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elexaria · 2 months

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living with ghoap was nice. two big burly fellas to keep you company, to reach the top shelves in the kitchen for you, to absolutely plough you into the mattress when you couldnt itch your own scratch for once. they were good lads.

but there were countless times where they’d be away for work, so you knew you couldnt be fully dependent on them. they knew that too, so they weren’t exactly going to object to you having fun without them. so long as you were happy and safe, they were content.

but fuck, the men out there are absolutely horrible to deal with. sleazy, there’s just… no ability to have any kind of banter with these things that think only with their cocks.

until you meet kilgöre alexander.

he’s gigantic, his shoulders probably share the same width as mount everest’s base. easily, kilgöre is the tallest man you’ve ever been with. he dwarfs simon in size, which is very telling in itself.

it’s hard to pry away at who kilgöre is as a person. he’s austrian, likes keeping himself to himself. absolutely refuses to tell you what he does for a living, because it’s on a need to know basis. “sounds like something a terrorist would say.” you jokingly coo one night at dinner, smirking as he rolls his foggy blue eyes at your comment. “har har, very funny.” he mockingly says, the corners of his lips twitching ever so slightly.

he’s one of the best things that’s happened to you in a while. he doesn’t know about the particular living arrangement you share with simon and johnny— like he says, it’s on a need to know basis. plus, you haven’t boned either of them since you met this fella. ghoap know what’s up, but they’re not bothered by it. they’re just glad to see you doing well for yourself. “ye have a glow about ye, love.” johnny coos in your ear one day, smirking as he watches you fluster and flounder around the kitchen, trying to make excuses. “it’s the vitamins i’m taking” this and “i’ve quit dairy” that. he knows the truth, simon know its too.

but there’s one thing that makes the attachment to this man absolutely unbearable.

he disappears from time to time.

some days it’s only a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks at a push. absolutely no contact.

he swears it’s to do with his line of work, that one day he’ll be able to tell you everything. but for now, he asks just for one thing.

“just… wait for me.”

it’s been almost a month with no contact from kilgöre, and it feels like every morning with no text, no nothing, you have a growing pit inside of you that can’t stop gnawing at you, eating you up whole. what the fuck? what could he possibly do for a career that makes it so he goes days without checking his phone? it makes you feel sick to your stomach. what if he’s in a gang or something?

besides, how the fuck can you keep on waiting for someone who you don’t even know is even alive? for all you know, this behemoth of a man has been hog tied and dumped at the bottom of a lake with cinder blocks strapped to his feet. how are you supposed to wait for someone who shows no signs of leaving or coming back?

“that light in yer eyes has dulled.” johnny remarks one evening, a sad smile on his lips. your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion. “huh? oh, yeah. uh… it’s the gluten intolerance i reckon.” you murmur to yourself, flashing a weak smile to consolidate his inquisitive gaze. “i’m fine, though.”

simon huffs as he leers next to you, skilfully flaying pieces of fish with a pensive look. both you and johnny glance at him, which only makes him grunt in response. you furrow your eyebrows at him, urging him to elaborate on what the pressing issue is.

“we reckon shit’s hit the fan with that new bloke of yours.” simon bluntly replies as he wipes off the chopping board with a damp cloth, hands gently scooping up guts, scales and delicate fish bones to dispose of. you scoff, eyes never leaving the cuts of fish meat that rest on a plate, waiting to be delicately battered and fried up.

“whatev—“

“and i know you, you’ll try and refute the truth that i know what’s going on. that we know what’s going on. so, none of this nonsense, alright? what’s up?”

johnny and simon silently watch you, their simultaneous waiting for any reaction from you making your skin crawl. at first, you scowl and huff. shifting your weight from foot to foot as you become defensive. simon cuts you off again, “none of that bollocks. tell the truth.”

you give in. on bated breath, you explain the whole situation. how kilgöre is the kind of man you had never expected to fall for, how he had managed to steal your attention even while being so elusive and secretive. how you desperately want him to come back to you, like he said he would.

johnny frowns, and simon nods in your direction, wiping his blood stained hands with the damp cloth. “fishy hands.” he murmurs, wiggling his fingers to prove he can’t comfort you with a hug. johnny nods, swiftly making his way around the kitchen island to come give you a warm hug. it’s a solid hug, one you’d never object to having. johnny’s large hands rub circles to your back, his bearded chin resting against your shoulder as he sways gently.

simon stands behind johnny, holding eye contact with you as he continued to carefully clean his hands. he raises his eyebrows in thought, before glancing down at his fingernails as he begins to meticulously clean underneath them to rid his skin of all things fish.

“this… kilgöre bloke. i reckon if he’s the one, he’s worth waitin’ for. but don’t think for a second he should get away with leavin’ you this long without so much as a text, yeah? rip ‘im a new one when he comes back.” he advises, glancing back up at you with a slight smirk when he hears you chuckle, your laugh strained with emotion.

he steps closer, carefully tilting your chin up so you can meet his gaze better. he gently wipes a stray tear from your cheek. “if he’s the man you think he is, he’ll explain everything if you ask him to. and if he does? great. if he doesn’t?” you wince at the idea, frowning.

he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow.

“then he’s a bloody eejit, as our johnny boy would say.”

#elexaria writes #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #poly!ghoap #poly!ghoap x reader #könig #könig x reader

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seijorhi · 3 months

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Etched in Red: Vermillion (Part One)

Event Masterlist

Okkotsu Yuuta x female reader

Part Two

w.c 1.4k

tw: yandere themes, kidnapping, implied dub/non-con, non-explicit gore

There’s nothing… wrong with being weak.

It isn’t a moral failing or anything to be ashamed of, it just is. For most people – normal people – that’s okay. They accept it, adjust their lives accordingly and move on.

The thing is, most people don’t actually need to be strong, not in the physical sense.

Most people aren’t jujutsu sorcerers.

Yuuta frowns, watching you laugh as Inumaki offers a hand to haul you up to your feet, brushing the dirt and grass of your skirt once you’re upright. Another sparring session that ends the exact same way all of them do; you, flat on your ass, wholly at the mercy of whichever of his friends is standing over you.

Problem is, they’re going easy on you; Maki leaving her left side wide open, Panda practically telegraphing his hits. Lately, he’s noticed it with Yuji and the other second years, too. It’s like an unwritten rule that they never go too hard, never push you too far. Trying to help you without hurting you in the process.

Because the simple, painful truth is, you aren’t strong enough to take it.

And believe it or not, he does get it… sort of. When Gojo dragged him into this he was petrified. Useless. He got thrown in the deep end, first first with Maki and then with Inumaki, and he had to figure it out fast, but… he also had Rika.

He also had his cursed technique.

Three years in, with graduation looming, you’re a step above a window. Still a grade four, although unlike with Maki it’s not some political, sexist bullshit keeping you there.

For right now, that’s okay. They’re your friends, none of them think any worse of you for it. They cover you on the missions you’re sent out on, and that’s not gonna change any time soon, but–

“Everything okay, Yuuta?”

He exhales a shuddering breath then straightens and turns your way with a smile. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Are you?” he asks, idly toeing at a rock by his feet. Maybe you won’t notice the flush colouring his cheeks. “Looked like you hit the ground pretty hard back there.”

You laugh, waving it off like it’s no big deal, and to be fair it isn’t – you go through this multiple times a week, but that doesn’t mean it rankles him any less when you say, “Nothing I can’t handle. Toge was taking it easy on me.”

You don’t know the half of it.

“C’mon,” you tell him. “Panda says you’re up.”

—

Forty minutes later, breathless, aching and bruised all over, Yuuta shuffles with you and the others back to the dormitories to shower before eating when a familiar head of white hair pops into view.

“Yuuu-taa,” Gojo greets in a sing-song voice, altogether too happy for the group of exhausted, hungry students glaring back at him. “A word?”

Not remotely a request, considering he’s got an arm looped over Yuuta’s shoulders, steering him away from the rest of the group before he can get so much as a word out.

Leading him into an empty classroom well away from the dormitories, Gojo props himself up against one of the desks, leaving Yuuta to stand awkwardly in front of him, trying his best not to feel like a misbehaving child about to be lectured.

When he speaks, there’s no trace of levity left to soften the blow. “What happened?”

Gojo isn’t talking about the training session outside.

Yuuta swallows, stiffening. “It doesn’t matter, does it? You read the report. As long as she’s with me, Rika and I–”

“So you expect the higher ups to send you along on every mission she’s assigned?”

His cheeks flush again, this time with indignation. “They can’t send her alone! She’s not– she… ” Isn’t strong enough.

At his floundering, Gojo lets out a heavy, over-dramatic sigh, as if the weight of the world rests on his shoulders alone. “Yuuta, you’re a special grade. Do you really think they’ll let you play babysitter just because you have a crush?”

His heart squeezes, a thick lump lodging itself in his throat. He doesn’t deny it, there’s no point. Blindfolded or not, Gojo sees everything.

Not that his Sensei has room to talk about crushes.

“I don’t care, I’ll go anyway! I’m not letting her get hurt.”

“Special grade or not, you won’t be able to stop it,” Gojo tells him, a strange sort of smile teasing at his lips. “They’ll smell her coming a mile away, that inexperience, overconfidence. Such a weak, tasty little sorcerer. Easy pickings. She’ll draw them in like flies to honey, one after another, until there’s too many to fight all at once – that’s what happened last time, didn’t it? You lost focus.”

Yuuta stills entirely.

Gojo tugs at the bandages over his eyes, revealing one brilliant, blue iris. “She dies. That’s the only way this goes. You understand that, don’t you?”

—

It kills Yuuta that Gojo turns out to be right.

The body lying on the cold, metal table can barely be called that. Half a torso and a leg. That’s all he got back after getting rid of the curse.

“Okkotsu,” Ieiri’s calm voice breaks through his reverie, and he glances up to find her tired eyes boring into him from across the room. If he didn’t know better, he’d almost think she looked concerned.

