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scaramouche-bully · 3 years

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i hope this isn't rude to ask, but why do you write dark content topics like noncon and abuse? i'm a s/a and abuse survivor who had no problem with these things before my trauma but afterwards i became angry at people who made such content. now i'm trying to remember that people have different reasons for writing these things and i've been asking writers what their thoughts are. i've been following you for a while and i know you're kind and not ill intentioned in your writing, so i was wondering what your views are. this isn't meant to be hateful at all and i am just curious and want to understand. if this makes you uncomfortable feel free to delete it!

Hello anon,

Don't worry, this isn't rude to ask at all. I respect that you want to understand and this is from curiosity rather than being hateful (which I don't take your ask as such) and that you remember that there's a person behind the work. To be honest, I don't really know how to answer your question so I might go on a tangent. I hope you don't take my words as fact or my entire thought process but I just want to say:

I don't support rape or abuse. I don't want anyone to think that just because I write it, I fantasize about it or condone it in any way. I don't. I'm not trying to offend or make anyone angry, that's why I tag everything twice and add a read more. It's your choice whether to believe me or not, I just ask that you don't harass me under those assumptions.

To put it bluntly, it's just writing to me. When you see people write or do something really obscure or relating to dark content, you're completely right to assume it's because they're interested in those topics. But that's not necessarily the same for everything and everyone. I can't speak on the behalf of every single writer out there but personally, it's just something to explore from an omniscient point of view. I'm not going to bullshit you or sugarcoat my words, I'm not a survivor and the harassment and abuse that I have suffered aren't traumatic to me. That's why I can think that way and it's not because I have any ill-intent or I'm trying to undermine or pretend that those issues aren't serious. They are. Personally, I would get very upset as well because, in my mind, someone is taking something very personal and traumatic and doing what? Writing about it with fictional characters that they want to fuck? It feels insulting in a way. Naturally, I have no idea what you feel but that's how I would react.

But it's similar to any murder/mafia au or even yandere. Does that mean I like killing people or obsessive behaviour? No, absolutely not. When I write a character or direct a movie and someone is shooting someone, does that mean I'm into violence or condone guns? No, that was not the intention at all. We can say it's "not the same thing" and you're totally valid to think that way. But for me, it is. I'm not pretending as if murder or abuse doesn't exist or it's something to want. When it's in shows or books, no one really bats an eye to that. Maybe it's the stigma with fanfic authors that we're all 13-year old quotev writers/readers (I used to be one so I'm really just making fun of myself here) that we rightfully assume it's because we like those topics or we fantasize about being in those situations. Because why else would I want to read or write about x reader fics with those topics?

You don't need me to tell you that it's reasonable to be angry at people that make dark content. I myself, don't really like dark content that much either. I don't daydream about being used and I don't like feeling upset. Which I guess doesn't make sense especially for the type of fics I write. But when I actually write, there's a major disconnect between fiction and reality and I understand that it's not like that for everyone else. Writers pov compared to a reader's pov I feel is very different. I can be a selfish person and write this way because I've never been through it. But it's never from a place of disrespect and I apologize if it feels that way but I can't control what you feel. All I ask is that you read the tags and determine whether or not you want to associate with it. To me, it's just words on a paper and action queues I'm giving to imaginary characters. I'm not fantasizing about anything, I don't even like sex that much. I just think it's something to write that I feel like doing. For example, I don't care for Venti at all. He's cute I guess but I don't want to fuck him. But I still write for him and how I write makes it seem as if I actually look at Venti that way. I don't, it's just writing. I guess it's the same question as to why do you write in general. Because it's fun? I wouldn't really call it "fun" and more of a hobby that I like to do. This doesn't really make sense since people that do anything as a hobby naturally assume they have a passion or like it. In a sense, it's kind of like this: You enjoy drawing but if someone asked you to draw a monster, yes you could do it because you like to draw but it's not like you're putting your heart or deep emotional thoughts into it. It's just a drawing of a monster. You've never had an experience with a monster (in a fictional sense) so there's nothing for you to be traumatized with. There might be some aspects, spikes or tentacles, that make you uncomfortable, sure. And people can find deeper meanings in your work and make assumptions when there isn't, to you it's just an image.

I know this is an incredibly shitty way to explain why I write dark content because it sounds like I don't care or I think abuse/noncon subjects don't matter because it's "just words on a paper". I get it, in movies when the protagonist is abused or has been a survivor of rape and that doesn't go anywhere. That it's just a way for the movie to pity the main character or to explain why they act a certain way, it feels cheap and manufactured and I hate it. But I always believe that as long as you aren't doing anything illegal or endangering yourself + others, I don't care what you do. When I see topics that I personally find disgusting or don't like, I just move on. They aren't hurting me in any way and they're allowed to write what they want to write. I know that isn't the same for everyone and that kind of thinking is very romanticized but I like to think that I'm smart enough to know when that thinking breaks or isn't acceptable.

Sorry that I keep drawing comparisons, it's just how I like to explain things and it's easier for me to explain my thoughts that way. My writing is like a snow globe. Sure it has some real connotations with the snow that comes from nature, but it's not real snow. It's an overly pretty, dream-like world, that can never be cold and doesn't show how awful living with a lot of snow does to you. People that have never seen snow, they'll love it because it doesn't remind them of actual snow since they've never experienced it. But I have, I live in NA. Except I understand that it's just a snow globe. Sure it might make someone uncomfortable for any reason, but it doesn't for me and at the end of the day, it's just an object to me. You can take that as a very selfish way of thinking but I'm not going to throw my snowglobe in the trash just because someone doesn't like it. I know for a fact that anything I write isn't meant to trigger or make anyone upset, I write it because I want to explore those topics. I don't think it's hot, I don't think it's okay, and I don't condone it in real life. But it's just writing to me, it's just fiction, it's a way for me to explore those topics in a way that I am comfortable. If you don't like it and it triggers you, that is completely okay and understandable, but that wasn't my intention and I'm not going to stop.

I hope that answers your question and gives you a bit of insight into my views. I know my way of thinking isn't for everyone and you're allowed to disagree with it. Dark content is a very thin line that a lot of people aren't comfortable with and I acknowledge that. I don't even like dark content that much but I'm not going to stop writing about it. I'll tag everything, crop away topics that trigger people, and to be honest, I don't find myself writing about dark content ever unless an anon asks for it. But if you don't like me or disagree with what I've said, the block button is right there.

- 🐑

#tw dark content #sheep talks #anon ask

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littlefreya · 4 years

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Professor Cavill, Sir

Summary: Professor Cavill keeps giving you failing grades on your assignments even though you are 100% certain you are a brilliant student. You decide to march down to his office and confront him.

Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x Reader

Word count: 3K

Warnings: Abuse of power, MaleDom / FemSub, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, orgasm denial, vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex, creampie. (Basically all the good stuff)

A/N: While composing this post, I noticed I passed my 1500 followers. So first and foremost, THANK YOU, thank you for following, believing in me and sending me DMs. You are just as important to me. I’ll probably write a more emotional thank you post tonight. But just had to say something now 🥺

Thanks the anon who made this prompt request! And thanks @agniavateira for being my beta and muse.

I also recommend reading @ladyreapermc astonishing professor Cavil stories!!!

Title: Professor Cavil, Sir

You know you are a good student, you’re brilliant, even smarter than the airheads who harbour the classroom. Yet, Professor Cavill seems to have some sort of beef with you. He marches around the classroom, giving you cold stares and your grades are constantly dropping with each assignment you hand over.

Fine, he is beyond handsome and all the girls are soaked for him but damn, you hate this man with passion and you’ve had it. You wait one afternoon when the halls of the academy are nearly empty so you can march into his office and tell him exactly what you think.

You play the scenario in your mind for hours. You know exactly what you are going to say and how but the moment you barge into his office, your words melt into an incoherent cluster of yelling that don’t make much sense by the look on Professor Cavill’s face.

“I am a smart woman!!! You... you... you have no right!!!”

The professor crooks his right eyebrow, peering at you from an assignment he is browsing through. He seems unimpressed by your dramatic entrance, putting the paper on his desk and then finally gesturing for you to sit at his desk.

Heaving from the anxiety that’s about to burst your heart, you shut the door and take two strides to sit in front of him, feeling the blush burn from your cheeks down to your chest. It takes less than a minute for you to conclude that you are a meek, little fly that walked straight into the web of a big, hungry spider.

Henry laces his hands together, elbows resting on the wooden desk and his eyes seeking yours with a grin, which in your rage you only interpret as arrogance.

“Yes, you’re smart. You are the most brilliant student in my class.” he compliments, which does nothing but make the rush of blood escalate and flow ecstatically to your nether regions.

“But you don’t see much.”

You give a sheepish stare, feeling your ears burn in embarrassment as he gets up from his chair and shifts to half-sit on the corner of the desk, blocking your only way out. Somehow, the only thing that goes through your head is “fuck me”.

These words nearly roll on your tongue as you open your mouth, staring at professor Cavill’s god-like face.

“I...”

“Am I wrong?” he asks you, his fingers reaching beneath your chin, the soft pads of his tips bumping it up so your gaze will entwine.

“Tell me, do you wish to leave?”

“No,” you hear your own voice tremble as you answer.

A deep crease appears at his cheek as his lips stretch into a slanted smirk. His fingers leave your chin to remove his glasses and lay them on the desk. His eyes shine at you, glistening with lust. “What do you want then?”

Your lips part, heart beating through your throat. The tendon at your neck twitches, sure that he can see it too.

“I want you to fuck me on your desk.”

Henry’s icy glare travels upon the outlines of your face, studying each freckle carefully. No words come out from the man who speaks so greatly, his cold silence challenging, tiny sparks of panic waking at the back of your head.

What have I done?! Have I misunderstood his intentions? Was this just all happening in my mind?

You swallow the dry lump in your throat, about to open your mouth to a gush of apologies when Henry’s large palm lifts to ghost above your jaw. His thumb meets the plumpness of your lips and tugs at your bottom lip to dampen the pad of his finger.

"Such a dirty mouth you’ve got there,” he comments. His velvety British accent sends tremors to the walls of your beating core. The slightest of touch makes your panties embarrassingly moist, viscid against the petals of your womanhood. Shifting in the chair uncomfortably, the black knife-pleated skirt ascends and exposes the silkiness of your legs. Much of a treat to his famished icicles.

