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#but like anon are you good
pokeberry5 · 6 months
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If you are still taking requests, may I please inquire if I could have a drawing of Jason and Tim working together as a team, please?
this probably isnt exactly what you had in mind, but i think that red robin and batboy from that one death in the family movie ending are so precious
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the cowl in question:
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bonus:
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girlboyburger · 6 months
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I have a cow oc and I’m having a lot of trouble drawing there face any tips?
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i reaalllllly recommend doing studies! don't be scared to trace some photos to get a feel for the shapes, or just go nuts and make em cartoony! i personally try and pick out species-specific traits to emphasize when i draw furries, like a cow's barrel shaped body and small mouth, or the canine lower teeth before fangs and rounded triangle ears on wolves.
i'm not very good at explaining my process, but i hope this helps!
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koshercosplay · 2 months
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Neil gaiman is a Zionist :(
this is so funny because if you google "neil gaiman zionist" nearly all of the links are to unsourced tumblr posts or responses to a single tweet from 2015 that just acknowledges Israel's existence
I see gaiman has once again committed the heinous crime of Being Jewish When Israel Is In The News
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nadvs · 6 days
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okay so basically i was thinking that rafe and reader just had a kid and rafe has been neglecting them and reader for whatever reason and then topper or anyone comes over and since the kid hasn’t seen rafe in so long they end up calling them dad which rafe hears and gets mad at for a bit and then someone puts him in check and he apologizes to reader and starts putting more effort into the family🩷
🍓anon
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
You don’t understand how Rafe can be so heartless.
Whenever your son smiles at you, dimples just like his father’s, you wonder how Rafe doesn’t miss him. How he can drift in and out of your home, hardly ever present.
Your relationship was once so joyful. You ran in the same social circles, eyes on each other at parties, when your mutual friend Topper finally introduced you to each other.
You hit it off and started dating and then, six months into your relationship, your life changed forever when you stood tense in your bathroom, a positive pregnancy test in your hand.
Rafe was shaken at first. He was shaken for a while. It wasn’t until he saw the screen at your first ultrasound that he could fully understand that you were bringing a human being into the world.
And then he settled into the role, feeling genuinely hopeful about the future for the first time in life. He found a beachfront condo for your growing family. He filled it with furniture. He started talking about all the things the three of you could do together.
But as your son grew, the stress got to the both of you, leading you into more and more arguments with each other. Rafe became cold and distant.
You tried to talk sense into him, tell him that if he was falling out of love with you, that was fine, but he had to love your child. Regardless, Rafe kept drifting away from both of you, your once solid family breaking apart and deteriorating.
One afternoon, you text Topper asking if he can buy and drop off diapers. Rafe was supposed to do it but he hasn’t been home in days. You don’t want to bother calling him, knowing he’ll just disappoint you.
When he comes by, you can see it in Topper’s expression that you look just as sad as you feel.
“You okay?” He’s standing outside the door, handing you the box of diapers.
“I’m so tired,” you admit, voice cracking. “He’s barely even home, Top. It’s like he’s checking out.”
Your son waddles towards you, arms spread out. You wipe away your tears and pick him up, forcing a smile for him.
When he looks at Topper and babbles dada, your heart shatters.
“That’s not dada,” you say, kissing your son on the cheek. You look to your friend. “Sorry. I’m kind of a mess right now. Thank you for dropping these off.”
Rafe is at the club, drinking a scotch and gazing out at the golf course, when his phone starts buzzing, Topper’s name on his screen. He answers with a tired drawl.
“Hey, man,” he hears on the other line. “You gotta get your shit together.”
“What?”
“Your girl’s not doing so good. And your kid thought I was his dad.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“She asked me to buy diapers,” Topper says. “Shouldn’t you be doing that?”
Rafe can only angrily hang up, his blood running hot. You’re calling other people for help? Really?
He finds your name in his phone and calls you. But you don’t answer.
It’s late when he finally comes home, carrying two big grocery bags.
You just got your son down to sleep and rush to the door, shushing Rafe as he walks in. He’s pissed off that the first thing you do when you see him is shush him.
“What’s all this?” you ask, looking at the full, heavy bags he’s carrying.
“Apparently, you got someone else to bring you diapers,” he says bitterly, “but I got everything else we need.”
“How would you know what we need?” you say tersely.
“Don’t give me shit right now,” Rafe mutters, placing the bags on the kitchen counter. He starts to put things away, loudly opening cupboards and drawers, when you grip his arm.
“You’ll wake him,” you scold. Rafe turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing.
“I did something good,” he says. “Can you show some goddamn appreciation?”
“Am I supposed to thank you for buying us food?” you snap. “It’s your job.”
Rafe hangs his head, sighing deeply as he rests his hands on the hard marble counter. You’re expecting him to keep arguing with you. But his next words come out strained.
“He thought Top was his dad?” he mumbles.
You cross your arms, feeling a sense of vindication.
“Yeah,” you say. “Can you blame him? He’s the only guy he’s seen around here in a long time.”
Rafe cracks his neck, pacing away from you as he breathes deeply, circling back towards you.
“Why’d you call him?” Rafe asks. He hates that another man provided for his family.
“What, and not you? Like you’re so reliable,” you mutter. “Where the hell have you been, Rafe?”
Rafe’s been living in a haze. He can’t forget your last argument when you screamed at him that if he didn’t love you, fine, but he had to love your son.
Fine. You’re fine if he doesn’t love you anymore.
Rafe has never cried in front of you. He always stifled it or left the room whenever he felt the thick threat of tears in his throat. He thought he had to be a man.
But at this point, he’s too weak to put up a front.
When Rafe starts sniffling, your heart drops. You’re in complete shock that he cares enough to cry about this.
You’re speechless. You stand across from him, just as still as you were the day you learned you were pregnant.
“Home,” he replies, voice thin. He’s been staying at the house, ignoring everyone. When he gets stir crazy, he goes to the club. Either way, he’s been a shell of himself, carrying his sorrow wherever he goes.
“This is home,” you say softly. You look down at the floor, your brows pinched. “What happened? We used to be…”
“What? In love?” he mutters.
“Happy.” You meet his glossy eyes. “Now all we do is fight.”
“And whose fucking fault is that?” he mutters. You scoff incredulously.
“It takes two, Rafe,” you snap. “Is that why you bailed? Because things got tough? Your baby needs you.”
“But do you need me?” he says. His words render you speechless. An even harder, colder tension grows between you.
“You said you’d be fine if I didn’t love you anymore,” he says lowly.
“I meant…” You take a deep breath. “Rafe, I’m… I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t love me anymore,” he mutters. “You’ll leave. I’ll barely see him. What’s the point in delaying it?”
Your head is muddled. Normally, you’d put your hand on his when he spins out like this. Talk him down. But he has hurt you so much lately that touching him would feel unnatural.
“I’d never keep your son away from you,” you say.
“But you would break up me,” he says. You’re so angry at him that giving him any sort of reassurance feels like a betrayal to your pain. He doesn’t deserve the consoling.
But then you notice a tear roll down his cheek and your heart softens.
“Is that why you’ve been like this?” you ask.
Over the past few weeks, Rafe realized he was always scared of being abandoned. Under thick layers of anger and disdain, he fears inadequacy. And why not leave before he’s left?
He stares at you in silence, as if saying his fears out loud will make them come true.
“It’s not on me. You stopped loving me a long time ago,” you say, allowing him to see a crack in your armor.
“I never…” he begins resolutely. “I’ll never stop loving you.”
“And this is how you treat somebody you love? By giving up?” you say. “I’ve been doing everything alone. Do you have any idea how exhausted I am?”
Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose, the guilt he’s been repressing flooding him all at once. He knows he’s failing you. Failing your family.
He won’t say anything else. He can’t.
“If you’re sleeping here tonight, you can take the couch,” you say, pacing out of the kitchen. “I don’t want to even lie next to you.”
Rafe doesn’t give into the impulse to leave, even though his fears and anxieties are screaming at him to. He settles onto the couch. It takes him an hour to fall asleep.