“‘m fine,” he mumbles, letting his head tilt back to fall against the cool tiles. “I’m not the one who died.”

Ieiri opens her mouth, only to close it a moment later. “Of course.”

And so it goes. Inumaki, Panda and Maki hover, quiet and subdued. No one knows what to say, but none of them are surprised, he can tell that much through the thick, strained silence.

Death is pretty much a constant for them. Jujutsu sorcerers don’t tend to lead long, happy lives, but this isn’t just losing a classmate seven days out from graduation. A pang squeezes at his chest and he doesn’t bother holding back a heavy exhale.

“I’m tired. I’ll… catch you guys later, I guess.”

Yuuta doesn’t wait for an acknowledgement, turning on his heel and leaving them there outside the gym, staring uselessly after him.

But he doesn’t head back to his room. There’s nothing for him there.

No, Yuuta walks for a long, long while. Back to civilisation, to the city teeming with people and curses, each step more surefooted, eager than the last.

By the time he reaches the apartment, he’s pounding the pavement, and takes the stairs two at a time. His hand shakes as he slots the key into the first lock and twists, then the second, his heart’s halfway to his throat when he pushes it open, heading straight for the bedroom–

The knot in his chest loosens, a relieved sigh escaping him at the sight of you, spread out in his sheets in nothing but your underwear, fast asleep. Safe, where he left you.

It takes him no time at all to toe out of his sneakers, shed his jacket and climb up onto the bed next to you, mindful not to jostle you too much, not to disturb the thick metal links coiled loosely at the bottom of the mattress. Your eyes are still puffy, cheeks wet with the sheen of tears when his fingertips glide over them, intent on smoothing your hair back from your face.

Poor thing, you must’ve tired yourself out.

Yuuta has every intention of letting you sleep for a little while longer yet – he’d meant what he’d said to Maki and the others, there’s a bone tired weariness that’s been clinging to him since he dragged himself back to campus that morning, and it’s only now, here, lying next to you that he feels it start to leach away, like poison syphoned off.

A small, soft smile tugs at his lips.

Perfect, beautiful girl.

Gojo was right. You had to die. There aren’t enough sorcerers to deal with the increased curses plaguing the city. Weak or not, they would’ve kept sending you out, and he wouldn’t always be able to guarantee that he’d be there to protect you.

You had to die so they’d leave you alone. So that he could keep you safe.

Nestling closer, he thumbs at the curve of your cheekbone again and brushes a kiss against your lips, doing his best to ignore the hot pulse of want that burns through his blood, coiling tightly in his guts.

There’ll be plenty of time for that later. For now he just wants to lie here with you, safe and tucked away. Together.

It’s better this way. You’ll see.

#yandere jjk #yandere okkotsu yuuta #yandere okkotsu yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta x reader #yandere yuuta #yandere jjk x reader #tw: dubcon #etched in red

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joelmillersdumbslut · 10 months

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Only bought this dress so you could take it off (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

summary: You spend your workdays pining over your favorite customer, Joel Miller, until he finally asks you out on a date. (no outbreak au. no use of y/n)

rating: 18+ explicit (minors do NOT interact)

warnings: age gap (reader is in early 20's, joel is early 40's), dirty talk, hand kink, pet names, reader is inexperienced, oral sex (f! and m! receiving), fingering, handjob, p in v sex, a little fluff at the end, basically smut with the tiniest bit of plot

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i just really wanted to write a smutty oneshot! hope you enjoy it ♡

ao3 link

Normally, when customers hit on you, you’re quick to shut them down.

“No, thanks, I have a boyfriend.”

“Sorry, I have night classes.”

“My parents won’t let me date until I’m 35.”

Or straight up, “No.”

But, when Joel Miller first walked into the coffee shop you work at, you couldn’t take your eyes off him. You had just finished steaming milk for a latte when your coworker rang him up at the register. You fumbled with the steel pitcher as Joel shot a glance your way, his brown eyes burrowing into you. The frothy milk burned the back of your hand, but it didn’t even compare to the burning you felt deep inside your abdomen.

For the next few weeks, Joel would chat you up at the pickup counter while you poured his coffee. He takes it black. No milk, no sugar, no bullshit. He’d ask you questions about the beans. Where they’re grown, how do you get them, what setting you grind them at for the best taste. All you could think about was the way his lips curled into a small smile after the first sip. Or how his fingers brushed against yours as you handed him his coffee. It felt wrong, sometimes immoral, to be so smitten with a man old enough to be your father. You couldn’t help but get doe-eyed every time he walked in through the door. Even your coworkers started teasing you, telling you Joel came in on your day off and asked for you. You’d brush it off and pretend it didn’t happen, but you secretly hoped that it did. You were dying to get to know him better, or at least find out more than just how he takes his coffee.

So, when he came in on a dreary Monday, looking a little pale and feverish, you asked him what was going on. He exhaled sharply through his nose as you let the coffee cascade from the brewer into the paper cup. But, his words were floundering in the sea of coffee shop noises and you couldn’t hear him well. You beckoned him to lean across the counter, cupping your ear. When his mouth grazed against your lobe, your belly ignited once again when you heard the words, “What I’m tryin’ to say is… would you wanna go out on a date with me?”

—

You’d never put out on the first date before. At least not until now. Joel Miller took you to see a movie, but you can’t remember what it was about. Probably because he had a firm grip on your thigh the entire time. His fingers slowly dragging their way up your leg as the movie played on the big screen. It’s a good thing you picked seats in the very back row where no one could see you leaning over to kiss him. It took him by surprise, but he welcomed it nonetheless. You placed your hand on his cheek, turning him towards you as you gently brushed your lips against his. He returned the favor, and soon enough his tongue was poking through your lips to meet your own. Just as you were about to reach for his belt buckle, the overhead lights came on and you both jolted back. You smoothing out your dress, Joel hiding the front of his jeans with a popcorn bucket. He held your hand all the way to the car, and even opened the door for you.

—

It was hard to resist a gentleman like Joel Miller. He walked you to your apartment door, lingering in the hallway while you pulled a set of keys out of your purse. He was about to bid you a good night, when something possessed you to mention, “You know, my roommate’s working the night shift. If you wanna come in.”

A slow smile creeped up on his face, “Whaddya have in mind?”

You could feel your cheeks burn, your eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m not that kind of girl,” your whisper almost inaudible, “I mean. Maybe I am. But, just for you. Because… I like you.”

Joel lifted your chin, his gaze meeting yours. “I like you too.”

Then he gestured towards the door, “I’ll come in. Stay a while.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you opened the door and his hand rested on the small of your back.

—

Joel Miller is hard to resist. Especially with the way his tongue grazed the inside of your thighs.

You led him to your room, locking the door behind you. A switch flipped, his eyes hungry, his pants tightening around his thighs. You stood together in your dimly lit bedroom, tongues colliding, hands groping in places you’d never let a stranger go before. It wasn’t long before you pulled away abruptly.

“I have to tell you something first,” you looked around nervously, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Joel’s expression softened, sitting down next to you, pulling your hand into his lap.

“I know it may not seem like it. But, I don’t really have much experience. So, you’ll have to… go slow with me. Maybe even teach me how to do certain things, I guess,” you admitted, absentmindedly picking at a loose thread on your dress hem with your free hand.

Joel brushed your hair out of your face, kissing your shoulder, and then your neck. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

A beat. Then he asked, “Have you… done it before?”

You could feel your face turn flush again as you looked at his hand holding yours. It’s so… huge. Calloused. You wondered if he’s a construction worker or some kind of laborer. You couldn’t remember if he’s ever mentioned his occupation. Then you wondered what it would be like to have those fingers inside you. Sliding in and out as he massages your favorite spot. You might soon find out.

You shook those thoughts from the forefront of your mind to answer his question, “I have. But, just a few times. I never really got anything out of it.”

Your words came with a sheepish inflection. But, Joel didn’t make you feel inadequate or insecure. Instead, he gently held your face, those rough hands against your soft skin.

“I’ll show you,” is all he said.

—

Joel Miller clouded your mind as you pulled your dress over your head, suddenly feeling embarrassed that today of all days you had chosen not to wear a bra. You were exposing your breasts to this man you hardly knew. A man old enough to have raised you. But, Joel didn’t seem to mind. He palmed his bulge through his jeans, watching you undress.

“Do you… Want me to take these off?” you asked, thumbing the waistband of your underwear.

He stepped closer to you, still touching himself through his clothes. “Not now. I’ll tell you when to take ‘em off,” he grunted. “Get on the bed.”

Fire began to burn inside your lower stomach. Maybe you were overthinking this, but Joel was definitely not like the guy you’d been with before. And you realized it was turning you on, Joel being so much older and taking control over you. What could you do to keep him that way? Your answer came swiftly, as you climbed onto the bed and laid down for him. All you needed to do was be obedient.

“What should I do now?” you asked, your breath faltering as he began taking off his pants.

A smirk danced across Joel’s face as he ignored your question, “You like watchin’ me?”

“Yes,” you answered quietly, your core burning hotter than a thousand suns.

After stripping down to his boxers, Joel laid down next to you, his hand firmly planted on your thigh.

“You thinkin’ ‘bout me earlier? At the movie theater?”

“Yes,” you began to melt, wondering if it was possible to explode from his touch alone.

“Good girl,” he cooed, his hand moving towards your underwear. He stopped at the fabric, his hand rubbing the outside. Your breath hitched and he chuckled. His fingers dipped inside, rubbing your clit. Then sliding down to your entrance. You gasped for air as he pulled away. It had been so long since you’d been touched like that, you nearly forgot what it felt like. In fact, it almost felt like nothing you’d ever felt before. You decided to allow this brand-new feeling to wash over you, as Joel nipped at your neck, leaving marks for the world to see.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured. “That all for me?”

“Yes, Joel,” you whispered.

The smirk returned to his face as he crawled down the bed, “Take those off.”

