach and fill you from behind like this, like he's fucking your pillow. He'll ask you to turn your head towards him so he can kiss you and see your expression, and whisper in your ear how beautiful you are. Surely you'd say something sweet in return.

You're so good to him. You take care of him.

Let Osferth take care of you. He wants to be so good to you. So good.

He cries out your name again. All reason has left him, all sensibility.

So when the door creaks open behind him, he barely has the sense to glance over his shoulder and look at who it is. When he sees it's you, he's sure it's just his imagination. Moss green. Laces at your throat.

You see him on his stomach atop your bed, your pillow under his hips. You watch as he grinds against it, eyes half closed, forehead sweaty. It sends bolts of heat between your legs. You're lost for words, and lost to need.

"Osferth?"

When you call his name, he whimpers again. His hips keep moving. "My lady!"

You're frozen in the doorway. Even if you had wanted to, you can't make yourself move forward, lest it break the spell over you both.

When you pull up your skirts and expose yourself to him, he is sure he has died and gone to heaven. When you bury your fingers into your folds, he whines your name. It's the first time you've heard him use it.

"Yes, Osferth."

He is utterly lost. He's never been aroused like this, never been driven so mad with need, so plagued with visions. Straining his head to watch you makes his neck begin to ache, but it doesn't matter because you are rubbing circles between your thighs and grinding down against your hand and your face is split with frustration and delight and he knows how you feel and-

"Oh! Oh, Lord, my God-!" Osferth moans. Tears leak down his cheeks.

"Yes, yes! Fuck, Osferth, I-"

"Oh, oh! Yes, oh-!"

He comes with a guttural noise that sends you spiralling, too. He jerks against your pillow again and again as he rides his high with green in his eyes and rosemary in his nose. Spring, he has hopes for spring. Pleasure washes over you both in powerful waves. For Osferth, this means curling up on the bed and panting, eyes closed at the intensity of it.

For you, it means leaning against the doorway and letting your knees give out. Your skirts fall back into place as you slide down to sit on the floor, breathless.

Osferth is turned away from you. A few minutes pass, and your heart begins to return to a steady pace along with your breathing. From the sounds of it, he is coming back down, too. "Osferth?"

If he hears you, he ignores you. You watch as he sits up - still facing away from you - and sorts out his clothes. You didn't get to see his nakedness, and you still haven't. God, you want to. You've dreamed about sliding his cock into you hand and mouth, and how good it would be to see what you so long for. But no, he hides himself, turns himself away.

"Osferth, please look at me."

He turns to you as he walks around the bed to pick up his cross and harness, but he doesn't meet your eye, let alone speak. You're in the doorway, though, and he'll have to acknowledge you at some point. Slowly, he puts the leather garment back on, and there is a certain solemnity in the way he puts his cross necklace around his neck. With it in place, he finally looks in your direction. There is a spot over your shoulder that he fixes his gaze upon.

"Forgive me, lady."

"You said my name for the first time."

He licks his lips and looks down as he clasps his dirty hands behind his back. Perhaps in another life, he'd let you lick them clean. "I did. For that, I am sorry."

"For that?" you echo.

"And for... for everything else."

You push yourself to your feet and walk over to him. He side-steps to prevent you from grasping him with your outstretched hands. It makes you want to cry. "Please don't apologise for anything. Just... let me hold you. Hold me. Please."

"I can't."

"Please."

Osferth's eyes are red. "I can't. Please, forgive me."

"Do you love me?"

The directness of your question catches him, and finally, with round, shining eyes, he meets your gaze. He looks wounded. "I... I don't know if that is of consequence."

Before you can even think about what you're doing, you touch his cheek with the hand you found completion with. He turns his head slightly and catches your damp fingers on his lips. His eyes close as a moan almost too quiet to hear escapes him. You move closer to him. "It's of consequence to me."

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "You deserve a man better than me."

"I want no man but you."

He hangs his head. "I will not damn you."

There is no chance to argue before he has left your room. You sit on the bed he has left rumpled. You press your night shift to your nose, and smell rosemary there. No matter how hard you try, you cannot catch his scent. He's not here. It's like he never was.

#osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth x y/n #osferth x oc #tlk fanfic #mine #osferth #ewan mitchell #pining osferth

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mugeesworld · 1 year

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Sanji with a chubby partner head cannons!

Omg guys. I'm getting way more likes and followers then I thought I would! I'm so thankful😭♥︎. Y'all are so kind tysm! Writing is a big outlet for me so to see other people enjoying it makes me so happy!

I also have a wattpad if you're interested! It's called heeheemugee. And I have a few stories there. Tysm once again. On with the head cannons.

NSFW (you've been warned) female y/n (as always if you want a Male y/n version or gender fluid version let me know!) ♥︎♥︎♥︎

Sanji is my all time favorite character so I will most likely be adding to this whenever I have a idea😍 he's sooo baby girl

And ik sanji goes for "skinny" girls but I'm here to tell you. He would love, worship, praise, the ground you walk on hunny. Theirs not good plus size representation in one piece and that's what you're gonna be. You're gonna be the goddess that walked in and changed that! As you fuckin should??!

