#but just handing me a Bible and saying then there you go isn't enough | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

annwrites · 1 month

Text

i already have ♰˳⸙;;

— pairing: shane walsh x fem!reader (gn! in this post, but fem! in other installments i have/will post(ed))

— type: ficlet

— summary: you & shane share your beliefs in a short conversation in a church

— tags: talking

— tw: suicidal ideation, religion

— word count: 930

— a/n: find my other posts concerning shane, which take place after & before this, here | the views reader expresses towards going to church are my own. if you don't like it, don't read

You stare up at the crucifix before you, feeling devoid of anything.

No.

Not anything.

Hopelessness is the one thing you do feel.

One dead-end after another. That's the only thing you all do seem able to find.

The CDC and Jenner had had no answers. Not with his wife being gone.

The highway and Dale's RV blowing a radiator hose had left all of you stranded in the middle of nowhere.

And now you were here.

You'd all felt so hopeful to hear that bell ringing. You'd prayed to a God who clearly wasn't listening—if he ever had—for it to lead you toward something. To Sophia.

She'd never been here in the first place.

You glance to Carol and can practically feel the grief and desperation rolling off of her. You don't want to believe that Sophia is gone. Or worse: being out there alone in the woods...

If the wrong people—the wrong men—came across her... You don't want to think about how she'd never have a chance.

Death would be kinder.

So you stare at Him—crying tears of blood—and wonder how His father, who knows what it is to lose a child, could allow such a thing?

The wooden bench creaks as Shane sets down beside you. "Didn't know you were religious."

He says it softly, his tone anything but mocking, even if he himself doesn't believe. Doesn't understand how you can—if you indeed do, that is. But if you do—have some sort of faith, something to believe in—he'll just be glad if it finally turns out that you have something that may perhaps help to keep you going.

"I'm not."

The thought of the possibility of you taking comfort in something more, even if you can't see it, quickly disappears. He leans back, resting him arm behind you, all thoughts of encouraging you to take a Bible with you when you all leave now gone.

You're quiet for a moment, then, "Are you?"

He shrugs. "Not really. Never was my thing, I guess. Hard to believe when you're witness to the shit I was as a cop." He looks at you. "Were you ever?"

You shrug then as well. "My parents made me go to church when I was little. Like a lot of kids, especially in the south. I never liked it. The getting up early, and being forced into uncomfortable clothes, and the way my mom did my hair. I didn't like how the other kids were mean to me, or how I would sit on those uncomfortable wooden pews and stare up at a preacher yelling words and passages at me that I couldn't understand. I didn't like how judgmental so many in the congregation seemed to be, even toward each other. Once I was old enough to make the decision not to go anymore, I stopped attending. I didn't regret it."

You look at him and his head is now resting atop his fist as he simply looks at you. You're unsure of the soft look in his eyes.

"So what'd you start believin' in instead? If anythin'."

You glance down to your lap. "Nothing in particular, I guess. I just...I suppose I tried to just see the beauty in nature instead. In the plants and trees, insects and animals, fresh air and clear water. Occasionally even people." You look up to him. "The way I am now—who I am now—is nothing like the way I was before. I didn't need to look for a reason to live, because I didn't need one. Because I didn't want to die."

He uses his other hand that isn't propping his head up to reach out and take your right hand, holding it firmly—comfortingly—in his grip.

"What if that reason was another person?" He looks at you from under his lashes.

You look down to your hand that's in his, watching as his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of yours. "I don't know how to make you realize you're wasting your time-"

He cuts you off, taking his other hand and lacing it between strands of your hair at the back of your head, gently massaging. "I don't know how to make you realize the only waste would be your life being cut so damn short."

You think back to the things he'd said to you that night in the RV—I refuse to just let you slip through my fingers—he made it sound like...like you were something he'd finally found after having looked for you for so long.

You can't keep doing this to him: insisting that you want to be left alone to die. You'd done it twice now. And while what happened on the highway had been an accident...had he not had his eye on you— not seen you pass out—you may've slipped away right there in the middle of the road. So, he had saved you a third time. And even now he was still trying to talk you into staying...alive.

Giving up was easy. The thought of trying to hold on? It feels near-impossible now. Like lifting a giant boulder and carrying it with you every step of the way.

"Do you believe we'll find her?"

He studies you for a moment. "I hope so."

"Do you believe we'll find...something, or somewhere worth living for?"

He leans toward you, gently pressing his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. "I already have," he says in a whisper, before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

#fic: twd (shane walsh x reader)#shane walsh x y/n #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh imagine #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd x reader

49 notes · View notes

mediocreanomaly · 5 months

Text

Amen. Priest!Wolfwood x Reader (NSFW)

**GN!Reader** Authors Note: I have an issue. Yes Priest!Wolfwood sparks joy, so please enjoy 4,539 of depravity as my welcome back, small note at the end!

**Content Warning: I grew up religious so I'm using real scripture here, if you're religious or that makes you uncomfy this might be a skip for you, if you're depraved like me read on**

Being raised Catholic was a one-way street to spoon fulls of guilt being shoved down your throat. Most everyone in the church was more or less aware of that fact, whether they acknowledged it or not.

However, there’s a warning they don't bother to put on the good book. A warning about the more...complicated relationship you develop with religion once the guilt that's swelled up in your chest has nowhere else to go.

"Then God said, 'Take your son to the land of Moriah and kill your son there as a sacrifice for me. This must be Isaac, your only son, the one you love. Use him as a burnt offering on one of the mountains there. I will tell you which mountain.” Church sometimes God ask things from us, things that seem...unimaginable, unbearable, but we are not lead blindly. No, quite the opposite, God-' " Father Wolfwood emphases by pointing to the rafters of the church as if the big man himself was sitting there, watching. "He has a plan, a plan so great and magnificent that we cannot begin to comprehend. With that understanding Abraham takes his son, because he trust, church, he trust God enough to follow-"

The sermon is drowned out. To anyone around you you'd look devout. Pious even with how well you focus on Father Wolfwood, but it's not the bible that makes you show up every Sunday. It's the dark black tousled hair that trails into stubble lining his cheek. It's those big brown eyes wide and confident as he preaches to the congregation. It's those hands, large and calloused, that make you wonder what life he must have lived before this as he moves them around with his speech. It's his skin, perfectly tan and forehead beading with sweat from the insufferable heat of the church, no doubt that cassock isn't helping. It's his voice, deep and raspy with that perfect cadence that makes you wonder what it'd be like if he said your name while bending you over-

"Y/n?" The altar boy who you didn't even realize had come to your pew ask. He's holding out communion in a way that tells you he's been there for a second.

"Oh! uh-" you reach out for the wine when a hand around your wrist stops you, you blink a few times and look up to see the man you were just ogling at meeting your gaze with dark eyes.

"Why don't you pass that out to the other pews, y/n is joining me for a special communion after church, they had something they wanted to pray on with me" Father Wolfwood says easily.

"I do?" the words fall from your mouth dumbly which causes Wolfwood to raise an eyebrow at you as if you're stupid. You let yourself swallow and bow your head as if scolded, you wonder what part of being a priest blessed him with so much sass.

"ah- right! yes I had forgotten, thank you Father Wolfwood" you correct. You had not, in fact, discussed anything of the sorts with the Father, but there was clearly something you were missing here.

He gives you a curt nod before softening his eyes and turning back to the young boy.

"Go on" he insist. He does, continuing to the next pew with all the confirmation he needed and Wolfwood finally let’s go of your wrist. The warmth of his hand that lingers isn't lost on you as you wearily glance up at him.

"Special communion?" You try hoping to gather a bit more information on the situation you'll be faced with after Mass.

"mhmm, God has called me to you. Something weighs on your mind, perhaps a repentance is in order?" his face gives away nothing, although you swear his eyes darken as he watches you with a pleasant smile that stays locked on his face.

Alarm bells ring in your head. Did...did he know? You had done your best to hide your less than innocent gaze as worship. Thinking back on it perhaps you were less conspicuous about it than you thought, that or God was the worst wing man ever.

"Father Wolfwood I-"

He holds up his hand to pause the word vomit that was about to stutter out and shakes his head.

"Later. Best to confess without prying eyes, no?"

He lets you simmer on that as he makes his way back to the front of the church. When he leads the church in prayer you do take it upon yourself to pray for once. You pray you'll sink into the floor or be struck dead before the end of the sermon.

By the time the church doors are opened, and people file out you're sure your heart will burst anyways. You stay seated in the front pew, not moving an inch because if you stand it'll be to bolt out the door and... well technically nothing was keeping you from it. It's not like the god damn (sorry God) preacher would shoot you if you attempted to run. He had simply suggested you confess. Easy. He probably hears peoples fucked up sexual fantasies all the time sitting in that booth. You knew the sheriff’s wife was sleeping with the banker and you knew the sheriff was sleeping with the widow down the street so it's not like the stuff that’s pulled from the great Catholics of No Mans Land weren't anything he hadn't heard before.

That's the thought you try and let comfort you as Father Wolfwood finishes up thanking people for coming to church and shaking hands.

The church doors shut with a thud that makes you jump in your seat; you press your hands together firmly and feel your fingernails dig into the skin there. This was fine.

"You know" Father Wolfwood folds his hands politely behind his back and takes agonizingly slow steps down the aisle "People with guilty conscious are more likely to be startled by loud noises."

You keep your head bowed slightly in what must look like a mock prayer, but you aren’t praying any more, you're just doing everything possible to not throw up on the churches nice red carpet, carpet that is interrupted when two black dress shows come into view.

"y/n?"

That voice. It makes you press you lips in a firm line scared of what filth might come out of it if you speak. Instead, to show you're listening, you slowly raise your head to meet Wolfwoods eyes, the likes of which seem clouded in some strong emotion. Were priest always this intense? Well, the easy answer was yes but this was a different type of intensity, not kind that filled revering words but one that more closely resembled a predator zoning in on its prey.

"Y/n" he says it again, albeit softer this time as if coaxing forward a scared animal. "You have something on your mind, don't you? Something that plagues you?"

You feel your fingers instinctively move to fiddle with the hem of your shirt. If the heat from the church before was unbearable before then this is downright swelting.

"Don't you usually do this kind of thing in the booth?" a poor attempt of a smile graces your lips in a desperate attempt to lighten whatever mood was staring to suffocate the air.

"Usually yes. This is a special case I believe though..." he leans down and your heart slams against your chest, his breath fans against your cheek. You can smell lingering cologne and... was that smoke? Surely not, if your local priest smoked it'd be the talk of the town, although now that you think about it those plush lips would look perfect balancing a cigarette between them, and they'd look even better if he used those teeth to-

"I almost forgot! You haven't received communion" He straightens out in an instant and claps his hands together nearly scaring you out of your skin while your face heats up from pure embarrassment.

You watch as he crosses from the pew to the table behind the pulpit and grabs a small cup of wine and bread. Just as quickly he's back in front of you with the objects. You reach out to accept them when he pulls his hands back.

"ah ah ah, I said this was a special communion didn't I? I'll deliver it unto you, you just sit and do as your told."

Oh. Yeah, that definitely didn't do anything to you. Nothing like a gruff handsome man in priest wear telling you to obey in the house of God. This was for sure not bubbling up any worrying realizations about yourself. Nope. Not in the slightest.

He steps back putting a little bit of room between the two of you before his eyes flicker from you to the carpet in front of him.

"Kneel."