Saturated dreams of Professor Cavill kept you sweaty in the middle of the night, as any of the women attending his course. It wasn’t just his thick dark hair that curled at the edge and the criminally-sculpted cheekbones, nor was it that broad structure hidden underneath a buttoned-down blue shirt. It was his confidence, his stark charisma. Passion shimmered in his eyes when he spoke about wars throughout history and razed enemy cities.

Damn if you didn’t want him to destroy yours.

“Spread your legs, let me see you.” he demands, his voice deepening along with the shade of his gaze. No thoughts of protest come to mind. You obey, surrendering every will to his demand, thighs pressed open to each side of the wooden office chair.

Henry’s index finger rims your mouth from east to west, toying the red pillows of your lips and sliding the tip inside to flirt with your whispering tongue.

“Now, roll your panties down your knees.”

Cold shivers run through the sinew of your muscles like an electric current, making you spasm on the chair, unhidden from Henry’s satisfaction. He scoffs at your behavior, a small grin painting his chiseled jaw. You’re behaving like a virgin, all doe eyes and trembling knees. You’re certain he finds you pathetic to the point of humor.

“Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you like a bad one.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers onto the elastic band of your panties and slowly pull them down to your knees. The cold air of the room hits the exposed groove of your body and you hiss at the sensation, throbbing with excitement and fright.

The bulge in Henry’s trousers appears to be threateningly large, the outlines of his cock winking toward your desirable image. You nearly bite his fingertip as your mind sinks into momentary fantasies of how specifically large his cock is beneath those cream-colored trousers.

It would be a lie to say you haven’t glanced at that region of his groin during his classes once or twice.

Henry reaches his free hand to lift your skirt and peek at your mound, his tongue flicking over the freckle of his bottom lips as he finds you sleek with arousal. The wooden surface is damp with your sweat and the smooth elixir of your cunt.

It makes him smile in a way that nearly makes you feel ashamed.

“Suck,” he orders and his fingers enter your mouth before you even choose to question. Shoving deep to challenge your devotion to him. Your tongue laps around skin and bone, cheeks hollowing out instinctively as you coat him with your saliva and hum at the sensation of having him in your mouth.

A low growl forms in the pit of his chest, loud enough to vibrate at your reddening ears. He is impressed by how submissive you are to his wanton, completely opposite to the way you’ve rudely barged into his office. When you woke up this morning you had every intention of showing him how little you think of him and his grades, and yet here you are, dripping on his chair like some shameless slut.

This is a dangerous ground; you’re treading on thin ice, but there is no will power strong enough to stop you.

From the moment you walked into this room, you were already his.

“Such a good girl.”

His fingers slide out of your mouth, glistening with your spit in the warm lighting of his cozy office. With shallow breathing and quivering lips, your fists grip the edge of the chair with fear while his fingers descend and disappear beneath your skirt.

A lingering gasp leaves your mouth as his fingers spread open your folds. Probing inside almost clinically, as a thing to be toyed with. His fingers push knuckle deep, exploring the warmth of your soaking pit and grinding in slightly to elicit pathetic little moans from your throat.

“You know how much I’ve longed for this?”

His thick baritone sends shivers down your neck as he leans closer to half-whisper against your ear. Small whimpers escape from your lips in response.

Henry slips even deeper, thumb ghosting over your yearning clit, mimicking phantom circles in the air in order to torture you. Begging, you attempt to push forward and grind at his fingers for more friction but you are answered with the scolding tick of his tongue.

“You’ll come when I say so.”

“Professor Hen…”

A pained hiss shudders through you, tiny creases forming at the corners of your eyes as you shut them tightly due to the pain that stings your scalp. Henry’s fist closes over your hair, tugging your head back to punish your disobedience.

Deep in the cells which survey logic in your mind you know you shouldn’t like this.However, your body tells a different tale: skin tingling, slit clenching around his fingers just from the rush of fear.

“I can’t wait to feel your sweet little pussy around my cock,” he murmurs in a husky voice, his fingers pumping slightly, curling within your succulent cavern to learn each of your vocal reactions. You are spasming around him as inch by inch he seeks inside you, obsessed with desire to find that one spot that will reduce you to nothing but a boneless being.

“Aww…” he coos at your teetering yips, his lips perched into a mocking pout as he sees the begging in your big, aching eyes. Holding the natural need of your body hurts, like molten fire, all pent-up inside. You can feel it coursing through each organ of your body, intensified by the hard shoves of his fingers. You’re nearly lifted from your seat by the force of his thrusts.

“You want to come, my sweet darling?”

“Please, Sir!” for a moment there you thought you were asking, but what comes out of your mouth is nothing but a humiliating whine. Aching inside, your fists numb over, your shaking legs get drenched with sweat as his hairy arm constantly strokes between your knees. Impassioned, he pumps into you back and forth, thrilled by the way you melt around his fingers as his tips tickle your most sacred pleats.

“You can come, sweetheart.”

The room goes black for a few seconds as pleasure takes the reins, railing you toward your orgasm with incredible force. A cluster of cries drains from your mouth. You’ve never had anyone deny your pleasure, not like this. The pain was harrowing yet the payoff makes you reach stars, your state of paradise was prolonged and for a moment, you float on air.

“Good girl.” Henry growls praises at you, his fingers sliding outside your convulsing cunt and slipping into his own mouth as he suckles on your honey. He lets out a hum, his tongue lapping over his fingertips while his eyes pierce into yours.

Still catching on your breath, you look at the professor, his face glowing as the sunset beams through the window, coloring his criminally beautiful face in gold and amber hues. There is a murmur dancing in your heart, still not believing that this man, who you spent lonely nights pining for, is about to put himself inside you.

Grasping your waist, Henry collects you with surprising ease from the chair, sitting your ass on his desk so harshly the mahogany surface slaps your naked ass. His hands press your legs apart as he moves to stand between them. You see the flames of lust burning in his eyes, as tough and authoritative as he is. Yet his lower lip still twitches with a wisp, desire weakening his roots.

You dare to touch him, tracing the shape of his jaw, dipping your finger in the strong dimple of his chin. Aggravated, he snaps your hand away, forcing it flat against the desk. He then grabs your nape, pulling you into a rough kiss that takes whatever control that was left to you. His tongue invades your mouth, a tinge of strong macchiato and cinnamon tickling your senses as your mouths play with one another.

You hear the metal clasp and the brush of leather as he unbuckles his belt and your eyes immediately fall to his groin, eager to finally see him.

Fuck.

Struck, you break away from his punishing lips, gaping at the vastness of his meaty cock. You clench your thighs around his legs, heart flinching just from the sight of it, intimidated and even frightened by the thought of him spreading your insides. A dry chuckle leaves his throat and his hand reaches to grasp himself, tugging his own pink cock and then slapping it against your cunt. He relishes the hisses and wet sounds that are produced from your pussy.

“Afraid you can’t take it?”

“You’re huge.”

You chew on your lips and moan as he slides the base of his cock between your folds smoothly, patronizingly, coating himself with your thick juices back and forth with an incubus smirk. “You know how amazing is your body, darling?” he asks and slides just the tip of his erection inside before pulling out and stroking himself against the length of your swollen lips once again. Feeble and pitiful you mewl with desperation, slouching your shoulders back, frustrated.

You want to beg but words won’t even meet your tongue.

“How much your cunt can stretch…” his words fall short as he groans with awe once his thick cock enters the narrow corridors of your slit. Inch by inch he invades, spreading you open in an agonizing pace.

Inarticulate sounds birth in your throat as his cock sheaths into your cervix. You are raw and taut, flesh throbbing furiously around his girth that fills you just right. He is thick and pulsating, enclosed by quivering velvet walls.

“Shhh…” he presses a finger to his lips and then to yours as broken moans run through your mouth.

Nodding, you purse your lips, swallowing a whimper that’s as a result of your sex throbbing together with eagerness. Henry kisses your forehead as a praise and pulls back slowly, leaving nothing but the head of his shaft, creating a sad empty void before plunging back in, achingly slow to the rhythm of your gasps.

You are fucked, in every sense of the word. The large man has a majestic hold over you; your organs don’t belong to you anymore, even your breath feels borrowed as Henry begins to pound you over his desk with guttural grunts. His hands latch beneath your knees, ramming into you like an ardent machine, yet not with a lack of style. Every pound edges you across the border of heaven, keeping quiet is nearly impossible and every cry that escapes you is punished by a hard thrust.

Your palms sweat on his desk as you flatten them behind you, your panties dangling from your ankles. Henry controls everything to the very last drop of your lust, fucking into you, slapping your wet pussy like an angry train with passionate speed.

Henry strokes all the right spots inside you, his thickness causing a trillion little spasms to sway from your apex.

Incoherent musings run through your mind; you want him to take everything, fuck you like a slut and empty his cock into your willing womb. He reaches the deepest part inside you and the most insidious thoughts take over your soul as you come undone. Your body jitters with the explosion of stars, your cunt tremoring tightly around him, demanding his rich offerings.

“I’m on the pill!”

You call breathlessly, still teetering on the strands of rapture as he twitches inside you in eager response. Henry stares at you surprised, his mouth agape as if in disbelief. He drops his gaze to where you are connected, staring at his cock sinking into your cage of delights. With his fists cuffed around your needs he slams into you ferociously, his balls thudding against your cunt with zeal, swelling and growling with bliss until he empties all of him inside you.

“Fuck!” Henry grunts, attempting to catch his breath. His sweaty forehead rests onto yours, his lips hovering, trembling at your mouth. You let your shaky hands cradle his square face, fingertips collecting droplets of sweat and smearing it down the lines of his cheeks. The powerful man who just dominated you is nothing but a gentle giant, swaying into your soothing touch.

There is a mess on his desk as he shifts away. His thick semen spills from your pummeled hole and you see the twisted pride in his eyes. You reach to slip your panties on, your chest beating angrily as you struggle to breathe.

“I hope you are not just doing this for your grades,” he warns as he zips his trousers back and leans against his bookcase, staring at you while you make a futile effort to fix your messy appearance. Your underwear is soaked with him and you dread the thought of walking home stained, smelling like sex.