Imagine. You recently moved to a small island to get away from your troubles for a while. You got to relax everyday. Taking in the beautiful sights of nature while there and living peacefully in your small hut.

Like any other day you decide to go for a walk and pick a few apples from a apple tree that was near your house. You grab your basket and cute little hat and skip along the streets making your way to your favorite tree.

The straw hats recently made it to this island while exploring the grand line. As per usual sanji was making his rounds to buy more food for their long journey.

While walking around the island in search of different food stands he comes across a single apple tree. I'm sure the owner won't mind if I take a few! He thinks to himself, walking towards the tree.

He starts to pick a few apples putting them in his basket when he hears a sigh coming from the other side of the tree. He looks around to see a gorgeous lady trying to grab a apple that was just a little to high for her to reach.

He stares for a moment taking in the gorgeous sight in front of him before shaking his head and helping the lady. "Here! Let me!" he says grabbing the apple and reaching his hand out to give it to her. "Oh! Thank you!" you say happily excepting the apple from his hand.

You take a closer look at him since he doesn't look familiar. He feels his cheeks starting to get warm as you scan him. "You're not from here are you?" you finally ask. "No- No I'm not. Im here picking up food for my crew!" he says anxiously.

You give him a warm welcoming smile. "I see! I hope you enjoy your stay! This tree isn't owned by anyone so you're free to take as many as you would like! Need help?" you ask putting down your basket.

Sanji feels his heart race seeing your beautiful smile. As if your face could get any prettier. That smile proved him to be wrong. It most certainly can.

"Sure! I would appreciate that..." he says scratching his neck. (You're making bro nervous 😟) you nod and start picking apples and putting them in his basket. While doing so you both finally exchange names.

"So Sanji..." you say making his spine shiver hearing his name roll of your tongue. Something he wish he could hear 1,000 more times.

"Are you the chef?" you ask. "Yeah I am. Why?" he asks. "Well I'm guessing you're a pirate then right? Taking these apples like this on sea. They will go bad very quickly. I can show you how to make them into apple sauce and then how to can them. They will last way longer. Plus it's delicious!" you explain.

Sanji thinks for a moment. She's right. These apples won't last long. And I get to see her longer.... "Ok! Sure!" he says excited to learn.

You smile and grab your basket. "Great! I'll show you the way to my house and we can start!" you say grabbing his hand to show him the way.

Sanji nearly jumps out of his skin feeling you grab him like that. You're hand is so soft and small against his. (I got big hands😞) He never wanted you to let go. He wants to stay like this forever.

As y'all walk down the street y'all talking more about canning sorta going over how it will happen. You see sanjis forehead sweating in result of the sun beating down on y'all. You suddenly stop catching sanji off guard as he turns around to see why you place your hat on his head.

"You need it more then I do!" you say before continuing down the path. Sanjis cheeks go red at your sudden act. How sweet he thinks. Y'all arrive at your house and you start to show him how it works.

Once y'all are finished he tastes the apple sauce. To his surprise it was amazing. "Holy crap! This is amazing y/n!" he nearly yells. You laugh at his reaction. "Oh stop it's just a simple apple sauce nothing crazy. But now that you know how to make it. It should help your crews food last longer!" you respond.

You put the apple sauce into jars so they are easier to store. As you turn around to hand him the case of jars you notice he has apple sauce on his upper lip. You put the jars down while laughing and quickly wet a rag.

Sanji turns his head. Confused at what you're doing. "What is it?" he asks. You continue laughing while making your way back towards him with the wet rag. "You have some apple sauce on your face. Here." you say before grabbing his face with one hand and wiping it with the other.

Sanji starts to have a overload while you do this. Blushing like crazy until his nose starts bleeding. "Oh no. Are you ok???" you ask scared as the blood starts pooling out of his nose he take the rag from your hand and nods embarrassed. "Y-yeah! This happens sometimes haha!" he yells trying to play it off.

You quickly grab a first aid kit. "At least let me patch your nose." you say taking out some supplies. You try to walk over to him but he quickly jumps back. "No no. Don't come any closer y/n." he says panicking.

Y/n gives him a confused look. "But why I just want to help? Did I do something?" you ask.

"No! Well yes.... But no! It's just.... You're making me flustered y/n and it makes my nose bleed.... Sorry" he admits. You continue to look at him confused. Flustered? But why....

"How do I make you flustered? I haven't done anything..." you ask. Sanji sighs at your cluelessness.

"You... You make me nervous....Cause you're so... Gorgeous." he finally admits. Your eyes widden. Gorgeous? No one's ever called you that before. Could you really make someone that nervous to make their nose bleed just by your beauty??

"Well... Can you close your eyes? Please so I can help you?" you ask still desperately wanting to help him. Sanji thinks for a moment before closing his eyes and removing the rag.

