#i phrased this weird but you get he point

[hightowered]

and you know i gotta say. the vast majority of the people losing their shit this weekend made it very clear that they do not understand the difference between "artists who want a measure of comfort in their lives" and "the billionaires actually being targeted by phrases like eat the rich." that is such a weird thing to be so proud to announce to the whole entire internet.

it's also extremely weird to behave as though any individual is entitled to an artist's work for free. or that the audience should be the final say in determining what an artist creates. there is a major difference between the betrayal of an artist who produces art and then banks on their social capital to engage in harmful, violent, bigoted behavior (like jk rowling) and the "betrayal" of an artist who decides that they should be or need to be compensated for their work. the latter isn't actually a betrayal at all. it's just a shift.

the thing is that the watcher boys didn't invent capitalism, they didn't invent the streaming model, they didn't invent youtube or patreon. they aren't getting 100% of the money from either. their merch doesn't magically appear as if made by elves while they sleep. their videos don't happen out of nowhere and without incurring bills. they have a business which employs people, and sure, you can say they employ too many people, but do they actually? a bunch of randos on the internet don't actually know that. they don't know these job titles, or how necessary it is to have everyone there. it's pure speculation. the entire company exists within a system they did not invent and are trying to stay afloat in said system while a bunch of assholes on the internet berate them for not acquiescing to their every whim at the expense of their artistic integrity, their ability to compensate their staff fairly, and their ability to keep making art.

and jumping from "i want to continue enjoying this artist's work for free" to "i think people should be fired and the remaining employees should be given greater responsibilities and more tasks to complete" is wild to me. there's nothing leftist in that and so trying to leverage leftist jargon to prove some sort of moral superiority is fucking wild, it's disingenuous, and it's sketchy as hell. you're allowed to be disappointed. you're not magically exempt from being told you're being an asshole if you decide your disappointment entitles you to take part in asshole behavior.

"but we don't want something heavily produced and we don't want these shows" then don't watch! that's it! don't watch! you are not being held hostage and forced to engage with this content. you have the choice not to. throwing a tantrum and launching racist vitriol at steven lim and demanding he step down as CEO shows a level of entitlement and childishness that, frankly, i wish they could have ignored, but they're both kinder & more patient than i am.

anyway congratulations to watcher on their new streaming service and their gorgeous new website, congratulations to the boys on a new step in their careers and on achieving something they've made clear they've wanted for ages, thank you to the boys for all their hard work and for sharing their creativity with us. thank you too for taking such a big and genuinely brave step to no longer be beholden to major corporations and advertisers so you can make the art you want to make. thank you to steven lim for taking so many steps back to keep the company running and for doing your best in a shit economy and while being targeted by this kind of nastiness online. and thank you to the entire team at @wearewatcher for continuing to do amazing work despite being treated like shit by the fan community at large on the internet while you're trying to make a living and create art. you all deserve better than you've been shown of late and i hate that such an exciting moment got overshadowed by so many temper tantrums.

because the whole fucking point, the dream, is getting to make the art that matters to them, without being held back. i'm sorry y'all don't want the heavily produced and high quality shit but your preferences as a member of an audience are not the law by which artists should abide. they are artists and they are free to, and deserve to, make the art they want to make.

#watcher #watcher entertainment #could this rollout have been handled better? sure! but for the love of god the way y'all have been reaching to demonize them #steven in particular #it's frankly pretty horrifying #like y'all actually behave that way? and are proud to have a record of it?

[losersimonriley]

At the tail end of a long, grueling mission that had them run around half of Eastern Europe, Laswell had given Ghost and Soap three days of leave before they'd be flying back home. She'd even booked them a hotel in a tiny spa town for two nights. Yet even though they arrived early in the day, Soap was still exhausted enough from the mission to just let Ghost handle the check in.

Something was off, though, when Ghost returned to him. He could tell by the square set of his shoulders and the slight frown on his brows. Even without his usual balaclava, his hood and face mask hid most of Ghost's expressions from inexperienced viewers.

"Good news: Laswell's paying for two dinners each at the in house restaurant. It's supposedly very good," Ghost reported.

"And the bad news?"

Ghost subtly shifted his weight. "Only had rooms with double beds left."

"You mind sharing?" Soap raised his eyebrows.

"Nah. Thought you might."

"Nah. Let's get up to our room then. I'm right knackered from the trip."

Ghost rolled his eyes at the phrasing, but didn't comment on it. When Soap punched his shoulder to signal go time, he obediently followed to the elevator.

As forewarned, the room only had one bed. But at least it was the softest, most cloud like bed Soap'd ever had the pleasure of sitting on. He wanted to immediately lie down and never get up. First things first, though.

"Mind if I take the first shower?"

Ghost shrugged. "Feel free. Thought I'd have a look around town. Find the spa. Try the public fountains. Look at the local attractions. Tourist shite."

"Have fun. I'll cover home base while you're out on recon, then."

Ghost huffed out a small laugh as he turned to leave the room.

Soap hopped into the shower for a quick wash, dried himself off with extremely fluffy towels and then got himself comfortable in the bed. He'd planned on a quick nap, but when he woke up again, it was because someone had chucked a paper bag at his head. It smelled deliciously like baked goods.

"Got you lunch, Sleeping Beauty."

"I'd be so mad at you for waking me like that," Soap said as he sat up and bit into the bun that'd smacked him in the ear. "If this weren't so good."

"Up for an afternoon trying all the healing springs? The park is twenty minutes from here and has at least ten different fountains with different properties. Maybe one can cure stupid."

"Maybe one can cure being a dick."

"You'll never know."

They spent the afternoon together trying the water from every single fountain in the park. It had clearly been built sometime in the nineteenth century, Soap pointed out, citing the architecture and decorations. The water was various kinds of salty. More than half the fountains were claimed to have uranium in the water, a fact that led both Ghost and Soap to come up with more and more outrageous movie mutations caused by too much of the spa water. Dinner at the hotel's restaurant was fantastic. The chef didn't skimp on the fat, nor on the herbs and spices.

Soap had almost forgotten about the bed in their room by the time they got ready for bed. "I can still sleep on the floor, LT."

"Why?"

"Dunno." Soap shrugged. "Thought it might be weird to you."

"'s not." Ghost took off his boots, stripped down to his undershirt and briefs before he slipped under the covers. "Fuck. 's like a cloud in here."

Quickly, before either of them could change their mine, Soap undressed and got into bed as well. His hammering heart forced him to keep a fair distance between himself and Ghost.

"Figured you'd be a cuddler," Ghost mused.

"That an offer?"

"Mh." Under the covers, Ghost reached out to pull Soap closer to him. "Don't mind if it's you."

Soap swallowed. He let himself be pulled against Ghost, head resting on a broad chest, hand over a heart that was beating it's staccato rhythm in tandem with Soap's own.

"G'night, Simon," Soap whispered, not trusting his mouth to say more.

"Night, Johnny."

When he woke up the next morning with his Johnny sprawled out on top of him, with his breath hot against his bare neck, Ghost was immensely glad he'd convinced the hotel clerk to give them a room with a double bed. Even if it was just for one more night, he'd treasure this closeness for the rest of his life.

This felt like getting tucked into a comfy warm hotel bed of my very own <3 I hope everyone else enjoys this cloud bed as much as I do god BLESS

#ghostsoap #I love their banter especially ghost’s one liners my god #“maybe one can cure stupid” AKDHSHA PLEASE #cuddling ghoap my absolute beloved #ghost you sly devil you #thank you for this treasure I’m sorry it took so long to answer I was waiting until I had good quiet time to read it <333 #LITERALLY the post from the other day about writing characters just getting to sleep in a comfy bed oh my god 😭❤️🫶 #fics #asks #long post

[nonranghaes]

it's weird that you don't call out to jun when he comes into your apartment. jun knows that you know he was coming over at some point to spend time with you, and usually you greet him in some way when you hear the apartment door unlock. he's a little earlier than he planned, but you told him to 'come over whenever' and now he's a little worried that you didn't mean it. he quietly slips into the pair of slippers that stays here at your place, and makes his way further into your apartment to set down the bag of groceries he brought on your kitchen counter. your bedroom door is open, but the tiny room you use as a home office is open just a sliver.

he makes his way over, leaning in to listen for a moment... only to hear your voice. there's a little strain to it as you struggle through a sentence, and it clicks all at once: you're speaking chinese. albeit not very well (it's clear to jun that this is one-hundred percent new to you), but you're still trying. your pronunciation is a bit clumsy, but he can hear the way you try to use the right tone with what you're saying...

when did you start learning this much? jun had taught you little things in the past--the absolute basics, really, plus a few other little phrases that veer into his own cheesy need to hear you say sweet things--but this...? he steps back from the door. why hadn't you told him? you could have told him and he'd happily help you learn. but he trusts you: you must have your reasons to keep this a secret, so he won't push. he steps away, deciding to busy himself with getting ingredients put away--or set up for the two of you to cook together, in case you're hungry now.

then he knocks a cup into the sink, and immediately he hears you coming out of your office. relief crosses your face when you see it's just jun, and you lean against the open doorway.