“I am not a whore.” you answer, a tinge of anger at your throat. You wonder for a second if you are the only one and your heart sinks with fear, your head feeling slightly dizzy. “And you just admitted to fixing my grades so you could get me in this position, that’s the kettle cal..”

“I never said you are.” he stops you, running a hand over his hair and fixing an errant curl at the top of his head. His fierce stare searches for something in your soul.

“I’d like to do this again.”

You blink at him wordlessly, trying to figure out what sort of fantasy you just stumbled into. Obviously, there is not a bone in your body that wants you to refuse as you glance at the man of your dreams, offering you a suggestive grin.

Then it finally strikes you. You just entered a dirty bad romance.

___________________________________________________

DM me if you wish to be added/removed

#Henry Cavill #AU!Henry Cavill #Professor Cavill #Professor Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill Fanfiction #henry cavill x reader

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inescape · 3 years

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i am struggling to know what to do here. i think i definitely need a little time away just to… soak in everything and work on myself, because the last thing i would wanna do is make anyone uncomfortable here, whether it now with the negativity i’ve brought to the dash the past couple of days by platforming the other blog, or in the past with public criticism that i am not in a position to take a stance on. i do wanna take this opportunity to apologise for that. i had a few hours to think about things and i decided that i shouldn’t get to say what offends people and what doesn’t offend people. if you have seen a vague on my blog before and was hurt by it, then you have a right to be hurt by it, and it was unfair of me to think otherwise, because in spite of how i felt in that time, i shouldn’t have used my platform to slam others, even if i thought it was inconsequential or harmless. if you want a personal apology, i understand and my ims are open. for now, i’d like to have the chance to move on and progress. for months now i’ve made a conscientious effort to not promote negativity on my blog (total backslide, i know) and to give people the benefit of the doubt. i’m not so heavy on the block button, i talk to people about any issue that arises, and i think i think we as a community should continue to practice this because it truly is the most effective way of communicating. there’s a lot of uh… fearmongering, where we think we shouldn’t speak our mind because of how people receive us, and we should try to actively disband this way of thinking. please know that my blog is always a safe space for communication. i see these anons about me and it makes me so sad to think it’s something that could’ve been resolved privately. and listen, that’s my fault too. i shouldn‘t have vagued about anyone and i shouldn’t have blocked people so freely, i could’ve done what i endeavour to do now and said “hey sorry i’m not comfortable with this” and i totally recognise that behaviour is much more acceptable. i think i just figured i was curating a space that was comfortable for me and i think i’m definitely entitled to do that, but perhaps more cautiously, as i don’t fully recognise the knock on effects that i caused. and finally, i’m sorry that you feel more comfortable going through another blog to voice your complaints about me than speaking to me through my own anonymous feature or in ims. i want to be an approachable person that you feel like you CAN talk to, and i really hope by seeing This you can understand its not in my nature to treat people badly or unfairly, i’ve just made some pretty poor decisions in the past, whether fuelled by egotism or just plain laziness. finally, for that blog, i think it’s just gonna lose traction if we as a collective no longer pay attention to it. i know that’s easier said than done, but truly if it has no audience, it has no hate to produce. and i know some have tried to defend me, also have sent me screenshots of the blog, but i really don’t want anything to do with it anymore so if we could just… not tell me, i’d really appreciate that. i’m an emotional sponge and i just sap up any negativity i see, true or otherwise, and i really wanna move on and enjoy my time here. i hope you guys can give me a second chance but if not, that’s also fine. as i said, curate your safe space. i’ll catch all of you guys in a bit, take care 😊

#and tell ur fave blogs u love them today 🔪

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fallout-lou-begas · 3 years

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A lot of people have accused yjj of being racist, particarily in regards to one of their comics involving Joshua graham, and in general saying that they glorify colonization. I mainly understand the other things they’ve done, but the racism seems inexusable. A lot of people have also been saying that yjj and their followers have harassed people. I want to get both sides of the story on this, so basically I’m asking what the deal with all this is?

Hi, anon. I'll provide my thoughts since you asked politely.

This post is quite long and can be considered an extension of my previous post on the matter.

Besides the infamous and self-admittedly ill-informed chancla comic, for which they've apologized, essentially all of the claims that Yesjejunus is racist stem from their depiction of the Dead Horses and Sorrows relative to their depiction of Joshua Graham and their original character Joan in their fanfic No Light (and to a lesser extent Learnin’ the Blues), which is heavily grounded in the setting of Honest Hearts. I think it's unambiguous that the depiction of vaguely defined "tribals" in Honest Hearts, assembled through a mishmash of disparate signifiers and recycled stereotypes and named like Warrior Cats and completely helpless without Joshua Graham's guidance, is indeed thoroughly racist, even if it was intended to be more nuanced and came from a place of self-admitted ignorance on the part of the developers. What I struggle to understand is that the developers and writers of Honest Hearts—and of Fallout: New Vegas as a whole since the entire game is rife with such mishandled, insufficient depictions of "tribals" with no explicit inclusion at all of any specific Indigenous people or presence—are given miles and miles more sympathy and leeway for their poor handling of these characters in the source material than a fanfic writer is for using the tools and setting that they were given by that source material, including the "lore" and naming conventions of the Dead Horses and Sorrows, to tell a story that means a lot to them personally, inspired by their own deepest fears and experiences with abuse, and ignited by their charismatic yet deeply and blatantly monstrous interpretation of Joshua Graham. Given that it uses the setting of Honest Hearts as a backdrop, there aren't any living characters in Honest Hearts who aren't "tribals" besides Joshua Graham and Daniel, and post-canon, Daniel wouldn’t be there. When Yesjejunus is accused of sidelining the Native characters or relegating them to the background, it's because they're just not writing a fanfic about Follows-Chalk or Waking Cloud as main characters: they're writing a specifically intentioned story about the Courier and Joshua Graham, a story that for better or worse remains faithful to the source material’s depiction of Joshua Graham’s unilateral authority over the tribes in Zion, a baked-in element of Honest Hearts and a critical narrative component of No Light. To accuse Yesjejunus of being racist on this principle in and of itself would be like accusing me of being lesbophobic if I wrote a Dead Money-set fanfic with Father Elijah as the main character instead of Christine. If you want something that centers these other characters then you'd just have to read a different story, or write it yourself.

As a final note, I do think that Yesjejunus is a skilled writer. This thought exists simultaneously with the acknowledgement that like everyone else in fandom, they're writing as a hobby and do not have the oversight of an editor on the work that they produce personally and for free. It's not lost on them that there's things about their story that they could have handled differently or more sensitively, such as the oft-cited example of the death of the pregnant Dead Horse character in No Light, with more forethought or planning at the time—even if they were bound by the constraints of Honest Heart's own setting (such as the dearth of non-tribal characters who could have possibly been in the scene instead) while writing the story. Everyone is free to critique this aspect of the story as much as they are to critique any other aspect, or to be discomforted by the whole thing (given it's a very intentionally uncomfortable story throughout), but the suggestion of so many of these "callouts" that Yesjejunus must have been cackling maniacally about the plight of poor access to medical care among real Indigenous people is a suggestion made entirely in bad faith, and one that I simply don't care to entertain.

As for the point about harassing people: if anyone's only evidence of being "harassed" by a single, specific person is anonymous messages on tumblr dot com, then I don't believe the evidence. If people are accusing Yesjejunus' "supporters" or "associates" of harassing people, then if the accusation is that this harassment is occurring either on Yesjejunus’ behalf or otherwise with their approval, then it is also going to require more evidence than the mere existence of the mean anonymous messages themselves. This goes for the rumor that they have "spies" in fandom Discord servers or whatever, too, which is a rumor that I think has only manifested among its spreaders by either self-appointed individuals speaking on no one's behalf but their own, and by the metaphorical snake eating its own tail in paranoia. Yesjejunus, and I, and all of our mutual friends have been nothing but annoyed at best and horrified at worst by the efforts of some self-appointed individuals to "defend" them with such excess vitriol. Speaking plainly, we generally avoid literally any kind of anonymous or public interaction with anyone who's vocally opposed to us as a rule, specifically to avoid this kind of debacle, and when I say "we" and "us" I'm not referring to some sort of shadowy cabal of conspirators scheming to advance the nefarious YJJ agenda, but to a group of friends. I don't know how to explain to some people who question why we praise their work or share their art sometimes how normal friendships work online.

I also take severe umbrage with the validity of the breadth of these anonymous harassment accusations because of how patently fraudulent several other claims are. Yesjejunus has recently been accused of "grooming,” for example, an accusation only even worth considering if one temporarily forgets what grooming actually is and pretends that grooming is when someone older interacts in literally any capacity with someone younger. Some will say that they’re not accusing them of grooming per se, or not of grooming by that name, but in any case, the meaning is that Yesjejunus has interacted with minors and this on its own is intended to scare and upset you. I have seen only two users actually named as "victims" of these “interactions,’ however, sas-afras and comrade-shrimp, but both users have publicly refuted this accusation because neither of them were minors when they first interacted with Yesjejunus. Frustratingly, though, these literal refutations from the literal so-called "victims" are either dismissed out of hand or muddied by hand-wringing mutterings of "well, I could have sworn they were actually minors, though" and "well they claim that they weren't actually groomed, but who really knows." The spreading and trust in completely anonymous accusations, combined with the total rejection of statements from the only people named in these accusations when their statements contradict the accusations, suggests to me that the existence of these actual interactions (and assuming these interactions occurred both intentionally and with Yesjejunus’ being fully aware of the other person being a minor) is not nearly as important as pushing the narrative that "Yesjejunus is a groomer" or “preying on minors” onto the fandom, and ensuring that anyone who doesn't take this claim completely at face value appears complicit in something horrible. As for anyone who still feels "uncomfortable" at how sas-afras or comrade-shrimp or me or anyone who is very much an adult but just so happens to be younger than Yesjejunus could ever become endeared to them, I reiterate that sometimes I don't know how to explain to people how normal friendships work online.

I want to conclude by saying something that I've said many times before: you don't have to like Yesjejunus (or me, or everybody, or literally anyone else) and no one is holding a gun to your head to befriend them or read their work or look at their art. The block and filter and unfollow buttons are very conveniently located on your dashboard and are totally free to use. Everything I've written here is not intended as some argument as to why everyone on the planet needs to be following their blog and leaving kudos on Learnin' the Blues. Still, while I think everybody has the right to curate their own dashboard and remove the content that they don't want to see, I also think it's reasonable for me to not want my friend to get their name dragged through the mud by the exaggerated and misinformed claims of petty, grudge-bearing brigadiers and self-aggrandizing fandom security guards when they'd like to just dump funny shitposts about the Burned Man's chode in peace.