You instantly did as you were told. An excitement brewed inside you, curious to see where this would go. Joel spread your legs apart, a whimper involuntarily leaving your throat as he examined you. He smiled again, shaking his head slightly.

“So pretty,” he grinned, looking up at you. “Anyone ever eat your pussy?”

“N-no. My ex wouldn’t do that,” you explained, suddenly ashamed by your lack of experience. That didn’t seem to deter the older man though. If anything, it fueled his ego even more.

“Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll make you feel better than that kid ever did.”

—

And you soon learned Joel Miller kept his word.

He began licking you gently, starting at your clit. It took you by surprise, how something you’ve never experienced could feel so fucking good. His tongue shifted up and down, making you moan. Instinctively, you covered your mouth so your neighbors, or even worse, your soon-to-arrive-home roommate, wouldn’t be able to hear you, but Joel reached up to pull your arm away.

“I want everyone in this building to hear you, baby.” He started sucking on your clit, making you whimper even louder. “That’s it, make some noise for me.”

He picked up the pace, your body tensing up, the pleasure coursing through your veins. You began to wonder if you could cum simply from his mouth alone, but soon his fingertips were tracing your hole.

“Please tell me your boyfriend at least fingered you,” Joel teased, dipping inside of you gingerly. You wanted him so badly, but you forgot how to use your words. This seemed to amuse Joel, as he continued to trace the outline with his fingertips.

“Yes,” you stifled another moan, “B-but, he never got me off.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that with me, sweetheart, I’m gonna make you cum as hard and as often as I can,” Joel slowly inserted a finger, making you inhale deeply. “That feel okay? Need at least two, maybe three to get you ready for me.”

Hard? Often? Three fingers?! Before you could even begin to process his arrogance, Joel quickly worked his magic, curling his finger inside you. He easily added another one for good measure, your vision going blurry from the satisfaction you were receiving.

“Fuck,” you exclaimed, feeling the wave rising up inside you immediately. You realized it wasn’t arrogance after all. He truly knew what he was doing to you. And he was doing it well. “Joel, I-I think you’re gonna make me cum already.”

“That’s okay, baby, cum all over me,” he murmured and resumed sucking on your clit. And soon enough, your hips convulsed, legs shaking as Joel rode the high with you. He slowed down as you returned to Earth, glancing up at you with a twinkle in his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you nervously blurted out, “I don’t usually get off that fast.”

His hand reached for yours as he repositioned himself on the mattress, kneeling at your side. “No need to apologize, darlin’. Besides, you’re so pretty when you cum.” He leaned down to kiss you lightly, and you realized his boxers were still on. His cock straining against the fabric. You looked up at him expectantly, biting your lip.

“Alright, sweetheart. Your turn to make me feel good now,” he brought your hand to his waistband. “Take these off,” he growled, the hunger returning to his brown eyes.

You quickly got to work, helping Joel remove what little was left of his clothing. The sight of his cock made your eyes widen. You could feel the wetness dripping down your thighs at the mere thought of what it’d feel like to have him pumping inside you.

You don’t have to imagine that for long though, as Joel’s southern drawl snapped you back to reality. “Touch me,” he ordered, on his knees again next to you. “Show me what you can do.”

Your hand wrapped around his cock. Starting at the base, you moved upward slowly. You kept glancing at Joel to gauge his enjoyment, or worse, any potential displeasure. But, you didn’t need to worry about that. The room was filled with his grunts and moans. You wanted to impress him, so as your hand travelled back up again and your thumb grazed his slit, gathering precum, making the slide back down his shaft even easier.

“Think you were lyin’ to me, darlin’. You know exactly what you’re doin’,” Joel groaned, a sly smile spreading across his face. “Why don’t you try takin’ me in your mouth?”

A fire roared deep within your belly again as you sat up a little straighter. You leaned over with your mouth agape, beginning to suck the tip of his cock. Joel’s whimper startled you, but the sounds of pleasure encouraged you to take more of him. Or as much as you could. He was bigger than you had imagined. Spit dribbled down your chin as Joel reached the back of your throat. You peered up at him as he took a handful of your hair, guiding you as he gently fucked your mouth.

“You look so pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock,” he sighed, “Are you ready for me, baby?”

You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. It made Joel chuckle as he pushed you back onto the bed, spreading your legs far apart. Holding his cock, he lined up to your entrance, stroking the tip up and down against your pussy. A guttural moan erupted from inside you at the feeling. The primal feeling of needing him inside you now.

“This might hurt,” he whispered, “But, I know you can take my cock.”

His words rang through your ears, making you lightheaded and dripping wet. You nodded slowly and the fire burned even brighter, your eyes meeting his.

Joel stroked himself again as he propped your legs up, “Gonna go nice and slow for you. Just relax and let me make you feel good.”

His fingers dipped inside you again as his other hand wrapped around his cock. He rubbed against your sweet spot, the pressure beginning to build again already.

“Tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you whispered.

—

You couldn’t believe it. After weeks of pining and longing for your favorite customer, Joel Miller, he was finally inside you.

It hurt at first, your body could only manage to take the tip. Guess he was right about needing three fingers. You initially cried out at the strange mix of pleasure and pain. Joel was quick to kiss you, holding you tenderly until you were ready to try again. The second time was the charm. He penetrated you slowly as he grabbed your hand. He placed it over your clit, helping you move in small circles. The bliss radiated throughout your body as Joel continued to enter you until his length went as far as it could go without hurting you any more.

“Knew you could take my cock,” he purred, “Good girl.”

He pumped slowly and deeply, managing to be careful enough not to hit any areas that might hurt you again. “This good, baby? Wanna hear you.”

Joel could hear you alright. You kept rubbing your clit and with each thrust, he hit your G-spot. It was the perfect combination, something you didn’t know could possibly exist. You just knew your sheets were going to be soaked, if they weren’t already.

“If you keep doing this, I’m gonna cum again,” the whine slipped off your lips.

He chuckled, his pace quickening. “Good. Need to get you there a couple more times before it’s my turn. Cum for me.”

And the pressure inside you released and you exploded all over his cock, your cum streaming down the insides of your thighs.

Joel laughed, slowing down to fix your hair. “How was that, baby?”

Your lips quivered as you nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. The sex with your ex-boyfriend completely paled in comparison to this session with Joel. You were starting to hope maybe it could become a regular thing. Maybe Joel could keep showing you the nooks and crannies you didn’t know existed within your body.

Before you had the chance to ask, Joel pulled you up into a sitting position, laying next to you on his back.

“Ever ride before? Think you’ll like it,” he winked, gesturing for you to get on top of him.

You crawled onto his lap, his cock swaying before you. You stared down at him, your legs on either side of his hips, still shaking from your last orgasm.

“Don’t get shy on me now, sweetheart. You need my help?”

You nodded, feeling a little self-conscious. Despite being prone, Joel lifted you up, guiding his cock back inside you. Your eyes widened as it hit new places you had never discovered before. You began to resent your ex a little for being a shitty lover. But, Joel pulled you back into the real world with his honeyed words.

“You’re the one in control, baby. Move the way that feels good,” he encouraged you, setting his hands on your hips.

You began to experiment, rolling your body back and forth slowly. You quickly found a rhythm that worked best for both of you, your moans bouncing off Joel’s sighs. His hand moved forward, thumbing your clit while you rocked your hips. You could feel another orgasm building inside your core, but you slowed down in an attempt to last longer. Joel, of course, noticed.

“You can cum, baby, I don’t mind.”

“But-“

“But, what?”

“I wanna cum with you.”

His eyes sparkled, and he started rubbing your clit faster.

“Wanna cum with me? Say it.”

“I wanna cum with you,” you repeated, tears welling at the corners of your eyes, the stimulation becoming overpowering.

“Say it again, darlin’.”

You couldn’t take it anymore, you were so desperate to feel your release.

“I wanna cum with you.”

And as soon as your words hit the air, your orgasm toppled over you, screams erupting from your throat. Joel followed suit, muttering incoherent nonsense, but the few words you could catch amidst the chaos were, “good girl.” Your hands rested on the headboard as you leaned over Joel, panting like you just finished a marathon. Well, you supposed you kind of did. Glancing at the clock, it had been three hours since you brought him back to your room. In the past, it was usually three minutes.

You lowered yourself back onto the bed, curling up in the crook of Joel’s arm. His scruff brushed against your cheek as he kissed you.

“How was that, baby? You learn anything?”

You giggled, still mesmerized by his touch. And his cock. “I was hoping maybe you could teach me more,” you admitted, taking his hand in yours.

Joel chuckled before kissing you again. “I’ll teach you everything, baby.”

—

#joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us #pedro pascal characters #tlou

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sanji-piss-hell · 6 months

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ZOSAN FIC REC

Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best. What I consider a good fic: - Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus) - Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story. - Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics) - The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here) - Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling. With that out of the way here's the list!! Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting: Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again. Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one: Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood

“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.

Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”

“Not that, your fucking feet!”

The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”

Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.

This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.

come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee

The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.

Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.

I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew. I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!

Part Timer By 8ball Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together. Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways. I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic. Onto the rated R Grand Buffet by asyndese Drunk fic!! If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it. I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough. Horrors not yet known by Trixree

Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.

In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.

I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too) Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj

Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.

Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.

I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn. Nature of things by stark_black Tw: Sex work and prostitutes When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit. I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane. Coregasm by Yakarmi

Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.

-----

“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”

Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.

“Sometimes.”

Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.

Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good. Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have

Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi

Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.

The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.

AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All

Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :( And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!

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ghost-bxrd · 2 months

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I LOVE the zombie Jason prompt oh my god. I'm imagining how angsty the reunions will be at first when they think they've run into him as a regular zombie... before he turns around and starts lecturing them for not shooting him LOL

Oh dang yeah that’s totally gonna be an interesting moment lmaoooo

Now imagine tho: Jason has zombie privileges. He can now walk amongst the dead without fear of getting bitten again. The other zombies don’t clock him as something alive.