You go instantly and willingly, a bit too willingly. Your mind flashes with Father Wolfwoods sermons about the disciples who kissed Jesus’ feet. You wonder if this was an elaborate way to get you to read the bible more because you're beginning to understand what was going through their minds now as you sit on your knees in front of the priest.

You aren’t sure if Wolfwood expected you to be so eager. He pauses for a moment before you swear a hint of a smirk plays at his lips. He raises the glass and the bit of bread slightly.

"Listen to me closely, we wouldn't want to spill and stain the carpet now, would we?" he ask.

You shake your head no. He makes a satisfied hum and continues.

"Tilt your head back.”

You do as your told, tilting your head back until your eye level is forced to be centered on the man in front of you.

"Open your mouth.”

Your mouth begins to salivate despite the fact there’s nothing in it yet. Perhaps it's due to the fact that what he's about to put in it isn't want you’d like to have resting on your tongue.

"Good. Why don't you stick your tongue out a little bit? I don't want you to dribble."

Fuck him. Fuck him so bad. There was no way he didn't know what he was doing but if had any hint about this sadistic game he was playing with you he gave no indication, he remained at stoic as ever as if you weren't having the most unholy thoughts imagine about your fucking priest.

There’s no going back though. You follow his instructions and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. You swear something flickers in his eyes, but it's gone as soon as it arrives.

He raises the glass and bread more as if offering it to God.

"Close your eyes.”

You do. You let the light of stained-glass windows be blotted out by your own blind obedience.

“Corpus Domini Nostri Iesu Christi custodiat animam tuam in vitam aeternam....Amen."

You feel him press the small bit of bread onto your tongue, you close and eat. You don't need to be told before your opening your mouth again.

The wine follows right after, poured into your mouth and you swallow it down focusing on not letting any hit the ground with the speed at which the contents are emptied down your throat.

What realistically could not have been more than a few seconds feels as though it's lasted a lifetime. You take a deep breath once the bitter wine has settled in your stomach and before you can even think about getting up and excusing yourself from the church Wolfwood puts a hand on your shoulder, signaling for you to stay in place.

"Good. Why don't we get that confession out of the way then?"

Right. The reason he had probably pulled you aside for all of this in the first place. Had he seen through you? Seen how hungry your gaze had become? Probably. Looking back on it sitting in the front row was probably not the best idea when the entire reason for your Sunday visits was for potential fantasy fuel. There didn't seem like any reason to lie though, it's not like a priest could tell anyone about these things and outside of church Father Wolfwood was a bit of an anomaly to the town.

He didn't have any friends that you knew of, didn't gossip, or hang out at the bar, the man lived in this church which was making you feel a bit more guilty about your infatuation now that you thought of it but hey, if you weren't guilty about something then were you even a catholic?

"Forgive me Father I have sinned..."

With a grimace you realize why the damn confessions booths were so popular. Admitting this to God or a wooden wall was a little too easy. Admitting this to Wolfwood was like someone slowly peeling off your skin.

"I see, well, tell me child what is your confession?"

a swallow, then a leap.

"I have been...ah having inappropriate thoughts about someone. Someone who I go out of my way to see to add to these...fantasy's I have."

He listens closely and his hand comes up to cup the back of your head.

"I see...lust then?"

You nod in response, and he makes an affirming noise.

"And what do you imagine happening in these...fantasies of yours?"

The silence in the empty church is so loud it's deafening. Your hands scrunch and unscrunch the fabric of your pants.

"I...I imagine him pushing be down against these very pews Father. That one day as I'm standing up to leave mass, he'll shove me right back down and take me against the wood."

It's said strained but even you must admit maybe there’s something to this confession shit because you feel a bit lighter with it off your shoulders. Father Wolfwood looks less light. In fact, he looks you've just damned him to hell.

"Is that all?" he asks but it comes out breathier than he means it to.

The tone sends something to your core, oh you see it now. Lamb and shepherd your ass, you were still most certainly the lamb but the Father was no shepherd, he was the Wolf. Maybe God himself had put that divine foreshadowing into his name.

You shift on your knees and press yourself flatter trying to rub your thighs together. Wolfwoods eyes flicker down to the action then back up to your face, he opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it.

"No Father. Sometimes I imagine him taking me on the stand in front of the whole congregation. Still preaching while he finishes in me, holy words even in his most sinful act. But...do you know what I really want Father?"

Wolfwood swallows, his fingers trace along your face, and you fight every instinct to lean into it. He looks like this is paining him, He's all gritted teeth and square shoulders as he speaks.

"What do you want?"

Hook. Line. Sinker.

"I imagine he'd keep me here after church, that he'd have me kneel before him still while wearing his holy clothes, that collar, the rosary...and I wish he'd undo his belt to-"

"Enough."

Your mouth snaps shut scared you've pushed to far. You can feel heat bloom across your face in embarrassment now that your words are catching up to you, this was meant to be a confession not a shit porno, maybe you DID need God...

"You drive me insane you know that? Every day you come in here- the house of god mind you and stare at me like..." He clicks his tongue and motions to you.

"Well like that."

You aren't sure what to make of his tone, it's scolding and firm but hinges on needy at the end. You're starting to worry you broke the poor man before he makes an irritated noise.

"Fine. You want to repent so bad?" Wolfwoods hands go to his belt and with a soft clink of the metal it comes fastened. Your eyes flicker to look towards the door to make sure that no one was about to walk in on the scene that'd put Judas’ sin to shame when you're snapped out of your thoughts.

"Pay attention sweetheart, you were doing so good before, what happened?" The mask of a holy man cracks and gives way to something cockier, more taunting, more...Wolfwood.

"Unless you need scripture to keep your focus?" he works to undo the button and the zip of his dress pants as he tilts his head.

"Then here's something for you, 'the serpent said to the woman. “For God knows that when you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” When Eve saw that the fruit of the tree was good for food and pleasing to the eye, and also desirable for gaining wisdom..' "

He frees himself from the confines of his pants. You feel your mouth water and although your knees are starting to hurt from kneeling for so long you have a feeling you're about to get your real communion.

" '...and she opened her mouth, and took.' "

In beat with his preaching you let your mouth fall open. In all honesty, you get it now. You get how appealing that lush fruit must have been to Eve, you get why even after being promised paradise, she gave in to temptation. The weight that settles on your tongue as Wolfwood presses into your mouth makes your eyes roll back and an involuntary moan escape your throat. Wolfwoods breath stutters.

"God..." He groans and if your mouth wasn't currently full you might have made a witty comment about using the lords name in vain but a quick hand lacing through your hair from Wolfwood serves well enough to sever whatever thought had flitted through your mind.

You flatten your tongue and take more, allowing as much as you can to the back of your throat but when tears prick your eyes and you gag slightly on the sensation he pulls you off with a wet pop. You whine slightly at loss before Wolfwoods hand grabs your chin while he uses his thumb to wipe up the drool leaking from your lips that you hadn't realized was there.

"Patience, don’t you listen to a word I say up there?” he muses, you sheepishly look up at him through your eyelashes and it’s answer enough. He pulls you back in front of his cock, "Be good then, swallow every drop and I might forgive you"

You don't have much time to argue has his hand guides you back. You're more prepared this time, the way you sit on your knees...you’re a picture perfect saint and who's here to judge you for your sin anyways? Wolfwood? Sounded like a set up to a joke.

"Fuck, yeah baby just like that. So good-" His words break off with a grunt and his hips stutter forward, he pulls your head forward and your reach up to steady yourself with his thighs. He rocks his hips to your mouth as he face fucks you in the middle of the church. When his breathing speeds up and he mutters out a sting of gentle curses you know he’s close. You close your eyes and let him use you as he spills down your throat. You're desperate to show him you can listen, you swallow down as much as you can trying to not let a single drop of cum hit the floor.

When the rough handful of hair is released, you pull back to try and catch your breath, a worthless endeavor it would seem considering you're just as quickly being lifted up by your arm. You feel yourself being tugged up the steps towards the pulpit and make peace with the fact you're officially the worst Catholic ever...well besides the priest who's currently the instigator of this depravity.

"Not done yet sweetheart, the grace of god doesn't come with a blow job surprisingly" Wolfwood huffs amused as he presses down on your shoulder to force you to bend of the wood stand.

"Are you even a priest?" wrong question you guess because Wolfwood makes an irritated noise.

"Aren't you supposed to be repenting?" His hands grope at your thighs spreading them apart much more slowly than you'd like, as if he's savoring it...reverence you think.

"Father-"

He chuckles lowly at that.

"Father" he imitates "you let that name fall from your lips like it doesn't turn you on just to say it"

His fingers ghost over your thighs, then around the area you want him most before sliding up under your shirt to explore flesh. It's so hot in the church and when you peer out across the wooden pews you see the stain glass window casting rainbow light that sprawls out across the floor all the way up to your body.

"Focus on me" Wolfwood corrects your wandering mind by nipping along your neck and your body instinctively shudders against him. You press your hips back to feel his growing hardness pressed against your ass. His hands slide your shirt up over your head and he begins to focus on trailing kisses along your back.

"Thank you, lord," His lips move against your shoulder blade.

"For delivering this sinner unto me, so that I may show them rapture."

His fingers hook along the hem of your pants and tug them down your legs until they rest right at your knees.

"Despite that, I must confess, I have sinned."

His fingers trace along your entrance before slowly sinking in. You groan and press your head to the wood in front of you, fingers scratching against the surface.

"I have lusted for someone of my own congregation. I have imagined them kneeling for me and I worst of all I have imagined me taking them, devouring them until there is nothing left to fill them but me"

Another finger lazily joins the first and he begins a slow rhythm of pumping them in and out. You attempt to wiggle your hips back to chase the feeling, but his other hand keeps your waist flush against the stand.

"But I am only a man so with my mortal body I will show them euphoria"

You feel his fingers pull out and whine at the loss only to feel the blunt head of his own cock begin to line up with you.

"Amen"

Wolfwood doesn't give you much more warning before roughly pressing in. You moan as he sets a backbreaking pace, thankful that he at least prepped you before. He's leaned over your body; his hair tickles the back of your neck slightly as he pants in your ear. You imagine your own noises can't be much better as his left hand, the one he's apparently wrapped in a rosary, comes up to catch your chin, two fingers press into your mouth as he supports your head. His other hand stays at your hip, bringing your body back against his with every thrust.

It's so hot in the church, sweat beads along your body and you can feel your hair beginning to stick to your forehead. Your mind feels foggy and you lap absent mindedly at the fingers invading your mouth. Wolfwood groans and pushes you down further against the stand and it'd be uncomfortable if you could focus on anything other than the priest fucking your brains out. He produces an ungodly amount of precum, you can feel it making a mess between your thighs right as drool begins to leak from the corners of your mouth and bead down to the wood below.

Wolfwoods hand shifts from your hip to where a blooming warmth has begun. You nearly cry out with relief babbling nonsense around his fingers, hell maybe even a few prayers. His own mouth is becoming less of that of a reverend and more of that of a ravenous man, mouthing and biting at what he can reach. The fingers press deeper into your mouth and your feel the smooth beads of the rosary are you toy with them with your tongue. You're close, you tremble beneath Wolfwood and he catches on because both his hands pull away to once again fit along your hips. You nearly sob from the new lack of stimulation as he rocks into you.

"Beg for it" Wolfwood says so firm you'd have sworn he was once again leading congregation. Your mind is half way to mush right now so it doesn't take much convincing to do what he wants.

"Please please please let me, I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I repent" you babble out hoping you’ve said the magic words.