"i didn't know you were here." you pause, and then he sees you get hit with realization. "... how long were you here?"

"i just got here," he says. it's technically the truth, isn't it? he's only been here for a few minutes. "were you working?"

you nod. "yeah. just had to answer a phone call," you lie to him, but he just nods and acts like he doesn't know that. you come up to his side, wrapping an arm around him. "is this for lunch?"

he leans over to you and presses a kiss against your cheek. "are you hungry?"

"mhm," you just snuggle in for a moment, enjoying his presence. "you should teach me more recipes you learned from your mom sometime."

jun finds himself smiling already. was that what this all was...? an attempt for you to understand him better? to show that you care for him so much that you want to know his culture, too? "i'd love to," he says softly, and wraps an arm around you to tug you closer to his side. "only if you teach me things you learned from your family, too."

then he'll make more efforts to understand you and your background, too. just to show you that he loves you as much as you love him.

#nonranghaes.thoughts #nonranghaes.svt #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #jun x reader #wen junhui x reader #junhui x reader #jun fluff #junhui fluff #also im just gonna ramble for a second. if i ever get to the point where i feel more comfortable speaking..... god i wish id have a jun #to help me learn the language better. its been interesting to learn so far!! #i def need to start taking notes tho bc guess who cannot count <3 #anyway i fucking love learning languages. inject tht shit directly into my veins. #yknow the post with all the pills w associated abilities??? id be downing the one that lets u speak all languages like. immediately

[songsofadelaide]

You and your husband were hardly sleeping together lately. You couldn't blame him. He was busy beyond words and he had a duty to the realm. He was king, after all.

When Marcille heard you were having trouble sleeping, she personally made you some dream balm, which was really just a concoction of beeswax, fragrant lavender, chamomile, bergamot, and some crimson herb you couldn't identify because the heavens forbid the queen not get enough rest— and more stuff you didn't hear because of how off you've been feeling from the lack of sleep.

So when the evening rolled by with her dusk-coloured skirts across the sky, you decided to turn in for the night and made use of the aromatic balm Marcille concocted especially for you. You rubbed the sweet yet waxy substance on your temples, behind your ears, and a little bit on your wrists and other pulse points and called it a day.

But your sleepiness was chased out of your body because you were hearing things.

Your shared bedchamber with the king was dimly lit and there was no one else there but you.

You could hear the thoughts and desires from your bed frame. Your... your pillow? And not just your thoughts, but Laios', too.

"Kiss me, please—"

"—Let me hold you..."

"You're so beautiful..."

You could hear his thoughts in his voice in your head— his voice so calm and patient and perhaps a bit tired-sounding— as though he was simply whispering them to you. His thoughts were so embarrassingly loud that it did not help your case of sleeplessness at all.

"Don't look away from me... I want to see your face."

The balm was warm behind your ears and on your pulse and it made you cry a little bit because by the gods, you missed your husband and his voice in your head and your half-empty bed were nothing but torment for you. You held his pillow in your arms and ducked under the covers to hide from... from your own embarrassment. If you weren't going to get any sleep, you may as well tire yourself out instead.

Laios was always incredibly honest with himself. He was never one to shy away from things. He would tell you he wants you— he desires you— without missing a beat. And so his voice in your head with his somewhat disrespectful tone, telling you to take all of him, made your imagination work overtime.

"Are you asleep already? I apologise for not being able to spend that much time with you lately..."

Oh, his voice was apologetic this time. Nothing like the seductive phrases you've been hearing for the last half hour or so.

"Ah, Laios..."

It was only when you felt the bed shift and the covers lifted up that you realised it was him for real this time.

"I—" You stammered at him, your face warm and hands even warmer underneath your night garments.

"W—" Laios was about to ask you something, but he hardly got a word in when you grabbed your shared blanket and cocooned yourself in complete shock. "Hey, there's no need to hide from me..."

He coaxed you out of the covers and into his arms and tenderly kissed away the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"My lord husband, I—"

He chuckled at how cold his title sounded as it escaped your lips. "Didn't I hear you call me by my name just moments ago?"

"I-It's embarrassing enough that you caught me in such a state!"

"Well, you don't have to be in that kind of state if you would just call for me," he said as he rubbed circles on the back of your dominant hand. "I have my duties to this kingdom, but I also have my duties to you, my queen, my wife... Just tell Marcille and Kabru that you need me. I'll come running no matter where I am or what I'm doing."

"Oh, right. Marcille gave me this weird balm. She said it was supposed to be a sleep remedy but it got me all hot and bothered instead because I was hearing you all over the place..."

You handed the canister of balm to your husband, who twisted it open and gave it a little whiff. "Lavender, chamomile, bergamot... and some saffron, if I'm right. No wonder you're burning up."

"Why?"

"Saffron is a, uh..." It was his turn to be embarrassed this time. "Well, Senshi and Chilchuck once told me to steer clear of certain plants because of their... certain strange properties. Saffron is one of them. They're kind of like an aphrodisiac, after all."

"A... what?"

"Let's just say it's a spice," he said in conclusion, slowly drawing you into a kiss. "Now, do you want to pick up where you left off? Only I'm here now, so..."

On the other side of the castle was the advisor to the king and the kingdom's head mage in complete panic at how she accidentally switched turmeric for saffron for the queen's dream balm.

Kabru simply laughed off her rookie mistake. "You did them a favour, Marcille. Trust me when I say the king's going to thank you first thing in the morning."

✦ A little something again for us Laios lovers. Can be considered a spiritual sequel to Means Something.

#songsofadelaidewrites💛 #mari's prompts 🎠 #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #laios touden x reader #laios x reader #laios dungeon meshi #i dreamt of this and typed it in a rush because i might forget #things i can't stop thinking abt lol #starry divider by @/cafekitsune

[nsfwarros1]

has gortash ever had a…. how to explain…. like. A ‘i can do it’ moment, when he very clearly can’t? in terms of stuffing i mean.

Like, cas can very clearly tell he is too drunk and/or is pushing himself too hard, and he looks stuffed but he keeps trying to eat more, and it’s so very obviously for cas, he doesn’t even realize just how much he’s confessing when he insists that Cas can keep feeding him, even when he looks sick to his stomach, and like he’s fit to burst?

like it’s his mission now, to prove to cas that he wants whatever cas wants, and cas won’t believe him. so he does whatever he can as under the radar as he can, even though it’s so blatantly obvious?

and if so, has cas ever been like… worried that he might hurt himself by eating too much? like… Yknow, in his Casim way, worried about him?

much to think about…. 💭

ooh yes he did. It's not a common thing since usually Gortash very much just gives Cas the control over the whole thing, however sometimes... how do I phrase this... they will use a stuffing session as a weird way of making up. As in if they had a fight or some minor disagreement they will make up but Gortash tends to still feel bad about it so he lets Cas do the one thing that Gortash knows Cas always wnjoys. during those dinners specifically he did do that a few times, try to stuff himself more, beg Cas to feed him more when it was so very clear that he was close to passing out from it. I suppose it's a way for him to tell himself he always gives Cas what he wants if he feels guilty but also to show Cas that he'd do everything for him cause I mean... that IS usually what their fights boil down to😖

The thing is that Cas knows Gortash's body well, not even just in the "they have done this for years and Cas has literally done so much intimate/caretaking stuff for him in general" but ALSO in the way where Cas isn't exactly ignorant when it comes to human bodies. He studied them a lot back then, studied how to break the people he wanted to break perfectly, studied how far he can push certain things without breaking his contract, you get the gist💭 So Cas knows exactly at what point it'd get too unbearable or even dangerous for Gortash and he'd never push him past that OR allow him to go that far to prove some point. Like yes Cas will push it reaaaally far sometimes but the moment Gortash could actually be in danger or harmed? He still snaps out of it

Even with that in mind though I suppose on those days Gortash is definitely pushing himself to a stomach ache and major discomfort and, well, Cas is still worried at that point, in his own way. on one hand Gortash isn't someone that complains a lot, he takes pain pretty well especially since he craves Cas' hands on him and his care to relieve him but Cas I mean.... he would obviously not do that if he wasn't the slightest bit worried about the pain being not easy to bear, if that makes sense. He wouldn't treat him the way he does if he wasn't genuinely trying to help or, in a way, make up for doing that to him because Cas he.... tends to almost be uncharacteristically gentle when it comes to aftercare like that

#blakemail #gortcas nsft lore #honestly the fact that he snaps out of it is applicable to other scenarios too #he teases and mocks until it's actually serious. until Gortash is actually slightly in pain or has something else going on #like he is someone that pushes things very far yes but in the end Gortash can still trust him unconditionally #stuffing

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Tell Me (Be a Doll AU)

Vox x doll!reader, Vox is softer than usual!