When you wake up to your son’s crying from the nursery at dawn, you hear Rafe’s soft, tired voice consoling him. You drift back off into sleep, sure he’ll call you for help within minutes.
When consciousness slowly pulls you out of your slumber, you can tell by the brightness in your room that it’s well past sunrise. When you check your phone, you’re shocked to see that you slept until noon.
You head downstairs, your chest tightening when you see Rafe playing with your son, his smile bright.
Rafe’s blue eyes meet yours. He gave you the gift of rest, something you’ve been dying for.
“I’m not giving up,” Rafe says. “If you break up with me, I want to know that at least, I… I tried my hardest.”
“If you try your hardest, I won’t break up with you,” you tell him, still harboring hostility.
Instead of arguing with you, Rafe simply nods. You’re shocked he doesn’t have a nasty retort.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says, planting a kiss on your son’s head, earning giggles from him. “Both of you.”
His tone and gaze are so sincere that you almost believe him. It’ll take a while for you to trust him again, but he’ll wait it out as long as he needs to.
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applestruda · 1 year
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Small comic thingy in reference to one of the rambles that wonderful anon wrote about
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miwtual · 10 months
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im so fucking tired of the disrespect gifmakers get on the gifmaker website
#kai.txt#negativity tw#(sorry these are gonna be a lot of tags. i have a lot of feelings and i dont know where else to put them)#we make gifs and nobody reblogs them#when they do get reblogged all people want to tell you is that your gifs arent good enough to them and rip it to shreds#'you're missing x' 'why didnt you do y' 'if i made this i would have abc' 'hey op ur wrong and this is why' 'i dont like this op'#reposters dont even reblog your fucking gifset but they'll save your gifs to repost later asking for how to do something#that they could have asked you how to do in the fucking first place#we reblog ourselves constantly because nobody else will and maybe to make our work look like it has more notes than it does#to make ourselves feel better about the lack of interaction we're getting#and then when we TALK about this frustration we have. people who are too afraid to say it to our faces#go on anon in our askboxes and tell us how we're somehow selfish for wanting people to interact with the sets#that we spent time on. hours. days. WEEKS in some cases#or we get anons who tell us the reason we dont have notes are because we arent good at gifmaking in the first place#but this is all on anon. because they're too scared to tell it to our faces#they're too scared for us to see that they ARENT a gifmaker and that they dont know how to do it any better either#they dont see us as people doing something we love as a hobby. they see us as content machines that dance like court jesters#im just so fucking tired of the disrespect#and this sentiment goes for more than just gifmakers. graphicmakers. artists. literally any creative hobby shared on this site#we get treated like shit and for what? literally for fucking what.
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gibbearish · 2 months
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so this post has been made unrebloggable now (shocker) but ive been feeling the need to address it since i saw it on my dash multiple times, so let's explore how lying on the internet works. more specifically, how blending truth, lies, and omissions to whip uninvolved people into anger works, because i think this is an excellent example and that pointing out the misinformation and the tactics used to spread it here is important, both in correcting the specific falsities but also in helping recognize similar tactics in the future.
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so here we have several things that are technically true: staff has been very openly shitty to trans women for a long time and them banning predstrogen is clearly part of that, there is currently a movement regarding discussing transmisandry/transandrophobia, transmisogyny and transphobes sending transphobic asks is by far nothing new, and baeddel is/was a slur. however, among all of this are half-truths, unprovable speculation, or outright lies made to make you believe these events are originating specifically from transmascs.
firstly, the transandrophobia movement has been drastically misrepresented here in the same way it has been for the whole argument, "they're just trans MRAs" has been repeated so many times now that i'm gonna be hearing it in my dreams when i'm 80. i can understand not being willing to address the nuance of that whole discourse in one post that isn't directly focused on that, i'm certainly not, but in this example it's not unwillingness to address a complicated topic, it's a deliberate misrepresentation to frame one side of the discussion as The Evil Bad Ones That Can't Be Trusted. additionally, this post IS about that discourse and is just pretending it isn't to mislead a wider audience, so refusing to address it at all beyond this brief mention is deliberately misleading people about the goals of the group because They're The Other Side Of The Discourse. "transmisogynists" is used as a buzzword here, it doesn't actually refer to Anyone Who Hates Transfemmes, it refers to Transmascs Who Discuss Transmasc-Specific Oppression Using A Word They Coined To Point Out That Queer Spaces Have A Big Problem With Masculinity and just. doesn't tell you that's what it means, relying on the structure and framing of the post to create the Transmisogynist = Transmasc association in the audience's head so op doesn't have to say it outright (and of course the implied Transmasc = Transmisogynist association that follows because creating THAT association is the Actual Point of this post). the mentions of transmascs in this post are designed to look like afterthoughts, op says "typically those who espouse transandrophobia" to make it look like they're saying there's other people they're referring to here too, but almost everything in this post draws from the transandrophobia discourse. some random cis transphobe in texas has never heard the term baeddel in their entire life much less used it in a debate about transphobia, this is an intercommunity argument through and through, but op is trying to mask the fact that they're just referring to "transmascs who disagree with me specifically" and make it look like it's part of a wider trend. and again, i'm not going to go into the nuances of transandrophobia here, but i highly recommend reading some of the theory on it by @nothorses (x) and @genderkoolaid (x) because the "theyre just trans MRAs" argument kinda just collapses under its own weight as soon as you look into it even a smidgen. i've linked a couple broad overviews there but they both discuss it frequently and in-depth, specifically nothorses has a pinned post linking to many different discussion threads that i would recommend checking out if you do want to learn more about what the actual conversation surrounding these words is.
so, after framing the movement this way, they go on to say that the reason predstrogen was banned wasn't /just/ because staff has a long and established hate boner for trans women, but because the transandrophobia movement was teaming up with TERFs to mass-report her and other transfemmes, and implies that this is part of a deliberate conspiracy between Transandrophobia Truthers™, TERFs, and staff. you'll notice that there are no, say, screenshots of transmascs saying theyre deliberately reporting her or of that they're working with TERFs, behind-the-scenes lists of people who reported a certain account, or any evidence for this beyond "she was a trans woman, they're trans men who hate trans women, she got banned, so these must be related". which i find especially funny now given that photomatt has continued melting down about this since it happened and made it pretty clear it yknow. was just part of staffs ongoing hate campaign against trans women that has been going on much longer than the transandrophobia debate? and that maybe the fact that The Literal CEO is having a personal meltdown about this might explain where that could be coming from or at least why it's been allowed to continue for so long, moreso than any individual users reporting someone could? but i digress.
who reported what account is completely unprovable as a casual user unless people directly admit they did it, so to bring it up like this begs the question of what actual reasoning they have for saying it beyond trying to tie a current display of bigotry into an unrelated discourse. that's not to say it's impossible people who discuss transandrophobia were wrongfully reporting her, because again, thats something we have no way of knowing, and the internet is a shit place so i wouldn't be surprised. but given the circumstances and the rest of the lies here, i have my doubts about this being an actual yknow. Thing That Happened rather than just another lie to make people mad at transmascs. now one could make the argument that op wasn't saying transmascs are /deliberately/ teaming up with TERFs/staff, that "teaming up" was just a poor choice of words to refer to multiple groups who happen to have the same goals in mind at the same time but aren't actually coordinating with one another, but given the deliberate misinformative slant of the rest of the post and the overall phrasing in this section, i have trouble extending that grace. regardless, however, that doesn't change that who is reporting who isn't something verifiable, so stating it here as a confirmed fact is disingenuous at the absolute best, and a lie chosen specifically because it's unprovable at worst. if op /does/ have proof that transmascs have been teaming up with TERFs to get trans women banned, not including that with this post is just uhhhhh dumb, and if op /doesn't/ have proof then Why Would You Go Around Telling People That's What Happened Unless You Were Lying To Them On Purpose With Ulterior Motives.