His hand comes down firmly on your ass as he thrust into you then finally finally reaches to touch between your thighs.

It sends you over the edge instantly, your legs trembling as you whine and moan, Wolfwoods own obscene noises match your own as he finishes inside you, letting you milk him for all he's worth.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, you become aware of the fact your priest is pressed up against your back, trying to catch his breath from fucking the ever loving daylights out of you. You whine slightly and Wolfwood responds by nuzzling his face against your neck.

"Are you okay?"

You do actually laugh at that one, letting your forehead rest against the podium.

"The priest I've been fantasizing about fucking me for a year now just has. This has been the best lay of my life and you want to ask if I'm okay?"

"You're awfully vulgar aren't you?"

You snap your head up to make several points about irony of the statement but when you turn you see a shit eating grin on his face. Your playfully hit his chest and groan.

"You've got to be the worst priest ever"

"Can't say I'd deny that claim" He leans forward and kisses you, you go into it easily but the taste of his lips remind you of something, when you pull away you raise an eyebrow

"Do you smoke?"

He shrugs and keeps his hands on your waist.

"I prefer to keep certain things in my life separated from the church"

"and me?"

"Consider yourself a special case." He smirks and takes hold of your chin between his fingers "Although I do hope this was enough to keep you coming to my sermons?" he ask

You swallow at the dark look in his eye and place your hands on his chest.

"and miss the holy word? Perish the thought"

He chuckles lowly at that as your hands begin to play with the collar of the cassock he wears.

"Although Father, I fear I may not have properly confessed."

He raises an eyebrow and eyes you "No?"

You shake your head "See I only...repented for two out of three fantasy’s I had also mentioned being taken against the pews"

Wolfwoods hands tighten around his hips and his smile widens.

"Well...let's fix that, shall we?"

Author's note: ahhhh I'm back! I've been storin this little beauty away for awhile now. This is my welcome back post because I feel like I lost the way I wanted to organize and write for a little while and this was the first piece that got me back in the flow of things. I missed you guys! We're back baby! (I'll add my spacers in later I'm missin the files rn and I don't feel like searching for them)

#trigun x reader #trigun x you #wolfwood x reader #nicholas d. wolfwood #wolfwood x you #priest!wolfwood

59 notes · View notes

chorizoa · 7 months

Text

entrail of faith — könig x reader

i have not properly written a fic or a snippet in so long, and I am physically aching to do so :3 plus, been obsessed with this man for like 3 months straight and it is NOT letting up— so, let me be indulgent, and nasty, and vile, and awesome while I cook up literary genius. (pls do not read my stuff if ur a minor ily mwah)

i hope u like :3 (cuz if u do I'm writing more)

cw: mentions of sex, force, and kidnapping, reader is mostly oblivious, Konig is just nasty and I'm shameless about it

synopsis(sorta): König has been a little crazy stalker, and you finally get close enough for him to make a move

———————————————————————

Konig was a good man, a routine man. His mother and grandmother had beaten manners into him, and daddy had his face shoved into a bible every Sunday morning. Everything was intentional, down to the way he stored his razors, all the way deep down to the way he shamefully ruts into his calloused palm each night. It all mattered— obsessively mattered.

Konig was a good man, a strong man. He tried so hard to keep his thoughts pure, be gentle with himself and others— lumbering about as if he were an animal latched to a ball and chain, a monster in the eyes of rookies and civilians alike— but he tried.

He can kill a man in less than ten seconds without a weapon, five with. He can dismember a corpse, and make someone seem as if they had never existed to begin with— he isn't a man of softness, he isn't a man who deserves a gentle hand, only his own thick mits that've been stained with decades of blood.

He wasn't a man of softness—until he saw you. Effortless you. With your smile, the flowery trail of scent that tickled his nose in your wake, those fucking eyes— Konig tried to be a good man, but he wanted to so badly see them glossed over, heavy with arousal and desperation. How they'd roll when he—

Konig tried to be a good man.

— Sir? Are you ready to order?

Scheiße. Those eyes again, the way they fluttered— it was almost enough to distract him from the way that dingy little waitress get-up clung to your all-encompassing frame— and hearing the word sir so obediently drip from your swelled lips made his cock twitch in his pants. Thank God he'd opted for the cargos today, and thank him again because you were such a good girl, you'd never peek.

Not that you'd have a chance, he loomed over you even at seated height— forcing your eyes up to meet his, seeming just much too big for the booth he shoved himself in— but, he was still shameless in the way his eyes roamed over you. At least you had the assurance he'd tip well.

— Ah- Ja, sorry Kätzen..

He cleared his throat, nervously tugging at the lip of his black surgical mask, his eyes darting about behind thick sunglasses. You're so pretty— what was he doing again? Ah, right, food. He wasn't hungry, not for anything they had here, except for you— but that wouldn't be a suitable answer, no, not for a precious little thing like you.

He could practically taste the aura that rolled off of you, you were no whore.

— Coffee- black, please. If it's not too much trouble.

Of course it wasn't too much trouble, it was your job. He was cursing himself internally, saying such stupid things to such a lovely girl. It would be easier if you were stuffed with his girth already, crying and spluttering as you struggled to fit him properly— he wouldn't say stupid shit then, but then you giggle- oh, fuck, you giggle and all the sudden he needs a freezing cold shower.

— Of course not, sir, will that be all?

Sweet girl, you should know not to smile at a man like that. Not a man like him, especially when his mind is full of bending you over this table and ruining that pretty head of yours.

— Yes, thank you, schätzchen.

He hoped you didn't know German, he hoped you were oblivious enough to let the way he was ripping your clothes to shred with his eyes go unnoticed— and of course, because you're such a good girl, it did.

— My pleasure- I'll be back in just a moment.

You are so polite, so sweet and efficient. He'd been watching you for a time now, the way you'd bustle about the café, being so kind even when majority of the creatures in here didn't deserve your time of day, not like he did— no, not anything like he did.

If he had it his way, you'd never work again. He'd throw money at you like it was a religion, give you all the codes and numbers to every bank account in his name— let you go on a spending spree, spoil you with fine lace and even better food. KorTac paid him enough, and he didn't spend a dime unless he needed something— unless he was indulging in you.

If he had it his way, you'd be dumb and obedient, you'd placate yourself to being his sweet little toy— and, oh, how he'd reward you for it. He'd keep you full of his seed, and happy with whatever object caught your affections, he'd build a goddamn castle for you. He'd never deny you a thing, as long as you kept looking at him like the most important person to exist— even if you were just doing your job.

— Your coffee, sir— oh, and careful, I just had them brew it.

Oh, you're such a darling. Fresh coffee? Just for him? You might as well give him your ring size now, he hopes you want kids.

— Lovely, Schatz, thank you.

— Of course, enjoy.

He almost felt crestfallen as you placed the bill next to him, and sauntered away, but your swaying hips could heal even the most shattered bones. Angels above, you were such a perfect thing— so innocent and lovely, you'd need to be protected, you'd need to be saved.

The heat of the coffee was nothing compared to the widely gaped blood vessels under his skin— breath threatening to catch everything he got a glimpse of you traipsing about. He had to make sure you were well distracted every time he dove in for a sip, you couldn't see his face, not yet.

If he were a better man, a more confident man, he'd leave you his number. He'd clean himself up, start a good conversation with you— take you to a fine dinner, even though he so hated the idea of something so insanely public. If he were half the man he held himself as, he wouldn't be salivating over you in an empty corner of the café.

Konig tried to be a good man, but he was slimy. He was a pervert, a danger— he'd never harm anyone— save for the men whose blood stained his hands, but he'd found himself craving indulgence in dark fantasies more than once. He was nasty, he was a monster, but he wanted to be soft for you. Simply, he wanted you, but his therapist would strongly advise against it— counseling that maybe, just maybe it's not best for his obsessive psyche.

Whatever, you'd learn to love it.

He had his reluctant fill of ogling, the tightening of his pants becoming too much to ignore, and the clatter of dishes becoming grating on his sensitive ears— he had to leave at some point. His coffee cup had long run dry, and he hadn't had the courage to waive you over for another.

If he were a better man, he'd leave you his number, but a crisp hundred to cover the bill— and leave you a tip to keep you fed— would definitely suffice. He tucked it under his coffee mug shamefully, wishing he just had the sack to speak to you— but that irritating fear of rejection always held him just at arms length.

How badly he wished he could just take you.

Everything else that wasn't you was boring, the streets were dull and gray, and rain drizzled like piss— just another way for God to mock him, punishment for his lustful behavior. Father would have a field day with him, if only he knew.

He stuffed his hands in the pocket of his soft-shell coat, rain pattering against it in an almost melodic sound. Nothing like your voice, though, oh nothing like that sound.

— Sir!

See, nothing like it, and he can't stop imagining it.

— Sir, you forgot your phone!

Oh, oh, he's not imagining that.

He whips around almost too fast, seeing you skirt on your heels as you stop your quick advance in front of him— his phone outstretched in a waiting hand. You really were such a lovely thing.

— Oh! Gott.. thank you, liebling— would have lost my head.

He wished he sounded.. cooler, smoother. But, he sounded like an inexperienced teen, stuck in a giants body. Always cringing at the sound of his own voice, but you smile and his world just fucking shifts— he couldn't give a shit how he sounded.

— it's- it's no worry, sir, I understand that.

Oh, your laugh, it's so sweet. He wants to touch you, grab you and squeeze you.

— I wanted to thank you actually- for the tip, I mean.. that was very generous of you—..?

You pause, trailing off as you look up at him. You want something, oh what is it maus? Anything. Say it, tell him— Oh, you want his name. His name. He has to fight the grin on his face.

— König— and do not worry yourself, Maus, it is no trouble. You work hard.

Now he's nonchalant, now he's found his groove. Keep being so humble, keep pretending like you don't want him to shower you in his endless wealth; keep looking up at him with those eyes that would be so much prettier coated in tears as you gagged on his thickness.

— Well, regardless, thank you, König.

Fuck, the way those pretty lips move with the pronunciation of his name— and you didn't miss a single vowel, what a good girl, what a smart girl. Oh, how he wanted to praise you like the good puppy you are, a collar with his name attached would be so pretty on you.

— Truly, Schatz, don't mention it— but, uhm-

Ah, he trailed, his fingers fidgeting with the lint of his pocket. Did he say it? Did he go for it? Either she'd be creeped, and run, or she'd be flattered— maybe even accepting. He had to keep it black and white, or he'd explode.

— Do you mind if I give you my number, liebling? I'd uh- I'd very much like to see you.. more.

Oh, he sounded like a fucking fool, and you looked so cute and patient; he was so used to drunken one-night stands, or shooting blanks into his hand when one just wasn't enough— this was so much harder when you looked like a literal angel to him, and not some cheap bimbo.

So patient, he wondered if you'd be like that while he railed you— even when you couldn't take it anymore. You were blushing, and he wanted to add tears to it, you were nervously fidgeting with your fingers, and he imagined them around his cock.

— Not at all, sir..

Today's a beautiful day. A lovely day even, the clouds had split just for him to bask in the loveliness of heaven's light— you sweet angel, you had no idea what you'd signed yourself up for.

— Perfekt. Hand me your phone, little one.

And you did, almost eagerly, such a good girl already. Following his orders so nicely, of course you did, even unlocking it before you passed it over.

His fingers never felt so nimble over a touchscreen, typing in his contact as if it were as easy as breathing— you seemed so shy, so nervous, it only made him confident. You made him confident, and he couldn't get enough.