#asks #anon #yesjejunus #discourse

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messagefromtheveins · 5 years

Text

Curious Lips [Part 3]

A/N: So, this is Part 3 of my Curious series. But you don’t necessarily need to read the other parts to understand this (I’d appreciate it though)

Also, big shoutout to that anon for giving me a little idea I included!

Words: 3.1k

Pairing: Shawn/reader

Warning: smut. oral (female receiving)

'mom has to work longer today'

Looking up from the scrap of paper Shawn had placed in front of you, you silently looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Biting his bottom lip to hold back the grin, he took the paper again and wrote down something else while the teacher went on and on at the front of the classroom.

'wanna come over after school and enjoy the privacy for a bit?'

Your heartbeat immediately picked up. You knew that he had been trying to find a way to be alone with you for a while so he could finally return the favor, but something had always gotten in the way.

Turning your head to look at him again, you nodded and gave him a soft smile that he returned enthusiastically, his hand placing on your thigh below the table and squeezing gently for a brief moment.

From then on the rest of the school day dragged on, so much that you considered skipping several times- but you never did. And you figured the wait might be worth it as you were finally on the way to Shawn's place, his fingers interlocked with yours and both of you walking a bit faster than you usually would've. Shoes and bags were carelessly left at the front door before he chased you up the stairs, your joyful giggles filling the quiet house.

You were a bit out of breath as you reached his room and flopped down on the bed, excitement filling your veins as he closed the door- and locked it, just in case- before he stepped over to the windows to pull the blinds down just enough to block the sunlight out. You were insanely grateful for it, knowing exactly that you would feel uncomfortably exposed with the afternoon sun shining right into his room. "You sure we'll have enough time?" you asked quietly as he crawled on the bed beside you.

"We should be alone for at least 2 hours," he told you and gave you a soft grin, but you could see that he was also excited about this. He settled down beside you, an arm placed under your head while his lips found yours in a soft kiss, his hand on your waist tugging you closer. "You sure you wanna do this?" he whispered between kisses, smiling as you eagerly nodded your head.

He slowly rolled on top of you without disconnecting your lips, the feeling of his body pressing down on yours making your fingers tremble in anticipation. "But you know you don't have to do this if you don't want to, right?" you asked as he dipped his head to your neck where he left tender little pecks. "I'm not expecting it just because I went down on you the other week."

He released a low groan. "God, baby," he murmured, playfully nuzzling his face against your chest before he shifted further down. He pushed the hem of your T-shirt up to expose your lower stomach, lips immediately chasing the exposed skin while his hands eagerly snuck higher up, leaving goosebumps behind as his fingertips traced over your sides. "I've been dying to get a taste of you ever since I got you off that one night," he mumbled against your skin, his gaze shifting up to look at you as you gasped in response.

Pushing himself up on his knees, he pushed the fabric of your T-shirt higher up and grinned as you grasped the hem and tugged it off without a second of hesitation. He couldn't stop himself from looking at your chest, his fingers slowly tracing over your stomach while he took in the way your boobs spilled just perfectly out of your bra. A surprised but approving smirk spread over your lips as he- surprisingly quickly- undid the button of your jeans and tugged down the zipper before he climbed off the bed.

He was quick to tug his T-shirt off, leaving it on the corner of the bed while he reached out to help you out of your pants. It was a bit of a struggle to get your skinny jeans off and it was far from graceful, but eventually they landed on the floor and he crawled back over you with a hungry look in his eyes. You cupped his face in your hands as he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss while his hands pushed under your back. Arching your spine, you gave him more room to work with as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra- and it was only then that you realized that he had never taken your bra off before.

Amusement started to spread through your chest as several seconds passed before he broke away from your lips with a little huff, his cheeks flushed red and his eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Placing a hand on his chest, you gently pushed him back so you could sit up. "Hey, Shawn," you whispered as you noticed how his jaw was clenched and his fingers trembled a bit against your back, "hold on for a second."

He inhaled sharply as he removed his hands from your body, his shoulders slumping while he rubbed his palms over his face. "Sorry," he sighed and looked at you with frustrated eyes.

You shook your head and gave him a loving smile. Cupping his face in your hands, you leaned in and found his lips in a tender kiss that he immediately returned. "Don't apologize," you whispered after you briefly pulled away from his lips. His hands settled around your bare waist, fingers caressing your skin in ways that gave you goosebumps. "Remember what you told me?" you asked quietly and brushed your thumbs over his flushed cheeks. He swallowed heavily before he lightly shook his head. "Take a deep breath," you told him, a little smile tugging at the corner of his lips, "no need to get so nervous."

Tilting his head back, he stared up at the ceiling as he took a deep breath, his chest expanding before he slowly released it again. His eyes were determined as he looked at you, hands reaching around you and landing on the clasp of your bra again. "They should really make these easier to open," he mumbled under his breath and leaned in closer to you, placing a kiss on the side of your neck.

You pretended like you didn't notice how he peered over your shoulder before he finally got it undone, his sigh of relief making you grin before he sat up straight again. His teeth tugged on his bottom lip as he slowly brushed the straps off your shoulders and watched as you pulled your bra off, eyes full of wonder as he took in your bare upper body for the first time- knowing exactly that from here on there was no way of stopping his dick from getting hard.

He didn't move for several seconds as you laid back down, simply taking in the view in front of him before a smile spread over his lips. "You're gorgeous," he told you, your response lost in your gasped moan as his fingers appeared on the front of your panties, pushing down with just enough pressure that you felt it against your clit. Your eyes fell shut as he leaned over you to kiss you, his lips moving with yours that matched the pace of his finger stimulating your clit through the fabric of your panties. He seemed to be in absolutely no rush, several minutes passing before he pulled back, leaving a quick peck on your jaw while sitting up again. "Can I?" he whispered and toyed with the waistband, fingers tugging on the elastic.

You bit your lip and nodded, your hips lifting off the bed to make it easier for him to pull your panties down your legs. Carelessly dropping the piece of clothing somewhere beside him, he didn't take his eyes off you- he couldn't. You looked so beautiful, your hair like a halo spread out over the pillow around your head and so much soft skin, all for him to explore.

He wanted to take his time to find all the spots on your body that would make you squirm, but he knew that the time today was limited- and that you had been wanting this to happen, not that you had ever said it out loud. So, he let his gaze drop to your center, tongue licking over his lips as his hands gently coaxed your thighs apart. He could see that you were insecure, but when he released a soft moan you grinned, giving him a moment to take in all the places he had gotten to touch before, but never seen with the way you had been hiding under the covers all those times.

Pure amazement and adoration was written in his eyes as he shifted between your legs, hearing the way you exhaled shakily as he slowly parted your folds with two fingers before he circled a digit around your clit. He took his time exploring your core and you tried not to rush him, trying to keep in mind that it was the first time he actually got to see where he was touching, but at some point you couldn't take it anymore. "Shawn..."

It was barely more than a breath but it caught his attention immediately, not stopping his thumb from brushing over your clit as his gaze caught yours. "Sorry, I'm just-" he swallowed heavily, "wow."

You blushed under his intense gaze, wondering how on earth you had managed to score a guy who worshipped your body like that. He noticed how your cheeks flushed and grinned, bracing his free hand beside your head as he leaned in to kiss you. You had hoped that his kisses would calm you down again, but they did the exact opposite- feeling them moving so perfectly against yours made you crave his mouth on your clit even more.

You tilted your head back with a deep breath as he kissed his way down your body, taking a minute to pay some attention to your chest before his kisses moved lower. "What am I supposed to do?" he murmured against your lower stomach.

"Use your tongue," you whispered, your heart racing in your chest as he dipped his head down and licked a broad stripe through your folds. You couldn't hold back the tiny whimper as he reached your clit, your hips immediately tilting to chase after his mouth as he wanted to move lower again. He chuckled softly and moved his full attention to the bundle of nerves, still not entirely sure what he should do as he simply moved his tongue back and forth and left and right.

But apparently it was enough, the way your hands had curled into the sheets and the way your breath kept getting caught in your throat a clear sign for him that he wasn't doing the completely wrong thing. So he let his eyes fall closed and completely concentrated on the way you felt and tasted, his hands coming up to rest on the side of your thighs.

"Shawn?" you suddenly mumbled just when he thought he was getting a hang of it, his eyes opening to look up to you, "could you maybe also use a finger?"

The shy tone in your voice made him pull back, peppering a few soft kisses over your lower stomach while his hands caressed your thighs. "Honey?"

"What's wrong?" you immediately asked, a certain kind of panic in your eyes that made his chest tighten up a bit.

"Nothing's wrong," he shook his head, "I just... you don't need to feel shy about asking me to do something. I need you to tell me what feels good for you, okay? Because I'm completely lost," he grinned, seeing the way you blushed a bit.

You nodded and gave him a soft smile. "Okay," you breathed, his head turning to place a chaste kiss on your thigh before he dipped his head down again. One of his hands left your thigh, his lips attaching to your clit just when he slowly pushed his finger into you. By this point he started getting a bit overwhelmed, the feeling of your walls hugging his fingers something he was sure he would never get tired of. He only thrust his finger in and out a couple of times before you spoke up again.

"Add another one."

He broke away from your clit with a shaky exhale, his length heavily twitching against his jeans as he couldn't stop himself from watching how two of his fingers disappeared inside of you. It was only when you squirmed beneath him that he attached his mouth to your clit again, continuing with the little kitten licks that got the most beautiful sounds out of you.

He was painfully hard underneath his jeans at this point, but he made sure to keep his full attention on you- on the way you kept releasing these little breathy moans and how you gasped out an encouraging 'yes' as he experimentally crooked his fingers. "Try sucking," you suggested in a slightly breathless voice that went straight to his crotch.

His mouth opened wide, sucking as much as he could fit of your core into his mouth. You were speechless for a moment, your eyes opening and head lifting off the pillow to look at him before you started giggling. He immediately looked up to you, eyes unsure as you brought a hand down to lovingly comb it through his ruffled hair.