So for a while Jason keeps his distance, watches his family flounder about… and then one of them gets swarmed and he has that “goddammit” moment where he looks at the camera like he’s in the office before jumping to the rescue.

(And the others already saw him around on supply runs, walking with the horde (“I had to blend in ok!?”) and that was heartbreaking enough, because they STILL couldn’t bear to take the shot)

So when Jason shoulders himself to the front and grabs the batfam member that was about to become a nice snack— they’re just happy they get to see him again one last time. Even if they think Jason is about to tear into them.

And he does tear into them. With words. Because BOY does Jason have some things to say about that level of idiocy.

And while there’s a teary reunion happening with Jason and that batfamily member of choice, the others only caught glimpses of what they presume is zombie Jason reaching their poor child/sibling and couldn’t bear to keep looking. Thus missing the entire not-actually-becoming-a-snack-for-Jay thing.

….

Dang it. Don’t tempt me into writing this.

#zombie jason #zombie au #brainstorming #ghost talks #jason todd #batfamily #dick grayson #batfam #bruce wayne #robin #red hood #tim drake #batman #Damian wayne #Stephanie brown #Duke Thomas #alfred pennyworth #batdad

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mothfables · 7 months

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Blushing Bunnies and Rings

A gift fic for @breannasfluff! I’ve had this scene in mind for literal *months* now, and finally decided to write it down <3 I hope you enjoy!!

“You know what’s nice about you being home?” Ravio asks, leaning on the counter with his chin propped in his hand. His Mr. Hero and his brothers have come to visit again. The Chain, as they call themselves, have spread through the house while Link- Legend, Ravio reminds himself- has decided to sort through and swap out some of his items.

Right now, he’s going through one of his many ring boxes. Box in hand, he sweeps distractedly across the room, barely registering Ravio’s question. “What’s that, Ravi?” he calls back, only partly paying attention.

Ravio grins, though the other boy can’t see it. Wind, on the opposite side of the room, can, and quickly comes to the conclusion that something potentially amusing is about to happen. His eyes flick between Legend, still nose-deep in his ring box, and the merchant, whose eyes are trained directly on his brother. Rupee-green shines mischievously.

“I get to look at you.”

The statement takes a moment to register. Legend pauses, blinking, before fully realizing what he heard. Then the box is clattering out of his hands, rings spilling out across the floor as his face flushes bright red.

Wind is in a prime position to watch as Legend splutters, his hands flailing as he tries - and fails - to come up with a response. He sees Ravio’s grin grow to a smug smirk as his partner continues to flounder, the red spreading to the tips of his ears and down his neck. A snicker makes it’s way out of his mouth and he slaps a hand over it.

The other heroes make an appearance then, drawn by the noise. They’re treated to the sight of a scarlet Hero of Legend, a smirking merchant, and a Sailor whose own face is starting to match the Veteran’s with how hard he’s struggling to hold back laughter.

“Y-you- I- you- Whuh-”

Wind can’t help it anymore- he lets out a loud ‘HA!’ before doubling over, clutching his ribs and cackling. Warriors snickers. Twilight snorts before catching himself and turning away, but everyone can see his shoulders shaking.

Ravio’s smirk only grows. From here, he can’t see Legend’s face but he does have the privilege of watching his partner’s ears flickering madly as they grow progressively more red with each passing second.

After another minute of flustered flailing, Legend abruptly turns and marches stiff-legged to the couch, where he collapses face-first and lets out a muffled scream.

The other heroes only laugh harder.

Ravio chuckles for a few moments before he pushes himself off the counter and moves to pick up the scattered rings. To his pleasant surprise, Wind joins him, shaking off the last of his laughing fit with a bright grin.

“Thank you, dear,” he murmurs, appreciative. The young hero beams, reaching for the box and dropping a handful of rings inside. Between the two of them it’s short work, and before long Ravio is snapping the lid closed and standing to put it on the counter. He’ll sort them properly later.

Then he turns and makes his way to the couch where his hero is still lying facedown. He bends to press a kiss to ruffled strawberry-blonde locks, cooing at the whine that elicits. Legend doesn’t look up at him; instead he tries to burrow further into the cushions. The action only makes Ravio chuckle, and cooling ears burn red again as the merchant pets his hair.

“Oh, bunny. I can’t have embarrassed you that much, can I?”

Behind him, Ravio hears the other heroes begin to make their way out of the room now that the fun is over, some of them still laughing. One of them- the Captain, he thinks- makes a strangled wheezing sound. He pays them no mind, his attention solely on the hero before him. The hero who has yet to move from where he’s apparently trying to become one with the couch.

The sight makes Ravio laugh again and he muffles the sound with a sleeve. Link- Legend has had enough teasing for the day, no need to add to it. He pats his head a final time before straightening and moving towards the doorway. Mr. Hero will resurface when he’s ready.

In the meantime, he should probably go warn the Chain off of teasing him too badly, since he knows they’ll do it anyway. ‘Brothers,’ he thinks with a smile.

#moth’s tales #linked universe #lu legend #lu ravio #fanfiction #linked universe fanfiction #lu wind #not sure how i feel about the title but i couldn’t come up with anything better so :/#again inspired by a steven universe scene <3 #i just wanted to write some flustered legend #and ravio is the culprit because of course he is #legend x ravio #gift fic #queerplatonic relationship #qpr legend x ravio #raviolink #ravioli ship

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dakogutin · 7 months

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@hpkinktober alt3 prompt: moresome (+voyeurism which was day14) im so sad i missed the actual day of that prompt i just happened to have had the toughest exam that day hhh

Lily was the one to bring it up.

“Do you miss Sirius?”

James laughs, surprised and a little bit confused. He sets the Daily Prophet down his lap in favour of meeting her gaze across the breakfast table. “Maybe? I don’t know, I mean we��ve just had dinner with him and Moony the other day. Why? Do you?”

“It’s just… I know how close you two were.”

“We still are,” James trails off.

Their past relationship had been one of James’ first confessions when he and Lily became an official couple, and that was way back in their Hogwarts days. The memory of the conversation was ingrained in James’ mind.

She had nodded that time, eyes deep in thought, then shrugged. “I knew something was going on between you two.”

That made him fall in love with her even more. He was right. She knew.

“You don’t mind?”

She placed a kiss on his hanging lips. “Why should I?”

“He’s already dating Remus, you know.”

“Do you want me to be mad?” she chuckled.

And James thought she was cheating with that question because maybe he did, maybe he wanted her to find something wrong with whatever he and Sirius had. It was far from something normal teenagers would do; swap boyfriends– or, well, Sirius wasn’t a boyfriend. Remus was definitely Sirius’ boyfriend. James is… not.

But the thing is, he never got to answer because Lily was running her nimble fingers all over his hair, her nails were scraping his scalp, tugging ever so softly, and she was straddling his lap. It’s more than enough to have all his thoughts fly out the window.

Since then he and Sirius stopped seeing each other that way without properly saying goodbye, just silently acknowledging that it had passed, that they’re both equally devoted to only their respective partners.

It was never brought up again. Until now, that is.

Oh.

James sits up straighter, opens and closes his mouth, unsure what or how to say it. Is she really going for that conversation? He clears his throat. “You mean…?”

“Yes, James," she says, wryly, "I mean that.”

“But it’s been so long! Why would you think–”

“Exactly why I ask.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and leans forward, a posture she reserves for when she really means business. But her eyes are soft as she reaches for his hands. “Do you miss him? You know you can be honest with me.”

James continues to flounder with his words. “I don’t want to… Is this a test?”

Lily chuckles and shakes her head. “I’m not going to take it that way, despite what you apparently think.”

A fleeting rush of adoration washes over him of how Lily knows him too well; how he doesn’t need to finish his sentences with her. And then he does think of Sirius. How he’d been the first— and only one— to do that in James’ life, to know him right down to his core. Lily’s right. She’s not going to take it that way. She knows what went down between him and Sirius, and from her response back then to her intrigue at present, there’s no room for jealousy.

So he answers her honestly. “I do.”

(read on ao3)

#it's that time again where i rise from the ashes of writer's block with *pwp* lmao #jily+wolfstar!!!#wolfstar #wolfstarbucks #jilypad #wolfstar smut #jily #prongsfoot #prongsfoot smut #hp kinktober 2023

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dragonnarrative-writes · 21 days

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GhostGaz Week - 2nd chances // road trip

This one is more of a dialogue based character study than anything else, I think. I felt unhinged writing it even though very little happens.

@ghostgazweek

CW: use of cigarettes, littering, discussions of gender and sexuality, past dating experiences, brief reference to simon riley's terrible awful service experiences

Gaz doesn’t hate land transport, but he’d much rather be on a helicopter than in this silent car with Ghost right now. He’s viciously bored. If it was Price, he’d know how to carry a conversation. But fresh off his third milk run with Ghost, he’s floundering. He checks the clock and groans. There’s another hour before they hit the tarmac and head home.

Desperation for something to talk about makes him blurt, “You ever been in love?”

Ghost doesn’t give much indication that he’s heard, eyes never leaving the road, hand relaxed on the top of the steering wheel. Sometimes Gaz wishes he was a photographer. The Ghost in the driver’s seat would make a great campaign poster. He’s bulky with all his gear. Solid. The picture of a man. This is the guy protecting the innocent by risking himself. A skull faced badass.

“Take the wheel,” Ghost says.

Used to the routine by now, Gaz leans over the arm rest to hold the car steady while Ghost pulls pulls a cigarette from a pack and lights it. But where he usually only lifts his balaclava over the bridge of his nose, he reaches up to take the whole thing off. It’s the work of a moment for him to light the cigarette and open the window. Gaz finds himself looking between the empty road and Ghost’s scarred jaw and the shape of his nose.

“Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Gaz says, settling back into his seat. He tries not to stare, but it’s hard. Without the mask, Ghost is still the picture of a man. Just... different.

“Why’d you ask?”

“Huh?”

Ghost tilts his head to make brief eye contact, then looks back at the road. “Why’d you ask if I’ve ever been in love?”