— There you are, send me a text later, hm?

He hands the phone back grinning, he'd reward her for being so compliant— maybe work her open on his fingers just for now, a window of opportunity was wide open for him, and you were blushing all innocent and star-struck in front of him. He could not wait to ruin you.

— Yes, sir- König.. I'll do that. See you later!

— See you, maus.

Oh, you're so cute. You're so shy and it letting him read you like a filthy book. He knew you hadn't been taken care of, he knew you desperately needed satisfaction— and he'd give it to you tenfold, a sweet little thing like you deserved it. Especially since you did such a good job of hiding it behind that precious little smile.

Those eyes, they told him everything.

-----

pt.2 :3

#könig x reader #könig cod #konig mw2 #omg i love him #cod konig #konig modern warfare #he's crazy and I'm living for it #i want him so bad #i desire him carnally #stalker :3 #bad nasty boy #Dirty man

114 notes · View notes

sumsworldz · 7 months

Text

Let me be your sin

Ellie williams x fem reader

Summary: You lived in an extremely homophobic town in the 80s, you never really thought anything of it. Being homophobic was right, or so you thought

Note: first fic please be kind!! 😞😞 Contains a lil bit of sexual content ( most likely will be smut in future chapters ) swearing, homophobia!! ( all to do with the plot ) ermm that's all I can think of but it they're is anything I missed please let me know it's highly appreciated!!

Wc: 1.6k

you went outside to look for some flowers for your art project, you roamed the familiar streets until you found the forest you and your friends normally hung out in.

The leaves crunched as you walked upon them, not minding your surroundings, you were to focused on finding the perfect flower.

As you walked, calm silence filled the air, the only sound was the crunch of the leaves and the occasional bird chirping. When all of a sudden you felt an arm snake around your waist and before you could respond to the situation, the person pinned up against a tree.

"Ellie?" you looked at the auburn haired girl in front of you "I gotcha good!" Ellie exclaimed,, "very funny, very funny but I need to get some materials for my art project" you say as you look at her, something felt different.

"wait no-" Ellie cuts you off "stay here"

,, "what?"you said quietly. Ellie leaned in closer as one of her arms were still snaked around your waist, the other had you pushed up against the tree. This wasn't normal, not for a girl.

She leaned in closer and mumbled "Let me be your sin" she said it quietly but loud enough for you to hear. "Ellie- what-" before you could fully answer Ellie cut you off by her lips connecting with yours. You blushed like crazy, this isn't normal but god it feels right.

She pulled away looking at you, you looked back at her "so?" She mumbled "Ellie.." you sighed "this isn't right" "but it can be"

Her words caught you off guard "Ellie I mean, if we get caught-" "we wont" she said sternly "I promise"

You sighed as you looked around "my mom said I need to be home in an hour" Ellie looked into your eyes, she was quite surprised you were alright with this "I can make it quick"

with that she started to bite down on your neck, you started to breathe heavier with anticipation. You never thought you would do this, let alone with a girl but it felt so right.

She continued to leave trails all down your neck as she moved to your breast, you blushed as she spoke "can I, I don't wanna make u uncomfortable or" "ellie please" you mumbled as you put your hands in her hair "yes mam" she said sarcastically which made you giggle.

Before she could even start, you realised that kids hung around in these parts often. "Your so pretty" Ellie mumbled as her hand was holding onto the waistband of your bra, you knew you had to stop although you knew deep down you wanted this so bad. "Ellie.." you said quietly "mm?" ,, "I need to go"

And with that all the anticipation and neediness left the air, only confusion.

"Whats up?" Ellie asked quietly as she slowly let go of you completely. "I just remembered that my mom actually wants me home now" you lied "oh.. alright, well I'll see you around?" Ellie sighed, clearly dissapointed in the whole situation "yeah, bye ellie" you then walked off as she stood there.

You didn't want to leave her there, you wanted to finish what you both started, but you couldn't. You knew this was wrong and that if anyone caught you guys or found out, you would be in serious trouble.

You made it back home and unlocked your front door, you took your shoes off and walked into the living room to see your mom reading the bible, as per usual.

"Hey sweetie" she said quietly as she looked up from her book "you took awhile, did you find a flower" you completely forgot. "couldn't find one, I guess I'll just have to create one in my mind" ,, "I guess so, well get ready for church alright? Change your oufit too, maybe something more dressy?" she asked.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled "fine" as you walked out of the room, your mom was very Christian and if you weren't following any of the rules your mom would be furious. As for you, you only believed to make your mom happy.

When you made it to your room and started to take of your t-shirt and shorts by replacing it with a long dress. You hated the way your mom made you dress.

Once finished you then started to listen to music on your walkman, your mom wasn't the biggest fan of the music you listened to but you didn't care. You had posters all over your wall, depeche mode, nirvana, or just movies you watched. What you never realised is the amount of girls you had all over your wall. You didn't know who half of them were but you found them pretty and stuck them on your wall, normal behaviour for a girl hm?

You started to think about what you and Ellie had done, it felt so right and normal, she was extremely pretty too, but you wouldn't let yourself take this further it was against the laws but god you wanted too.

As you thought about the situation further your heard your doorbell ring it caught you by suprise."ill get it!" You exclaimed as you took your headphones off and ran down stairs.

You opened the front door to a familiar face "Ellie?" You questioned "can I come in?" you stayed silent unsure of what to say "please" she sighed, you could tell by her tone she was quite desperate and if you stayed at the door to long your mom would question it "fine but make it quick" you say short toned.

Ellie made it to your bedroom and sat down your bed making herself at home, she came around to your house often and it wasn't normally akward but this time was different.

You walked over and sat next her unsure of what to say until she spoke "listen, I'm sorry about what I done I really didn't mean-" Ellie spoke but you cut her off "no Ellie it's fine, honestly?" You said tone quite annoyed "no but seriously I'm sorry okay? I got ahead of myself" you couldn't help but blush at ellies words, you let out a short chuckle "you got ahead of yourself? So you've been thinking about this" you tease, you were still annoyed at the situation itself but couldn't help but tease Ellie about it, she's your bestfriend after all.

"What- no I didnt mean it like that, fuck" Ellie mumbled which made you laugh "so your into women huh?" You said bluntly which caught Ellie of guard "uhm- I mean, I'm not aloud too" Ellie sighed. You wanted to comfort her tell her it was aloud and that she would find love but you knew deep down society didn't accept people who loved like that.

"I'm sorry" you sighed. Your window was open and the chill breeze made ellies hair move slightly, she looked pretty even when she was upset, but you didn't like her, you weren't aloud too.

"No it's okay alright? I made a stupid mistake and i don't want this to impact our friendship" Ellie spoke as she fidgeted with the rings on her fingers, you sighed and told her "it won't" you wanted to say more but you just couldn't find the right words.

As silence filled the air you spoke up "I have to go to church soon, you can come if you want too I'm sure my mom won't mind" you looked at Ellie and she looked at you and that's when you realised that this feeling wasn't friendship, it was different, but you knew that they wouldn't go away unless you put up with them.

Ellie nodded and then spoke "yeah sure but uhm by the way.. you have a hickey on your neck" she giggled as she maintained eye contact with you. You immediately blushed as you looked up at her "what?!" you exclaimed "Ellie if my mom sees this she's gonna kill me!!" "Relax, relax, come here" you moved closer to Ellie as she looked around "got any concealer?" you nodded and pointed towards your desk.

Ellie got up and walked over to your desk picking up the nearly empty concealer bottle "you know, you dont need makeup" she said casually "well I do, to cover up mistakes like this" that caught Ellie of guard, I mean yeah the hickey was a mistake but did you really have to say it?

Ellie sat back down as she sat close to you and then applied the concealer on the hickey "you know, there's quite a phew" she giggled which made u blush even more "Ellie!! Seriously? Why are you only telling me now!!" You said playfully in which she replied "might aswell show them off" she was playing with fire here, ellie was making it extremely clear she didn't regret the situation at all.

"Your such a dork williams" you teased as she closed the bottle of concealer "and you love it" she finished and got up "well, let's forget about the situation mm?" She asked in which you nodded, the cool breeze filled your bedroom and your curtains swayed, you got up and looked at Ellie "well cmon, we gotta go to church"

You both walked out of your room and in that moment you both knew you had sinned, you felt like you should be ashamed but you weren't. it was for the right reasons, sometimes you can't hold back atleast not when a pretty girl is practically begging for your attention.

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #the last of us part 2 #the last of us #ellie williams x female reader #tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #viral

37 notes · View notes

notmorbid · 4 months

Text

demon copperhead, pt. 2.

dialogue prompts from demon copperhead by barbara kingsolver.

i was born to wish for more than i can have.

there's a shoe out there for every foot.

it's important to leave home and take a look around.

i could be very rich if i decide to extort.

i wonder how it would feel to like who you are.

old homecoming queens never die.

who died and left you boss?

sorry to say your secret is out.

i'm gonna see bad spray tans in my nightmares.

nobody rides you like you ride yourself.

i used to think i knew what hurt was.

i don't like owing anybody.

i didn't fully believe you'd come.

i've got a surprise for you later.

does some law say we all turn into our parents?

half of me is sorry. the other half isn't.

don't look for money to buy your life back.

before we were us, we weren't anything.

you look like a plaid pillow.

i thought i knew it all, in those days.

people find more ways to shut up their monsters than a bible has verses.

let's go steal a tree.

the tall weed gets cut.

a kid in my shoes takes what power they can find.

the moon went to bed already, so what's wrong with us?

i'm a horrible person. the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be.

you're too good for me. i don't deserve you.

it wasn't a secret, i just knew you wouldn't like it.

you use what you've got.

my stomach feels like i've been eating rusty nails.

some good's been known to come out of bad luck, if you face it head on.

where is the motherfucking compassion?

this is still your home, if you want to stay.

the adult in my life is me.

you look like you've seen the dead.

we were kids playing house.

come hang out any time. i could stand the company.

you have to quit being so nice to people.

i'm not one to shut any doors.

i cannot get the hang of living alone.

you should be as mad as i am.

do you want to sleep tonight, or do you want the truth?

they did this to us. you understand that, right?

of all the good people i know, you're probably the best one.

everybody needs to dump on somebody.

i've lived long enough to know that shit doesn't really bounce off.

kids aren't the problem. it's parents.

the only person you need to worry about is yourself.

i have my own honor.

part of being a mature person is knowing your skillset.

another week, another shitshow.

feel free to have a look around.

the support has to run both ways.

good people don't give up on the ones they love.

i've stayed alive so far by staying on my own feet.

i need you to wake up. sit up. we have to talk.

i love you. i would never, ever want to hurt you.

i want to draw your hands.

it's sunday. everyone's either in church or sleeping off their sins.

i want to kill you, but i'm not going to let you die.

are you testing me? or do you really not know?

if wishes were horses, we'd all have different shit to shovel.

a fallen hero shatters into more sharp pieces than you'd believe.

i thought i'd be better off without the fear.

there'll be no getting over this.

a selfish heart will keep you alive, at least.

a snake with venom is gonna bite.

going nowhere fast is a kind of juice.

trust the road, because nobody stays.

in the long run you're on the road with your ghosts. you're the ship, they're the bottle.

rehab is like being married to sickness in a lot of ways, really.

a good story doesn't just copy life, it pushes back on it.

you never were one to fall only halfway down the well, were you?

i let you go. it's what i had to do.