CW: lover obsession, manipulation, mind control, Vox being a little shit (Albeit, less than usual), AU typical events

Note: Vox is manipulative, possessive, jealous, impulsive, controlling, and harsh in this AU. He can be extremely violent towards reader, and is consistently abusing them either way. He is not a good person! If anyone is sensitive to or may have a negative reaction from these topics, I recommend clicking away now.

Summary: Vox catches you pouring your heart out onto paper about your love for him. He takes this as a perfect opportunity to go fishing for compliments, but gets a bit carried away, and ends up demanding so much praise from you. So, so much. It’s endless.

As I sat at my desk, lost in a world of doodles and daydreams, my pen danced across the paper, tracing hearts and writing phrases that spoke of a love so deep it bordered on obsession. Each stroke of the pen was a declaration of devotion to Vox, my boss, my love. The paper was littered with declarations of love, each one more fervent than the last.

Vox entered the room, his presence commanding attention, as usual. He wore a new suit, better tailored, likely to accommodate for his latest upgrades- his TV head had been replaced, and was now about an inch or two bigger than before. Other than that he looked mostly the same. Not many others would’ve noticed the difference, but he was my entire world. Most of my time was spent with him, thinking about him, so of course I noticed.

His eyes fell upon the paper, and a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "What's this?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement. He leaned forward with a mischievous grin, trying to get a peek at the words I’d written.

I felt a flush of embarrassment creep into my cheeks, but Vox’s expression softened, and I could see the hint of fondness in his eyes. “Oh, it’s nothing, just… doodles,” I mumbled, trying to hide the paper from his view.

Vox was not so easily deterred. With a swift motion, he plucked the paper from my grasp and examined it closely. His smirk grew wider as he read each declaration of love, his amusement evident.

I felt my face get hotter- I was probably as red as a tomato at this point. God, I was embarrassed. I loved him but I’d never- I was careful to- I didn’t even know how he’d respond! How would he react? It was plenty weird, to be sure, but many things were in our relationship. "Just a little something I was working on," I said, trying to downplay the situation.

Vox took a step closer, his gaze fixed on the paper, inspecting every detail. He had a fond sort of smile on his face. "May I?" he asked, extending a hand towards the other doodles.

I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, sliding the paper towards him. Vox picked it up and examined it closely, his smirk growing wider with each passing second. "These are quite...interesting," he said, his tone teasing. "You seem to have quite the affection for me."

I felt my cheeks grow warmer under his gaze, but Vox's expression was one of amusement rather than scorn. "I do," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I love you more than anything."

Vox chuckled, a low, melodious sound that sent shivers down my spine. "I can see that," he said, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. He found this endearing, flattering more than anything. His little doll, acting like a little lovesick puppy for him. "Tell me, do you really mean all of this?"

I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of nervousness wash over me. But Vox's expression was kind, almost gentle, and I found myself nodding in response. "Yes," I said, my voice barely audible. I was fidgeting nervously as I looked away. "I mean every word."

Vox's smile softened, and he reached out to cup my cheek with his hand. "You're such a charming doll," he said, his voice warm and affectionate as he pulled me towards him. "I'm lucky to have you."

His touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, and I leaned into his hand instinctively. "I love you," I whispered, before to stop myself. I nuzzled my face against his hand, hardly even minding what I’d just said. He was being kind- genuinely soft and sweet- this didn’t happen often. I was going to savor it.

Vox's smile widened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "And I love you," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "Now, be a doll and tell me again."

His words washed over me like a tidal wave, and I felt myself slipping under his control. "I love you," I said, my eyes glossy as I looked up at him, a perfect little smile on my face. I’d immediately adapted softer, more relaxed and doll-like mannerisms. My voice was quieter, not out of nervousness, but simply because it made me seem more delicate, like a doll. "I love you more than anything."

Vox's smile grew triumphant, and he pulled me into his arms, holding me close. "That's right," he said, his voice a soft whisper in my ear. He gripped me tightly, possessively, his nails digging into me slightly. Only slightly. "You're mine, completely and utterly. And I wouldn't have it any other way."

As Vox held me close, I felt a sense of peace wash over me, his presence like a soothing balm to my previously troubled mind. Despite the darkness that lurked within him, I couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort in his embrace. I loved him. It felt so silly to be embarrassed about the doodles and words I’d written on those papers, now. Needless worry, really. He loved me, and he’d just expressed as much. I was his, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. The thought made me oddly happy, even in my doll-state.

As he held me, a familiar command echoed in my mind, pulling me further into a state of docility. "Be a doll," Vox's voice rang out, his tone playful yet commanding. Without hesitation, I straightened up, my movements fluid and graceful, like a puppet on strings. My gaze fixed on Vox, waiting for his next command, my mind blissfully empty.

Vox rested his hand on my waist, keeping me close. A smirk played on his lips as he studied me. "Now, tell me how much you adore me," he said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He ran his fingers through my hair as I processed the order for a moment.

A surge of excitement coursed through me, and I couldn't help but feel a rush of affection for him. I grinned, a bit of my genuine self shining through as I spoke. "Oh, Vox," I gushed, my voice soft and adoring. "You're simply incredible. I can't imagine my life without you! You’re always so thoughtful and nice and just absolutely wonderful!”

Vox's smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Go on," he encouraged, his tone teasing. "I want to hear more."

With each word of praise, I felt my heart swell with adoration for Vox. "You're so intelligent, so powerful," I continued, my voice growing more animated with each passing moment. "And you're so handsome, too. Besides that, you have the best shark facts! You buffer when I flirt too much and it’s always so adorable, your screen displays Tv static when you sleep, accompanied by white noise and it’s very comforting, one of my favorite parts of sleeping in the same bed as you. I love you so much. I'm lucky to have you in my life."

“Good girl,” Vox chuckled, stroking my hair as though I was a cat he was petting. “That's what I like to hear," he said, his tone pleased. "You truly are a delight, doll."

As Vox continued to coax praise and compliments from me, I felt a sense of euphoria wash over me. Despite being under his control, I couldn't help but feel a genuine affection for him. “I love you!” I said enthusiastically, a wide grin on my face. I’d shower him in a flurry of small kisses all along his screen, compliments whispered in between each one. With each word of praise, I felt myself growing more and more eager to please Vox, to shower him with affection and adoration. I loved him so fucking much! I would always be his loyal, devoted doll.

As Vox led me to his favorite armchair, watching me with a playful glint in his eye. He positioned me in his lap, and began playing with my hair. "Be a doll," he said, his voice smooth as silk, "and tell me how handsome I am today."

Without hesitation, I obeyed, my movements fluid and graceful as I leaned towards him. "You're the most handsome man I've ever seen," I said, my voice soft and distant, as if speaking from a dream. “You remind me of a cat,” I added, after a moment, with a small laugh. “You’re absolutely stunning, darling.”

Vox chuckled, a sound that sent a shiver down my spine. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he said, his tone teasing. "Now, tell me again." He was enjoying this. Every single goddamn moment. Every word you spoke. This was exactly what he’d needed today.

I felt a surge of excitement wash over me, and I couldn't help but smile as I repeated my praise for him. "You're perfect," I said, my voice growing more animated with each word. "Every inch of you is perfection."

Vox's smile widened, and he reached out to ruffle my hair affectionately. "Good girl," he said, his tone filled with satisfaction. "Now, be a doll and tell me more about how much you love me."

I felt a rush of affection flood through me, and I leaned in closer to him, my heart pounding with excitement. "I love you more than words can express," I said, my voice filled with genuine emotion. "You mean everything to me, Vox."

Vox's expression softened, and he pulled me further into his lap, holding me close. "And you mean everything to me," he said, his voice a soft whisper in my ear. "I couldn't imagine my life without you."

BONUS:

As Vox continued to bask in the adoration I showered upon him, he couldn't help but revel in the power he held over me. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he decided to push the boundaries further.

"Be a doll," he murmured, his voice low and enticing, "and tell me how much you crave my affection."