next, op goes on to discuss the rise of the term baeddel. now as i said before, the truth here is that it certainly was a slur and certainly can still be used as one, again the internet is a shit place so i would be a fool if i tried to say "no one is using this as a slur". however, this is once again a drastic misrepresentation of the situation. baeddel's rising use is due to certain trans women reclaiming it and aligning themselves with the original group's politics, namely that femininity is good and masculinity is bad (aka terfism 101), with the added caveat that by abandoning femininity for masculinity, transmascs are evil and betraying devine womanhood and their community by putting more Evil Manhood into the world. of course that in turn is a drastic oversimplification of their politics and i highly recommend checking out this post with an actual in-depth exploration of the history (and without my added flavor), but the important part to note here is that this is not a term transmascs just Started Using one day because they hate transfems so very much as is implied here, its use is directly tied to a group of people saying "hello, here is what i am, and here is what this word means about what i believe," so others went "ok, these specific beliefs are called this." bringing up the fact that it historically was a slur is misdirection here, when you look closer this is almost a 1 to 1 translation of TERFs crying that TERF and radfem are slurs because People Don't Like Their Politics And Therefore Them, so the name for their politics is used negatively, so therefore it's a slur. that argument just has a little more oomph behind it this time because It Was A Slur Originally. and again, that isnt to say no one is now using it as a slur, the rate of decay for online discourse is ridiculous so it being boiled down to and used as "evil transfemme" has certainly already happened, but to act like /every/ use of it is a slur is literally just a lie, when you self-identify with a term based on your shared politics with the original group then you do not get to claim everyone using that term to describe those politics is doing so exclusively to attack you. also this part is entirely speculation but given that op's url is basically just. baeddel switched around to dae bel, i would hazard a guess that they perhaps are indeed aware of the origins of its re-use? but again, that's entirely unprovable and based just on wordplay, but like. given the Everything here i wouldn't be surprised. now, there's definitely an argument to be made about calling users baeddels based just off of their politics when they don't personally self-identify with it, if that constitutes calling someone a slur and if TIRF should be used instead, but crucially, that is not the argument being made here. the argument being made is "ANY AND ALL use of this term is calling someone a slur," and that literally just Isn't The Case.
finally, to tie the whole post off, op reminds us 1) if you hear anything bad about any trans woman ever, it's probably a lie to make her look bad, and 2) if you hear anyone say anything about transandrophobia, disregard everything else they have to say because they hate trans women. not "be critical of the things you see or get sent" or "be on the lookout for things following a certain pattern," a unilateral "anything bad is probably fake and anyone who uses the bad words is probably evil." that is not something someone does if they are genuinely trying to raise awareness of an ongoing trend, that is what someone does when they want you to turn your brain off and be mad at a group no matter what they say.
so yeah, in summary, do be critical of the things you see and be on the lookout for certain patterns, because sometimes people will just Lie to you. or, sometimes people will tell you portions of the truth while leaving out crucial bits so that you'll come to the conclusion they want without anyone being able to say they lied to you without typing up a thirty paragraph long hell post. transmisogyny is absolutely a problem on this site and there are 100% valuable conversations to be had about it and its presence within the trans community, but this post is not that. this post uses real transmisogyny and the wrongful termination of a trans woman's account as set dressing to say that it was all because of evil transmascs who run the trans community behind the scenes conspiring to take out transfemmes, so you should ignore anything they have to say because All of it is secretly motivated by transmisogyny. they're never discussing transandrophobia because it's something that actually effects them, they're doing it to hurt trans women by saying they have it worse. they're never telling you about shitty things a trans woman did to spread awareness, they're lying to make her look bad, or even if it's true they're only talking about it as part of a hate campaign because she's trans, they wouldn't care otherwise. they're never using a specific term because People Use That Term For Themselves, they're calling someone a slur because they hate trans women. there's always an explanation you can think up that ties it back to transmisogyny, and op says that instead of assessing all of what someone says and the context behind it to determine if that's what's happening, you should assume transmisogyny is the answer and refuse to engage any further as soon as you see a word you've been told is bad.
this post is discourse recruitment masquerading as a public service announcement that doesn't offer you any routes to actually learn more about what's going on, it just tells you Here's What's Happening, Here's Who's Evil And Should Be Ignored, And If You Disagree You're Also Evil And Should Be Ignored. content of the actual post aside, i think anything framed that way should be taken with a MASSIVE grain of salt and this would have raised my alarm bells even if i wasn't already pretty familiar with the arguments, people who genuinely want you to know something just because it's good to know will give you options to learn more or encourage you to actually use your critical thinking to assess things, not tell you to sit down and shut up and ignore anyone who disagrees with them.
anyways i guess tldr
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q1ngqve · 3 months
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idk if you take requests but like..........
dr ratio x bratty gf,,,, perhaps a bit of daddy/sir kink as well,,,,,,,, you're really good at writing him like i literally luv your work :3
(btw sorry if this isn't allowed)
ANON THIS IS SO (>/////<)♡
CW; fem! reader, implied relationship, bratty reader, sir kink, manhandling, murder, choking, knife play, fear play, biting?, vaginal penetration (with the knife & his dick), orgasm denial, slight degradation but he calls you pretty <3
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do not, I repeat, do not act like a brat when you are with your boyfriend, unless you want to be completely and absolutely destroyed by him, verbally and physically. but where’s the fun in being good when you know how thrilling it is to rile him up?
veritas ratio’s eyes narrow as you prance around the room, giggling at something this random guy said, slapping him lightly on his arm. he’s not exactly one for jealousy, but when you’re so oblivious to the way other men are looking at you in your short skirt has his head going fuzzy with irritation.
truth is, you know exactly what you are doing. your boyfriend has been so caught up in his research the past few days he hasn’t had much time for you, and your fingers just aren’t enough to satisfy yourself. so consider this as punishment for not giving you the attention you needed.
the man’s lips graze your earlobe as he leans in, whispering something flirty that makes you sick in the stomach. you hide your face in his chest, acting as if you’re embarrassed, and wrap your arms around his waist.
before the man could slide his hands down your back, you were pulled away harshly by someone from behind, a small yelp leaves your lips as you’re dragged away and out the bar, tripping over yourself with almost every step from how fast he was walking.
your head whips up when the two of you finally stop, only to find your boyfriend glaring down at you, his hair tousled and brows furrowed, clearly displeased with your actions. you lock eyes with him, and a shot of electricity runs up your spine — ah, there it is, that delicious feeling of being hunted.
“get in the car.” and he’s gone.
you watch from your seat as he walks out of the bar ten minutes later, hair slightly wet, blood splattered on his jaw, his strides long and angry, and you feel yourself sink a little deeper into the leather seat.
silence fills the air as he drives, the tension so thick you could barely breathe. why is there blood on his face? did he just murder someone? oh god, it better not be that guy from before…did you just accidentally help in ending an innocent person’s life? you feel your body shake as you watch him from your peripheral, his jaw and shoulders relaxed, which is worse than when he’s mad and showing it.
you’re immediately dragged out of your seat when he stops, carrying and dropping you onto the hood of the car. his touch is gentle as he runs his fingers up to your chin, gripping at it harshly and forcing your head to tilt up uncomfortably to look at him.
your eyes adjust to the dimly lighted empty car park, legs closed shut as he towers over you, his shadows ungulfing your own on the hood. “what is that?” you break the silence with a stutter, your eyes flitting between his other hand and his face, body tensing at the sight of a bloody knife in his grip.
the man before you smiles softly, something he rarely does, so you know this is gonna be bad. “you like making me angry?” your lips part slightly at his question, knowing the answer is yes, but his aura is so terrifying that nothing leaves you other than heavy breathing.
his other hand grabs the underside of your knee, pushing your legs apart as he steps between your legs before leaning down even further, chuckling when your breath hitches at the intensity of his stare.
he flips your skirt up as he runs a finger up your already drenched underwear, the slick sticking to the pad of his finger. you squirm backwards when he lifts the knife, twirling it in his hand like a toy. “no— what’re you going to do with that?” the bloodied knife glistens under the dim white lights, and you swear his eyes turned a shade darker as he runs the tip down your neck, reveling at the sight of you trembling beneath him in fear.