#rp meme #sentence starters #ask memes #inbox memes #rp prompt #rp prompts #rp memes #ask meme

28 notes · View notes

shion-yu · 4 months

Text

Saint Valentine's Day

Snzblr Valentine for @onetrickponi featuring their OCs Tíbor and Hazel! I really hope you enjoy this and it’s in character - I’m so sorry if it’s off (I know Tíb is super grumpy here and does Tíbor drink/sleep?? Idk but he does today) or too similar to your Christmas wav, it was supposed to be a drawing but it just wasn’t working out. If I ever get happy with the drawing I’ll letcha know tho ;) Thank you so much for organizing this @sneezydarliing!

Hazel thinks Valentine's Day should be a safe holiday. All the "Saint" in the Saint Valentine part has been long since replaced with the glamours of capitalism, so she doesn't expect it'll be as rough on Tíbor as Christmas was. She's hopeful, really hopeful as she does her hair into a twisted braid and ties it at the end. It's when she emerges from the bedroom that she hears it.

“Hiit-chooo! He’unggh-CHOO!... Ehhnngch... Hnngh-SHIEW!”

Yikes. Definitely Tíbor, and definitely the same brand of breathless sneezing that he displayed around the Christmas holidays. Hazel opens the study door to find him huddled in the dark with a soaked handkerchief to his nose. The curtains are closed, but the daylight is enough that she can still see him well. He's hunched at the top of the couch with a blanket around his shoulders and he looks goddamn awful.

“Hhi-TSHEW! Snnk. Guh. Don't you know how to knock?" Tíbor squints at her, a dirty expression on his face.

"It's my place, freeloader," she says, crossing her arms and smirking. "Valentine's Day isn't even religious anymore. I thought Jesus would spare you this time."

"The origins of the day are still religious," Tíbor snaps back, shooting her a glare. "Don't you have somewhere to be that's not watching me sn... Snee... SnUHT’DSHhhuih!"

"Ouch,” Hazel comments.

Tíbor groans and rubs his nose which already looks raw and red. The onslaught of sneezes makes him cough roughly; Hazel can tell he's already sneezed himself half hoarse.

"Tíb, maybe getting out of this room will help," Hazel suggests. "It's so... Cave like in here. Some fresh air might do you good."

Tíbor snorts rudely, and wetly. "Unless we're going to a Bible burning, I'll pass. I'm not exactly in the mood for other people." His nose scrunches up, his eyes squinting, and Hazel knows he's about to start again. He keeps taking shaky, sharp gasps like he's about to, but then nothing happens.

"It's better to let it out," she points out.

"Like it's my choice," Tíbor snaps. "Fuck you - HeHh’UuSHHHuh! Atchhhh...Heitt’CHIUU!"

"There you go,” Hazel says approving at the tremendous sneeze that Tíbor finally manages to release. “Doesn't that feel better?"

"Fuck you," Tíbor repeats solemnly. His eyes look swollen and Hazel feels just a touch of sympathy for him.

"You need to come up with some new comebacks," Hazel says. "Fuck you is getting really lame." She bounds off to the bathroom, where she can still hear Tíbor sneezing tremendously in the other room, poor guy. She finds a box of tissues under the sink and brings it to Tíbor, who's blowing his nose into his soaked handkerchief. "Toss that," she says distastefully. "It's not doing you any good at this point." She hands him the box of tissues, which Tíbor quickly utilizes.

“Nngxxxth! Nngu’zzetCh! Hizzz’shhiu! Ett’NGXTIU!”

"Holy shit," Hazel says. "Ah, sorry. Just shit. Plain, non-holy shit." She giggles a little despite Tíbor's look of disgust.

"I'm glad this is funny to you," he snaps. "No really. I'm so, so... Glad... Ht'kshht!"

"Alright, that's enough," she sighs, sitting on the edge of the couch and handing him a tissue. "I'm sure you're miserable, so just relax. Do you need anything? Besides this day to be over."

Tíbor blows his nose and then coughs a few times into the tissue. He doesn't have quite the same presence to him when he's like this, Hazel thinks to herself. "Dunno,” he groans.

"Tea?"

"...If you think it'd help."

"Tea always helps," Hazel said confidently, although she wasn't so sure how demon biology worked. Then again, tea was about comfort more than anything for humans anyways, so it should work the same. She stood to go make him some in the kitchen. "Wait here."

"Not going anywhere," Tíbor replies sarcastically. Indeed, she knows he doesn't move because she can hear him sneezing from the bedroom the entire time she brews them each a cup of black tea. When she returns Tíbor looks exhausted. "This is your fault," he accused her. "I wouldn't have to be here still if you just made up your mind."

"Fine. I wish you'd stop sneezing before your brains drip out of your nostrils, assuming you actually have a brain. That good enough?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Drink up."

Tíbor manages about half the cup before he shoves it hastily in Hazel's direction. "Hazel, I'm gonna-" She barely grabs the cup away from him before he starts sneezing again.

“Hhh-hekgxt! KeTCHhhsu! ETCHhhhiu! Ha-ETCSCHEW!!"

"Gesundheit," Hazel says.

"Thought you said tea would help," Tíbor whined, sniffling into yet another tissue. He's going through them like hot cakes.

"So finish yours," Hazel says, handing the cup back to him. "It's tea though, it's not a sedative."

"That would be fucking amazing," Tíbor mutters. He finished the cup anyways. His eyes are drooping tiredly.

Hazel takes the empty mug away from him and places it on the bedside table. "Have you rested at all?"

"Not really," Tíbor says. "Haven't been able to stop - nn'gshhu!! - sneezing."

"Thanks for the demonstration," Hazel smirks. "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Tíbor yawns. "You sure that tea wasn't a sedative?" He asks, lying down on the couch. "Made me kinda sleepy."

"It's just comforting like that," Hazel informs him.

She stands up, ready to start her own day that doesn't involve babysitting a sneezing demon. She walks to the door, two empty mugs in hand, and is nearly gone when she hears a very small, "Thanks," from under the covers.

Hazel bites her lip and smiles. "No problem. Sleep well, Tíb."

#24snzvalentines #snzblr #snz fic #other people's ocs #snz ocs #oc: Tíbor #oc: Hazel #snz #sickfic #snez

23 notes · View notes

beanghostprincess · 8 months

Note

Opinions on Sanuso ?? 😁

this is like asking jesus his opinions on the bible but okay i'll answer your silly question (-> said by someone literally desperate to answer this question. thank you.)

sanuso, to me, is the most domestic and realistic ship when it comes to sanji. of course, usopp too, but i'm focusing on the one who has more ships than fights in this show. dude is shipped with everybody (as he should be. sanji deserves all the love). what i mean by this, is that their personalities match perfectly:

they're both insecure and have self-worth issues, but cope with them in different ways, and the reason why they're like that is their different but oddly similar pasts if you think about it!!

sanji has... a fair amount of trauma. my poor boy. he was born into a family that constantly told him he was weak and undeserving of love. he was abused, physically and mentally, and he lost the only one who truly made him happy. then he finally made it to the east blue, but even if zeff's a great father (we love you, king) his views on strength and masculinity obviously had a lot to do with sanji's personality. he had to learn to cope in silence, to deal with pain like a man, and to sacrifice himself for others every damn time, not only because he's too kind for his own good, but also because he doesn't think he deserves to be a priority.

on the other hand, usopp was born into a loving family, but his father and role model disappeared and his mom died when he was still very, very young. he had to cope on his own, but at least he had kaya. and the village. right? however, he has spent his whole life pretending and lying and not acting like himself because he doesn't like himself. because he dreamt of bigger things and he was nothing compared to the fantasies he told kaya about.

sanji is the dream usopp seeks, and usopp is the domesticity sanji needs.

sanji sacrifices himself and deals with pain in silence like a man. usopp lies and hides and runs from the truth because he thinks he's not good enough.

so here we have these idiots who do not love themselves but love everyone else with the biggest hearts we've ever seen.

and, you know, people don't ship sanuso as much as they ship other pairings. and i'm not gonna go into the whole "actually, usopp's ships are underrated because usopp himself is underrated and it has to be with him not following stereotypes and normativity regarding his looks and personality in shonen manga" but it's literally just that. i'm so, so sure the ship would be more popular if people actually stopped and valued usopp more... not gonna go into this. sorry. i just love him too much to not defend him to death all the time.

so... the thing about sanuso that makes them so special to me:

they understand and complement each other in a way i think no other mugiwara would understand, and they know how to deal with each other's pain.

(i know this is just my opinion and not an analysis, but i'm annoying when it comes to sanuso so i'm just gonna keep writing until my hands fall off!)

their personalities are... different. like. not "opposites attract different" but... different.

sanji masks his insecurities by acting like the gentleman he already is. he just hides his past and, when the situation comes, he always sacrifices himself but never says the reason why. he covers the fact that he sees himself as undeserving of living and being a priority by putting others first, using his "prince-like/gentleman" facade. we see this with women, mostly, but he's always giving and never taking. he isn't selfish. in fact, he's selfless to a worrisome extent (thriller bark, for example. skypiea, too). but he masks all of this just by saying he's strong enough to take it! man enough to protect everyone! and both can coexist, but it's pretty obvious that he wants to feel useful and loved and the use of self-sacrifice shows us both at the same time.

usopp, on the other hand? he's more fond of running away from his problems and hiding and using his "god/warrior" facade to cover all of his hatred for himself. hatred that not only comes from his past, but also from being surrounded by men who are stronger to an insane extent that's even weird in the anime fantasy world they're in. of course he feels insecure! he's not selfish, per se, but he's kind of a coward and he has this survivor's instinct that sanji lacks. but also, when the time comes, his own morality and good heart make him act beyond that instinct and he's the one to save the ones weaker than him (dressrosa).

okay, so, they both feel very insecure. sanji about his masculinity and worth, and usopp about his strength and bravery. sanji deals with it by self-sacrificing himself and using his gentleman facade, and usopp does the same by lying and running away. sanji doesn't fear death if it's to protect others, and usopp is scared of dying but he would fight against it in some cases for the same reason.

this is why i think they understand each other on a deep, intimate level that other mugiwaras don't get. water 7 is the best example of this, and it will forever be (along with skypiea) the best arc to explain why sanuso works so well. i honestly miss pre time-skip sanuso. they were so, so good...

and it's not only that they understand each other deeply, but the fact that they know how to work with it! their personalities match so well...

sanji thinks before acting and makes plans and his whole life is this complex recipe he has used ever since he was a kid to achieve the expectations of others, hiding his past and his fears. sanji understands people. he can read them well and knows how to approach them with a gentle, caring behavior. he's a sweetheart. he sees somebody suffering and goes to help. or, you know, he can also be a bastard and act on impulse but that's him too, isn't he? (by the way, not gonna mention zosan's dynamic here because that's a complete analysis of them also and it would make this thing longer). his actions are thoughtful but they're led by emotions and empathy mostly.

usopp is more logical and anxious, though. he thinks things through and tries to find the better outcome for himself and whoever he's trying to save, but it isn't really helpful the fact that he's an anxious guy with the constant fear of failure and hurting himself or being seen as weak. but he approaches problems nevertheless when he needs to, and he understands people and gives them what they need at the moment, if that makes any sense.

sanji needs somebody who will understand him but also will give him what he needs at the moment, and usopp needs somebody who's thoughtful and will see beyond his insecurities. that's why they work!!! they make me ill!!!