Without hesitation, I complied, my movements graceful and fluid as I leaned in closer to him. "I crave your affection more than anything. I don’t think I could live without it. I need you, Vox," I said, my voice tinged with longing. "Please, Vox, I need you to hold me."

Vox's smile widened, his ego inflated by my desperate pleas. "That's right," he said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. His grip on me tightened, nails digging into my skin. "You're mine, completely and utterly. And you'll do anything to please me, won't you?"

I nodded eagerly, my heart racing with excitement. "Yes, Vox," I said, my voice filled with genuine devotion. "I'll do anything for you. Just please, give me attention, show me some affection. I’ll take anything, please, Vox, please."

Vox chuckled, his fingers trailing lightly down my arm. "Of course, doll," he said gently, as if telling a child to be patient. He made small scratches that looked like tally marks along the arm of the chair. I wasn’t sure what he was keeping track of. "But first, be a doll and tell me how wonderful I am."

I faltered for a moment, then flinched as a shock went through me. "Go on," he said, his voice gentle yet commanding. "Be a doll and tell me how much you love me."

His words washed over me like a wave, and I found myself obeying without hesitation. "I love you more than anything in this world," I said quietly. I smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, soft, almost as if it were rehearsed rather than natural. "You're my everything, my reason for being."

Vox laughed softly, and tugged gently on a strand of my hair. "That's right, doll," he said, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "You belong to me."

With each passing moment, Vox's control over me seemed to strengthen, and I found myself sinking deeper into the trance he had cast. His questions prodded at the depths of my devotion, and with each answer, I felt myself spiraling further into his grasp.

"I would do anything for you," I said, my voice distant and hollow, but with that same serene smile on my face. There was a certain emptiness that lay beneath my perfect expression. "Without you, I'm nothing."

Vox's smile widened, his eyes alight with triumph. "Good girl," he said, his voice like a velvet caress. "You're mine, only mine. I own you. You belong to me, I am your one and only obligation. You do this because you love me, and because you know I love you."

I nodded eagerly and quickly agreed, more compliments falling from my lips with ease.

As Vox continued to bask in the adoration pouring from my lips, he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. "Be a doll," he murmured, his voice laced with amusement, "and tell me how much you need me."

Without hesitation, I nodded eagerly, my movements smooth and controlled. "I need you more than anything," I said, my voice filled with longing. "You're the light of my life, Vox. Without you, I'm lost."

Vox's smile widened at my words, his ego growing with each declaration of my devotion. "That's right," he said, his tone playful. "You can't live without me, can you?"

I shook my head, a playful grin spreading across my face. "No," I admitted, shifting to match his tone. "I'm completely and utterly addicted to you, Vox. You're like a drug, and I can't get enough."

Vox laughed, a sound that echoed through the room like music to my ears. "Good girl. That's what I like to hear," he said, gleefully. "Now, be a doll and tell me how much you want me to hold you."

My heart raced at his words, and I practically melted into his arms as he pulled me close. "I want you to hold me forever," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. This was more genuine. "I never want to leave your side, Vox. You're all I need."

With each word, I felt myself growing more and more content and relaxed. I just needed him, nothing else. "I love you, Vox," I whispered, my voice filled with genuine emotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."

Vox's smile softened, and he pulled me close, holding me tight against his chest. "And I love you, doll," he said, his voice a gentle whisper. "You're everything to me, my precious little doll."

As Vox held me close, I felt a sense of warmth and contentment wash over me, his affection soothing, a cure to all my problems. Despite the playful banter and the demands, there was a tenderness in his touch that spoke volumes. In his arms, I felt safe, cherished, and utterly adored. And for that, I would gladly praise him endlessly, for as long as he desired.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #vox x reader #x reader #reader insert #my writing #ao3 writer #writing #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfic #vox fanfiction #vox is in hell for a reason #be a doll

[disco-elysium-sideblog]

hey! can we see your playthrough notes?

You absolutely can! A lot of them have made it into my posts in one way or another, so it probably won't be a lot thoughts people haven't seen before, but I'm happy to share! It's definitely fun to look back on now that I know more about the game. These notes were intended just for me to organize my thoughts so they might not make a lot of sense to other people, or be phrased in the best possible way. Also TW for a self harm mention

I hope it's everything you hoped for lol

#disco elysium #love how my notes go back and forth between first second and third person to talk about Harry #self harm tw #some of the phrasing here is weird #like the way I talked about Kim once kinda made it sound like I liked him *because* he handled racism stoically and that's not true at all #in my first playthrough I immediately pushed over the pale emitter instead of talking to Ruby so you can see me being shocked by some fairl #basic plot points in the second playthrough lol #I'm not going to fix the spelling mistakes it adds to the vibe #i also started but didn't complete the communism quest in my first playthrough #the tribunal really caught me by surprise ok!! #I also wanted to wait until after my third playthrough to look at fandom stuff to avoid spoilers but then I didn't #and I still haven't finished my third playthrough!! #it gets mentioned in the notes but sometimes when I hyperfixate on something hard enough I get afraid to engage with it because I don't wan #to 'ruin' it #I'll finish my third playthrough eventually

[unproduciblesmackdown]

mordecai is the first funny bitch like spends 90% of his time literally just standing there going "i'm dapressed" to himself while everyone in the vicinity takes potshots and then he's clocking in for the night shift where for the next 9 hours people go "god mordecai would it kill you to act like you're having more fun at the [kills you] factory"

#The First Funny Bitch as a phrase from the ''cain was the first funny bitch'' post that i will use with some flexibility. yaknow. #i love going like oh boy a coworker triumvirate. their funny little guy (other duo going ''i want him dead'') #though it's unfair to the savoys lmfao if he's at best sometimes a desk toy to them: they do at least keep calling him babygirl #and giving him special mordecai invitations (by not inviting him) to their hotel room to try to marry him #so if nothing else we do appreciate adding a ton of flair to [afflicting the autistic coworker] #in turn i appreciate that mordecai and viktor's dynamic probably consisted of mutual ''i Do Not Care if my coworker seems weird'' #but outside of that; was anyone at lackadaisy aggrieving mordecai with the style & variety that the savoys bring....perhaps not #an upgrade in that realm....and there seems to be Some mutual [i do not care if my coworker seems weird] there again too lol #even while they've all probably been working together like half a week & haven't all worn their getalong sweater long enough #and already mordecai is doing his [not just literally standing there] rogue lone mystery solving deal lmao. wild card that he is #lackadaisy #oh also speaking of [before mordecai went grr i Hate still working here; ripped off the fridge door; went & got a new Hated job] #it's pure bonus comic realm & particularly Elevated Silly Goofs genre at that; but #points for ivy having that Younger Sibling dynamic w/mordecai w/the implication she takes his forbidden condiments index seriously #and like; in general lol not even just a [it's serious when it comes to dealing with this weird guy] way. all the more powerful for that #wait i nearly forgot to mention the hot new otp: mordecai / j.j. #that's right [sad trombone] providing guy. i know enough. first funny bitch 4 first funny bitch. #[guy doing his own thing & everyone's like Get His Ass] 4 [guy doing his own thing & everyone's like Get His Ass] #and ofc because it is funny in & of itself. & basically like Your New OC. so much room to maneuver that you cannot crash #also hmm like if your nickname for someone is Maybe ''annoying mf'' does it cancel out....eh #numbers flying around intense focus like everything points to ''hatchet would directly translate to hatchette not petit hache'' #and if you mon petit hache it (read this w/such a meter that it all rhymes) #900 tons of restraint not going ''wow this is just like analyzing billions'' & by even saying i've managed to avoid as much; now i haven't

[sanstropfremir]

I love the fact that Yunho stayed true to his artistry throughout the years. Sadly the same can’t be said for younger male idols like Taemin or Kai, in my opinion, who strayed so far away from what we saw of them doing in their groups. And it got me thinking; how much of it is them and how much of it is SM’s marketing strategy? How can their group self and solo self be soooo different? For me they’re not selling their solo self well enough to convince me that that them you know what I am? It feels almost like they’re acting (yes, every performer acts a little bit) but with Kai and Taemin it looks like they’re both playing a role…