"On my clit, Shawn," you whispered and had to stop yourself from grinning, remembering exactly how nervous you had been while going down on him the first time and figuring that he probably didn't feel any better- and having you laughing at him definitely wouldn't make it any better. You saw how he blushed heavily as he moved his attention to your clit again, lips wrapping around the bundle of nerves before he sucked softly. The reaction he got out of you was immediate and so strong that his little mishap was instantly forgotten again- your spine arched and your thighs tensed, your hand tangling into his hair to tug a little. "Fuck, yes. Keep doing that," you panted.

He was a total goner at this point, his hips shallowly grinding against the mattress to relieve some of the tension in his jeans as you squirmed and your walls briefly tensed around his fingers. And he could tell that you also got a little lightheaded as he developed a steady pattern of licking, sucking and crooking his fingers. Your chest was quickly moving with heavy breaths and your thighs didn't stop trembling on either side of him as you neared your high.

Reaching his free hand up, he placed it on your chest and gently tweaked your hardened nipple between two fingers, feeling your hand immediately place on the back of his while the other gently tugged on his hair again.

He would never admit it, but his jaw was beginning to ache right before you reached your high- which made him immediately forget about his jaw again. He couldn't remember ever having seen you any more beautiful like in that moment when you came below him. From the way your cheeks flushed, to your stomach tensing, to the way your hips lightly jerked against his mouth.

The way your walls clenched around his fingers was the last straw for him, the thought of how it would feel around his cock having his mind go into overdrive. But he forced himself to concentrate, to work you through your high until you slumped into the bed with a deep and satisfied sigh before he pushed himself up on his knees and undid his jeans.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open as you struggled to catch your breath, a little grin tugging at your lips as you found him still between your legs, jeans carelessly shoved down just enough to free his throbbing hard cock. He had a hand wrapped around himself, jerking himself off with quick pumps.

It was less than a minute before his breath got caught in his throat and his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he reached his high, warm drops of his cum landing on your stomach. His head tilted back as he gave his heavily twitching length a few more slow pumps before he stopped and exhaled deeply, taking a second to gather himself before he moved to grab his T-shirt.

Quickly wiping his fingers on it, he brought it down to clean your stomach as much as possible before he tossed it aside and gave you a bright grin. You smiled widely as he slumped over you, his full weight pressing down on you in a way that made you feel protected. One of his hands pushed under your upper back, the other cupping around the back of your head as he cradled you close to his shoulder.

That was how several minutes passed, neither one of you caring that you were still fully naked and he had his jeans tangled around his thighs, half of his butt exposed. You only concentrated on the other, how both of your breathing slowly went back to normal.

He couldn't believe that you had trusted him with such an intimate moment, when you were the most vulnerable coming undone like that for him. He had been thrilled when you had gone down on him in your bedroom the other week, but this right here meant so much more to him- he wanted to thank you for allowing him to explore your body like this, but you spoke up before he could get a single word out.

"Sorry I laughed," you whispered, your hands roaming over his back- when had you started doing that?- and feeling the way his muscles shifted as he moved to place a kiss on the side of your head. He pushed himself up, part of his weight braced on his lower arms on either side of you as he looked down on you with an affectionate expression in his eyes.

"You really don't have to apologize," he grinned and shook his head, "it was kinda hilarious."

Once the two of you were able to let go of each other you took turns to get cleaned up in the bathroom. The giant and elated grins were still plastered on your faces by the time both of you were back in his bedroom, collapsing on the bed in a heap of tangled limbs- fully clothed again.

It didn't take long before the two of you dozed off into a little afternoon nap.

S.Mendes+Team Taglist: @justanotherfangurl272 @alone-in-madness @waitonmedarling @shawnase @rechema @mendesromano @stradivariusbitch @desire-to-live @alinashawn @lifeoftheparty74 @particularstrings @liliane106 @herbeautifuldarkness @havethetimeeofyourlifee @pastelshawns @delightfullyspeedyearthquake @aargyy @adelaidebaby

(feel free to message me if you want to be removed)

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes blurb #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes writing #shawn peter raul mendes #writing

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toyhouse-dramas-archived · 3 years

Text

Stale Here

Hi! I'm StaleElephantBones, the one that was mentioned earlier on this blog. I actually check in on this blog every so often to check on who to look out for haha! If I could have a moment of your time, I'd be more than happy to clear things up ^^ For whatever reason a very small group has had it out for me lately. I'm not entirely sure why they decided to make me their target, but here we are haha!

The blog in question is nsfwshamecave here on tumblr. If you are 18+ feel free to check it out for yourself and form your own opinion. The blog has been abandoned a little over a year now due to various reasons. Mostly mental health and being sick and tired of minors ignoring my 18+ rule. I want to also point out that I have received zero hate/ harassment from these claims, so thank you everyone for being mature about this. Before I go into detail about anything I'd like anyone reading this to please take the time to read the last post I left on that blog. I feel like it properly expresses that I have left that part of my life behind and have moved on. I'll use the link a previous anon was kind enough to provide (TW:suicide)

https://imgur.com/a/Y3UQbAZ

If you are unaware of what UL is an would like a quick way to learn, here is a link to the UL comic dub. This was my vision for the AU. The comic does touch on touchy topics, but I assure you has a positive message.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iMPsVlgmh0&ab_channel=pshattuckproductions

I want to make it very clear that I do not condone the sexualization of minors. If any of my past content has ever made you uncomfortable, I sincerely apologize. I have come to recognize why aging up characters is problematic and have made a change for the better. If you have any issues with me or the content I made in the past, the block button is right there and you have every right to use it. You are also welcome to message me if you want to have a proper discussion on the matter (message me on TH, not tumblr. I am rarely on here.) I have even made it a point to state which characters in my TH are minors and put a warning on them asking nobody draw nsfw of them. https://toyhou.se/1754156.chalk and https://toyhou.se/3259043.bubble are two examples. I also keep any nsfw characters I do have under mature lock.

Normally I do not respond to accusations like these mostly because I don't want to draw a lot of attention to myself. But it seems like the same person or group of people seem to have a weird obsession with me. If their goal was to get others to ban together and harass me, they failed miserably. I actually just got a wave of messages from people expressing they used to be fans, so it kinda had the opposite effect haha. I'm 80% sure I know who has been trying to spread these rumors, mostly because they sound like the same person who has tried saying the same thing on other sites. If I'm correct, they are highly problematic and have already been called out on TH and other sites for their sketchy behavior. If I'm wrong, I apologize. I will not disclose who I think they are because 1.) I will not accuse anyone with out 100% proof. 2.) If they are who I think they are, I want nothing to do with them or their rotten reputation. And 3.) I refuse to stoop down to their level.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. And a big thank you to everyone who messaged me letting me know about what was being said about me! I appreciate you <3 With all of that being said, I'd like to kindly ask the mod that this topic be put to rest so I can go back to peacefully vibeing with my OC's. They help me cope ^^ Enjoy the rest of your day <3

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phobiadeficient · 4 years

Note

A punishing B by making him wear a remote controlled vibrator? (Speeding bullet or spy/engie please! Also I love your work :) )

i want you guys to know that like the majority of the time when y'all go “this pairing or this one, shrug emoji” i literally just like. coin flip abt it. i don't even have an app i just google “coin flip” and just pick like Any option from the list. that's the brand of messy bitch disease that we have going on up in here. anyways here's your porn like a month late anon sorry

Spy didn’t even realize how hard he was clenching his fists until he heard the leather creak and realized his knuckles were aching.

To be honest, he’d half expected it to be more of an endurance thing. That it’d get turned on and he’d just be expected to ride through it until the Engineer was good and ready to end his silly little game and get on with it. But that didn’t seem to be the direction things were going in.

Because first of all, the Engineer was fiddling with the remote for the thing every few minutes, switching up rhythm and speed and force what seemed to be entirely at random.

And second of all, it had been—and he hadn’t even been checking his watch, wasn’t entirely sure, but it felt like hours, and had probably been at least forty minutes of this, and he wasn’t even looking at Spy all that much besides cursory glances every now and then before promptly returning to what he was working on—the sketch on a blueprint, it seemed, something that required an amount of focus.

He’d started this little game pretty cocky, because he was good at this sort of thing, at ignoring physical urges and keeping a cool head in situations that other people would be entirely distracted by. But some combination of all of this, of the sensation plus the presence of his lover plus the pressure of it being some kind of game, plus the fact that the aforementioned lover was ignoring him plus the idea crowding into frame that maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t read the game correctly and something else was going on, well, it was pulling him apart.

He’d started out with good posture and nonchalance and a smirk that he damn well knew was charming and could send shivers through anyone he chose, composed and flirtatious and unaffected. But forty minutes in, his posture had crumpled, and he was sweating and overheated, his shirt clinging to his skin, his pants entirely uncomfortable, his knees trembling a little bit.

The only thing the Engineer had told him to do was get his clothes back in order and to keep his hands up above the table. And he’d glanced up exactly twice when Spy had moved them, once to adjust his tie and once to tug on his mask to make it sit a bit more comfortably. He knew he wouldn’t get away with sneaking them below the table to make himself more comfortable in any sense of the word.

He stared hard at the Engineer, and the Engineer didn’t even look at him.

He broke somewhere around minute forty-five.

“How much longer is this going to take?” he asked flatly.

He hummed. “Probably somethin’ like an hour or two, haven’t blocked out much besides the general shape,” he replied, tapping some part of the blueprint for emphasis.

Spy clenched his fists. “That isn’t what I meant,” he deadpanned.

The Engineer looked up at him, finally, and Spy felt all the more aware of what a mess he probably looked like. “Oh, right,” he said, as if he’d forgotten, even as he clicked a button and the rhythm shifted again, making a muscle in Spy’s jaw shift. “Well. Guess that depends on a couple of things.”

“Such as?” Spy asked, voice tight.

“You sayin’ you give up?”

He wasn’t entirely sure why the Engineer phrased it like that, only that doing so made him immediately shake his head, maybe a touch too quickly. The Engineer nodded, and returned to his work.

Five minutes passed before a Spy spoke again. “Dell, what exactly is the point of this game?” he managed through gritted teeth.

“Not sure what you mean, darlin’,” he hummed, drawing a line with precision and care using a ruler.

“I’m getting extremely frustrated,” Spy said outright.