“teaching you a lesson.”
your legs twitch involuntarily when the sharp blade reach between your legs, whines escape your lips as you feel it press softly against your entrace. tears sting your eyes, every inch of your body is telling you to run the moment he presses in harder, the thin fabric of your lace panties tearing immediately.
“‘m scared…”
veritas ratio laughs, the sound cruel and deep, straight from his chest. “this is punishment,” smirk returning to his face, making him look like a devil in disguise, “for acting like a brat.” a strangled gasp leaves you when he plunges the knife handle into your pussy, your walls tightening around the rubber like a vice.
oh god, there’s a knife in me, was all you could think of before he fucks it into you again and again, the rough textures rubbing deliciously against your gummy walls. the adrenaline heightening your senses, making this feel better than it should.
“you wanna act like a brat? wanna be a little slut and flirt with every guy you see? go ahead, be my guest. your boyfriend’s jaw finally clenches, allowing his anger and jealousy to take over as he bites at your collarbone, the stinging pain has you scratching at his biceps. “‘m sorry!” a flurry of apologies fly from your puffy lips as you cry from the pleasure and humiliation of having a knife making you feel like you’re in heaven.
“sorry, what?”
“sir— sorry sir!”
calling him ‘sir’ seems to bring out his animalistic side because the knife clatters on the concrete floor instantly, before being replaced by his dick. the air is knocked out of your lungs the moment he slides in, so long and thick, stretching you out nice and wide under him like a toy.
another whimper leaves you when he wraps his hand around your throat, squeezing tightly at the sides, successfully controlling the amount of air leaving and entering your lungs. panic fills you as you claw at this hand, tears streaming down your face like a waterfall.
“take it,” his other hand reaching down to circle your clit, “like the pretty little slut you are.” black dots fill your vision as you clench around him, getting off of everything that is happening to you.
your boyfriend groans above you as he cums, warmth engulfs you while he continues to pound into you, riding himself down from his high. “sir, ‘m close— please!” you manage to say breathily, your hips bucking into his on its own accord, chasing your high.
veritas ratio steps away in an instant and your eyes fly open at the empty feeling of your core, seconds away from your orgasm. “wait, no!” he flips your skirt down before kissing you roughly on your lips.
“only good girls get to cum.”
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⭒ A/N — not proofread yet!
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ovaryacted · 3 months
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Hello??! Sub!Leon??? Absolutely sign me the fuck up. Ok ok so. Hear me out.
First time, the absolute first time Leon has a prostate orgasm, he fucking cries. Either pegging, dick or fingering, the moment he feels that specific part inside of him get touched, he sees fucking stars.
This dude goes full hentai shit. His eyes roll back, he’s drooling, his tongue is hanging out, he’s babbling uselessly. His brain literally can’t comprehend how good he feels because of it!
I’d imagine that Leon also gets vocal. More vocal than ever. Normally he’s a quiet guy. Maybe some moaning and grunts but when your rubbing his prostate? Yea he’s speaking another language. Dude is Italian American, imagine if he starts speaking fucking Italian. HE doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, he’s just repeating words he heard from his parents growing up.
His voice is also an octave higher. He tries to cover his mouth at first, but it’s useless. He becomes a crying, moaning, babbling bitch.
I’d also imagine Leon’s thighs shake when he cums. Oh and he cums HARD. He actually forgets how to breathe for a bit because of the orgasm slamming into him.
And afterwords? Woah mama. He’s beautiful, breathing heavily, tears and drool marking his pretty face. Just…Mwuah~ <3
MDNI/18+. NSFW
Hey there anon! Thank you so much for the message, I’ll be glad to sign you up to the Sub! Leon fan club. Yes I’m totally listening, putting my ear real close to you right now.
I think the first time he cums like that, it will probably change his whole life and literally give his brain a hard reset. Like sure, he’s had good orgasms before, but never something that made black spots come into his vision, or something that made his legs shake the way they’re currently doing on the mattress. He never thought that sex could feel so good, and experiencing that much relief would genuinely be something that he’ll continue to ask for in the safety of another person who can provide that for him.
The way his mind just fizzles out when it happens, how there isn’t a single thought that goes through his head. It takes him off guard, how it’s just static between his ears and he’s stuck in a daze. For the first time in his life he’s not thinking about his trauma, about missions, about anything. His head is just empty and he loves it, and he finds himself someplace far away and wants to stay there for a while longer. To me, Leon is a sentimental guy, he’d be the type to cry during sex cause he’s clingy and affectionate. But when he’s the one on the receiving end, it makes him feel safe, and having someone who helps to genuinely make him feel good and focuses on his pleasure, he’ll be more inclined to cry from the release of it.
Poor baby is so pent up that the moment he cums he can feel his whole body shake from it. It starts from his thighs which nearly cramp from how hard they flex, and a chill runs down from his calves and to the balls of his feet. His toes will curl a little bit and his fingers will dig into the bed sheets, and he swears he feels his ears ringing from the force of it. He just starts mumbling under his breath, trying to get his heartbeat back to normal and is saying things like I love you in such a whiney voice that it doesn’t even sound like him. He’s babbling and saying anything that comes to mind as any logic just leaves him permanently. Tears down his face, drool running out of his mouth, face all red, he’s a damn mess but he’s your pretty mess. He’s so hypersensitive that any little movement or touch makes him jolt the slightest bit, and it’s almost embarrassing but he doesn’t have the brain power to give a fuck considering how good he feels.
You’d probably have to spend some time bringing him back to reality, praising him and kissing him over his body gently to calm him down. Leon would be so clingy afterwards, just wants to put his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that will ease him to sleep in 3 minutes flat. It’ll be the best he’s slept in a while too, getting a full 8 hours at least, just feeling warm and satisfied. And when you look down at him, there’s a small smile on his face as he sleeps, like he’s dreaming of something good and not having a nightmare, kissing his forehead as he dozes off with his limbs wrapped around you. You fuck him good and you baby him after, that’s what he likes and what he craves, and of course, you’re more than happy to provide.
Also, the fact that you said he’d start speaking Italian was so fucking funny, it made me chuckle. Very real. 😭
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bonefall · 5 months
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⭕️Hey Bones! Is it ok if you explain and/or elaborate how Crowfeather is abusive to Breezepelt if please?⭕️
I do KNOW that crowfeather is indeed, abusive to Breezepelt, due to the fact that he emotionally and/or physically neglected him - with child neglect being known to BE a form of child abuse - and I also heard that he slashed and/or hit him within one of the books, which I believe is in the book Outcast, in chapter 16.
But I also wish people would talk and be informed about it more within the fandom, because in the parts of the fandom I’ve known portrayed Crowfeather’s neglect on Breezepelt as negative and bad, but not in a way that made me think and/or feel: “Wow, that’s pretty bad. That’s…actually abusive.” I suppose? So I hope more people will talk about it more in that type of way.
Also, please be aware that I have NOT read PoT, OoTS, etc. or barely any warrior cats books, since the majority of the information I got from the series is from the wiki and the fandom, so that probably explains why I didn’t know this part of Crowfeather’s character is as bad as it actually is until now. Also, feel free to talk about Crowfeather’s abuse on Breezepelt I haven’t mentioned and/or don’t know right now as well if you want.
I’m SO sorry that if this ask is unintentionally quite long, and feel free to make sure to take all the time you need to answer it. Thank you!
OH LET'S GOOOO
Breezepelt is both physically and emotionally abused by Crowfeather. I'm not talking about only child neglect; he is screamed at, belittled, and even once hit on-screen.
The fact that Crowfeather both neglected and abused him is very important to the canonical story of Breezepaw. There's actually a lot more to this character than people remember! Even from his first appearances he displays good qualities, a strained relationship with his father and adult clanmates, and is clearly shown to be troubled before we understand why.
As many problems as I have with the direction of Breezepelt's arc (especially Crowfeather's Trial), his setup is legitimately a praiseworthy bit of writing from Po3 which carries over into OotS. To say that Breezepelt was not abused is to completely miss two arcs worth of books SCREAMING it.