#i genuinely do not know how to answer this sldkfsdkljfsldkjf #but you probably should have read more than one post on my blog before you sent this #considering i 1) have several of the top posts in the taemin meta tag #and 2) one of the things i talk about quite frequently is about HOW ACTING IS IMPORTANT TO GOOD PERFORMANCE #unironically: do you think every idol is totally genuine in their performances? and that 'playing a role' means something is bad art?? #bc if you do you need to get a grip real quick darling bc i can guarantee that even yunho is 'playing a role' #...do you not think that human beings have depth??? that they can want to portray more than one thing in different performances??? #look. if you dont like taemin and kai's solo work that's totally fine. you are allowed to have your opinions and disliking things is fine #but to say that neither of them are 'selling' their work well enough to you bc it 'looks like theyre acting'?????? #kindly but what the fuck is wrong with you #what the fuck else do you want them to DO???????? #taemin especially has talked a LOT on many separate occasions for many years now about how much artistic input he has and how he makes work #also also: literally WHO CARES if its sm marketing?? i'm here for the music and for the performances not some weird parasocial shit #i am under no impression that i know anything about these artists' personal lives or what theyre really like and i dont care to know #all i care about is the work that gets produced and if its good or not #text #answers #i cant believe someone had the audacity to send ME. A TRAINED THEATRE PROFESSIONAL!! the phrase ''yes every performer acts a little bit'' #do you hear yourself. do you. #i almost thought this was bait bc you literally managed to hit every point i would strongly disagree with you on #like some kind of perverse internet argument bingo. i feel like i should applaud you. well done! #hall of fame asks

[6ebe]

a lot of people on here weirdly obsessed with f1 drivers as children 🤨

#like not calling them creeps but why are you acting like a update blog for a 10 year old child #like I don’t mind occasionally bc it’s cute but like digging up stuff yourself as opposed to content shared by the individual TO ME is #a little odd. I’m not phrasing it well #it’s not alwsys weird but at a certain point it can get a little weird snshsjdkdkdkd #or even that one shirtless video clip of like 19 year old Charles #he looks literally so young in that video 😭😭 #like maybe I’m a puritan idc but. hmm

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #laios touden #shuro #toshiro nakamoto #the winged lion #autistic #autism #clay writes #i GUESS #this was so spur of the moment. im so busy right now i dont have time to be analysing laios touden #i wuont angry autistic rep..

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 4. (read 1, 2, 3) tags: dubcon; nsfw

-

You only realize after the fact that you may have miscalculated in thinking that this could be a one-time thing between the two of you. 

After listening to Johnny bitch and moan during the Christmas party about having to take time off work to spend the holidays with his very religious family, you delude yourself into thinking you’ll finally be able to have some peace and quiet around the store. Not literally, of course. Working during the holidays is always a recipe for exhaustion—parents coming in at the last minute to demand toys that have long since sold out, fights breaking out in every other aisle as customers fight for the last palatable set of Christmas ornaments and boxed fruit cake. 

You’re not delusional enough to think that work will be a piece of cake, but you are selfishly a little happy that you’ll finally get some time to breathe without Johnny hovering over your shoulder at all hours of your shift. Seasonal shoppers are as exhausting as always, but you get to sit alone in the breakroom with a cup of coffee in the morning right before your shift without someone staring at you or breathing into your personal bubble. 

Johnny spends his entire time off blowing up your phone, sending you pictures of his childhood home, calling you during your breaks, and sending you weird videos that seem to have been filmed entirely in the dark where you can’t see or hear anything apart from some weird squeaks and one loud grunt at the very end of the video that sounds kind of like—you close the video.

You spend the first few days of January dreading his return. The day of is like a shock to your nervous system, the whole morning spent pouring coffee with a trembling hand. 

“Hiya gorgeous,” he purrs when you clock in for your shift. You’re somewhat used to Johnny sneaking up behind you, so you don’t flinch this time when you feel the length of his body press up against you at the time clock. 

“Johnny, it’s seven in the morning,” you mutter out through pursed lips, shoulders stiff when he puts his hands on them and digs his thumbs into the tender points of your back. You bite back a moan.

“Missed ye, kitten. Cannae believe I went a whole week without hearing you purr.”

He could’ve phrased that a thousand other ways, but he just had to choose the one that would make you wince. He digs his thumbs in again, trying to push the moan out of you, but you tamp it down. You hold back a shudder when he plants his nose onto the crown of your head and inhales, drawing your scent into his lungs. 

“Where’ye assigned ta today? Jeff owes me a favour—gonna ask him if I can spend the day with ye so we can catch up.” 

You go still when he drops a firm kiss to the side of your head. “I’m…not sure. I haven’t checked the schedule yet.” It’s a half-lie. You may not have checked the schedule yet, but you know from having briefly chatted with your manager this morning in the parking lot where you’ll be spending most of your day.

Still, it means that you get to shake off Johnny for a bit. “Lemme go check for ye, okay, hen? Stay here, a’right?”

You watch him jog off down the hall to the breakroom before finally leaving. It’ll be better for you if you’re gone before he comes back. 

The first hour of your day is spent on softlines until Priya in jewellery randomly comes down with a chill and gets sent home early, forcing you to cover her section. Usually that wouldn’t be such a bad deal—it means you get to spend your shift helping people try on bracelets and rings, restocking the earring display, and leaning against the counter for hours at a time. It’s not a particularly busy station.  

While you're assigned to the jewellery section though, Johnny pops out of nowhere as you're helping a customer contemplating a birthday ring for his fiancé. With the kind of confidence that you’ve come to expect from Johnny, he uses your hand to model some of the rings, but this time it feels oddly weirdly intense. When he slides the first ring onto your finger, you can feel the way he holds his breath, even shudders a bit. He presses himself right up against you behind the display counter, hardness pressing against your hip. 

It doesn’t take long for your customer to leave. Johnny’s demeanour is off-putting, concerning even. You can’t fault the guy for being rightfully repulsed by the way Johnny crowds up against you like you’re alone together. 

“What are you doing?” you hiss through your teeth.

“Cannae help it, hen. I ken ye wanna wait, but it jus’ makes me a bit emotional seein’ my girl wearing a ring I put on.”

He blinks down at you with big, blue eyes, the picture of innocence. You should’ve anticipated there being a danger in letting Johnny stew over that on his own. Of course he’d come to his own conclusions, even one as deranged as thinking of your hook up as a step towards dating. You can’t help but side eye him. 

“We—we’re not a couple, Johnny.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Ye just let anybody eat you out in the supply closet then? S’that right?” It’s said rhetorically, like he knows the answer already. You flinch at the slight though.

“That was—” you cut yourself off to take a breath, an ache growing behind your forehead, “—that was a…it was a one-time thing. You can’t just act like we’re dating.”

His lips turn down in a pout, displeasure rippling across his face. You brace yourself for the inevitable argument, for shit to hit the fan, because obviously that’s what’s brewing under the surface. You brace yourself for worse too because when you happen to glance around, you realize how few people are actually milling around in the area. 

Then, instead of losing his temper, Johnny’s eyes grow smoky, heavy-lidded, and the pout lifts into a lazy, playful grin. “A’right, kitty, no’ dating then. That’s fine wi’ me.”

This time it’s you that frowns, staring up at him dubiously. “…Really?” It feels too sudden, quicksilver. Johnny’s fiery by nature, short tempered on his best days and more likely to grit his teeth and bear the displeasure of not getting his way than happily giving into it. His sudden smile is at odds with the version of him that exists in your mind, furious at you for denying him. 

Maybe you’ve got him all wrong. 

The gleam in his eye betrays nothing, however. “I swear.” He leans closer to you then, fingers fiddling with the name tag pinned over your chest on your work vest, straightening it. “Doesnae mean we have ta give the rest up though. Ye liked what we did in the closet, right, hen?”

It feels like he’s sucked the air out of the room, as big as it is. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“Och, c’mon, kitty,” Johnny breathes, hunching just a little over and into your space, making the moment feel private, just the two of you. “Had to talk about it eventually. Did ye just expect that everything would go back to normal after ye let me eat ye out? Hey—” he catches you when you try to make a move to step away from him, wrapping a big hand around your wrist and tugging you closer to him, “—listen, kitty—it doesnae have to be anything serious, right? That’s what’s making ye all jumpy and nervous? I’ll lick your pussy, free of charge. Dinnae need any labels. How’s that sound, kitty? Dick on demand?”

It should repulse you. The way he speaks to you is crass, crude. His voice is hushed, haggard, fur stretched taut over stone—and yet, your hands tremble, just a little. It tempts you. Purring Scottish burr, lapis lazuli eyes, bristle cheeks that you still remember scraping up your inner thighs. He’s a package you can’t imagine sending back.

“You won’t get…you promise not to get weird about it?” you ask.

His smile curls up, impish. “Cross my heart, kitten.”

Maybe you’re delusional enough to think that you can have your cake and eat it too. There’s a voice in your head telling you to face the facts, but you disregard it as if you haven’t been working with Johnny for months. As if you aren’t aware of his penchant for saying or doing anything to get his way. It’s maybe naive of you. 

All you know is that he smothers a laugh when you tell him you’ll think about it. Knows he’s got you right where he wants.