they're, for me, one of the best ships because they can talk things out. well, of course, sanji's repressed ass would have thousands of issues with liking a boy and also with opening up to somebody. but after seeing usopp is the same as him? after noticing that usopp's just pretending to be confident and he's also worried about what sanji thinks of him? it's beautiful. they could have, as a couple, such a deep connection!!

sanji knows usopp can protect himself but still helps him out all the time because of fear of losing him, and usopp gives sanji enough space to let him open up without suffocating him. they don't rush things. their thing happens naturally. gradually. it's slow and gorgeous and sometimes a bit angsty from both sides, but... it's the magic of a relationship turning into romantic when it used to be only a friendship. i love them so much!!!!! aghhhhhhhh *bangs head against concrete floor*

not to mention, also, that their canon dynamic is hilarious. usopp taking care of sanji at gyojin island when he's being uh.... all over the place with women, but also being done with his behavior is so married couple coded. and also, their whole thing ever since they've known each other is so so funny. because usopp can be as chaotic as luffy sometimes, when he's actually a very logical guy (he loses brain cells when he's around luffy and chopper istg), and sanji has to deal with it. and sanji is calm and collected but a fucking mess when it comes to feelings and love and usopp has to be the one to ground him. also, usopp teases him constantly when he flirts with women.

and, idk, their whole relationship feels very domestic and beautiful to me, especially after skypiea and water 7. i really do miss them there!! they're still boyfriends, though.

and also... gonna go into mbti stuff right now, kay? i love, love, LOVE sanji being an enfj and usopp being an entp:

-> ENTPs and ENFJs are both Extroverted, Intuitive personalities, meaning they tend to enjoy being around others and focusing on the big picture. However, ENTPs are also logical thinkers, who enjoy pursuing new experiences, while ENFJs are empathetic and prefer following set schedules. ENTP personalities should engage in casual, personal conversation with ENFJs, while ENFJs should communicate clearly and logically around ENTPs. -> ENTPs should be sensitive to ENFJs’ feelings by addressing issues gently and helping ENFJs feel safe enough to share their thoughts openly. ENFJs should work to focus carefully on the facts of the situation and avoid overly emotional expressions around ENTPs.

NOT TO MENTION SANJI IS 1W2 AND USOPP IS 6W7 AND THEY MAKE ME GO INSANE CRAZY I'M UNWELL-

but yeah, you can say i like sanuso a fair, normal amount! :)

(i'm not normal)

i just love how domestic and genuine their ship feels. because unlike their other ships, focusing mainly on either sexual tension or painful pining and devotion, these two have such a natural and sweet dynamic... it kind of reminds me to usopp and kaya, too! perhaps that's why it works so well (in this blog we support and love both ships. usopp has two hands!).

10/10 great awesome ship. they give spiderman x gwen stacy but maybe that's just me and my fantasies of them doing the spider-kiss with sogeking.

#uhhhhh i could write more #i feel the need to write more but i realized halfway that this is not supposed to be an analysis #oops #i love sanuso a normal amount hahahahahahaahaha #black leg sanji #usopp #sanuso #one piece #sanji x usopp

35 notes · View notes

cgsf · 1 year

Text

Men's Hockey (RPF) fanfic recs — Connor/Leon

••••••

"he's no jacob from the bible (but damn he made me pray)" 🔒 (M) by softnoirr | 8,567 | He fell in love with his best friend. He fell out of love with the thing they did together. He broke like a puppet crumbling under its strings.

"freight train running" 🔒 (E) by adeleblaircassiedanser | 1,607 | Right now he cares roughly zero about anything except Leon’s warm hands on him, the way he smells and tastes like he showered and used Listerine and shaved just to be waiting here, waiting for Connor. “Sit down,” Leon says. “I want to blow you. You look so fucking money.”

"The Great Escape" 🔒 (E) by marmolita | 6,809 | Sometimes you just need to drive across Canada with your girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend, your girlfriend's girlfriend's boyfriend, and a couple of dogs.

"circle the drain" 🔒 (T) by blaahaj | 3,431 | “Listen.” Connor leans right up to the mic. “If there’s any kind of—anybody, studying time travel out there, I’m stuck in a time loop, okay? I’m stuck and I don’t know what else to do, take me off to a lab or whatever but I’m so fucking sick of—” “What the fuck,” Leon says, too loud.

"in the spaces no one looks" 🔒 (M) by anonymous | 18,873 | When the lights come back on after the Pride Tape presentation and the boys start to stir, Connor looks at Ebs, sitting on the floor in front of him, and he says, without thinking, "Is this about me?" Everyone within earshot freezes.

"All In" 🔒 (E) by marmolita | 29,414 | The website is simple and straightforward. The header reads Black Forest BDSM and there's a tasteful banner showing a set of leather handcuffs laying on elegant sheets. There's a photo on the side of a solidly built man in leather pants and a tight fitting shirt, cropped so that his mouth is visible but the rest of his face isn't.

"tonight we're gonna drown the sound out" 🔒 (E) by winglavender | 1,970 | Some days Leon still can't believe he gets to have this: Connor, his hair fluffed up from Leon's fingers, all his teeth showing, easy and relaxed in a way he isn't anywhere else.

"older, younger, both" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 1,875 | "You look really young this year." "I look the same," Connor says.

"living by the hour" 🔒 (M) by notthequiettype | 1,233 | "Good birthday?" Leon hums, and starts opening up Connor's slacks.

"the weakness of wanting anything" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 6,323 | "I can't believe you didn't tell me you had an exit strategy," Leon says, and taps the lit button to keep the doors from closing. "I didn't," Connor says, and steps in. "I just got tired."

"this year" 🔒 (NR) by notthequiettype | 409 | Connor had been saying, this year this year this year for so long now, a prayer that had lost specificity a long time ago.

"green in your love" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 6,151 | How it could have, should have, and did.

"green as weeds" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 6,671 | Connor knows he shouldn't go, that even if Leon's been nice enough to him, gone out of his way include Connor in team stuff more enthusiastically than Connor was used to, it was still different than going to his house, going to a party, going to a party at his house.

"love me mercilessly" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 2,309 | It's not usually like this.

"the consensual reality of ordinary life" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 3,779 | Two years ago, the bland domesticity of a routine would've sent Leon into a spiral.

"show me how to be your boy" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 3,535 | "I'm good," Connor says, when the hot surge of it settles into an ache for more. "You're always good," Leon says, smirking against Connor's mouth.

"universal properties" 🔒 (NR) by stridents | 7,950 | The video has 400k views already. Or at least, this version on Twitter does, which seems to be a repost of an already-deleted account. The caption is just two eyes emojis, a shocked face, and Connor’s fucking Twitter handle.

"a brief, unauthorized guide to tending an exit wound" 🔒 (NR) by stridents | 10,121 | In the ten months between March 2021 and January 2022, Connor McDavid gets swept in the first round of the Stanley Cup playoffs, initiates a breakup, and is hit very hard on the head.

"legs and limbs" 🔒 (T) by stridents | 757 | “You’re unglaublich.” Connor says it soft and haltingly, because it’s new and unfamiliar and Leon’s. His mouth is refusing to cooperate, tongue sitting too close to his new teeth. “Very good.” Almost true. And besides – Leon loves him.

"The Sexual Adventures of McDavid (or How Connor Learns To Relax)" 🔒 (M) by carissima | 6,546 | Leon’s heart is racing as he steps into the shower and flicks the water on. It’s hot and the pressure is too high, his skin prickling as the water flows down his body. He ducks his head under the spray and tries to get his breathing under control. Connor just checked him out, he’s sure of it.

"(a kiss) to encourage" 🔒 (T) by carissima | 1,023 | “I don’t mind running,” Leon says, stepping off the machine and grabbing a bottle of water that he downs in one long drink. “You just need some motivation.” Connor groans and gets to his feet. “Nope. Nothing could motivate me to run.” Leon pats his shoulder. “We’ll think of something.”

"push and pull" 🔒 (T) by carissima | 5,415 | “Say you want it then,” Leon says, skating backwards and keeping his gaze locked on Connor. “Say you want the fucking trophy, Connor.” “I want the trophy,” Connor yells. It echoes weirdly in the empty space around them but he doesn’t care. “Are you happy now?” “Not yet but we’re getting there,” Leon says.

"dragging myself back home" 🔒 (T) by blaahaj | 4,021 | Connor doesn’t go to Cologne on a whim. He’s been thinking about it for a long time—since Leon announced his retirement from the NHL more than a year ago. Connor meant to go watch him play, told him so even, the handful of times they’d talked to each other. But the NHL season was what it was, and even when they were teammates Connor never followed Leon home for the offseason.

"four years, no calls" 🔒 (M) by blaahaj | 4,241 | Connor takes a swig of his beer and waits until Leon’s a safe distance away. This won’t be pleasant, but some things need to be said. “He’s not gonna fuck you, just so you know,” Connor tells Tyson, gently as he can.

"got the ceiling with the stars" 🔒 (E) by eversincewefellapart | 5,655 | “That’s so dope. You got a sugar daddy, huh?” Connor’s face goes hot extremely fast. “I — what? No?” Kailer finally looks up. “The rich older guy you’re dating drops thousands of dollars on gifts for you and takes you on vacations?” he says, and Connor hesitates before nodding. “Congratulations! You got a sugar daddy.”

"the most remarkable thing about you" 🔒 (T) by winglavender | 6,719 | "I was never going to get in the middle of what you and Connor have anyway. You know what I mean," Darnell waves a hand. "The dynamic duo, the two top scorers, the All Star legends, carrying the whole team on your very impressive shoulders. And that crush Connor had on you for years." Darnell shakes his head. "I just can't compete with that kind of bond." Leon is sitting down, but he feels like his skates just slipped out from under him. "What?"

"memory that beats like a drum" 🔒 (M) by notthequiettype | 1,581 | "You lead, I'll follow." Leon says it like it's easy. "Yeah," Connor asks, his voice kind of reedy from yelling on the ice. "That simple?" This doesn't feel simple, suddenly. It feels huge and complicated and maybe almost scary if Connor wasn't too tired to feel anything resembling fear. He wants it anyway. "Anywhere."

"the years of love's past" 🔒 (NR) by notthequiettype | 2,169 | Connor sent a gift. It was what you did when you were an adult and an invitation was extended to you, even if it was one you wouldn't accept. Couldn't.

"Can't Change The World (But Maybe I'll Change Your Mind)" 🔒 (M) by puckinghell | 11,006 | Leon knows he should maybe try to contact Connor, but he doesn’t really know what to say. The thing is, if it was anyone else, he’d text. He’d tell them it’d be okay – even though he has no clue – and to get through it and that he’s there for them. He’d then expect to not hear from them again. But it’s Connor, and everything is different, with Connor.

"the perfect blend" 🔒 (T) by carissima | 5,714 | “This your first time here then?” Darnell asks, reaching below the counter to pull out a loyalty card that he dangles in front of Holy Fucking Hottie. “Ten visits gets you a free coffee.” “I guess it depends whether the coffee’s any good then,” Holy Fucking Hottie says, his gaze flickering over to where Connor is sliding the lid on his espresso.

"if we make it through december (we'll be fine)" 🔒 (M) by softnoirr | 15,610 | “Are you uh,” Connor takes a breath, “Are you doing anything for Christmas?” Leon pauses, his hands stilling on the laces of his skates, but he doesn’t look up. Connor’s starting to develop a paranoia that he’s going to forget what Leon’s eyes actually look like.