You slowly make you way over to him. Putting two pieces of tissue in his nose and wrapping under it so it stays. You tell him your done and he opens his eyes. Before you can say anything he leans in and kisses you.

Placing his soft lips on yours kissing you passionately like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life. You we're surprised at first but start to kiss back.

Y'all pull away to get air. "Y/n you're the most gorgeous girl I've ever seen. I'm never felt this way about someone in my whole life. I don't want to say goodbye to this. I don't want to see you go...." he admits holding you by your waist.

"Come with me. Join my crew! I'll keep you safe. We can sail the sea together and most importantly be together y/n. I don't want to leave you!" he says. You widden your eyes. Does he really like you that much.

You've only just met this man but he seems so genuine. Like someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You've only talked to him for a couple's hours but the time you've had together and what you've learned about him means so much to you. You don't want to see him leave either.

"Yes" you whisper. "W-what?" sanji asks not thinking he heard you right."I'll go with you." you say looking up at him smiling. Sanji picks you up and sways around the room as y'all laugh together.

He suddenly puts you down getting serious. "Theirs one more thing I have to know y/n before you come with me..." he says looking at the ground. "Will you be my girlfriend?" he asks smiling at you.

You throw your arms around him and place a kiss on his cheek. "Of course I will!" you nearly yell.

And CUT. AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY EVER AFTER!

Sanji just loves you. Home boy is obsessed with you. Everything about you. He can get enough. Your a addiction he don't want rehab for. It's almost unhealthy how much he loves you.

I can't put it in to words how much he would worship you. He can't believe you're real. He's scared your a dream and he's gonna wake yo with you not there. He treats every day with you like it's his last and saviours you every second.

He is so clingy. He can keep his hands off you. He would try to be respectful about it. But he just wants to tear you apart man. He wants to grope and grab every single inch, cm, mm of your body. Not one spot going uncherished.

Everything you do he finds attractive. Walking? Hot. Pushing hair out of your face. Hot. Sitting still. Hot. Literally doing nothing at all. Hot.

When he first seen you naked he has to get a look from every angle. To just take it the beauty. He had you stand in the middlebof the room. And he just walked around you. Taking it all in. Even getting on the ground or standing on a chair to see it from there. Nothing will go unnoticed.

Making sure to rub his hands up and down your body praising a worshipping every single inch before railing you.

I usually put in what I think the characters favorite part of you would be but lord. I can't pick. Cause he would love all of you. He would shoot himself in the head before answering that.

It's not possible to choose ONE thing that is better then the rest of you cause all of you is perfect to him. He sees no flaw.

He loves holding you. Laying on your stomach in between your legs wrapping his arms under your back. While you play with his hair. Makes him so weak bro. Always a horny mess. Always ready.

He probably love quickies. Just to help him get through the day. Cause with you walking around he won't be able to get anything done with out at least pounding into you once. Very very high stamina.

Position? Don't matter. He will do it from any angle you like. The feeling of you wrapped around him is enough. He gets pussy drunk instantly.

BIG AND I MEAN BIGGGG moaner. He don't care he letting everything out. He can't help it. He whimpers and whines for you. Breathing heavy. Trying to speak but it comes out as mumbles cause he's so overwhelmed by the way you feel.

Oh you're more submissive? He loves taking the lead and teasing/rubbing every inch of your body till you are a pleading mess. Beginning to be fucked. And he does. As a dom he would put everything into making both of y'all feel good. Definitely a service dom.

Any tiny thing you like while having sex he would do just to make it better for you. Whether it's being choked, spanked, kissed. Whatever you want. He's on it. He tries so hard to make you feel so good so he can see your lewd over stimulated face. He loves seeing how his cock makes you all "drunk"

Knowing he fucks you best and no one else can do that. Definitely the type to ask. "Who do you belong to/ who fucks the best?" during sex. Really gets him off knowing your his.

Oh but you're a dom? No problem. He love having a women dominating him. Being told what to do by such a beautiful lady turns him on in ways he can't explain. He wants to fulfill your every need and make you happy.

Anything you say goes. You want on top. Get on. You want to tease him with a vibrator? He's ready on bed. You want him to eat you out he's already laying on his back ready for you to take a seat on your thrown like you deserve.

Even stuff more kinky! Oh you want to peg him? He's down. He probably bi anyways. You can't tell me he's not zesty. I mean look at him! He probably love having you peg him.

The feeling of you driving into him with your strap so aggressively makes him go crazy. Pushing his head into the pillows to avoid screaming. Only thing is he feels bad that you're not getting anything out of it when you really are. So he makes sure to repay you after.

He would call you by whatever name you give him. Mommy? Done. Mistress? Hell yeah. He is down for whatever. He probably even has mommy issues. Look at him. I mean..... Like...

With all of that being said about him wanting to please you. It drives him insane seeing you between his legs sucking him off. He would throw his head back and just whine. He love language might be acts of service but Lord he loves seeing you this.

I'll add more later probably but I'm busy but wanted to get this out! ♥︎

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