You don’t fight when he drags you into the single-stall bathroom towards the end of your shift, letting him position you in front of the mirror before sinking to his knees behind you. Forces you to watch the way you come apart on his tongue, not giving you his fingers until you beg him to, the whispered plea a hairsbreadth away from becoming a scream. 

“Oh, did she miss me?” Johnny breathes, a happy laugh in his voice when he runs the broad side of his tongue over your entrance from the back. “Fuck, look at that. Winked at me ‘n everythin’. Hi darling, missed ye too.”

You don’t think you’ll ever be the same after hearing that come out of his mouth. You go hot all over again when you clench involuntarily, equal parts turned on and horrified. He sniggers before trying to cram his whole tongue up into you. 

There’s a moment of panic when Johnny draws up behind you after making you come and you hear him undo his pants. There’s nowhere for you to go with your pants still looped around your ankles, underwear pulled all the way down as well. You hear yourself hiss a startled Johnny when he slots a fat cock between your thighs, staring dumbly at the reflection of him behind you. At your back, he seems massive, lean and trim but towering over you, broad. 

He shushes you. “Dinnae be selfish, hen—gotta get mine too. Jus’ gonna fuck your thighs, dinnae fret.”

You squeak when he pushes your thighs together forcefully, dragging his cock over your folds to wet himself. Watching Johnny fuck is nothing like staring down at him when he eats you out. He pants harsh and ragged into the side of your head, nips at your ear. The glint in his eyes goes animalistic, vacant. Human desire recedes, subsumed into the animal part of his brain with the single-minded need to fuck. 

The only thing keeping him from driving up into you, accidentally or not, is the way you keep your thighs pressed together. A warm, tight channel for him to push his cock into. Thick fingers dig into your waist, sure to leave bruises. You wince when lean hips pound against your backside, growing frantic as need overtakes him. You flirt at the edge of panic, certain that at any second, he’ll pull your thighs apart and nudge the head of his cock up into you. 

“Jus’ like that, fuck,” he grunts. “Be a good little fuckin’ girl and jus’ let me—”

His tongue lolls out on a particularly rough thrust, hands groping over your belly and up to your chest, slipping his hand under your shirt and bra to pinch your nipple. He twists it mean, nasty, until you have no choice but to grunt through grit teeth, eyes watering. You feel like a doll meant for his pleasure, no choice but to grip the sides of the sink and let Johnny use you until he comes. 

“Fuck,” Johnny groans, eyes going half-lidded. “Love makin’ this pussy come. Love gettin’ her all messy and wet. Lettin’ me between your thighs even when I make ye nervous—fuck, ‘m gonna come, ‘m gonna—fuck, fuck, fuck—”

White come stripes the sink in front of you, thick and viscous. Paints the inside of your thighs as well when he drags his hips back until just the head of his cock sits nestled up against your sex. Hyperconscious of where it tags your inner lips, that there’s no barrier between the two of you, just come and skin. 

The full body shake shocks you, a ripple from your heels to the top of your head. 

His free hand grasps you by the hair when you try to slip away. “Ye gonna clean up your mess, baby?”

You glance back up at his reflection in the mirror, trying to suss him out. Shark-like eyes meet yours. Something you’ve seen in glances before finally staring back at you with full force. You reach for the paper towel dispenser with a shaking hand. 

“Nah,” Johnny scolds, giving you a shake. “With your mouth.”

The command hangs in the air, no joke or laugh to undercut it. His eyes read serious to you, still dark. No leniency present in the blue. 

You stare down at his come on the sink, slack-jawed. “You don’t seriously mean—”

“Jus’ kidding, silly,” he chuckles, giving a teasing bite to your earlobe and tugging. The tension in the air disperses. “Got ye, huh?” 

You force a laugh. “Yeah…got me.”

#i cant believe this shit is at 10k and i still have another part to write #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x you #soap/reader #ikea soap

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

#jungkook #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #jjk #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #fluff #bangtan #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #bts jk #jjk fanfic #blurb #fanfic #jjk x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeongguk #bts x reader #drabble #jjk fluff

[luvrxbunny]

Hey lady can I request gynecologist Miguel? Tomorrow I’m going to the gynecologist I’m freaking out 😨🥲

fucckkk

i wrote like half of this and then it disappeared so i apologize if it seems lazy or weird it’s cus i hate tumblr

also this is closer to perv!gyno Miguel 😈

ANYWAY!! LETS GET HORNY

“hello. im miguel, i’ll be your doctor today. i know it can be uncomfortable for some women to have a male doctor but we’re understaffed at the moment.”

your nervousness is a part of your bloodstream at this point and the male presence is not helping. “s-so there’s no one else?” you ask timidly, still staring up at the ceiling as you speak, too embarrassed to see the look on his face. you hear a faint chuckle behind you and your nervous sweats start up, sending an uncomfortable shiver through you. “no, sweetheart, i’m sorry. it’s just me.” you nod silently.

his voice is soothing but more nerve wracking at the same time. it’s calming due to how smooth and deep it is but it’s also adding a new worry to your arsenal. he walks around your chair and comes into view. you can’t see his face due the light in your face but you can see how big he is. his broad shoulders almost take up your entire view as he looms over you. you pretend not to feel the way your pushy flutters at his sheer size.

however you’re unable to ignore the way your thighs tense once you can see his features. he has dark curls framing his face, high cheekbones, a defined jaw, dark crimson eyes, and pinkish lips. his eyebrows twitch with a subtle amused smile that makes you feel like he can tell but stays silent.

he turns to his desk, grabs his clipboard, a chair and pulls himself up to the side of your little bed/seat. “so this is just an annual checkup, yes?” you take a deep breath and nod silently before realizing he’s not looking at you. “mhm. yes, yes.” he nods while scribbling something down. he flips one page and his face twitches in confusion. “and—“ he checks another page before flipping back. “and this is your first checkup..?”

his eyes are wide with shock when he looks up at you and you have to avert your gaze to breathe. “uhm… yeah.” his eyes wide even further like he didn’t believe what he was seeing on the papers. “reall—? i mean i- okay.” he shakes his head and takes a deep breath before meeting your eyes again. “i hope you aren’t too nervous” you shrug silently as your stomach churns. he smiles softly and starts the appointment

meow meow meow mini time skip!!

he slides his gloves on and you jump at the snap of the latex. “legs on the stirrups please.” he phrases it like a question but it has the force of a command. you gasp quietly at the cold air on your pussy. he walks around and takes a seat at the edge of the chair, right between your legs. you hear him take a deep breath and fear shoots through you, waiting to be scolded or chastised for something. but he stays silent and just gets to work.

his fingers spread above your pussy, pressing down gently and his thumb covers your clit, immediately starting it’s circling movements. you tense and sit up, about to say something but his face is straight and focused, giving you no signs of foul play.

is this normal? it must be.

you sit back down and he gives a low hum of approval. you try not to squirm or moan as he toys with you. your pussy is suddenly flooding with your slick. you were worried about being too dry in the midst of your nerves and anxiety but now you’re definitely getting too wet.

in truth, miguel doesn’t know what’s come over him. he’s just obsessed with how pretty your pussy is. your soft, plump lips are basically calling to him, your pink nub, pulsing in his face. you’re teasing him. and now— the way your floodgates have opened for him? you’re leaking. so how is it his fault that he has to finger you now?

his gloved hand is prodding at your entrance and pushing in within the minute. you shoot up again but your eyes meet his this time. “is this okay?” he asks with a voice you swear should be in a bedroom setting. you’re breathless, chest is heaving as you stare at him. “w-what?” you ask, baffled by his question. his head tilts and his fingers crook up to press into your g-spot. you yelp and your knees cave in, almost touching as your orgasm builds in your stomach. “are you feeling any… discomfort?”

your eyes almost cross at his teasing tone but instead you shut them and shake your head rigorously. “m-mm. no discomfort.” you let out a whiny breath at the end of your sentence and hold back a beg as you reach the edge.

miguel can see your legs begin to shake, trembling at his sides before tensing and freezing. your eyes are shut tight as you cum on his fingers, squeezing around them rhythmically as your fingers dig into the leather of the seats, leaving little tears from your finger nails. he watches the way your hole clenches around his fingers and pushes out a new load of your essence, making his fingers glisten along with the trail a droplet is leaving on your skin, leading down to your ass and his cover sheet.

he’ll probably have to cut that part out and take it home with him

FUCK I HOPE I DIDN’T BURN MYSELF OUT AGAIN

IM LITERALLY WRITING THIS AT 12:38AM 😭

#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel imagine #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara spider man #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara drabble #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara #2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #sm 2099 #miguel 2099 #spiderman 2099 #marvel 2099

[headspace-hotel]

Just spent a couple hours digging into this book. I'm not even sure what has worse environmental impacts, the paper the book is made of or the opinions printed within.