BIG POST. Glossary;
INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River
ABUSE: Outcast, Social Alienation, the Tribe Journey.
DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.
For "brevity," I'm not getting into anything post-OotS. I'm just showing that Breezepelt was abused, the narrative wants you to know that he was abused, and that his status as a victim of child abuse is CENTRAL to understanding why he is training in the Dark Forest.
INTRO TO BREEZEPELT: The Sight and Dark River
Our very first introduction to Breeze is when Jaypaw walks off a cliff in the first book of Po3 and is rescued by a WindClan patrol. He's making snarky remarks, and Whitetail and Crowfeather are not happy about it. Whitetail snaps for Crow to teach his son some manners, and Crow growls for Breezepaw to be quiet.
But our proper introduction to him is at his announcement gathering, when Heatherpaw playfully introduces him as a friend,
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From the offset something's not entirely right here between Breezepaw and his father. He's cut off by Heatherpaw here, but he's touchy whenever his father is involved, and we're not entirely sure why.
Throughout Book 1, he's just rude, with a notable xenophobic streak. He's a bit of a mean rival character for Lionpaw, as they're both interested in the affections of Heatherpaw and make bids to get her attention, but nothing particularly violent yet.
He participates in the beloved Kitty Olympics and gets buried in liquid dirt with Lionpaw, basically a rite of passage for any arc.
(And Nightcloud has a cute moment where she watches over them until they fall asleep)
As the books progress, the relationship between Crow and Breeze visibly deteriorates. They start from being simply tense with each other in The Sight, to the open shouting and hitting we see in Outcast.
In the very first chapter of Dark River, we learn where his behavioral issues are really coming from;
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Crowfeather.
Breezepelt is getting xenophobia from his father. Occasionally he says something bigoted and his dad will agree and chime in, and those are the only positive moments they have together.
(Note: In contrast, Nightcloud explicitly pushes back against xenophobia, chiding Breezepelt for his rudeness to Lionpaw in back in The Sight, Chapter 21. The Sight is the book where a lot of "evidence" that the Evil Overbearing Woman is actually responsible for the rift between father and son but. No. She's not. Though she can be overprotective; Crow and Breeze have a bad relationship when she's not even around in Breeze's first appearance and even his Crowfeather's Trial Epiphany refutes it. Anyway this post isn't about Nightcloud.)
So he starts acting on his bigotry, accusing cats in other Clans of stealing, running really close to the border. What's interesting though, is that this is not entirely his doing. The first time we get physical trouble from Breezepaw, DUSTPELT aggressed it. Breezepaw and Harepaw were just chasing a squirrel and hadn't yet gone over the border at all.
We learn that WindClan is teaching its apprentices how to hunt in woodland, and tensions between the two Clans is starting to escalate as ThunderClan isn't entirely trusting of their intentions.
The second time, fighting breaks out over him and Harepaw actually crossing the border and catching a squirrel. WindClan is adamant that because it came from their land, it's their squirrel. So it's as if Breezepaw is modelling the aggression around him, learning how to behave from the older warriors and his father.
When he joins Heatherpaw and The Three to go find Gorsetail's kits in the tunnels, he's grouchy towards the ThunderClan cats, but very gentle with the kittens. Notably so. When Thistlekit is dangerously cold, he cuddles up next to her, and even assures Swallowkit when she's scared,
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Through this entire excursion, he's the one in the comforting roles for the kittens. Breezepaw is the one who is taking time to tell the kits they'll be okay, that he'll protect them, and physically supporting them when they're weak, even when he's terrified.
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And it's always contrasted to Heatherpaw who's way more 'disciplined,' as a side note. It's a detail I'm just fond of.
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All this to point out,
Breezepelt displays his best qualities when he's away from the older warriors of WindClan, and he's at his worst whenever he's near Crowfeather. Even while he's essentially just a bully character for The Three to deal with. He's gruff but cooperative when it's just him and Heatherpaw interacting with The Three, but mean when there is an adult to please.
We're getting to the on-screen abuse now, but Po3 actually sets up Breezepaw's troubles and dynamics well before it's finally confirmed that he is a victim of child abuse.
ABUSE: Outcast, the Tribe Journey.
In Outcast, Breezepaw's problems have escalated into open aggression towards cats of other Clans, and is now a legitimate concern for his own safety. Yet, he's spoken over by older warriors, and reprimanded at nearly every opportunity, right in front of the warrior of another Clan.
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Squilf just asked the poor kid how his training was going, and then Whitetail JUMPS to talk over him so she can complain, RIGHT in front of his face.
They can't even wait until they're alone to grumble something rude about Breezepaw, who is still just a teenager here;
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They taught him already that a bit of prey that runs off their own territory still belongs to WindClan, encourage him to blow past borders in pursuit, and started a battle with ThunderClan over this. And then they're pissed off at him for being aggressive, thinking it's deserved to scold him in public.
When Onestar announces that he wants Breezepaw to go on the Tribe Journey, he's devastated by it...
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Because he thinks WindClan doesn't like him, and he's right. He's gossiped about, torn into in front of a ThunderClan warrior, and even his own dad doesn't want to be around him. It's clear that Breezepaw's impulsive "codebreaking" behaviors are a desire to prove himself, and once you realize that, the way that he's being alienated is heartbreaking.
But Wait!! Hold on a minute! Where did he get a "patrol of apprentices" from to confront the dogs with, exactly?
Simple. Breezepaw CAN make friends! He actually values them a lot! So much that it's the first thing Crowfeather snaps at him over, out of frustration that his son is also being forced on this journey with him. It's an angry response to his child having emotional and physical needs, resentment that will continue all journey long.
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Note that it's plural, friends. Breezepelt has multiple friends, at least one who is not Heatherpaw, and she promises to say goodbye to them.
Up next, they state over and over, Crowfeather and Breezepaw do not like each other. Crowfeather resents being around him and dealing with his rudeness, embarrassed and angry, and Breezepaw is absolutely miserable being sent on a journey to the mountains with a man who hates his guts.
The whole while, Crowfeather is brooding longingly about Feathertail, already thinking about her as soon as he kitty-kisses Nightcloud goodbye, his eyes looking somewhere distant. He makes a jab about loyalty when Breezepaw doesn't understand why they're helping the Tribe.
Breezepaw gets smacked after he's "shoved" at Purdy and acts rude to him, while the other three manage to be polite (while still having internal dialogue about how stinky he is).
Without so much as a, "cut that out," Crowfeather raises his paw and hits him. Breeze is quiet after that.
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I don't give a shit how rude your teenager is being. Do not hit kids. Being throttled on the head is not okay.
In spite of the Three not liking Breezepaw, or even Crowfeather, they're constantly noting that their arguments are not normal, and that Crow is a cold, unsupportive father who digs into his kid constantly, and the only time he ever DOES "discipline" his child it's through immediately smacking him.
At one point, the apprentices get hungry, and decide to foolishly hunt in a barn that they know has dogs in it against Purdy's warnings. Once again, JUST like the first two books, Breezepaw is more friendly when Crowfeather is not around.
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EVERY time he is alone with cats his own age, he's grumpy but cooperative. Even enthusiastic at times! The minute Crowfeather is in the picture, he's nasty.
Naturally, the dogs show up, but Purdy rescues them. Though Brambleclaw also chews his kids out (and i have strong opinions about bramble's parenting style for another time), Hollypaw is taken aback by the contrast of what a scolding from Brambleclaw looks like vs how Crowfeather reacts.
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The narrative is desperately trying to tell you that the way Crowfeather treats his son is not normal.
And then Crowfeather is pissed off that Breezepaw is exhausted from running for his life from hungry dogs,
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And he's constantly losing his shit whenever Breezepaw says something as innocuous as "dad im hungry"
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Then, Breezepaw is made to watch his dad pine over the grave of a woman who died long before Crowfeather was even considering his mother for a mate. What he feels is jealousy, because he knows his own father doesn't love him anywhere near as much as he loves the memory of Feathertail.
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This really goes on and on and on. The ENTIRE trip is like this, with Crowfeather treating Breezepelt poorly, giving him a smack before even verbally warning him, pushing him past his limits and blowing up on him when he asks simple questions about eating or resting.