Oh. “Just… curious, I guess,” Gaz flounders. “I feel like we should know each other better by now.”

The silence is near painful as Ghost takes a drag from his cigarette, and then another. Gaz can’t decide what’s worse - if he’s being ignored or if Ghost is actively offended. He’s about to apologize when he gets an answer.

“Been in love a few times. Puppy love 'fore I joined up, told myself I woulda proposed to ‘er if things were different, but probably not. Was all over the place.” He takes another drag, exhales as he talks. “Had a crush on another private in basic, gave it a go when we graduated. Dated in secret for about a year before I broke things off. Hurt a bit but tha’s a part of it all, yeah?”

“Why’d you break up?”

“Didn’t like being his secret,” Ghost says around another puff of smoke. “He didn’t like my daddy issues.”

Gaz feels his eyebrows crawl up beneath is cap. “Didn’t know you liked men.”

That makes Ghost - Simon? - laugh. “Yeah, well, now we know each other better, I guess.”

Gaz's ears burn a bit. Into the silence, he offers, “Me too. I mean… I’m… not strictly heterosexual…?”

“You askin’ me?” the man snorts a laugh. “’ve seen your beauty serums, Gaz. I know you ain’t straight. Best egg in the carton.”

Gaz scrunches his nose, he can't help it. “What does that even mean?”

Ghost grins that grin. The one that makes Price shoot his whiskey. “You ever have dreams where you’re a girl?”

“What?” Gaz blanches. Five years ago, he’d have answered, doesn’t everybody? But he’s learned his lesson since then. “No.”

Ghost’s grin doesn’t falter. “I do.”

“Bullshit,” Gaz says, because what? What even is this conversation?

“Third love of my life made me go to therapy,” Ghost continues, like he didn’t just rock Gaz’s world on its axis. “Learned a lot. Admittedly before the Ghost thing. Broke up because the therapy was working. And then all the Ghost shit happened.”

“Of course.” What else is there to say?

“Flirted with someone a couple times in the last six months, but either I’ve been too subtle or they’re not interested.”

Gaz gropes around for an appropriate response because I've only ever seen you stare silently at people feels a bit rude. “Maybe it’s the mask? You’re hard to read.”

“Maybe so,” is the answer he gets. “What about you? Ever been in love, Garrick?”

The question shouldn’t startle him, but it does. He stumbles over his answer. “I dunno. Maybe. Had crushes when I was kid. Dated in sixth form, but I don’t know if that counts.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I was a kid, yeah? Everything feels intense when you’re young,” Gaz shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s love.”

Ghost is quiet for a moment, nodding to himself. Finally he says, “M’ therapist says that just because it’s a kid that feels it don't make the feelings less valid. If anything, feelings are more intense for kids. Puppy love is still love.”

The realization that Ghost is a romantic snaps into place. He sits with that for a beat before saying, “Well, she cheated on me with my mate, so that ended. Took a long time for me to get over that one.”

“That’s shite,” Ghost mumbles. “You datin’ now?”

“Not much time for a civilian relationship,” Gaz admits with a shrug. “And I’m not… out on base. I’m not not, just… I don’t really care to have people in my business.”

“Fair,” Ghost answers. He flicks his cigarette out the window. “Well, if you ever do think about dating on base, keep me in mind.”

Gaz might pull something in his neck, he snaps to look at Ghost so fast. “Huh?”

Ghost just laughs.

#GhostGazWeek #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #gaz appreciation nation #manic pixie dream ghost #ghostgaz #none of these stories this week have been linked to each other #i just headcannon simon and kyle as queer in so many ways #and simon has the tism rizz that means intentional flirting is very difficult for him #he's been flirting with kyle since they met #except the “flirting” is standing in the same room no talking no eye contact just vibes #“hold the wheel while i grab a smoke” is practically a proposition to him #he took off his mask because in his head they're already in a polycule with price and roach #obviously being in a polycule and “dating” are not the same in his head but they're related #price does not know about this polycule yet but he will #roach was the one who defined the terms queerplatonic and polycule to simon #obviously simon would like for things to be less platonic

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truths33k3r4 · 2 months

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CHAPTER 25 - Grieving Cadence

The room burst with chaotic energy in a matter of milliseconds as Leo ran into the dojo to grab his twin katanas. For a normal person, such a stressful situation would leave the barer with a scrambled mind, floundering through the room and tripping over themselves as they try to process what just happened.

But Leo has never been normal. His eyes remained focused as his feet ran with purpose and will. His expression had gone into full ‘ Leader Mode ‘, leaving behind any traces of ‘ teenager ‘. His ‘oldest brother’ side still shone brightly, but it mirrored the image of a stoplight; Flashing and pulsing with warnings of danger, and no warmth in its vibrant hue.

When Leo sprinted back into the Living Room, Mikey could see the panic shrinking his pupils. The eldest was still very much aware of his surroundings, and was even still forcing a steady heartbeat. But his eyes gave away the facade the leader always carried.

Without thinking, Mikey flung the afghan off his legs and pushed himself off the couch, dropping the bag of frozen broccoli to the floor with a crunch.

He made it about two steps before the adrenaline rushing through his body slightly dissipated, allowing a tightening pressure coiling around his right ankle like a boa constrictor squeezing its prey. With a piercing screech, the youngest fell onto the floor holding his leg tightly to his chest.

Well…. That was stupid. He mentally groaned.

“ MICHELANGELO HANTEN! “ Yelled the leader, whom was quickly rushing up to the side of his once again fallen brother.

Ok…. Now I’m dead.

Leo grabbed Mikey’s shoulders and raised him up off the floor, then slid his arm around the youngest’s waist while leading him back to the couch.

“ Mikey I don’t have time for this- “ the leader rushed, nearly dropping Mikey haphazardly onto the cushions, “Just… Just stay here- I’ll be back as soon as I can- “

“ - No way, dude! You are not leavin’ me here like some cripple- I’m coming with. They’re my brothers too! “

To enforce his statement, Mikey pulled off the afghan Leo just placed back on his legs, and began sliding off the cushions again. This action was met with a silent but DEADLY whack from his brother’s calloused hand to Mikey’s right knee.

“ No, Mikey. “ The oldest solemnly stated as the youngest groaned from the impact, “ You are staying HERE. “

After the brotherly-inflicted pain faded in his knee, Mikey raised his head in defiance at the leader.

“ I’m.. coming.. You can’t stop me, Leo. “ Mikey tried very hard to sound as tough as he could, while still also struggling under the intensifying ache in his ankle. It didn’t come out as a pathetic squeak, so he’ll call it a win in his book.

The eldest’s eyes sparked as a war was fought between feelings of annoyance and respect for his little brother. Mikey watched as Leo sank deep into thought, probably trying to think of a plan to get Mikey off his back so he could go search for their missing brothers.

Leo growled as he reached for the built in power panel and clicked one of its many buttons, finally ending the horrible cacophony of the panic alarm.

“ - I can’t THINK with all this noise.. “ Leo grumbled as he rubbed his fingers into his temples.

As the leader tried to make a plan, Mikey was also attempting to figure a solution to his problem.

How bad does it REALLY hurt-

He tried to wiggle his foot, but abruptly stopped the motion as the ache returned with a vengeance. He was VERY lucky that the only noise that escaped him was a low rumbly hum. Had he shouted, groaned, or yelped again, Leo would have had him in his arms and off to bed in a second.

Alright, maybe I shouldn’t walk just yet… OW.

Mikey let out his own quiet growl as he could hear the grandfather clock tick away in Sensei’s Study.

They were running out of time.

The panic button carried a graven heaviness to it. One of the reasons the alarm’s song was so frightening to Leo and him was the fact that they’d never heard it before. Don had only just installed it on the day that Master Splinter finally allowed the brothers to go to the surface on their own. That was like two weeks ago.

Mikey slowly turned to look at his leader.

Leo’s expression finally revealed the torment running rampant through his mind, as he grew more and more tense with each failed phone call to his lost brothers. Mikey could hear the annoyed sound of Raph’s voice as his message played again and again in Leo’s ear.

‘ “ How does this stupid thing work…….what- what do you mean it’s already recording?! GRRRR DON SHOW ME HOW TO WORK THIS PIECE OF- [ BEEP ] “ ‘

When Raph first recorded his answering machine message, the brothers would all burst into laughter whenever he missed their calls. But now, Leo only grimaced and shrank at the harsh sounds of his fiery brother, almost as if the recording was taunting him.

REMINDING him.

“ Come on.. COME ON. “ The eldest bit his lip as he tried for Don’s cell again. With each failed call his mind became more and more unclear, as his voice was failing to conceal his shame and anger, his sadness… and his regret.

‘ “ Sorry, this is Donatello Hamato, I’m not at the phone right now, please leave a message, and if I have time I might call you back. [ BEEP ] “ ‘

“ - GRRRAHHH!! “

Leo raised his phone as if he were about to throw it into the ground, his arm stretched and taught like a band on a slingshot. Just as he looked like he was about to throw it with all the force he could muster, his arms went limp to his sides as he lost the battle to hold back his tears. The leader in blue, the one with the plan, the one who should never fail his family, fell down on his knees and began….

.. to pray.

Mikey could barely hear his brother as the oldest’s voice clashed and strained from the guilt and shame that swirled in his heart. The youngest could make out a few words through the chokes and sobs, the most used being “ please” and “ help them”… But the rest was grief-stricken gibberish that only God Himself was able to understand.

That’s good..seeing how He can actually do something for our brothers.. Mikey thought to himself, his inner voice tinged with bitterness.

Mikey looked down with hate filled eyes at his swollen ankle. He could feel his own tears now beginning to stream down his face as he gulped down the growing anxiety bubbling up his throat.

I can’t do anything.

His bitter heart added a sting to the tears as they pricked the corners of his eyes.

I can’t do anything for them.

He looked up.

…. But… I know You can.

With a strained voice, Mikey called to his brother, but all that sounded was the same pathetic squeak he was trying to avoid from before.