“Mm-hmm,” Engie hummed.

“I would very much like to get to whatever happens next,” he said, even more outright, stressing his words.

His focus was swimming so much that somehow he hadn’t noticed the Engineer’s other hand drifting to take hold of the remote again, first and foremost feeling the vibrations cease altogether.

A breath of relief as for a few wonderful moments he thought that the Engineer was moving things along. But after a few seconds, a minute, two minutes, Spy felt confused.

The Engineer looked up at him, adjusted his goggles. “Want me to turn it back on?” he asked calmly, coolly.

The frustration flared back up in an instant. “I want for you to touch me,” Spy all but snapped.

“I know you do. But you don’t get that yet. So do you want me to turn it back on?” he asked, and underneath the calm in his tone and the softness of his voice was a hard edge that sent a shiver down Spy’s back, made him swallow hard.

He hesitated for only a few seconds before he nodded. His head fell as the toy turned back on, thrumming to life and setting his nerve endings aflame.

The short break made the sudden flood of pleasure all the more potent, made him have to fight not to make any kind of noise. And even then he exhaled shakily, eyes screwing shut hard, heartbeat thrumming.

A minute or so later he was already feeling that desperation creeping back into view, making him wish he could at least lower his hands to undo his belt to get a little more comfortable. But even just flexing and curling his hands to try and distract himself gained the Engineer’s attention, his head tilting just slightly for a moment towards him until the movement stopped.

“When will this game be over?” he finally snapped, working hard to keep his voice filled with annoyance and not pleading.

“That depends,” was the level, easygoing reply, and a click, and the rhythm of the toy shifted again, making Spy bite down hard on the inside of his cheek to stay quiet.

“On what?” Spy demanded.

“On whether you’re gonna behave,” Engie said, turning his head to look at Spy.

Alright, he knew this one. “And what exactly is it that you want me to do?” he asked, voice dropping to a purr, even if it was a little unsteady, a little breathless.

The Engineer hummed, started tidying up his workspace a little, putting pencils and rulers and erasers back where they belonged. Once it was reasonably tidied, he looked back over. “I want you to quit mouthin’ off so much to the team,” he said, and Spy blinked.

He laughed incredulously. “You can’t be serious,” he managed. “All of this over—“

“You’re bein’ a real menace,” the Engineer interrupted, cutting Spy off cold. “Usually it’s just a snide comment here and there, but lately you’ve really been hitting the team hard. Makin’ a damn fool out of everyone, belittling people—hell, I’d call it outright bullying. And what you’re gonna do now, after tonight, is stop that.”

“Or what?” Spy couldn’t help but challenge.

“I guess you’ll see,” he shrugged.

Spy huffed. “Am I supposed to be scared?” he teased.

The vibrator shut off.

He blinked. Shifted. Held eye contact even as his eyebrows furrowed.

There was a long pause before the Engineer spoke, and when he did, he was still casual, conversational even. “That was a bit rude, darlin’. Ought to apologize,” he prompted.

Spy sneered, even as he shifted, weighted his options. Ultimately, his head didn’t win out. “Fine, I’m sorry,” he said, flippant, only to become significantly less flippant as his apology was rewarded with the toy being switched back on.

Then the Engineer was standing up, rounding the table. Spy turned to meet him, but was flipped right back around again, wrists pinned to the tabletop with one hand, the Engineer’s broad chest pressing into his back and trapping him even further in place. “You sorry for makin’ fools of the team?” he asked.

Spy managed to gather his thoughts enough to consider his options. “...And what do I get if I apologize?” he prompted.

“You’ll see,” the Engineer said.

“And if I don’t?”

“You already know that one,” he said, meaningfully turning the remote around in his free hand.

Spy scowled. “Ugh. Oui, I’m sorry.”

The remote was placed on the tabletop—within his reach, although he’d never be able to grab it with his wrists pinned—and the Engineer’s hand trailed down his abdomen and to his pants, and made quick—if slightly rough—work of getting them open. He sighed in relief, extremely pleased with this turn of events, even if the Engineer didn’t touch him much beyond that. Just that much was a blessing.

“You sorry for acting like an ass to everyone?” the Enginner prompted.

“Oui,” Spy answered easily enough, not much meaning behind the words, more easily giving over into the pleasure once the pressure and immense discomfort of his pants was resolved.

His reward was the Engineer helping him pull his pants a little way down his legs, freeing him outright, and he gave a gaspy little noise at it, rocking forward slightly when he was able.

“And are you sorry for being so damn mean?” the Engineer asked next.

“I suppose,” Spy joked.

Silence, stillness. “I beg your pardon?” the Engineer asked, squeezing his wrists slightly, almost threateningly.

“If it moves along the game, then I suppose,” Spy teased, trying to glance over his shoulder.

The Engineer was quiet for a moment, then he was moving—except he was pulling Spy’s clothes back on, movements rough.

Spy was shaken from the euphoria, blinking, startled as he realized what was happening. “Oh, come on. Don’t you want to move on from this ridiculous game?” he tried, a little frustrated.

The Engineer moved the remote out of reach and released Spy’s wrists long enough to do his pants back up, absolutely no care or gentleness in the motion.

“Ow, ow! Dell!” he yelped, indignant. “Fine, fine! I’m sorry!”

Stillness again. He steadied himself with a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I apologize,” he repeated, tone uneven, well shaken.

“Good,” the Engineer said quietly, and moved to undress him again. Spy only got to relax for a moment, though, before he spoke again. “But if you’re gonna misbehave like that, I might need somethin’ to help me...”

Spy was left alone for only a moment, only long enough to have an internal argument about whether he was allowed to turn around and see what was going on. Then his arms were being pulled behind his back and tied together, and this time both of the Engineer’s hands were free to torment him.

They traced meaningfully up Spy’s chest, left somewhat vulnerable when his arms were tied. “You said you were sorry for being so mean to everyone?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Spy nodded, too keyed up to argue the point again, and was rewarded with his tie being pulled off and his jacket and dress shirt being undone and left to hang open.

A moment’s thought from the Engineer, tracing over his undershirt. “The suits themselves are expensive, but not so much the undershirt and all that,” he said, only partially a question.

Spy nodded hesitantly, distractedly.

In one motion, he siezed the undershirt in both hands and ripped it clean open.

Spy cried out, alarmed, before he realized what had happened and relaxed again, muscle by muscle, heart absolutely pounding as the moment of fear resolved itself as absolute lust in the aftermath, his face heating up bright red.

“You gonna keep acting like a damn menace to the team?” the Engineer prompted, hands smoothing up Spy’s freshly-bared chest.

He swallowed hard. “Dell, please. I would like for this game to be over,” he said, voice breaking a little bit as his desperation reached its boiling point.

“That’s not an answer, doll.”

Spy steadied himself with a deep breath. “Fine. Yes, I’ll be civil.”

“You’ll be good?” he was prompted, and he shivered bodily.

“I’ll be good,” Spy agreed, head hanging.

“Prove it. Say please.”

The flood of conflicting emotions resolved as a kind of overload, his arms starting to tremble a bit. “Please,” he said, terribly quiet.

The toy shut off.

Spy immediately began to struggle against his bonds. “Oh, come on, I said it, I said I was sorry, I apologized, I-I said please, what more do you want from me—?!” he began to protest, outright desperate.

“Hush, hush,” the Engineer was quick to say, urging him to stand, to bend over the table. “Toy just ran out of power is all, darlin’, you did good. You did real good.”

Spy couldn’t quite bite back his moan as the toy was pulled free of his body and set aside, and god, it looked so small there on the table, and yet it had pulled him apart so effortlessly. “Dell,” he managed, voice shaky but still full of warning.

“I know,” he said, voice teasing, and then Spy was full again, this time of three thick fingers, gloved and slick, and any further complaints were pushed right out of view as he was pushed back open and slicked back up. “Think you can hold out long enough for me to get in?”

Spy had to think hard about it, could only distantly register his own heaving chest for a few moments. “I—I am not, sure,” he managed between panting, and cried out sharply as he got the first firm touch of that night in exactly the right place, and after so long of teasing it was almost too much for him to handle, too much pleasure making his toes curl in their shoes. “I-I-I—“

He was gently shushed again by a hand petting over his back, and his fingers moved softer and more slowly from then on, drawing out his pleasure in gentle throbs rather than in lightning bolts, a tide on the shoreline instead of being hit by a truck or three.

He wasn’t entirely sure that he was making sense anymore, could feel words exiting his mouth and could hear them being said, but he couldn’t process them on any level. He just heard the Engineer responding to them with praises and affirmations, and it drew him up higher and higher.

“Dell, please,” he managed, fighting hard to say it through the haze he’d fallen into, voice wavering.

“I’ve got you, doll, I’ve got you,” he assured, and then the Engineer reached around in front of him to tug him off, also so gently, so aware of how close he was to being entirely overwhelmed, and when he finally came it took him a few moments afterwards to remember how to breathe.

He was a model teammate in the following few days, at least until he was sure that the Engineer had probably had enough time to charge that toy again.

#//engiespy #//bondage #//teasing #//powerplay

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fatbottombucky · 6 years

Text

Scattered Paper *Bucky Barnes x Reader*

Request by Anon: You know this moment in movies when someone nerdy drops their books or spills their coffee on their crush who's super popular? Could you maybe do this for Bucky x male reader?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male!Reader

Ratings: Teen [PG-13]

Warnings: Very clichè & you ALL asked for fluff tropes. So, here it is!

Authors Note: this is so cheesy, I love it. Mate, everyone needs to write tropes with Male readers it’s actually so much fun to write. I’m having a blast with it lol - Rosalie🍑

“He’s coming this way,” excitable whispers hushed through the science lab, “Shhhh, here he comes.”

You didn’t have to turn in your chair to know who the girls were fawning over, you’ve worked with the same girls for a year now, all openly expressing their desire for one male Avenger. You’ve listened to their coffee chats, their hushed whispers of lust, even was accidentally sent a very vivid, and graphic, email of said male.

James Barnes, Bucky, aka White Wolf; is the desire of every woman’s attention at the Avengers base. No matter what your type is, Bucky seemed to be able to wiggle his way onto your list of desired men to bed. He’s silent in the interesting way, not the creepy way. He’s intimidating but in the protective way, he’s also ruggedly handsome, but somehow adorable all at once. He’s incredibly strong; mind, soul and body wise. Very smart too, his intuition often plays a key element in why all his missions are successful.