Is "post-colonial" literary theory a joke? It's distressing that a book printed in 2021 by a reputable academic press can be so painfully Eurocentric, and I mean PAINFULLY. The philosophical and literary frameworks drawn upon in most chapters are like what some British guy in 1802 would come up with. In most of the chapters, every framework, terminology, and example is inseparably fused to Latin, Greek, and/or Christian philosophers, myths and texts, even down to the specific turns of phrase. You would think only Europeans had history or ideas until the 20th century.

Don't get me wrong, non-european and even specifically anti-colonial sources are used, and I don't think all the writers are white people, but...that's what's so weird and off-putting about it, most of the book as a whole utterly fails to absorb anything from non-European and in particular anti-colonial points of view. The chapters will quote those points of view but not incorporate them or really give their ideas the time of day, just go right back to acting like Plato and Aristotle and Romantic poets are the gold standard for defining what it means to be human.

In brief, the book is trying to examine how literature can shed light on the climate crisis, which is funny because it completely fails to demonstrate that literature is good or helpful for the climate crisis. Like that is for sure one major issue with it, it shows that people *have* written stuff about climate change, but it sure doesn't convince you that this stuff is good.

Most of the works quoted are rather doomerist, and a lot of the narrative works specifically are apocalypse tales where most of Earth's population dies. The most coherent function the authors can propose that literature fulfills is to essentially help people understand how bad things are. One of the essays even argues that poetry and other creative work that simply appreciates nature is basically outdated, because:

“One could no longer imagine wandering lonely as a cloud, because clouds now jostle in our imaginations with an awareness of atmospheric concentrations of carbon dioxide and other atmospheric pollutants” (Mandy Bloomfield, pg. 72)

Skill issue, Mandy.

The menace of doomerism in fiction and poetry is addressed, by Byron Caminero-Santangelo, on page 127 when he references,

the literary non-fiction of a growing number of authors who explicitly assert, some might even say embrace, the equation between fatalistic apocalyptic narrative and enlightenment…they are authoritative in their rejection of any hope and in their representation of mitigatory action as the cliched moving of deckchairs on a sinking ship

He quotes an essay “Elegy for a country’s seasons” by Zadie Smith, who says: “The fatalists have the luxury of focusing on an eschatological apocalyptic narrative and on the nostalgia of elegy, as well as of escape from uncertainty and responsibility to act." Which is spot-on and accurate, but these observations aren't recognized as a menace to positive action, nor is the parallel to Christian thought that eagerly looks forward to Earth's destruction as a cathartic release from its pain made fully explicit and analyzed. Most of the creative works referenced and quoted in the book ARE this exact type of fatalistic, elegiac performance of mourning.

I basically quit reading after Chapter 11, "Animals," by Eileen Crist, which begins:

The humanization of the world began unfolding when agricultural humans separated themselves from wild nature, and started to tame landscapes, subjugate and domesticate animals and plants, treat wild animals as enemies of flocks and fields, engineer freshwater ecologies, and open their psyches to the meme of the ‘the human’ as world conquerer, ruler and owner.

This is what I'm talking about when I say it's dripping Eurocentrism; these ideas are NOT universal, and it's adding nothing to the world to write them because they fall perfectly in line with what the European colonizing culture already believes, complete with the lingering ghost of a reference to the Fall of Man and banishment from the Garden of Eden. It keeps going:

“Over time, the new human elaborated a view of the animal that ruptured from the totemic, shamanic and relational past.”

Okay so now she's introducing the idea of progression from shamanic nature-worshipping religions of our primitive past...hmm I'm sure this isn't going anywhere bad

“While humanity has largely rejected the colonizing project with respect to fellow humans, the occupation of non-human nature constitutes civilization’s last bastion of ‘normal’ colonialism. A new humanity is bound sooner or later to recognize and overthrow a colonialism of ‘nature,’ embracing a universal norm of interspecies justice.” (pg. 206) 

OKAY????

Not only denying that colonialism still exists, but also saying that humans' relationship with nature constitutes colonialism??

Embracing limitations means scaling down the human presence on demographic and economic fronts…(pg.207)

ope, there's the "we have to reduce the human population"

Embracing limitations further mandates pulling back from vast expanses of the natural world, thus letting the lavishness of wild (free) nature rule Earth again” (pg. 207) 

aaaaaaand there's the "we have to remove humans from wild nature so it can be freeeeeee"

don't get me wrong like I am a random white person with no particular expertise in anti-colonialist thought but I think this is an easy one. I'm pretty sure if your view of nature is that colonialism involving subjugating humans doesn't exist any more and actually humans existing in and altering nature is the real colonialism so we should remove humans from vast tracts of earth, your opinion is just bad.

Anyways y'all know I have an axe to grind against doomerism so it was probably obvious where this was going but good grief.

#climate #climate doomerism

[puranami]

✿ Fever - 1 ✿

A/N: Not included Brook and Jimbei bc I have absolutely no idea how to write them. Also, since Chopper is baby it would feel weird including him, even though it'd be in a purely platonic way. Just because of all the pining going on. Idk, I'd rather keep the themes separate, if that makes sense?

Summary: You're sick and try to ignore it.

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji, Robin, Franky.

Content: SFW, G/N reader, no serious illness but Usopp's is a liiiiittle angsty bc of his mum, not proofread (effectively) bc it's past 2am ✿

(Part 2)

Luffy

✿ He's honestly oblivious to things at first. You are doing your best to maintain your usual level of enthusiasm but it's so exhausting, and that's the most he registers - that you're tired.

"Hey, did ya not sleep too good?" he asked, entirely too loud for the headache beginning to form. You groan and lean your head into your hand, as if that would somehow soothe things, but to no avail. "Don't worry about it, I swear it won't affect my duties," you say, not sure who you were trying to convince. Apparently it didn't work regardless, as when you looked at him he was just stood there frowning with his arms crossed, and his head tilted. Before you could say anything you were greeted with a rubbery palm lightly smacking against your forehead, earning a surprised yelp from you. "You're hot." "Luffy!" Of course he had to say it that way. If you weren't already burning up with this fever, that would've set your skin ablaze. He really had no filter, and he never realised how the things he said affected you. He removed his hand from your face to grab your own, turning to drag you back to your quarters, not listening to any of your protests on the matter. There really wasn't anything you could do once Luffy had made up his mind, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't part of his charm. "No duties for you today, 'kay?" It may have been phrased like a question, but you knew it was 'Captain's orders.'

✿ You'd end up sleeping most of the day, with Luffy having gotten Chopper to look after you.

✿What you wouldn't be aware of was his constant presence while you slept, keeping a quiet vigil whilst he made sure the damp cloth on your head was always nice and cool.

✿ He just wants you to get better as fast as you can!

Zoro

✿ One word; clueless.

✿ It just looks like a hangover to him, what with the way you groan at the light, are unsteady on your feet, and complain about being nauseous.

"And I thought I drank a lot last night." he'd comment with a smirk. "Shut up, Zoro, you always drink a lot," you whine. "I didn't drink anything!" "The pathetic whining says otherwise." You threw the rag you'd been cleaning with at him. He raised an eyebrow, watching it harmlessly drop to the floor in front of him. "Your form is off." This man, you swear! You try to growl out an insult, but it dies on your tongue, a wave of nausea hitting in it's place, causing you to clasp a hand to your mouth. "Alright, easy champ, no need to strain yourself," Zoro raised his hands in faux surrender. "Come on, you gotta sleep this one off." He can't help but smile as you pathetically smack at him while he picks you up, opting for bridal style as opposed to flour sack, only so you don't empty your guts down his back. Saying that, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy holding you like that, though you're far too busy trying to fight him to notice the dusting of pink on his cheeks. "Don't worry I'll get you through this. I know my way around a hangover." "I'm not hungover," you protest as he gently places you in a hammock.

✿ True to his word though, he does see you through it, even if 'it' is the wrong thing. Task failed successfully!

✿ Zoro stays beside you, makes sure you drink plenty of water, and get plenty of rest, even falling asleep himself at one point; his face inches from yours as he was leaning against the post the top end of the hammock was attached to at the time.

✿ Sadly you never saw that as you slept right through it. Would've been good ammunition to use against him when he needed taking down a peg.

Nami

✿ One of the people who would actually do a good job of looking after you. She's not got the gentlest bedside manner; she is firm yet fair, so you're in good hands.