Dang it.

Mikey tried again, this time clearing his throat the best he could.

“ Leo…”

The oldest’s bowed head slowly rose from the ground to look up at his youngest brother. Tears had stained his royal blue mask, and his eyes were rimmed with a soft red. Choked sobs still weaseled their way out of Leo’s throat, as his gaze met Mikey’s.

“ Come.. *hic*.. Come here, bro. Pl- pl- lease..”

Without a word, Leo walked to his brother’s side. And Mikey, in one smooth motion, leapt off the couch one last time.

“ M- mikey n- no- “

The oldest never finished his sentence as his body was met with a crushing hug from his little brother.

The two stood there for what felt like hours, embracing each other as their shoulders trembled, and nestling their heads deep into the other’s neck. Their arms clung tighter and tighter as their separate sobs melded together into a cadence of fear and grief.

Their fight from earlier had no place in either of the brothers’ thoughts as they continued to try to comfort each other. The two boys’ minds were far too busy being filled with reasons of why Don and Raph sounded the dreaded alarm. What could have happened to them. If they were both alright.

..If they would ever come home.

“ We- we’re run-n-ning out of ti-ime.. “ The oldest whispered as he rubbed the tears from his eyes into Mikey’s shoulder.

The youngest’s chest tightened as he took a sharp inhale.

He knew what he had to do.

And he hated it.

“…G-go…..Go fi- find the- them. “ Mikey whispered back, “ I- I’ll only s-slow you do- down.. “

Leo lifted his head to look his youngest brother in the eyes. The oldest’s expression was filled with child-like fear and nervousness; He looked like a kid again. He had that same look that all kids wear when something scary happens:

WHAT DO I DO?

And with that question, a child would usually go to the closest adult in the room.

Leo is seventeen.

And he’s the closest they had to an adult until Splinter came home from scavenging in Central Park.

But with the call to leadership, Leo’s face and posture changed. His slumped shoulders straightened, and his chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. He gave the weakest of smiles, rubbed his eyes one last time, and then nodded as he gently pushed Mikey back onto the couch.

“ I’ll f- find them, Mikey. “

Leo placed his hand on the back of Mikey’s neck, and lowered his forehead to the youngest’s.

“… I promise. “

As Leo picked up his katanas and began to run to the Lair’s main doorway into the tunnels, Mikey remembered something.

“ W-wait- Leo, hold up! “

The eldest quickly swiveled his head to be in Mikey’s direction, as the youngest leaned over and pulled some kind of secret drawer out of the coffee table. He grabbed something shiny and then threw it to Leo. With a quick flick of his wrist thanks to his ninja skills, the blue clad turtle caught the energy bar with ease. After a slight glance at the snack, he looked back up to Mikey with a “ you know what you did “ grin. Mikey responded with the widest of grins Leo’s ever seen.

“ .. Thanks, Little Brother. “

In a blur of green and blue, Leo had vanished sprinting down the tunnels.

Mikey gave a long, weighted sigh as he wiped away the remaining tears on his face.

… It’s ok….Leo’s got it… He’ll find them….

As he sat on the couch, not sure where to land his eyes, he noticed the wooden picture frame hanging on the wall next to the hallway. The words written inside the glass echoed in Mikey’s mind as his heart finally shattered.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. Acknowledge Him in all your ways and He will direct your paths. “

They’ll be ok…. Mikey thought as he fell deep into the cushions of the couch, once again letting his tears stream freely, Leo will find them.. God will help him find them..

Mikey closed his eyes.

Lord… Keep my brothers safe.. Please, Lord..

PLEASE bring them home.

That's it for this chapter! :) Hope you enjoyed it! ( Or it made you sob your eyes out, either way as a author I win XD )

To God be the glory!

~ Melissa

MASTERPOST <- PRIOR CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ->

#tmnt #my version of tmnt!!#the strength in weakness #SIW Leo #SIW Mikey #hurt/comfort #comfort #hugging #tcest DNI- THEY ARE BROTHERS YA FREAKS #Sibling moment #Grieving #loss #trusting in God

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thelampisaflashlight · 1 year

Text

Just thinkin’

Thinkin’ about when Dew first got summoned.

Thinkin’ about him being absolutely infatuated with Mist, because she’s the first water ghoul he’s gotten to interact with properly.

How she’s completely done with him the first time he slips up at practice, but teaches him regardless.

How she looks at Ifrit teasing him, stoking the flames deep inside of him, boiling away his water... and how it makes her so bitterly angry.

Because Dew is supposed to be her successor, not his.

But she can’t bring herself to admit that she cares about him.

She wants him to stay, to embrace their shared element, but she can see it.

That burning need for approval, for the fire that has harmed him again and again to finally make him warm.

She’s the one who listens when Dew cries himself to sleep, still fresh from the pit, calling out for his mother.

And she’s the one who learns how long he was alone.

It makes her stomach churn.

How he could yearn for someone who abandoned him.

That he could want to be like that person.

It frustrates her, and it only gets worse the happier he looks.

So she bullies him, never harshly, but there’s always a bit of a bite to her words.

And then Dew tells her, in the quietest voice imaginable, that she reminds him of her.

He flounders and says something like, “Not because you’re old or whatever, it’s like- It’s like I have a sister, maybe?”

And, fuck, does that hurt.

He’s so lonely, and Mist feels cruel for the part she’s playing in it, alongside Ifrit.

They’re both treating him like the clay at the bottom of the lake.

Molding him, burning him, shaping him for the sake of...

Mist isn’t sure why they’re doing it.

Why they did it.

Why they let it happen.

Even now, resting in the roll of the water plants, among the fish, Mist wonders how happy that little puddle could be.

Her little puddle.

Her brother.

#Lamp rambles #nameless ghouls #mist ghoulette #dewdrop ghoul #ifrit ghoul #ghost band #the band ghost #ghost bc #nameless ghoul headcanons #ghost band headcanons #working on mist's characterization in my lore and it's just 'stubborn but loving'

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blushstories · 2 years

Note

pls can we have an “I thought you were dead” + reunion w/ someone?!? 😭😭 like idek you choose Billy, Bucky, WHOEVER U WANT DARLING!!!

~ 🦣

ohohoho this is it. this is the one. this is um actually genius but forgive the exposition here, i chose billy!

Hughie and MM are muttering at the back of the room. Their gazes lay heavy on Butcher’s back, but he doesn’t care anymore.

He swirls the auburn liquid around his glass, a mini whirlpool appearing in the centre. Hughie’s pitch rises but his speech is cut with a smack muffled by layers of clothing.

“Will you twats either shut up or fuck off?”

His words aren’t slurred. They’re sharp, crisp, and Hughie realises the level of alcohol in his glass hasn’t decreased since he poured himself a glass.

He can’t bring himself to drink away his grief, not with your voice in his head tell him it won’t get any better if he does.

Instead, he replays the last time he saw you in his mind. Over and over, rewinding the tape and allowing the memory to slice at his heart again.

Your body wasn’t found in the rubble of the warehouse. Whether blown away or buried so deep that retrieval was impossible, The Boys don’t know.

They do know how Butcher cried. Pawing at the bricks until his fingers bled, ready to throw a right hook at anyone who tried to stop him.

Now, a week later, Hughie and MM recall the bags under his eyes, a newfound lassiez-faire attitude, and appearances where he seems to have been crying beforehand.

There’s a commotion upstairs, Hughie and MM bolt up the staircase. Two weeks ago, Butcher would have forced himself in front and prepared for a fight. Now, he doesn’t care how they get rid of the bugger, so long as there’s peace.

The alcohol taunts him, his shoulders are sore from his weak posture.

Someone barrels down the stairs, and says, “Monsieur Charcuter! You have a visitor!”

More footsteps.

“Tell ‘em I ain’t interested, Frenchie,” his hand tightens around the glass.

Lighter footsteps tread down the staircase now, and his heart swells with sorrow, their rhythm reminiscent of your almost melodic skips up and down the same staircase.

“Not even for me?”

The momentum with which Butcher spins knocks his glass over. It’s like an anvil has fallen through his chest and then his stomach, his jaw slackens and he has to blink twice.

Maybe he drank the alcohol after all.

You’re standing in front of Frenchie, whose arms are folded across his chest. One arm supports his head as he fails to hide a grin.

Your eyes are red rimmed, and there’s a cut across your cheekbone. Semi-healed, and there’s dirt scuffed along your jaw and forehead, and baked into the fabric of your clothes.

Hughie looks relieved, but concerned, and Butcher’s head falls out of the clouds.

Butcher is up in a second, in two steps his arms are around you. The hoodie that you’re wringing in your hands falls to the floor in a heap and you’re engulfed in a bone-crushing hug.

You’re surprised he doesn’t smell of alcohol, really. He inhales and squeezes you tighter, unspoken prayers of gratitude at his fingertips.

“This ain’t fucking real,” he says, and you feel a dampness in the crook of your neck. You tighten your grip, feeling his back muscles flex under his shirt as he shifts for comfort.

“As real as that spilled drink,” you sniffle. He chuckles wetly, and your shirt is pulled into his fist. Just before you begin to sway he pulls back, hands welded to your shoulders.

His eyes flit between every feature of your face; your eyes, nose, lips.

“Now, don’t you fuck with me. Don’t you…I thought—” His words flounder, your heart aches.

“I’m sorry, Billy. I never meant to—“ He’s wiping a tear away before you realise it’s even fallen.

“What happened?” He grips onto your biceps tenderly, pulling you as close as he can. Your hips brush against his. He notices the immediate change in your demeanour, feels the tension flood into your muscles. The lines between his eyebrows deepen. Frenchie’s smile falls.

You can’t get the words out, any relief at finally being home eviscerated by fear striking you like a lightning bolt.

“Whatever it is, I swear to ya, we’ll sort it.”

Your next inhale is fragmented.

“Y/N?” He says softly, concerned, and he quickly glances at Hughie, Frenchie and MM behind you before looking back.