It all comes to a head in this one exchange, towards the end. Hollypaw ends up snapping at Breezepaw for his rudeness, before having an epiphany.
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It's explicit. Crowfeather's emotional abuse, his "scorn" for Breezepelt, is what is driving a wedge between him and all of his older Clanmates. Between EVERYONE in Breezepelt's life who wasn't already his friend. This awful treatment is only making him worse and worse.
Realizing this, she has more sympathy for him, but it's too late. He continues to be rude to her because he feels insulted, and her patience completely runs out. She's just a kid. They're both just kids. She's not responsible for fixing him when he's pushing everyone away at this point.
That's the end of Breezepelt in Outcast. It can't be helped anymore. Any spark of friendship they had together in the barn, or in the tunnels, is gone.
As the series progresses, Crowfeather continues to refuse any personal responsibility for the mistreatment of his son, even pinning all of Breezepelt's behavioral problems on Nightcloud. He is a cold, selfish father who only ever thinks about his own pain and reputation.
DARK FOREST: How these factors push him towards radicalization.
Everyone talks about the Attack on Poppyfrost, which happens in the first book of OotS, in oversimplified terms. YES he is going after a nun and a pregnant woman. I've never said that's not Bad.
But no one talks about "WHY", and that reason is NOT just that he desires power like so many other WC villains. Breezepelt makes his motivation very clear on the page.
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Escalating to violence was about making Jayfeather feel the way that he does.
When Breezepelt says that he wants Jay to be surrounded by "lies, hatred, and things that should never have happened," he's talking about the way HE grew up, knowing his father never wanted him, and that his Clan HATES him as a result. Killing Poppyfrost is about trying to frame Jayfeather for her murder, so ThunderClan won't trust him anymore.
When Jayfeather points out the simple truth that what Breezepelt is saying doesn't make any goddamn sense, his hatred "falters." He's blaming his half-clan half-brother for his own treatment because of the reveal, but totally failed to consider that JAYFEATHER'S ALREADY GOING THROUGH IT... so his response is just this pitiful, "s-shut up, man."
Then the ghost of Brokenstar and Breezepelt bounce him back and forth between them like a beach ball for a bit until Honeyfern's spirit shows up.
Breezepelt's childhood abuse and social alienation was a hook that the Dark Forest latched onto, to reel him in. His anger at his half-brother is so obviously misplaced that its absurdity was something Jayfeather pointed out.
We soon learn that it's the Dark Forest who's planting that ridiculous idea in his head;
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The narration is SCREAMING, "The Dark Forest is validating the anger he feels towards his father, and redirecting it towards The Three." He's described as 'kitlike,' Tigerstar's eyes are compared to a hypnotizing snake.
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This prose could not make it more obvious if it drove to your house, beat you with it, and then spoon fed you the point while you were hospitalized.
At the end of this scene, Tigerstar sends Hawkfrost to recruit Ivypaw. This scene where Breezepelt is being lovebombed, and the command to start grooming Ivypaw, ARE LINKED. That was a choice.
A VERY GOOD choice! Again, as many issues as I have with OotS, its handling of indoctrination is unironically fantastic, and it owes a good amount of that to the outstanding setup of Breezepelt that was done back in Po3. And that setup doesn't work if Crowfeather was merely distant.
Breezepelt was abused by his father, both verbally and physically. It drove him to be more aggressive to prove himself, modeling the battle culture around him. The adults of WindClan judged him based off Crowfeather's responses, shunning and belittling the 'problem' teenager, which eventually drove Breezepelt to the only group that he felt "understood" him.
In a book series that is RIFE with abuse apologia, this is one of the few times that there's any behavioral consequences for abuse and the narrative holds the perpetrator accountable for it.
But people hear Crowfeather's deflective excuse in The Last Hope where he says he never hated him, blames Nightcloud for everything, and just lick it up uncritically.
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Gee whiz, I wonder why the guy who never blames himself for any of his problems would suddenly say it was his ex-wife's fault. Real headscratcher!
(Crowfeather's Trial then goes onto, for all my own problems with it, also hold Crow accountable as the reason why Breezepelt turned out like he did. But that's a topic for another day.)
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jeeaark · 3 months
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If Greygold was a companion, what would be the best way to initiate a romance with them? Would they go for the “L” word early or an Act or two later?
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The "L" word was lube, right? Right? Else showering Durge/Tav with kisses Gomez-Addams-Style is the alternative.
Maybe the Nat 20 romance isn't the best way for Tav/Durge, but it sure is for Greygold. You just know Greygold scared that Dream Guardian away the first time and has been low-key obsessed with that armor since
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fcthots · 4 months
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Happy New Year!! I wish you the best of luck and prosperity in the New Year!
Have you thought about teasing Jason? Maybe making him read one of his favorite books out loud as you tease him til he can’t remember the words?
happy new year!!
Anon, you genius. I am a Jason loves teasing you truther, but I hadn't even considered the possibilities of you teasing Jason. And now that I am, he would not be able to take it for long. He would get so whiny and xhibedcd i have so many ideas for this, it's hard to pick one.
I'll proofread this later. <3.
It's not that Jason doesn't pay you enough attention, you take up 75% of his thoughts, but when Jason starts reading, it takes up all of his focus. It's damn near impossible to get his attention. Good thing you love a challenge.
When you walk into the living room, he's seated comfortably on the couch. A well worn book rests in his hands. He is so engrossed in it that he doesn't seem to notice your presence. You'll have to fix that.
"What are you reading?" He doesn't quite jump, but his eyes shoot up. There's something to be said about how he's so comfortable around you that his guards is completely let down. That does something to your insides.
"Just some poetry." It's such a vague answer that it piques your interest.
"What kind?" You step closer to him. His eyes track you.
"Some love letters. It's Letters to Milena by Franz Kafka." He'd spoken of the book before you think.
"Thinking about me while you read?" You climb onto the couch and straddle him. One of his hands moves to your waist on instinct.
His face dusts with a light blush. He doesn't respond, seemingly at a loss for words. You wrap your arms around his neck. He stutters for a moment, but never quite makes a full word. You smile. He's getting so riled up and you've barely done anything.
"Read it to me." His brows furrow and he fumbles with the pages. You dip your face into the crook of his neck and softly bite down. His breathing grows deeper and faster.
He stutters at first, struggling to find his place in the book. Eventually he finds it. "Yesterday, I advised you not to write me every day," You feel him grow hard beneath you, "I still hold the same opinion today and-"
You grind down onto him. His head tilts back, moving your face away from his neck, as he makes a sound between a whine and a moan. You lift your hips away from his and he opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first. "Keep going."
He nods obediently. His movements are shaky, pent up and nervous. "it would be very good for both of us," You drop your hips back onto his and he gasps, but doesn't stop, "and so I repeat my advice today even more-..." His voice trails off as your hand drops from his shoulder to down into your pants. He watches you with something akin to reverence as you slip the pants and underwear off together (with some difficulty). You drop them to the floor. Jason shudders beneath you. "Wait." His voice is whiny as he pants beneath you. "Please," one of his hands moves to the hem of your shirt and tugs, "take this off. Need to see you, please."
You start tugging it over your head. "Only if you keep reading." He nods vigorously and you unclasp your bra.
"Emphatically- only please," his voice hitches when display your tits in his face, you bring one hand to your chest and roll a nipple between your fingers, making a show of throwing your head back and pushing your chest towards his face with a breathy moan. "Milena," you grind against him and he stutters for a moment. You move the other hand back between your legs and begin to work yourself open, starting with two fingers, in and out. He continues and his hooded eyes watch your every move. He doesn't need to look at the book to know the words. "Don't listen to me, and write me every day anyway," you add another finger to your rhythmic motions that brush against his length, "it can even be very brief," you add in your pinky finger and Jason makes a pathetic little whiny sound that is music to your ears.
You undo the drawstring of his sweatpants and push them further down his thighs. Putting his book down, he shimmies his hips to help you get the pants down, as impatient as ever. As soon as he cock springs free, you urge him, "Keep going."