So, maybe, it isn’t just the women Bucky has after him. There’s a few men that would “go there”, so to speak. You’ve heard the usual “what male avenger would you fuck, if you had to?” Question, you’ve never answered because that’s highly unprofessional.

You’d say Bucky, you’d always pick Bucky.

You’ve never had a conversation with the guy, crippling fear of embarrassing yourself in front of him. You’re just some guy that works in the labs, some nerd to him, probably. He’s the rough-tough Avenger, the one with a harden shell and steely look, the one that lost everything but given a second chance. He’s the unreachable boyfriend of your dreams, the guy you compare every potential suitor against- no wonder you’re single, no one can compete with James Barnes.

Unlike the women of your section, you don’t openly gawk at the bloke. You keep your staring to a minimum, well you try to, at least. You have been known to take the long route out of the compound, going up two levels and walking past the gym at exactly 5pm, and you happen to look to see Barnes working out; you just HAPPEN to do that. One time you did trip on nothing because he was working out with no shirt, but you played it off as a shoelace incident.

In other words, to you, Bucky is out of your league. An Adonis. You’re just some nerdy guy, glasses and all, sometimes you wear Star Trek shirts to work. You’re clumsy and your mind is a chaotic mess, you forget where you left your coffee even though you made it five minutes before. So, as you have done with all the Avengers, including Bucky, you’ve kept out of their way and off their radar.

Till, now that is.

“Y/N,” you spin in your chair and see Dr. Helen Cho walking towards you, stacks of papers and files in her arms; clearly struggling.

You stand up quickly, grabbing the stack and instantly regretting it. You aren’t weak, but your biggest muscle is your brain and that doesn’t win too many fights; luckily you aren’t in fights that often. You place the heavy stack down, playing it off as easy and that it definitely wasn’t heavy to you.

“I hate to be a pain, but there’s no way I’d be able to carry these to level 5, Banner and Stark need them. Do you mind?” You widen your eyes a little, trying to find some excuse, “please, you’re the only one here that has level 5 access too,” that was true but you never went up there, you hadn’t seen Tony since you were given the job and that was last year in April.

You nod and smile, “Sure, I’m not busy.” You sighed, scratching your neck out of awkwardness, she nods with a smile and leaves to her office.

Looking at the tower stack you heaved a sigh, grabbing the papers and files. You struggled to push open doors on your way to the elevator, often getting help from other staff members, quietly thanking them before going on your way. A few Agents, people that go out on the field when the Avengers can’t, watch and laugh at your struggle.

Lifting your left foot and resting it on the wall, resting the papers on your knee, you lean forward and press the elevator button. Praying it wouldn’t take too long because the strain on your leg, plus fingers was becoming uncomfortable and unbearable.

“Hey, Y/N?” You look over your shoulder to see Sharon Carter walking to you, you tried to wave but opted for just smiling when the stack almost fell, “need a hand?” The blonde raised an eyebrow at your tower of paper.

“Nope. I am fine, what’s up?” You tried to play it off and grinned, clearly needing some help but too stubborn and awkward to accept or ask for it.

Sharon chuckled, “hey, man, could you take these files to Rogers for me?” Waving the red file in her hand, a smirk settling on her face, “you’re going up anyway, right? It’d be a big help.” Before you can answer she’s placing the file on top, standing on her tippy toes and sliding it on like a jenga block.

You watch with a glare as she turns, smiling to herself and leaving down the crowded corridor. The elevator dings and you walk inside, grumbling to yourself about her rudeness as you click the button for level five, stating your name and code number to the AI. You place the paper pile down for the few seconds, stretching your fingers slightly, examining them for paper cuts.

The door opens and you quickly grab the stack walking out before the doors close, groaning at the fact you had picked up the stack in an odd manner. The stack was now blocking your view, you couldn’t see in front of you, you stand in the middle of the silent corridor debating on what to do. You decided to carry on, everyone will just have to move out of the way for you instead. You slowly began to walk, carefully listening for other people’s footsteps but hearing none.

You turn a corner, almost to your destination when you smack into something hard. Papers and files fall to the floor, papers scattering the ground, along with you. You fell backwards and landed on your butt, groaning at the sudden contact with the hardwood flooring.

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice makes you look up in shock, “I wasn’t looking where I was going, I space out a lot,” he offers a hand out for you to grab, you stare at it for a few seconds before accepting it and he heaves you up; a little too aggressively because you almost fall forwards. “Wow! You’re really light!” He chuckles to himself, amused by your smallness.

You just smacked into James Barnes, an Avenger. Quickly repositioning your glasses, “I should be apologising, sorry. Agent Barnes, it’s my bad.” Instead of looking at him, you quickly avert your attention to the scattered paper and begin picking them up. Bucky kneels down with you, also picking up the paper, “you don’t need to help me, I’m sure you’ve got better things to do.”

He scoffs playfully, “Nah, it’s okay. I’d feel like a dick for walking away, plus it’s kinda my job to help cute guys in distress,” he drops a playful wink.

You choke silently on air, you can feel your face flushing and heat rising across your neck. The hairs on your arm standing on end, your fingers feel tingly and butterflies swarm in your stomach. If you breathed any heavier your glasses will start to steam up from the heat you’re producing, you feel way too flushed. Instead of answering you carry on picking up the papers, fingers fumbling around and your throat feeling dry.

As you reach for the last paper, so does Bucky and your hands brush one another. You pull back, a little shyly and Bucky picks the paper up and stands up, you slowly do the same and smile timidly at the man before you. He’s taller this close up, by almost a foot and he has a boyish grin on his face, one you hadn’t seen before.

“I’ll help you carry these,” he holds up a hand when you go to protest, “take it as a token of my apologies for bumping into you…” you nod once, “and that time when you tripped up outside the gym because of me.”

You widen your eyes in shock, Bucky chuckles loudly, “I didn’t-I wasn’t… shut up, man.” You click your tongue, trying to come up with a viable excuse, “I walk that way out, my shoelace was untied… it can happen,” your confident excuses turns into a mumbled confirmation of your not-so-sneaky way of appreciating him from afar.

“It’s fine,” Bucky smiles a little shyly, “I do the same, I never have any reason to go down to the labs, I only do that to see you.”

Your eyes fly up to Bucky, he’s fiddling with the papers in his hand and biting his bottom lip, you’ve never seen this side of him before. He looks vulnerable, a little nervous about his confession, it’s oddly endearing and adorable. Before you can speak he holds the papers, giving a little head tilt. You’re both walking towards Stark’s office, a little distance between you both.

It’s silent between you both, a few people walk past and greet Bucky and yourself, mostly Bucky. You end up at Tony’s office door where his assistant tells you he’s out, you both leave the papers on her desk and leave. You place your hands in your hoodie pockets, quickly glancing at Bucky who is slowly strolling beside you.

“So,” you begin and Bucky looks at you, snapping his attention to you, “I need to go back to work, you need to go save the world or something,” he nodded and let out a strained chuckle, “was you lying earlier?” Bucky frowns, “when you said that you come down to the lab… for me?”

Bucky lets out a small laugh, raising his left arm and scratching the back of his neck, sighing lightly and shaking his head. “I know it’s creepy but I didn’t know how to approach you and I heard from people you like guys too, but I just got nervous. I’d get the courage and go down, then chicken out and leave again,” you smile to yourself, “embarrassing, I know. I’m an Avenger but I can’t ask out a guy.”

“Well, I mean, you can try now.” You smile and Bucky has a small glimmer of hope in his eyes, he nods to himself and mutters something under his breath.

Bucky opens his mouth but, “Agent Barnes you’re needed on assignment. Flight deck 4, ten minutes.” Agent Romanoff’s voice coming through the tanoid.

Bucky shuts and squeezes his eyes closed for a second, muttering a small “fuck sake” to himself. You give a gentle smile, shrugging your shoulders at him. “I gotta go save the world or whatever,” he starts to walk backwards and looks a little defeated.

“Hey, if you’re back and not dead, we can go out this Saturday?” You ask.

A bright smile comes upon Bucky's face and he nods, “something to come back to.”

(A part of me wanted to write this with a high school AU, I might still do that because it’ll be hilarious and cute. But I decided to write it without the AU because it’s still adorable, I love this type of trope tho. Where the two people have been mutually pining after one another, then they bump into each other and then just as one is about to ask the other out something comes up!! I live for it. Hope you all liked this!! - Rosalie🍑)

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x male reader #bucky barnes x male!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x male #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #winter soldier one shot #the winter soldier x reader #male reader #marvel

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avengerdragoness · 7 years

Text

Just Shy [Tim Drake x Reader]

Requested by anon: “Could you do one with Tim where the reader is really shy and because of that people think she's a snob but Tim and her get paired together on a project or something and they get to know each other and he finds out she's not really a snob”

A/n: I hope you like this! I made it a bit fluffy lol.

Warning: Mentions of bullying.

_______

You have never been a person who has wanted to be the center of attention. Being the center of attention makes you uncomfortable, often times you prefer to just keep to yourself in the back of the classroom. People may try to attempt conversation, but your shyness just makes you clam up even more.

Many of your classmates think you’re being a snob or feel as though you think you’re better than them. But they couldn’t be more wrong, if they attempted to get to know you and be patient with your shyness, they’d learn you’re just not good around new people, when you are more comfortable around people you can actually be rather outgoing. However, no one has made that attempt. Making school a living hell.

Group projects were your worst nightmare, meaning the words “You’ll be in groups for this assignment” made your blood run cold. Your Physics teacher just announced you’d be making rockets out of water bottles, the groups were groups of two. Dread grew in you as the teacher began to list the pairs.

“Finally the last group will be [F/n] and Tim” the teacher announced, glancing you saw Tim Drake looking back at you, a kind smile on his face. You didn’t mind him, he’s always been nice to you. He’s even stuck up for you before when some kids were talking shit about you. You didn’t witness it but heard it through the gossip of the high school.

As soon as the teacher finished the explanation of the project the bell rang. “Alright everyone, this is due by Monday. Have a great weekend and stay safe.” Your teacher yelled as students began to file out of the room. It being last period and everyone was eager to hang out with their friends.