“I’ll tell you,” you say. “You should sit down first, though.” You turn to the others, “all of you.”

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #x reader #karl urban characters #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #william butcher #the boys x reader #billy butcher fanfiction #william butcher fanfiction #william butcher x you #butcher the boys

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a-dragons-journal · 2 months

Note

hello! this is about your recent post where you mention in the tags that it’s okay to ask you about syscourse? sorry if that’s not what you meant, you can ignore this if you want.

for context, i don’t really have an opinion on endogenic systems, since i don’t think i have a place to. i’m a singlet — i once asked several (traumagenic) systems that i knew what their opinions on endos were, and, of course, they all gave different answers. (ranging from “it’s ridiculous and offensive” to “i don’t know, some have their reasons [gives list of reasons]” to “they exist and are harmless.”)

the problem is, i can see the arguments on both sides. like, yes, i agree that psychologists don’t know everything and could be overlooking some systems who really actually exist without a traumamatic origin. but at the same time, how likely is it that they’d totally have missed all these endo systems? but psychologists do miss a lot of things, like how autistic women are just now starting to get diagnosed. then again, is that situation really comparable? are there reputable studies published about endos that i just don’t know of?

i agree with what you said about not doubting others’ experiences of their own selves. but that raises the question of whether you should believe the reasons for what they’re experiencing. for example, i don’t believe in every religion. but if someone told me that they prayed to their god and their god comforted them, i wouldn’t doubt the fact that they were comforted — i just don’t think [insert example god here] exists. that’s just a thing that will happen when people have different beliefs. i wouldn’t say that to them, not unless they directly asked me my beliefs, but i just don’t believe in some religions. that’s just part of living, it would be pretty difficult to believe in every religion and philosophy at the same time. i wouldn’t expect anything different for other people regarding my beliefs, either — if i tell someone with different religious beliefs about a religious experience i had, i won’t be mad if they have a different explanation. (for clarification: i’m not trying to say this to be all “look at me, i don’t get mad but you people do!” i really hope it doesn’t come off that way. i try not to think i’m better than anyone, genuinely. i think i’m right about some things, of course, but who doesn’t think they’re right about some things? i can’t believe anything unless i think some things are correct and some things aren’t.)

it’s similar (though not the same) for systems, i feel like. for endo systems who are spiritual in origin especially. i don’t doubt their experiences, but i just can’t believe that some explanations are correct if my belief system is contradictory to it. does this mean i think all endos are secretly traumagenic, or, the opposite, that they’re all faking their experiences of being plural? very likely not. i haven’t seen everyone’s lives or brains.

i wouldn’t cut someone off solely for being endo, and i wouldn’t cut someone off solely for being anti-endo. i don’t know, i feel like i’m supposed to with tumblr culture being like it is. i understand that there’s many traumagenic systems who believe endos are wrong, or faking, because by modern medical knowledge, endos shouldn’t be a thing. they don’t want to be around people who they truly believe are co-opting their hardships for fun or completely misunderstanding what being plural is actually like. and i know they do truly believe that, they’re not being mean for the sake of it or trying to be ableist — as you’re probably aware, they believe that many endos are the ableists. but i don’t have the negative reaction some traumagenic systems have, because i’m a singlet. i can’t say for-sure-for-sure that endos are all super wrong about everything or that they’re all fakers, because i can’t read minds and i’m not omnipresent. i’m skeptical, but not so skeptical that i’ll dismiss it out of hand. i’m floundering around trying not to offend anybody unduly while wondering which people are the ones i actually shouldn’t mind offending.

i’m realizing i don’t have an actual question here. i guess i want someone to talk to about this, since my friend group (containing several of the traumagenic systems i mentioned earlier, the ones i asked their opinions on) has turned decidedly anti-endo. i don’t know when everyone decided to do this, as last year there were still multiple opinions spinning around, but i guess i missed out on a conversation or something. maybe some do still hold their former opinions, or anti-endo alters are the ones fronting more often when the topic comes up. i think they would be fine if i brought the topic up and told them how i felt — my friends are pretty reasonable when people have genuine questions, i highly doubt they’d kick me out or mock me or anything — but still.

i think i just want alternate opinions to consider, and to learn facts about endos i might not know of. i’ll probably stay pretty ambivalent no matter what people say on the topic (and i don’t say this to discourage anyone from telling me stuff, just trying to be honest about what will likely happen). i can imagine myself taking either stance, which means that i can’t in good faith take ANY stance. i have no clue which is objectively correct. i guess the important thing is just that i try to understand everyone’s perspective and be kind to everyone no matter how my beliefs change.

keeping this anonymous because i don’t want anyone i know to find this, at least not yet.

Hey anon, thanks for sending this and I think you're being very reasonable and handling this very well. I have a pretty strong opinion on this, but I don't want that to come off as me trying to bully you for making sure that you do your due diligence before taking up a stance on it; I think the world would be a better place if more people did that more consistently.

First, I really don't believe in the "singlets shouldn't have opinions on syscourse" thing. There's not really a neutral on this one; being neutral on whether or not to believe people about their lived experiences almost invariably just means you're willing to let the antis fakeclaim and often harass people. If you're existing in spaces with systems, you kind of have to have some sort of opinion on it. (And "I don't know enough to know what I think about this yet" is a valid opinion, and one I think more people should be willing to say!)

A major thing here is that science absolutely does recognize the existence of systems outside of DID and OSDD - which is usually what anti-endo people really mean when they say "traumagenic systems," despite the fact that technically it's possible for a system to be traumagenic without meeting the diagnostic criteria for DID or OSDD, and (and this is the controversial one) it's at least theoretically possible for a system to be DID or OSDD and never have experienced trauma - trauma is not part of the diagnostic criteria, and contrary to what anti-endos often say, DID and OSDD are not classified as trauma disorders in the DSM-V, they're classified as dissociative disorders. The theory of structural dissociation is not the be-all-end-all of theorizing on why DID and OSDD happen, and there's no objectively proving that it is.

Anyway. Tangent aside - even the diagnostic criteria for DID acknowledge that there are plural experiences that are not pathological when it makes an exception for possessions and plurality linked to cultural and religious practices. Outside of that, there are indeed papers and articles focusing on non-traumagenic and/or non-pathological plurality, and doubtless more of them mention it offhandedly - here's one short list which I've at least glanced at each of the entries in, and a longer list I unfortunately haven't had the time to read through and thus can't vouch for the links in yet (but it's there for your reading if you like). I'm certain there's more out there; my resources on this are limited.

Even aside from that, I feel like people forget that in psychology, studies and articles "proving" the existence of a phenomenon are just... recording the experiences of people in a mass format. There's no objective test you can do to tell if someone's plural. It's just large groups of people self-reporting their subjective experiences, instead of people doing it one at a time like you see on Tumblr or wherever else. Should I need a study to tell me that my experience of nonhumanity is real? Why is someone's experience of plurality different?

A pathological form of something existing doesn't mean that a non-pathological form of that thing can't also exist. The non-pathological form existing, likewise, doesn't mean that the pathological form suddenly isn't pathological anymore. Normal anxiety existing doesn't mean a clinical anxiety disorder suddenly isn't pathological anymore, and someone having a clinical anxiety disorder doesn't mean other people can't experience normal levels of anxiety about things without it being either faking or secretly a disorder. I mean, obviously this isn't a perfect comparison, but - do you see what I mean?

Re: not having to believe people on why, this is true and fair, but: I don't need to believe a given system's specific explanation for why they're plural, but I do need to defend their right to believe it, and I need to not insist that my explanation or experiences are universal. I also need to raise the point that if you (general you, not you specifically) are insisting that the why must be trauma, you are doing more harm than good - people's brains can and do make up traumatic pseudo-memories under pressure to remember something traumatic that never actually happened, and that has real effects on them even though those events didn't actually happen.

I do take your point about some anti-endos genuinely believing endogenic systems are either misunderstanding or co-opting their experiences. However, I personally hold to the opinion that frankly, this is solidly a them problem. If you can't understand someone else's experiences, and you decide that because of that they must be either wrong or lying, that is a you problem and you need to work on that. If you see someone having fun with (or just having a normal time with) something that's painful and traumatic for you, and you decide that because of that they must be faking or mocking you, that is a you problem and you need to work on that. It is an understandable you problem, because I get where the gut reaction is coming from, but it is still a you problem.

(Note that this is the same thing we say to transmeds, for the same reason we say it to sysmeds - and no, I don't call them "sysmeds" because I'm basing it on "transmed," I call them that because that's what they are, system medicalists, people insisting that the only way to be a system is for it to be a medical, pathological thing.)

Hopefully that helps give you some thoughts to chew on; I'm more than happy to continue this if you like, of course.

#rani talks #asked and answered #anonymous #t minus eight minutes to someone showing up in my inbox screaming at me for ''involving myself in syscourse as a singlet'' again #(this is mostly a joke. i don't care. if someone's gonna be bad-faith enough to tell me i don't even have the right to an opinion -#- they're probably not even worth arguing with)#anyway that's enough spacer tags hopefully for this to not show up in tags #syscourse #<- i do have previous debates in there if you want to peruse them btw

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writing-fanics · 11 months

Text

🫧 •.•. fish outta water .•.• 🫧

Prince Eric x Mermaid!Reader

. Chapter Two: Part of Your World.

@ladynoiree @pinkdaiisies @naturepostsforyou @bambi-horror @h-l-vlovesvintage @lomlfike @halfofagayallofaqueer @dandyytrash @platonicasever @lovinghimwasted @iambored24601 @indie-moon-tea @cultish-corner#

Table of Contents

a/n: really short chapter cause i dont remeber what Triton says to Ariel in the movie. What happens he scolds both of you two for being obsessed with the human world. and the two of you go back to the grotto. i promise next chapter will be better.. i think its just burn out

“I just don't see things the way he does. I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things - could be bad.” Ariel said, looking at the dinglehopper as she placed it among the other similar items the two of you found.