He watches, trying his best to keep talking, as you lift your hips and bring his tip to your folds. Your other hand staying occupied on your chest. His hands anchor themselves on your waist, "briefer than today's letters," he moans out as you begin to slightly push yourself down. He soldiers on, "just 2 lines," you slide down even more. You do your best to keep your own moans under control, you want to be able to watch him. You've worked yourself enough so he slides in easily, the stretch not painful. He feels good.
He can't form words while you take your time bottoming out on his cock. Once, you've sat your full weight on him, he can't tear his eyes away from where your bodies join. One of his hands slides down until his thumb reaches your clit. He's distracted, entranced, by you. You struggle to keep your composure. "Keep reading."
His eyes stay focused on his thumb as it circles your clit. "Just one," you move your hips up and snap them down. Pleasure blooms in your chest and you hear Jason curse and breathe faster. "Just one word," you find a rhythm moving up and down on his dick. His voice constantly wavers and he moans between words. "But if I had to go ah without them," the length between each word gets longer and longer as you move faster and faster and he gets closer and closer. He struggles to get even one word out.
"Finish it and I'll let you finish." You're getting close now too, his demeanor clearly having an effect on you. His thumb speeds up.
He nods, unable to hold himself back for much longer. "I would suffer terribly." He says the words fast, all in one breath as he begins to thrust up into you. You clench around him as he lets out a loud moan. You cum together as he spills out of you. His head tosses back and his thumb stills and he twitches through the last waves of his orgasm. You drop your head onto his shoulder and slouch against his chest. His arms curl around you and he kisses whatever skin he can reach. You legs burn and your knees ache, but you have nothing to be worried about. Jason will take care of you.
Also disclaimer! I have not read the book yet! I plan on getting it soon bc I've been wanting to read it for years, but have yet to read the full thing full so that's why it's undetailed.
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ohbo-ohno · 6 months
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loneliness and fallen woman with price please! happy 1000 followers ❤️
1k game here - no more please!
alright anon. i gotta be real with you, i barely used the prompts you gave and for that i really am sorry. i wrote like 1k of this about three different times because they kept just not being quite right, and they got increasingly further and further from the prompts. sorry!
2.6k of reader x local crime kingpin price. no smut! (the background plot and "worldbuilding" here is really weak, but just ignore it lol)
You know you’re doing something stupid, but that seems to be all you’re capable of these days. The last few weeks have been nothing but stipid decision after stupid decision, your absolute stupidest decision leading you to this exact moment.
You should’ve never slept with John Price. You should’ve known, should’ve recognized his face, but you’d been a little tipsy and a little desperate, and hadn’t connected the very common name John with the very well known criminal John Price. 
No, that had come the next morning, when you’d woken up before him and been able to really take a look at him, completely sober. Him and the gun in its holster resting on his folded pile of clothes.
You should’ve recognized him long before then, and you should’ve turned tail and run. You shouldn’t have let him buy you a drink, you shouldn’t have let him coax you into dumping all your troubles onto him, and you certainly shouldn’t have slept with him. 
You’d left before he could wake up and say God knows what, fear pumping through your veins at the realization of who you’d slept with. You’d nearly knocked yourself out trying to get dressed, almost fallen on top of him before you managed to stumble out of the hotel room he’d bought for you.
Everyone knows John Price. No one ever really bothers to detail why he’s dangerous, but they all seem confident he is. You’re a recent transfer to the area, and you still haven’t been able to get anyone to really say why they always whisper when they say his name.
What you do know about him is that every few weeks, almost routinely, you hear that he’s been arrested. Then two or three days later, like clockwork, it’s announced that he’s escaped, always thought to be “armed and dangerous”. His mugshots are shown on TV enough that it’s truly surprising you hadn’t recognized him at the bar. 
You always figured you’d never run into him. You don’t exactly lead a life of crime, don’t exaclty put yourself in harm’s way. You work a boring nine to five job, have dinner with friends every couple weeks, occasionally meet up with someone from a dating app, and never really stray from that. Had he not happened to be in the same bar as you, you never would’ve met him, never would’ve slept with him, and never would’ve been hunting him down now, weeks later.
Hell, you might not have even slept with him had you not just been stood up by what was supposed to be a first date on the same day you’d lost out on a promotion. But a few shots, that loneliness that grows more and more familiar every day, a simmering frustration in your career, and a handsome man are not a good combination for your self control. 
But you had slept with him, had been especially stupid and not even worn protection - something you’d only really noticed the next morning, when you felt… him still leaking from you, saw that there was no condom wrapper.
And now here you are - stood in that same run down bar you’d first met him in, wearing an old hoodie and your favorite sweatpants, three positive pregnancy tests tucked in your front pocket.
You try to take a deep breath.
You really don’t know what you’re doing. You’ve been running on autopilot since you realized you might be pregnant, the time between buying tests and taking them a blur. Even now, you’re running on instinct alone. Instinct tells you to find John Price, and tell him about… this.
You can figure everything else out after. 
You scan the crowd, hoping to spot him quickly. You know he owns the bar - something you’d found out once you’d gotten home and fallen deep into a rabbit hole and read everything about the man you could find. You’re not sure how he still owns the bar considering he’s got multiple warrants out for his arrest, but you figure it’s probably the same reason he never actually ends up in jail.
But he’s not here now. At least, not anywhere you can see.
You step up to the bar, rest your elbows on the counter and rest your head in your hands, taking a few long, stablizing breaths.
“What can I get for ye?”
You glance up at the sudden voice, coming face to face with the bartender. It’s not the same man as last time - this man’s got a Scottish accent and a mohawk, a far cry from the darker skinned British man with pretty eyes who’d served you last time.
“Do you…” you glance around again, sigh, and decide you should try and find somewhere to compose yourself a bit. “Do you guys have a bathroom I could use?”
“Course,” he smiles at you, open and friendly, and you feel some of the tension ease from your shoulders. “Just ‘round that corner there, a few doors down. Can’t miss it.”
You give him a tight smile, mutter your thanks as you head in the direction he’d gestured. His directions are exactly right, the women’s bathroom door towards the end of the hallway but clearly marked.
Just past the bathroom doors is a stairwell. The door is half open, but you can clearly see the stairs even halfway down the hallway. You’re not sure why, but you walk right past the bathrooms, ducking into the stairwell instead after shooting a quick look over your shoulder to make sure no one saw you. 
It’s nearly silent, the music from the bar growing more and more muffled as you start to make your way to the next floor. It’s even quieter once you reach your destination, just a distant and faint rumbling in the floorboards.
You step out into a hallway with four doors - two of them with nameplates nailed to them. Stepping close, you see one is labeled Simon Riley and the other reads John Price.
Before you can consider whether or not you’re making another stupid decision you’re knocking on the door with Price’s name. 
You regret it the moment your knuckles rap against the wood, can’t believe you keep doing such stupid things without thinking.
Before you can even get a step away from the door, there’s a voice calling out from inside the room.
“Come in.”
Your breath hitches. 
You can’t leave now. There’s no way he wouldn’t come to the door, see who knocked. You’re not about to ding dong ditch John Price, but that doesn’t make it any easier to move forward. You only manage it because you feel oddly exposed in the hallway, and your nerves urge you forward enough to open the door.
You shut it quickly behind you, eager for privacy for some reason you can’t quite pin down. Listening to your instincts regardless, you keep your back pressed to the closed door and shove one hand in your pocket to wrap around the pregnancy tests.
John looks… mostly the same, which only makes you feel even more foolish for not recognizing him on the night that started this whole mess.
His beard’s a bit longer, but he’s got a button up and that silly hat on, the same thing he’d been wearing the first night you saw him. It’s almost like you’re yanked back to that night without warning, the only real difference being the fact that he’s sat behind a desk instead of beside you.
“Oh,” he says, looking oddly unsurprised as he leans back in his chair, hands lacing over his stomach. “It’s you. My little runaway.”
You scowl, your trepidation immediately replaced with anger. 