When you don't join the crew for breakfast, Nami took it upon herself to make sure you hadn't gotten tangled in your hammock, or something equally as stupid. You wake up in a cold sweat when you hear your door open, and manage to croak out, "Nami? Oh, did I oversleep?" When you try to get up, she pushes you right back down. "Don't." Her tone indicates that she will not tolerate any shenanigans, and so you do as you're told. "You need to sleep more. I'll get you some water, and later Sanji will make you some soup." She tucks a thin blanket around you, so you don't overheat. "If you so much as try to get out of this hammock I'm going to tie your arms and legs together. Understood?" Unable to stop yourself, you let out a light chuckle. "Nami, you're so cute when you pretend not to care," the fever disabling any kind of filter you may have had. While it did catch her by surprise, you are none the wiser, as you quickly drift back off to sleep. Nami has to take a brief moment to collect herself again, silently cursing the noticeable warmth in her cheeks, then mumbling about how you're an idiot before leaving your room.

✿ Nami basically dictates how your day is. Lots of sleep, plenty of fluids and maybe a warm bath to help sweat this out, and of course she 'requests' (demands) Sanji make a hearty soup to help you get better, which he is more than happy to do for her!

✿ She'll deny it, but she sets up in your room so she can monitor you throughout the day, only going to Chopper for medicine if she thinks it's bad enough, deciding it isn't necessary to bother him with something so manageable.

Usopp

✿ He panics. Something about seeing someone he cares about getting sick makes him think of his mother, and he doesn't want to lose anyone else like that.

Usopp scoops you up and books it to Chopper. You've seen him afraid, but nothing this intense, and no matter how much you try to convince him that you're okay, and that it's just a cold - you can't seem to break through to him. "Chopper, please help! Please!" He begs as he gently places you on a bed. Tears are streaming down his face, as he takes your hand in a vice-like grip. Once Chopper confirms what you already tried to tell him about it being a common cold, he relaxes a bit. You don't hold it against him, clearly this is something deeper for him. Chopper's words, those of a professional, were very reassuring. "You just need rest, but I do have medicine to help with symptoms if you need," he says before putting a comforting little hoof on Usopp's knee. "Everything will be okay, I promise." Usopp takes a moment to collect himself before quietly saying, "Can I stay?" You and Chopper look at each other before smiling back at him, letting him know he is welcome to stay as long as he likes, or in this case needs. Neither of you press him on why this had him so scared, figuring he'll tell you if and when he's ready to.

✿ Chopper will handle all of your care, because Usopp refuses to leave your side.

✿ He keeps you entertained with his stories when you're awake, and scribbles on some loose papers Chopper gives him while you sleep. It's mainly ideas for things to make, and it keeps him calm.

✿ At one point he falls asleep with his arms crossed on the bed beside you, his little fingers linked with your own, like an unspoken promise that you'll get better, and he'll be there when you do.

Sanji

✿ As soon as Sanji catches on that you are sick, he decides to completely dedicate himself to your care and recovery! He's very attentive, and will do every little thing you want or need to get you back to health.

"Darling, I insist!" Every 'it's okay,' and 'you don't need to do all that for me,' will be shot down immediately. "What kind of man would I be if I let someone as lovely as you do anything in this condition?" He clutches his chest dramatically. "No, no. Don't you worry about a thing; I'll make sure you're well again in no time at all." You really don't have the energy to try and dissuade him, so you accept your fate, and let him dote on you the whole day. It's honestly really nice; you love having his attention, and are thankful that the fever hides your blushes, but you also can't help feeling a little guilty with how much he does for you. "Please don't overexert yourself on my behalf, I don't want you to end up getting sick yourself." "Even if I was sick, it wouldn't stop me from looking after you, my dear." You can't help but frown at this. He's so eager to do for others, but is painfully stubborn about receiving that same care. "If you're ever sick, Sanji, I'm gonna do everything that you've done for me - and I won't hear any objection from you on the matter!" You say in as stern a voice as you can manage with a sore throat. "Darling-" "Nope!" You cut him off quickly, "You deserve the same level of care that you give out!" He looks at you a little wide-eyed, an adorable blush creeping along his face. He lets out a small laugh. As much as he'd like to, he says nothing more on it; you're as stubborn as he is it would seem.

✿ Sanji makes lots of lovely food to help aid in your recovery; warming soups, peppermint tea, porridge with ginger and honey. Everything that soothes and settles, no matter the malady.

✿ His bedside manner is impeccable! He's so gentle with you, and he makes sure to check in as often as he can, whilst still doing his duties, getting as much done as possible while you're asleep.

✿ Like Nami, he only goes to Chopper if he feels your condition requires it. He's confident that his cooking will be more than enough to get you back to health.

Robin

✿ A blessing, and a curse. She's very logical, and she knows how to handle such a minor illness, but, she really can't help telling you all about other illnesses that have worryingly similar symptoms.

"Oh, this one is very unpleasant," she beams, and you can't help but press your hands over your ears. "Chopper!" You cry, before she can start telling you about this particular strain of 'instantdeathitus,' practically running into the infirmary with Robin hot on your heels, holding an open book on diseases. "Robin keeps talking about scary diseases and now I'm scared I'm gonna die!" After being given a quick check-up, and much reassurance that, no, you do not have a rare disease that can only be contracted on a specific island in a completely different ocean, and yes, it is just a common cold, you relax. Mostly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Robin says later once you have bundled up and settled down. "Your cold just reminded me of this book, and I thought it was fascinating. I just wanted to share it with you." She clearly felt guilty, and you appreciated that this was just how she is, but you really would've rather she'd chosen a different topic to tell you about. "Maybe, you have a book on old remedies you could tell me about instead?" Robin perks back up at this. She truly values how much you understand her, and she can see why talking about diseases when your ill is not the most pleasant experience, so this is a perfect compromise. "That's a wonderful idea," she smiles, and you swear she puts the sun to shame with how bright her smile is. "There might be one we can try that will help with your recovery."

✿ Once you get past the scary disease hiccup, Robin is a great companion, looking up home remedies, and trying out the ones that are clearly based on logic as opposed to superstition.

✿ If you find a good remedy, she's excitedly write it down, and later pass the information on to Chopper.

✿ She's happy to get you water when needed, and will watch over you as you nap in the library. It's one of the quietest parts of the ship, so there is no way to disturb you there.

Franky

✿ Aside from Chopper, Franky is genuinely the best at dealing with sick people. He tones down his behaviour, and knows exactly what you need to get back on your feet.

Your head was absolutely thundering, at least that's how it felt. Franky clocked onto your condition as soon as he saw you enter the kitchen, and once you had what you came in for, he hurried you off to his workshop. You thought it was an odd choice. "Shouldn't I go somewhere quiet?" "I know it doesn't seem it, but I can keep this place absolutely silent if I need to. No music, no one else barging in and making a racket," he said, keeping his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Also the walls are soundproof - keeps noise out just as well as it keeps my noise in." "Oh! That's really impressive," even when ill, there is a sparkle in your eyes when he tells you about pretty much anything he's designed or built. You notice his cheeks turning red, but assume that it's just from the compliment as he looked so proud when you gave it to him. "That's not all," he grins, "I've been working on a lil something, and now's the perfect time to show you!" That certainly piqued your interest, and he was doing a great job at distracting you from how bad you felt. Franky led you to one of the corners of the room, one that was covered in a large tarp. You'd seen it many times, and you were always curious, but he'd always brushed it off whenever you brought it up, so the thought of finally seeing what was under there was exciting! Pulling down the tarp revealed a little alcove that was almost like a nest considering the amount of cushions. "It's a space for you," he said sheepishly, "so you have somewhere comfortable to sit when you hang out in here. I figured you could rest there whilst you're ill, and I can look out for you." You stared at it in absolute wonder, big shining eyes darting between it and him. "It's absolutely perfect, thank you so much!"

✿ Franky kept the workshop quiet like he said he would, and whenever you needed anything, like water or medicine, he'd go and get it for you.

✿ At some point Chopper came in to check on you, since Franky had mentioned you were ill, but there really wasn't much to do about it besides getting lots of rest, and you had that covered.

✿ He'd work on his quiet projects, the ones still in the planning and design stages, whilst you slept peacefully in your cosy nest.

#one piece imagine #one piece x reader #one piece x you #luffy x reader #luffy x you #zoro x reader #zoro x you #nami x reader #nami x you #usopp x reader #usopp x you #sanji x reader #sanji x you #robin x reader #robin x you #nico robin x reader #nico robin x you #franky x reader #franky x you #cyborg franky x reader #cyborg franky x you #monkey d luffy #roronoa zoro #cat burglar nami #god usopp #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #nico robin #cyborg franky