[Play Part of Your World Here both of you sing it]

You and Ariel, looked back down at the items you’ve collected together. Until a burst of color and light caught your interest from the corner of your eye. You glanced up at the opening of the grotto, curiously. Before looking back at Flounder and swam up towards the surface, Ariel followed. “Ariel, Y/n don't!” Flounder shouted, but they continued swimming up. Sebastian looked up from outside the grotto, and noticed the two mermaids swimming up towards the surface. “No no no, what do they think they’re doing?!” He said, watching as they reached it.

Your hand reached out towards the surface, and once you reached the top you looked around curiously along with Ariel. As a burst of colors lit up the sky, your eyes widened in awe seeing the ship before the two of you. You quickly swam towards the ship as music played aboard following it as it swam past. Once you reached one of the lifeboats, Ariel and you climbed up to stay hidden. Wanting to peek at the humans, as they partied on the ship.

You couldn’t help but listen to the conversation aboard, and how Eric was just like you. The feeling of being trapped, and wanting to see more. He talked about how there was more out there, and there’s something calling him. “Be more like my father was cut off from the rest of the world?” Eric said.

“You know what I mean. When you came to us twenty one years ago the king and queen took you in and treated you as one of their own.” Grimsby said, and you stared at him but you noticed a dog coming towards you, and sniffed you and Ariel. His tail starts wagging as the two of you gently, scratched behind his ear.

“Max? Max? What’re you doing over there?” Eric said, and you pulled your hand back ducking back to avoid them seeing you. “Now that you’ve come of age.Your responsibilities are at home.” Grimsby said.

“Your father would have expected that-” Grimsby said.

“Yes, trapped inside that castle in isolation and fear… I can't do it” Eric said.

“I think maybe a little fear-”

“Your not listening. I want to be a different kind of leader, that's the whole reason we’re on this voyage.” He said, “I just feel like there's something out there calling to me.” He said, and you stared up at him.

Suddenly, a storm was on the horizon sending the ship and the crew into a frenzy as everyone ran to secure the ship from the storm as heavy rain fell from the sky. Giant waves crashed against the ship causing some of the sailors to lose their balance and fall to the ground on their backs. The ship was also heading straight towards giant rocks. Causing the two mermaids to jump back into the water, watching as the event unfolded.

As the ship struck the rocks, Eric turned the ship's wheel. You watched in shock, as a fire broke out on the ship causing some of the crew to jump into the water towards the lifeboats. Eric, about to jump into the water, heard his dog Max barking. You watched as he ran to get him, and after getting his dog. Carried him over the railing of the ship to jump into the water. With a splash you swam underneath to give the struggling to a push to get to the lifeboat. Avoiding being seen by the sailors.

Eric climbed up onto the railing about to jump into the water. “Eric!” Grimsby shouted, and suddenly he lost his balance. Falling back crashing into some wooden crates, and into the water sinking. Ariel and You, dove into the water swimming around looking for him. Eric slowly sank into the depths of the water, until you saw him and quickly swam down to grab him. Quickly, swimming up towards the surface and you looked down at him as the waves crashed on the two of you.

#prince eric x reader #prince eric x you #prince eric x y/n #jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king x you #jonah hauer king x y/n #the little mermaid #the little mermaid fanfiction

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the-daily-dreamer · 2 years

Note

The amount of mental gymnastics people are displaying to make Daemons actions ok 💀

It’s truly sickening honestly.

So many people coming out of the woodwork to defend abuse instead of accepting that they were wrong and romanticized a violent predator.

“He was grieving his brother”

“He was angry his brother didn’t trust him with the prophecy”

“He was frustrated with Rhaenyra for her inaction, and wanted to get his point across”

“He was angry Alicent murdered his brother (in his mind)”

All of these statements dance around the subject. They admit he put his hands on her because it’s right in front of their faces. There’s no room to pretend he didn’t do it. So now they’re floundering to make Daemon choking his wife more palatable. Grief, anger, frustration, betrayal. They throw around every strong, negative emotion out there and hope one sticks. They’re throwing blame on Rhaenyra for being too slow to respond, Viserys for not sharing the prophecy, Alicent for killing Viserys in Daemon’s brain (this one is so funny tho). Anyone but the actual perpetrator. They hope that if they make Daemon seem broken down and hurt enough, everyone will agree he was within his right to hurt his wife and leave her gasping for air as she tries to pry his hands off her neck.

But that will not happen. Daemon committed domestic abuse. He strangled his wife. I don’t care about the circumstances. I don’t care if he was sad or angry or annoyed. There is no excuse out there for raising a hand to your partner or strangling them. It’s vile. It’s abuse.

Daemon has always been abusive to women in his life. He killed his first wife. He ignores his daughters. He manipulates his mistress. He grooms his niece. He has always been an abusive, sexist man. Always.

Daemon stans need to accept that they were wrong. Stop excusing abuse. Stop saying it was anyone else’s fault. Stop saying he couldn’t control it because of x feeling. And stop saying he still loves Rhaenyra after choking her. That isn’t love.

And to any young or vulnerable people in this fandom who may be influenced by this fictional discourse, please know. Daemon is not a good partner, and abuse is not love. Hurting someone no matter how angry they are is not love. Grooming is not love. Daemon does not love Rhaenyra. This is an abusive relationship built in years of grooming. Pointblank Period.

So yeah. Daemon is trash and abuser. No excuses.

#black fans say they’re feminists and then shit themselves defending a domestic abuser who kills and chokes women #to be a feminist on team black you need to earn an olympic gold medal in gymnastic #daemon is an abuser #house of the dragon #game of thrones #anti targaryen #anti targ stans #anti daemon targaryen #anti daemon #anti daemon stans #anti daemrya #anti daemon x rhaenyra #anti team black

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louisisalarrie · 1 month

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what was it really like being in the fandom when 1d was still together? was there stuff happening like every day?

oh my god yes. it was incredible. almost every day we had new content, and it wasn’t all just promo or anything, like, the boys would post on their instagrams, tweet us and each other, there’d be interviews, twitcams, snapchats, photoshoots, new music, new content every day from the tour they were on etc., we were thriiiiiiiving. it felt like so much more of a special relationship, because they’d share more from a personal level and not just tweet to promote new stuff. It was very fun and wholesome and the fandom as a whole were just sooooo active.

due to having all this new content all the time, we also obviously got a lot of Larry stuff. and a lot of Larry stuff means active larries, proofs, a million gif versions of the same interaction, just… excitement. You never knew what they’d do the next day. Tumblr and Twitter was just full of 1d and Larry.

And I think this is a major factor as to why so many larries have slipped away, as well as antis, general 1d fans, etc., because we’re not really… getting much from them anymore. If you go have a look through the 1d Instagram, as well as the boys’ person instagrams, they were active sooooo often. It was a post almost every couple of days. And our fandom was very fun, but fandoms were so much more of a thing. It was like “Directioners vs. Beliebers” and while we argued about who was better, it felt not as purposely hostile as it does now. Fandoms just aren’t the same now, they exist in a different light. If you were around kinda the 12-16 yr old age during 2011-2016, being in a fandom, no matter the topic, was just a thing. It was a sense of belonging, and friendship.

Apart from being such a different fandom these days with the solos and baby fans on Twitter being involved, we also just aren’t getting anything except promo stuff/stunt content (in Harry’s case particularly) now. A selfie from one of them (Louis mainly lol) and we’re all happy and excited for like 24 hours before we’re parched again. The relationship we had back then was so fun and exciting. We grew up with them, and laughed and smiled and felt like we knew them. It just felt so different to the basic promo that every other artist was doing. But twitter and Instagram were used for that reason. But now, they’re very different platforms and we are in a very different social media and PR climate than ever before.

And I think with the lack of Larry content now, people reach to try and confirm that they are still communicating with us like before. Some of the theories I see on twitter about how Louis and harry are signalling to us are… for lack of a better term: wild. It makes us seem so stupid and like we look into things too deep and reach like crazy, and scramble for Larry to still be real. And that comes naturally when you still believe in something/still wanna prove it. You truly are gonna try everything you can to validate that belief to yourself, and to others. But it’s not doing us any favours.

The Larry thing came around from very clear proof, evidence, and interactions that we saw all of the time throughout 1d, but if I came into it now, I’d probably be on the “they once were together but aren’t anymore” side because I wasn’t there during 1d and the very early days, ya know? So I truly applaud baby larries for researching and upholding their belief in the boys because they deserve justice.

I miss it dearly, to be honest. The chaos, the love, the fights, the support, voting 100 times on some fan award so the Beliebers wouldn’t beat us, RBB and SBB, the belonging, the boys. Even the bad times were fun in their own way.

Anyway, living through that time, the stunts were very transparent to us because the 1d team floundered and stumbled and fucked up an incredible amount, because they hadn’t dealt with something so massive with such an intense fandom before. we watched PR try so many different ways to figure out the right equation, to techniques they still use now. I know very lovely folks who aren’t larries anymore, but still will never believe that louis has a kid. It’s really incredible and I don’t think there will be a time like that again, and the only way it would happen similarly would be if 1d got back together and a part of the fandom came back to tumblr. But now a lot of us are grown up and can’t be online 24/7, and we have bigger priorities/different interests. But I think we’ll always be here in some capacity, and the internet would fully explode if there was a reunion. God, could you imagine?

Anyway, yeah, it was a beautiful time and I miss it. Sometimes it’s lovely to go through old screenshots and their instagrams and tweets and remind myself of that time that was truly formative for us and being part of a journey that was so exciting and shocking with twists and turns and love and hate and chaotically posting about whatever happened that day and people finding lifelong friends out of a shared interest. Even the hate we used to get is nothing compared to today. It’s just so different. I wish everyone could’ve experienced that time because the ones who did and are still here… well… those boys hold a very special part of our hearts and i truly hope they come back. Even though it’ll be different, it’ll still be a bit the same.

Thanks for the reminiscing, anon!

#anon #answered #bbg

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