“First of all,” you hiss, scowling and moving towards his desk, the twitch at the corner of his lips only working you up further. “I’m not your anything. And I didn’t run away.”
His lips curve into a fuller smile, and he shifts his chair back enough for you to see his thighs, thick and bulging against his tight pants. He’s manspreading in his own office chair, and you have to swallow thickly when you realize just how attractive it is.
When you glance back to his face and see the distinctly smug expression he’s wearing, your ire only grows.
“Not sure what else you’d call it,” he rumbles. “Was hoping to spend a little more time with you, love, but you were gone before we could set up a date.”
You instinctively go to bite back, but stumble a bit when what he’d said settles. The idea that he’d been disappointed when he woke up alone, that he wanted more time with you…
You shake the thought off. It doesn’t matter, you have more important things to discuss.
You force yourself to straighten, fingers toying with the tests in your pocket. Your nerves return now that you’re really face to face with John again, now that you’ve got to actually figure out how to tell him. 
He seems to sense the shift in your mood, leaning forward so he’s not sprawled out so casually and resting his forearms on his desk.
“Why’re you here, love?”
This is it, you think to yourself, closing your eyes to take a deep, stablizing breath.
You tug the pregnancy tests out of your pocket, drop them wordlessly in front of him. It’s hard to keep your eyes open, to watch his expression as he slowly looks down at your offering, watch as realization washes over him.
John’s silent for a long moment. Your palms sweat, and you just barely resist the urge to wipe them off on your pants.
Finally, he looks back up at you, shifting in his chair. “You’re sure?”
You hesitate, nod a bit. “There are… I took more, at home. Didn’t want to bring them all.”
He nods, leaning back in his chair and crossing one leg over the other. “And it’s mine?”
You flush, face going hot. You know it’s a fair question, but you can’t help but bristle anyway. 
“Yes,” you hiss, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t… I didn’t…” You cut yourself off, the words you were my first trapping themselves behind your teeth. You hadn’t meant to lose your virginity to John Price, and you see no need to tell him you even had. As far as you’re concerned, you can keep that knowledge to yourself. “It’s yours.”
He doesn’t look convinced, and that only makes your face go hotter. You fight the urge to tuck your hands beneath your armpits, determined not to shrink in front of this man.
“I haven’t been with anyone else,” you elaborate, eyes flicking away from his face.
He takes a deep breath, exhales in a loud sigh. You hear his fingers tap against the desk, just barely bite back your annoyance at the sound. You work your tongue between your teeth, nerves racing again.
“Well,” he eventually says, standing from his chair. You can’t help but jolt a bit, having forgotten just how big he is. He towers over you even from a few feet away, his broad shoulders and barrel chest only making him feel twice as large. It’s a conscious effort on your part not to take a step back. “I hope you weren’t too attached to your apartment, love.”
He stalks around the desk, walking towards the door, but you can’t move from your spot. Your eyebrows furrow, and you track him with your eyes.
“My apartment? What’re you talking about?”
He shoots you a look, one you have no idea how to interpret, as he tugs his door open. “Simon!”
“John,” you hiss, stepping closer to him again. “What’re you-?”
He holds a hand up to quiet you as the other door opens, and you can just barely spot another man stepping forward. “Yeah?”
“Need you to call some movers. Need to get my girl moved into my place.”
You gape like a fish as the new man leans to the side a bit to look where Price is gesturing to you, and he nods. “Got it. Timeline?”
“Done by tonight.”
The other man grunts, and leaves again. John closes the door, turning back to you and starting back to his desk.
“What- what the hell?” You splutter, mouth opening and closing in shock. “You can’t- you don’t even know where I live!”
John settles back into his chair and shoots you a look that you can clearly read - it’s nothing but unimpressed.
“Course I do, love. Did you think we wouldn’t be meeting again?”
You blink at him, dumbfounded, as he turns to his computer, lips twitching into a smile.
“Of course we wouldn’t,” you try, hand resting on one of the chairs in front of the desk to steady yourself. “We only… we only slept together once. I didn’t even know who you were.”
He hums an agreement, typing. “No, you didn’t. But that doesn’t matter, you know now. And considering the other… developments,” he shoots a look to your belly, and you rest your free hand over the small curve protectively. “It’s best we get to know each other in far closer quarters, hm?”
“No,” you argue, trying to inject some sterness into your tone. “I’m not moving in with you, that’s ridiculous. I just… I only told you about the baby so you could be involved. Maybe pay some child support. But there’s no reason for anything more.”
He sighs heavily through his nose, giving you another of those unimpressed looks. “You’re tellin’ me you’d rather keep living on your own? Take care of yourself and my baby all on your own?”
You brows furrow. “My baby.”
“Our baby.”
“Whatever,” you huff, moving to sit in one of the chairs, slumping back. “I can’t move in with you. Just because we… slept together, once, doesn’t mean you can just boss me around like a minon.”
 “Oh, it was more than once, love,” he corrects, voice pitching lower. You force down a shiver, cheeks heating again. “And is it really bossing you around if it’s for the best?”
You shoot him your own unimpressed look. “Yes, of course it is.”
He shrugs, turning back to his computer. “Then I guess I am bossing you around. Regardless, Simon will have your belongings in one of my properties by tonight.”
You scowl, leaning forward enough to plant a hand on his desk. “Listen, John, I have a life. A perfectly nice apartment, a job I like, friends - you can’t just take me away from all of that just because we made a mistake!”
The quick glance he shoots you verges on scolding. “That’s exactly what I can do, and it’s exactly what I will do.”
He stands before you can reply, fixing his cuffs as he strides back to the office door.
“You can call your boss tomorrow to turn in your resignation,” he says over his shoulder, tugging the door open and already walking away, winking at you just before he disappears from your sight. “You won’t be working while carrying our baby.”
You gape at the spot where he just was, palms still slick with sweat. It takes you a moment to fully grasp what he’s just said, how the entire conversation has gone, but when you do you’re enraged.
“John!” You shout, storming after him, leaving the pregnancy tests behind. “Get back here, you insane man! That’s absolutely not happening!”
The sound of his low laugh echoing through the stairwell only pisses you off more. Your scowl feels etched into your face, and as you storm after John you vow to keep him from completely steam rolling your life.
If he thinks he’s going to just pluck you from your life and drop you in his with no fight, he’s got another thing coming. 
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shanastoryteller · 5 months
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Happy Halloween!!! The untamed pretty please?
a continuation of 1 2 3
Nie Huaisang at ten isn't that jarring, even considering the adult version he left behind, because he's pretty much exactly as Jiang Cheng remembers him.
Seeing Nie Mingjue at thirteen as a sullen child instead of the looming specter of his memories takes some adjusting.
Nie Haoyu wouldn't take no for an answer and it hadn't helped that A-Ying had been thrilled at the invitation and immediately started peppering the Nies with question that they'd answered in good humor the whole way back. Nie Haoyu seems delighted with A-Ying, finding him amusing and impressive and complimenting Jiang Cheng several times on raising such an impressive son.
He just glares back but Nie Haoyu's good humor is unaffected. His memory of the clan leader is spotty at best and he's coming to the slow and horrifying realization that it was Nie Huaisang and not Nie Mingjue that got his personality from their father.
Joining a clan is probably good for them, long term, and the Nies are the only other tolerable major clan, not that he'd ever expected to get practically kidnapped by them.
The only problem is that Nie Haoyu is going to be dead in two years time and if he wants A-Ying and the Nie siblings to have some semblance of a normal childhood, he's going to have to. Do something about that.
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i just would like you to know ur art inspires me to wanna draw more is2g *insert me crying*
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This honestly makes me really glad to hear!! Tbh that’s all I hope to do with art is to encourage others to draw!
Let it be known, yall don’t gotta draw as much as me, I’m just completely dialled into art and have a very good system for myself, BUT definitely do enjoy making art more often for yourself!
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courtmartialme · 4 months
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i just want u to know that i found ur art looking for royai because i wanted to see roy, but ur riza propoganda has made me switch allegiences i think i like riza more than roy now ❤️
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