"tonight the sky's alive" 🔒 (E) by anonymous | 2,371 | Leon grabbing his hand while they were out shopping in the city had been a new thing. Weird but nice, which basically described all of Connor’s friends. He guessed that was a consequence of focusing on hockey for so long.

"kiss me with your mouth open" 🔒 (E) by winglavender | 12,920 | "Why, are you offering?" Leon's still smiling, ready to make a joke of it again. Connor swallows. "What if I was?"

"take me back to places i feel loved in" 🔒 (T) by fishfoods | 1,637 | They'd had a conversation after that last doctor visit, a mess of words and comfort, hands held too tight. Connor could see it in Leon's eyes then. He wasn't going to ask. Connor should've known. He'd never, ever, ever ask. Someone else would've. Not Leon. Connor has one year left. One year. He's going to play, and then he's going to come back, and they'll figure things out from then.

"i know you're something else" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 4,274 | Connor’s never had a friend like Leon before.

"door number two" 🔒 (M) by blaahaj | 5,919 | “You this nice to all Hallsy’s hookups?” Leon asked. Connor shook his head. “You’re the only one I’ve met.” God, he really was new.

"came to win" 🔒 (M) by revanchist | 400 | Because he’s drunk, and because he’s not thinking with his head, and because it’s always harder at the scene of the crime to pretend the crime didn’t happen in the first place, he says, “Sometimes you’re so good I want to slap you.”

"be the one to set me free" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 31,327 | Connor tips his chin up and Leon's mouth is on his in the same breath, something slow and new and careful, exploratory, cautious, Connor's hunger for it simmering low and then roaring to life, hot and heavy in his belly. It's different than kissing Amanda, or Leslie, or any of the girls before or in-between, like it's touching something new. It feels like an itch being scratched that he didn't know was there at all.

"I'm not a sailor, I'm a captain" 🔒 (E) by LizzieMack | 1,940 | so connor mcdavid has a hot tub

"for control, grip" (E) by brinicles | 3,330 | Everything Leon does is foreign and fantastical. He comes back every fall and feels like something from another dimension all over again, something new, novel, a whole different hemisphere of frost boiled down into his blood, a frame that Connor can study endlessly: can watch and scrutinize and never really figure out, never get a handle on. This isn't that, though. This is just Leon being a little shit.

".500" (T) by brinicles | 4,647 | "Fuck," he mutters. "Hey," Connor says from the doorway. He stumbles again. "Fuck," he says again. (Mar 9 2020, EDM vs VGK: You can keep the game alive, but the season dies fast as the year goes on.)

"Better Than I Ever Even Knew" (E) by Lewsy | 13,185 | Connor gets it, has made his peace with the fact that most people find him painfully boring, but he’s managed to keep Leon around, so maybe it’s not that bad.

"and just for this moment (as long as you're mine)" 🔒 (E) by adoringsolitude | 5,815 | He digs his nails into his forearm in a desperate attempt to ground himself as he strains to catalog every sensation, knowing with absolute certainty that even if he manages to ask someone else for this someday, it won’t be as good as this.

"we’re only alive if we bruise" (M) by snowinthestars | 1,916 | Leon and Connor don’t really have personal space with each other.

"no dawn, no day" (T) by jalebibaby | 1,784 | Later, when his heart rate shoots up, and his lungs are on fire, trying to keep up with him pushing so hard to get back on the ice, he counts to twenty-nine.

"even when i lose i’m winning" (NR) by allthatsings | 1,109 | Connor helps an injured Leon get ready for bed during Round 3 of the 2022 Stanley Cup Playoffs.

"impulsivity" 🔒 (NR) by notthethequiettype | 791 | connor goes to germany

"the way things have a double life" 🔒 (M) by notthequiettype | 3,777 | connor decides to try playing it fast and loose. leon isn't handling it well.

"Two Minutes for Hooking" 🔒 (E) by Helenish | 5,271 | It used to bother him, being looked at, picked apart, but he’s used to it now. Part of the job.

"what we've made" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 6,683 | "Come to the house." "Aren't you sick of me?" "Not as sick as I'll be of the quiet."

"miracle summer" 🔒 (T) by Helenish | 2,748 | “I thought,” Connor says once, tucked in next him, drowsy. “When I first saw you coming off the Ferry, I thought you were summer people.”

"cherry bomb" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 2,469 | "Cherries are a little on the nose." Connor hums again, the end tilted into a question. "Fruit," Leon says, and lets his fingers graze higher, the soft skin of Connor's inner thigh.

"sure as the sea" (E) by littlelocaldreamer | 3,698 | They don’t do this. But Connor looks so happy, so carefree like he never is, and before he can stop himself Leon asks the girl, “When are we leaving?”

"if i'm not what you hoped" 🔒 (E) by winglavender | 10,425 | "Heard the Leafs lost tonight." "Yeah." Mitch pulls an exaggerated face. "Leading the whole game and then Connor's guy ties it up with a disgusting pass, absolutely filthy, and then scored the overtime winner." "That's rough. You want another one?" The bartender tips her head at Connor's half-empty glass; he shakes his head. "Who's your guy?" "Draisaitl, obviously." Mitch taps the rainbow-patterned 29 on Connor's arm for emphasis. "He's not my guy," Connor says.

"orbit" 🔒 (E) by withfeathers | 2,000 | Leon was one draft spot away from being on the other side of the ice. Not that he thinks about it much.

"when you find out" 🔒 (E) by nymhciv | 10,779 | It takes Connor a moment, blinking, to realise what Yamo is showing him. He sends work out pictures in the team group chat sometimes, they all do, a check in system that had been well established when Connor joined the team. Connor thinks that’s what Yamo is showing him, at first, wonders if he’s about to get shit for his form. Then the Connor on screen moves, sinks further into his lunge, brings his heel up towards his ass. They don’t send video in the team chat, but the team chat isn’t the only place Connor shares his work out routines. And Connor does post video on OnlyFans.

"love casts a shadow" 🔒 (NR) by notthequiettype | 645 | Leon thinks, after seven years, he should be used to it.

"cover to cover and unbound" 🔒 (M) by lighthousetowers | 24,659 | “That’s not the ending, is it?” Connor asks. “Uh,” Leon finds the spot where he stopped reading, “yes, it pretty much is. Last sentence: ‘Not made for each other, they are making each other.’ The end, I guess.” It takes a couple beats for Connor to speak. “Is it? The end? They’re still there. They’re still making each other.”

"say it, say it again" 🔒 (E) by lagerlout | 4,157 | “Where are we going?” Connor asks, lips brushing against Leon’s ear as they hit a speed bump. “Don’t know,” Leon says, eyes on Connor’s mouth as he brings a water bottle to his lips, “Don’t care.”

"but close ain't close enough" 🔒 (E) by lagerlout | 6,363 | “How come I have to be the girl?” Leon asks. Connor’s too disorientated from the heat and the blood rushing south, liquid fire in his veins with Leon’s breath ghosting over his shoulder so he blurts out, “Cause you’re the pretty one.”

"keep the bullet" 🔒 (E) by cuprun | 19,132 | “It’s not about the sex part. Like, that’s fun and it helps, but it’s more about, like,” Lauren pauses, really thinking about it, “giving up control. Letting someone else be in charge. Letting them figure out what he needs and give it to him without him having to ask.” She raises one shoulder in a delicate shrug. “He could probably explain it better.” Leon doesn’t get flustered, as a general rule, but he might now, at the idea of having this conversation with Connor himself. “And he’d want to do that with me?” “He trusts you,” Lauren says simply.

"Choke" 🔒 (E) by Helenish | 8,635 | “Maybe I don’t want my dick sucked,” Connor said reflexively, as Leon racked the barbell with a clatter, heaved a breath, a half laugh, and said, “Speak for yourself.”

••••••

"accessory to the rockstar" 🔒 (E) by unsay | 5,318 | It’s not a competition. Leon has seen nature documentaries, he knows about that; he and Lauren evolved to fill different ecological needs.

"the lightning on your breath" 🔒 (E) by notthequiettype | 18,073 | Connor says his name, this low, soft, "Leo," that's going to haunt Leon for the rest of his life, a moment pinned, and he leans in and presses their mouths together, slow enough that he gets to watch Connor's eyes drop shut, his fluttering lashes, to know that Connor knows exactly what's happening, not moving or backing away, laughing or shoving at Leon, just kissing back, opening his mouth against Leon's, and it's better than what happened when they were young when Leon was too cowardly to learn the shape of Connor's mouth against his, better than most of what Leon's had since.

"just the touch of your hand" 🔒 (E) by lagerlout | 3,463 | Connor's limbs slacken under Leon’s grip, brain short-circuiting, all systems fried except for a white-hot buzz of yes.

"better put that business to bed" 🔒 (E) by lagerlout | 2,870 | “Get it, Leo,” Connor rasps and fuck. Fuck, his voice. It’s almost completely gone, a throaty rumble two octaves lower than usual and Leon’s dick goes from mildly interested to rock-hard in three seconds flat.

Ongoing list that will be updated.

#fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #fic recs #leon draisaitl x connor mcdavid #mcdrai #mens hockey rpf #mens hockey

84 notes · View notes

small-strong-bookish-butch · 2 months

Text

I'm almost done reading The Handmaid's Tale, and I don't like it. I've never read it before, I know it's a classic, and I was intrigued enough to keep reading.

But.... God, where do I start? Ranty jumble below the cut.

Especially after Roe V. Wade got overturned, a lot of people were like "Ooooh, it's just like Handmaid's Tale!"

I Googled if Atwood is transphobic, and got mixed results.

Within the interview I read, she said she doesn't predict the future, she just reads a lot of history, which put a lot of the book into context....

I think, as someone who does not know a lot of history and isn't interested in history, a lot of the events in THT seemed to be just:

[Atwood in 1985 voice] "Ooooh, what if slavery [against Black people] in the U.S. happened to white women?"

The no-reading rule. Only used for their bodies. Punished by mutilating their hands and feet. Public lynchings, to put it bluntly. De-gendered (?) for 'running away.' All dressing the same. Not allowed to use their own names. Being sent to 'the Colony.' Being traded among men if they misbehaved.

There are probably many more examples I'm forgetting.

But what really got it for me was the mention of the "Underground FemaleRoad." Really?? You're going to basically name-drop the historical way that enslaved people could actually escape and give them and their allies no credit for any of it???

I know, I know, practically the definition of cultural appropriation is "a white person does something that POC have been doing for a while and doesn't credit them/takes it as their own invention", but like, seriously?!

She wrote this whole book about "oh no what if Bad Things happened to White women 😢😢😢" and didn't mention anything about like, slavery or colonization or imperialism or anything like this that's happened to people of color in history, let alone the US Slave Trade.

Uhhhhh what else....

A lot of the ways the book talked about sexuality and purity culture and Christianity felt very like.... a mix of dramatic irony, regular irony, and almost post-ironic?

Like, especially with the prayers— you could tell that the Aunts did mean it sincerely, but I couldn't tell how much Offred herself did (or would have) actually disagreed with the Biblical teachings if they hadn't been used to like..... oppress her into subservience or whatever.

(Like when she talked about how her mom was pro-choice and how she, as a teenager, was 'humiliated' by how her mom would like, go to pro-abortion protests and be proud of people's right to choose. My personal reading of it was that, had they not been in this new overdramatic apocalypse, Offred would still feel like that and not be pro-choice at all.)