Packing up your things, but noticing the figure come up in front of you. Peering up you saw Tim standing there. He smiled at you, “I guess we’re partners.” You simply nodded in response, your books hugged to your chest. “Um, if you’re not busy today we could start on the project tonight.” he offered, unsure of how you’d respond.

“I uh.” Your voice was barely audible. “I don’t have plans”

“Alright, will it be okay with your parents?” He asked, nodding in response he grinned wider. You could tell he was excited for this project, Tim was probably the smartest kid in the school. This was right up his alley. “Awesome, I can give you a ride if you like? My ride should be here.” Tim pointed out of the classroom door.

“S-sure” stuttering before he lead you out of the school. You followed him up to a black town car with a older looking man standing outside of it.

“Hey Alfred” Tim called as you lagged behind him. “Hello Master Timothy, are you prepared to return to the manor?”

“Sounds good, oh and Alfred this is [F/n] we’ve been paired up for a project. She’s coming over and we’re going to work on it.” Tim explained while gesturing to you. Alfred’s eyes fell on you, “Oh, it’s a pleasure to meet you Miss [F/n]” he nodded to you. Though your voice caught in your throat as you diverted your eyes. He seemed a bit shocked at your reaction, but Alfred must have known it was due to shyness. He smiled at you softly, “No need to be shy Miss [F/n], we don’t bite. As long as you steer clear of Master Damian.” Alfred said as Tim let out a laugh. Your eyes widened as you looked over at Tim worried. “Don’t worry he’s kidding” Tim assured before showing you into the car.

You watched out the window as the car drove out of the city. Blocking out the conversation Tim was having with Alfred. Nervously you fiddled with the hem of your skirt or the button of your uniform. You felt as if you should say something but just couldn’t, you were scared you would say the wrong thing. You’re currently in a town car with the handsome son of a billionaire. What were you going to say? You’re simply the the daughter of working class parents who is going to Gotham Academy on a academic scholarship. This isn’t really your normal.

Tim noticed your nervousness, he always heard from classmates that you’re a snob. Though you don’t seem that way. A snob wouldn’t have averted Alfred’s gaze the way you did. A snob would’ve rolled their eyes at his gesture, you just.. shrunk. Tim doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re smart. Second in your class, him being the first. He always had found you intriguing. You’re an unknown variable that he could never solve by just observing you. So, the minute you sat in the car he decided he would make it a mission to get to know you better.

When Alfred pulled through the gate of the manor he noticed you tense. The sheer size of the manor was enough to make you uneasy. What are you going to do about its occupants? Tim cut into your nervousness, “Don’t worry it’s not as intimidating as it looks.”

“Says the one who lives there” you whisper to yourself, catching Tim off guard. You didn’t mean for him to hear it, and he realized that you didn’t notice he had. Though he felt you must be getting a bit more comfortable for you to say something sassy. Hell, he’s barely heard you speak. After putting the car in park Alfred opened your door, you held onto your bag strap tight. Anxiety beginning to fill your body.

Hesitantly you followed Tim up to the door. Alfred left again in the town car, saying he had some errands to run. He pushed the door open only to hear the sound of arguing. Tim showed you in before looking in the living room to see Dick pestering Damian as Jason sat by laughing. “What are you guys doing?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Grayson will not stop his incessant singing!” Damian yelled glaring at his oldest brother. Dick only began to sing ‘Hakuna Matata’ even louder. He must’ve recently watched Lion King. Jason just laughed, enjoying the pain this was inflicting on Damian. Though they were both shocked when they heard Dick come to a stop, following his stare behind Tim.

“Oh my god! Tim brought home a girl!” Dick cheered, making you jump. “Wow Timmy Bird didn’t think you had it in ya” Jason teased.

Tim’s face caught fire at his brother’s comments. “It’s not like that!” he yelped, embarrassment flushing over him. Your state not much better. “Well you should make it like that, she’s cute!” Dick whispered with a wink. Tim only groaned before facing you, “Sorry about them, we can work in my room” apologizing before showing you up the stairs.

You were embarrassed yes, but for some reason you were beginning to feel more comfortable. Maybe it was because of the fact you weren’t the only embarrassed one. “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess” Tim said before throwing some scattered papers on his desk. You took note of the amount of coffee cups he had scattered around. “I-it’s okay” you answered, only with a slight stutter. Hey! Progress!

You cleared your voice, deciding to face your shyness a bit. “S-so, you like coffee I see.” Tim was caught off guard, were you making conversation? He smiled before chuckling, “Yeah, my family thinks I have a problem. Do you?” Asking while placing his bag on his desk. You shrugged, “Sometimes.”

“So uh, let’s get started” he said while pulling out the assignment and his laptop. Hesitantly you sat next to him. He began to explain different designs and ways to make it go the farthest. You both fell into a rhythm. Beginning to become comfortable with him, your amount of talking increased by the minute. It didn’t take you both long to hash out an idea and begin to building process. You were done by the time Alfred was back from his errands.

Alfred came to the door at one point but heard you both talking. Deciding to leave you be he let you both continue. You and Tim had gotten to talking about things outside of school, learning a lot about each other, and that you have a lot in common. But he was waiting to touch on a certain subject.

“Hey, um, I mean you don’t have to answer this but [F/n] what makes you so shy?” Tim asked curious yet uncertain. You looked away, hiding your face from him. “I um. I was bullied in middle school, vowed when I got to high school I wouldn’t do anything to get myself picked on again. Gotham Academy didn’t have any of my old classmates so I just didn’t attempt to make friends. I was scared if I did history would repeat itself.”

Tim nodded in understanding. “I get it, but [F/n] you’re really amazing. You’re smart and talented, you shouldn’t be afraid to be who you are. I mean I’m smart to and people are usually kind.” He smiled, trying to reassure you.

“People are more comfortable around you! You’re smart, and funny, and cool, and good looking.” Blurting out without thinking. Immediately embarrassed you covered your mouth blushing. His face was just as crimson, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “You think I’m good looking?”

Blushing more you threw shyness to the wind and nodded. “I uh I do. Sorry that was weird for me to blurt out. I guess I’m just not used to talking.” laughing nervously. “Oh no no don’t apologize! I um, I actually feel that way about you.”

“You do?” asking him astonished. He chuckled at your shocked expression, “Yeah I do. What would you say to doing something this weekend? Since we already have the project finished.”

“I um” smiling sheepishly “I just.” You looked up at him, meeting a hopeful look in his eyes. Gulping down your nerves, answering “I would love to.” He allowed a wide grin onto his face, nervousness flushing out of his system.

You both were grinning at each other before a knock on the door interrupted you. “Master Timothy, dinner will be ready within the hour. Should we expect Miss [F/n] to be joining us?” You and Tim exchanged a look before you spoke, “I uh, I should actually be getting home soon. My parents will be expecting me for dinner.” Your more comfortable tone catching Alfred off guard.

“I will happily give you a ride to your home Miss [F/n].” Alfred smiled at you, happy to see you’ve come out of your shell. “Master Tim I suggest you prepare for dinner and for tonight” Alfred said before going to get the car.

You packed up your things before pulling your bag over your shoulder. “I guess I will text you” Tim questioned, walking you to the front door. “Yeah, I’d like that” smiling shyly at your feet before he opened the door for you and allowed you out.

He beamed when closing the door. Looking into the living room to see Dick and Jason smirking at him, “Timmy’s got a date” Jason teased as Dick laughed. “He took our advice for once, and now he’s got the girl. We should have an advice column” Dick looked over to Jason who chuckled. Tim just shook his head and rolled his eyes, “I hate you both.”

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eeveeprincessxd · 7 years

Note

That doesn't really seem to suggest you don't think of your companions as disposable, you just used flowery language to state the same thing while sounding nicer.

I don’t consider my friends disposable. I don’t LIKE to consider my friends disposable. What I’m saying is that it’s healthy to have boundaries, and if your friends can’t respect your boundaries, then it’s not a healthy relationship. I bet that won’t convince you, though, so here’s a little story or two:

In high school, I dated a guy who treated me like a princess, except that he was very jealous of me (and I mean jealous in its proper usage, “afraid of losing what you have” rather than the confused-with-envy definition of “wanting what someone else has”) to a paranoid extreme. When I spent a lot of time with my at-the-time long-term best friend and not that guy as much, he began to suspect I was gay and in the closet (he actually admitted this to me at one point when we were going through a rough patch). Now admittedly, it turns out I’m ace and not entirely sure where I fall on the romantic orientation side of things, but that suspicion, that implication that I didn’t really love him and was too scared to admit it, stung like hell.

I couldn’t break up with this guy either, because I’m overly empathetic and he used that against me, bursting into tears and insisting we meet to talk our issues over and try to make things right whenever I tried to break up with him. What actually happened was that he started crying, causing me to start crying, and then he swore he’d do better. Except he didn’t do better at all. He went right back to his possessive ways, and when I tried to break up with him again, he pulled the exact same thing, begging for a chance to meet and discuss that I now knew would just be another crying fit that would still leave us an item at the end of the day. The only way I was finally able to break it off with him was to go to college out-of-state without telling him my school contact info and also block his number on my phone.

In college, I made friends with a guy who I honestly only tolerated because we had similar interests. The fact of the matter was that this guy very intentionally had no filter, and delighted in pushing everyone’s buttons. He littered his conversations with innuendos to the point that I always had trouble accepting drinks from him because he’d refer to them as “his juices”, if you know what I mean. For me, a sex-repulsed ace, this was extremely uncomfortable. I kept telling him to stop, explaining the issues I had with his behavior, and he would apologize... only to go right back to doing it. Finally, one night, he crossed the line, showing me a work in which he put one of my kintypes in a very explicitly sexual situation. I couldn’t take it anymore. I snapped at him and blocked his Skype on the spot, then cried about it for a good long time, because I’d just broken it off with one of my only college buddies who had actually kept coming back to campus the three years I’d been going there. I was heartbroken, seeing yet another friend get “lost”, and to such a mess of an argument.

Do you see a connection here? I don’t LIKE cutting people off, anon. I don’t think of ANYONE as disposable if I can help it. However, I recognize that certain people just have no respect for boundaries, and that relationships with such people aren’t remotely healthy for me, and sometimes breaking it off with someone who won’t take your “no” for an answer is the only way to get the space you need out of them, even when it hurts like hell.

#vee rants #anonymous

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