I think I need to cite my sources on all that; like, most of the time, with how THT talked about [patriarchy, reproductive rights, 'women's' bodies, abortion, Bible verses, the paranoia of getting caught doing something wrong, etc.] I couldn't tell if the narrator was saying something ironically, or if it was meant to be taken ironically, or if it was supposed to be post-ironic, and we all— including the narrator— were supposed to understand that it had started ironically and had now evolved past that to mean something totally opposite its original meaning....

(Though honestly, I don't think the book or Atwood is smart enough to be as post-ironic as you'd think for most of it.)

The fucking. "Pen Is Envy." I wanted to scream. 'Aunt Lydia told us that. They were right. I see the pen and do feel envy" are you serious right now? Really?! Really. It's all so fucking absurd. To take Freud's words, who was well known as a pseudoscientist, and use it as a 'male privilege' analogy in the sense where it's logical??? Get real.

The Marthas were mentioned briefly as having brown skin, and I assumed, given the almost no context of any of it, that they're women of color who are like, housemaid slaves and aren't seen as good for anything else?

I don't remember any mentions about what happened to the men of color, anywhere.

Overall? I hated the book. I spent most of it waiting for it to get interesting, or even to feel like Offred gave any fucks about like, courage or anything meaningful (beyond surviving a room without a light fixture or whatever the fuck). I didn't like her as a character, I didn't think she was a useful narrator, I think there were whole swatches of things that were left out and unexplained, and the book doesn't make sense. Full stop. It doesn't make sense. I felt a sense of unease while reading.

Overall I interpreted the book to be very...... pro-gender- and biological essentialism and white supremacy and eugenics in a "white people can be the only people" kind of way, and I think Atwood's perspective is NOT well-clarified enough to be strongly against any of that in a way that is meaningful, let alone action-oriented.

#personal #the handmaid's tale #i have opinions #abortion #margaret atwood #reproductive rights #gender essentialism #biological essentialism #white supremacy #tw white supremacy #in this essay i will

9 notes · View notes

fuwaprince · 9 months

Text

On May 5th, 1962 Malcolm X said in Los Angeles during his Who Taught You To Hate Yourself speech:

"In order for you and me to devise some kind of method or strategy to off-set some of the events, or repetition of the events, that have taken place here in Los Angeles recently, we have to go to the root. We have to go to the cause. Dealing with the condition itself isn't enough. We have to get to the cause of it all or the root of it all. And it is because of our effort toward getting straight to the root that people often times think we are dealing in hate."

"Excuse me if I say so-called... it's hard for me to just outright say 'Negro' when I know what that word 'Negro' really means."

"Here your mother is being raped and you're not supposed to be emotional. Your women can't walk the street without some cracker putting his hands on her and you're not supposed to be emotional. If you say this, you're fed up"

"Twenty million black people don't even know their own language. Why? Because he took it away from them. Twenty million black people who don't even know the history of their ancestors. Why? Because he took it away from them. And if you're trying to tell them how thoroughly and completely they've been robbed, he says you're preaching hate. That's something to think about. Today you are coming out of college. You are coming out of the leading universities. You're trying to go in a good direction but you don't know which direction to go in. And if somebody tries to take you right to the root of your problem, they say that that man is a hate teacher."

"And then again if we tell you that 'Negros' are being hung on the tree or being shot down illegally, unjustly and those 'Negros' should do something to protect themselves, they say you're advocating violence. The white man is TRICKING YOU. He's trapping you. He doesn't call it violence when he lands troops in South Vietnam... He doesn't call it violence when he lands troops in Berlin. When the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor he didn't say Get Nonviolent. He said Praise The Lord, But Pass The Ammunition. But when someone attacks YOU... When someone comes at YOU with a club. When someone comes at YOU with a rope. When someone comes at YOU with a gun. Despite the fact that you've done nothing... he tells you, SUFFER PEACEFULLY... and how long can you suffer after suffering for 400 years? So I just want to clear up that little point right there, because he says we play on your emotions. And when you turn on your television tonight, or your radio, or read the newspaper- they're going to tell YOU that I was playing on your emotions. Imagine YOU a second class citizen."

"That's not getting emotional, that's getting INTELLIGENT."

"They put Moses in jail. They put Daniel in jail. Why you haven't got a man in the Bible that wasn't put to jail when they started speaking out against exploitation and oppression! They changed Jesus with sedition.

They said he was against Caesar. They said he was discriminating because he told his disciples go not the way of the gentiles- but rather, go to the lost sheep. He discriminated! Don't go to the gentiles, go to the lost sheep! Go to the oppressed... Go to the exploited. Go to the people who don't know who they are. Who are lost from the knowledge of themselves and who are strangers in a land that is not theirs. Go to those people! Go to the slaves! Go to the second class citizens. Go to the ones who are suffering the brunt of Caesars brutality."

"And if Jesus were here in America today, he wouldn't be going to the white man. The white man is the oppressor, he would be going to the oppressed. He would be going to the humble. He would be going to the lowly. He would be going to the rejected and the despised. He would be going to the so-called 'American Negro'"

"Let me tell you something- and I'll tell ya: while you say we hate white people, we don't hate anybody! We LOVE our own people so much they think we hate the ones who are inflicting injustice against them."

#idk if anybody transcribed it but there are some powerfulquotes there #malcolm x

18 notes · View notes

pancake-breakfast · 1 year

Text

Trigun Book Club! Trigun Book Club! (@trigunbookclub)

Way back in the mid-2000's, a young Pancake Ray was working their first job out of college at a local Giant Chain Bookstore and discovered that no one else working the store cared if they spent their breaks sitting on the floor in front of our rather impressive two and a half bays of manga we had and just... read them right there. Much manga was read, and among the titles read were both Trigun and what was available at that time of Trigun Maximum.

I remember very little from that initial read aside from 1) confusing fight scenes, and 2) enough deviation from the anime (which I had recently watched) that I didn't really have a place for at that time. The anime had wormed itself into a very special place in my heart, so between the differences and just not being in a good place spiritually to handle some of its more religious themes, I wasn't really sure what to do with it. It probably didn't help that, back then, the manga was nowhere near finished.

I still read every volume we had, because gods, I read anything that looked even remotely interesting on the manga shelves at that time.

Now, an older and (debatably) wiser Ray is going to be reading these along with the rest of the Trigun Book Club Denizens. But first, I want to start of with a quote from the notes in The New Oxford Annotated Bible (3rd Ed.) in their prelude to I Kings, which is what I'm currently studying:

There is, on the other hand, no neat correlation between sin and judgment in Kings, largely because of the compassionate character of the Judge who accepts the repentant sinner, who does not desire final judgment to fall upon his creatures, and who is always ready to find cause why such judgment should be delayed or mitigated.

It just seemed like something to keep in mind when thinking about the character of Vash... but YMMV.

Onward!

Stream-of consciousness thoughts for Trigun Vol. 1, Chapters 1-3 below. (More detailed thoughts will be their own posts.)

Trigun Volume 1 Covers

Ok, first off... I love the alternate covers Nightow did. The stark contrast between the serious cleanliness of the covers and the crazy tongue-in-cheek alternate version really sets the tone.

LOL, "Deep Space Planet Future Gun Action!!" Yep, that's it. That's all it is.

How have I never seen Meryl as Luke Skywalker before??

Chapter 1: The $$60,000,000,000 Man

This poster says "Appearance: Unclear," but it also has a picture of him. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Vash's face is so goofy. It's like if his world isn't ACTIVELY ON FIRE, he doesn't know how to be serious. I do like the belts. When watching S1 of Stampede, I missed the belts. I hope S2 has more belts. Something something fetish gear.

I love that there's actually a tally of all this on a wall somewhere. SEVENTY FREAKING TWO MURDER CASES.

Kid: "Mom, I want a gun." Mom: "You already have a gun at home." The Gun At Home: *only shoots toy darts when you, a child no older than 8, are living in the Space Wild Wild West and think you need real bullets*

I love how quickly Vash goes from "OMG FOOD" face to SERIOUS EATING FACE.

And it's immediately followed by this CLOSE-UP ASS SHOT. WHYYYYYY???

I don't know who this cloaked guy who's cocking his shotgun by shaking it vertically is, but I love his stupid hair.

Yeah, you don't get to kill the protagonist THAT fast....

WW isn't even here yet and Nightow's already filling panels with man-tiddies...

LOL, he counted ALL the bullets in that page that was... just... it was just bullet fire. Somehow he counted them all. For every gun. And now everyone else has to leave stripped down to their boxers.

I love that someone, somewhere decided they needed to have a pinball machine all the way out here in nowheresville.

Ah there are the girls. Milly looks so worried about the catcalls, but Meryl? Meryl looks bored.

Chapter 2: Looney Tunes

Ok, first off, this chapter title just makes me think of ep 12 of Stampede when So-and-So starfishes his way out a window before floundering in the air for a second of hangtime and then falling.

Exposition! Huzzah!

Population decline slowing = humans adapting to the new environment. Resilient little buggers.... I know someone who probably HATES that statistic.

So, basically... before July, Vash was small beans. Or going by another name.

Aaaand straight into his goofy poses. This man is made of rubber, I swear.

LOL, why is he talking in French?! I guess a guy's gotta have his hobbies....

But Meryl... I'm with Milly here. Is it really that dangerous??

Ah, yes. The ol' "they'll understand me better if I just speak louder" trick. A favorite of Americans traveling in non-English-speaking countries when said American hasn't bothered to learn even the tiniest bit of the local language.

Current favorite Vash Chaos Pose:

LOL, "MY DEEPEST APOLOGIES FOR INTERRUPTING THIS CONFUSION." This feels like such a Japanese thing to say. It's like, "I know you're all engaged in frantic chaos right now, and because you're engaged in it, it must be very important to you, so I, the intruder, must offer my sincere regret for interrupting it."

I wonder how this version of Milly will merge with a Milly who was crazy enough to volunteer for the position of Meryl's partner in Stampede.

This Vash is definitely not so keen on being caught, even in the face of suffering women and children.

But here he is, protecting the very people who had guns in his face a second ago.

Chapter 3: Hard Puncher

Current favorite Vash Serious Pose:

Ok, I have thoughts here.

Sooooo many shonen speed lines....

Current favorite Vash Action Pose (That intense side eye is *chef's kiss*.)

Man, poor Gosef. But Vash standing over his prone form looks badass.

LOL, the Insurance Girls finally have everyone's attention, and.. they look like they don't want it anymore.

Hahahahaha, there goes the bounty. Can't put a bounty on a natural disaster. The federal government has officially labeled him "not human." *pats Vash*

Actually, he looks kinda happy about this. I guess not having a bounty on your head anymore might do that.

He can still have the head-pats.

The difference in his expression when greeting Meryl versus greeting Milly....

For as terrible as Mr. Nebraska himself is, I always appreciated how much he seems to genuinely care about his son in his own weird way.

Gods, I'm glad every other version got rid of his gun legs, though. That's... a Thing, and I don't like this Thing.

And just like that, Vash goes from "concerned about these girls constantly being around him" to "mildly intimidated by them." Beautiful.

(Thanks to @trigun-manga-overhaul for their translations and making this series accessible!)

#i could write more... but it's late and i have other things to do so three chapters is good for tonight #loving nightow's comedic timing in all of this #i'll allow the criticism from folks who found stampede to be not goofy enough just based on these three chapters #although i'm sure the goofiness is just here to make the pain more painful later #trigunbookclub #trigun manga #volume 1 #pancake thoughts

27 notes · View notes