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#is this even worth posting anywhere i am not sure
elusivewildflower · 6 months
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Do Be Careful | Astarion x Reader Drabble
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Summary: Astarion saves you from a trap and scolds you afterwards. GN!Reader.
Word Count: 746
A/N: Based on my idea that I posted here. I might make this into a little series if I get inspired and come up with more scenarios.
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“Heyy-o.” Came Karlach’s voice, capturing the attention of the entire party. “This place is rigged.” She continued, pointing out a tripwire that was a few paces ahead of her.
Astarion sighed heavily. “Everyone keep your eyes open and be careful. I don’t particularly feel like getting blown up today.” His vermillion eyes met yours and narrowed. “Especially you, darling.” 
You raised your hand to your chest, feigning hurt by his words. “I’m always careful!” 
The pale elf scoffed. “You’re about as careful as I am honest.” 
Brushing off Astarion’s words, you turned to the left and began walking. As the rest of your party split off into different directions, Astarion trailed behind you. It seemed as if every inch of the dimly lit cellar you were exploring was covered in dust. You felt as if you couldn’t breath already, and you had only been down here for twenty minutes. All you wanted was to find the amulet you came for and get the hell out. You certainly hoped the reward for this item was worth all of the trouble. As a sneeze sounded from the elf behind you, you smiled. At least you weren’t the only one suffering. 
As you wandered through the dank cellar, your thoughts were plagued by the man behind you. Ever since the night of the tiefling party, Astarion had become your shadow. Sure, you were the self-proclaimed leader of your group and everyone followed you, but not in the same way he did. Every move you made he copied, and he never strayed far from you in a fight. His trailing after you has only gotten worse since the time you unknowingly stepped on a live trap. It’s only happened two other times, but Astarion will never let you live it down. A part of you was endeared to know the elf must care for you, even if you often questioned that matter. After all, he hadn’t been fully present with you during the night you shared. Yet, here he was, always two steps behind you, ready to pounce in case you needed saving. A heavy sigh resounded in your chest. Your relationship with the vampire was confusing to say the least. 
Too swept up in your thoughts about the shadow behind you, you didn’t spot the trap you were walking into until it was too late. You sucked in a sharp breath as you felt a tripwire brush against your shin. It seems whomever rigged this cellar had a particular type of trap they favored.
 “Sh—“ 
You didn’t have time to finish your expletive before a strong arm wrapped around your waist from behind and yanked you out of harm’s way. As you tumbled to the ground, you watched an arrow shoot out from a dark corner and sail through the air right where you had been standing. A cool and lean body cushions your fall, the both of you letting out a grunt upon impact. 
After taking a moment to process what just happened, or rather, what almost happened, you rolled off of your savior. Embarrassment flooded through you as you shot him a bashful grin.
“What did I just say?!” Astarion scolded you exasperatedly. 
This was now the fourth time your resident vampire has saved your hind, and he didn’t look too pleased about it. Perhaps a compliment might distract him from his anger? You batted your eyelashes, feigning innocence. “You’re so pretty, Astarion.” 
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere right now, darling.” He chastised before heaving a sigh. You watched as his features contorted with a hint of concern. ”You could’ve, oh, I don’t know, died?!” 
Your shoulders slumped as you realized the truth of his statement. “I’m sorry….” 
“You should be!” He brushed himself off as the two of you got to your feet. “I’ve saved your life, yet again, and all I get are aches and bruises.” 
It was your turn to heave a sigh as you rolled your eyes. “You can feed on me tonight for your repayment.” 
Astarion grinned wickedly at the sound of that, his demeanor changing instantly. “Well, at least something good will come of this after all.” 
When you began to resume your, now-cleared, path, Astarion was quick to stop you. His arm splayed across your chest as he stepped in front of you. 
“Oh no, no, no. I am going to be leading us now. It’s clear that you cannot be trusted to actually use those pretty eyes of yours.” 
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cerise-on-top · 4 months
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i am here humbly begging for more cod tickle fight posts pretty please i am soooo thirsty
Yeah, sure. Sorry this took so long, I planned something even longer, making a scenario for each character being on the receiving end, but that likely would have been over 8.000 words in total, so I scrapped the idea. All of these together are already at almost 3.000 words. Still have the prompts, though. Anyway, thanks for the request, I appreciate you sending something in. These are essentially a bunch of characters and or reader teaming up on each other. First three reader is on the receiving end, but then I wanted to spice it up a little and have some characters be on the receiving end. No Valeria since I had no idea who to team her up with.
Team-Up Tickles
Price/Ghost: You’d really need to get on their nerves if you end up the victim of the both of them. Sure, it can be done, just rack up the bad points with innocent things that won’t harm anyone. Put Price’s cigars where he can’t find them immediately or place a little frog in his hat, draw a heart on Ghost’s mask with red sharpie or throw a few grapes at him. As long as they know it was you every time they’re gonna get fed up eventually. It doesn’t warrant any serious punishment, and if they know all you want is just to play around a bit they’ll be even more likely to just gang up on you. They’ll calmly confront you about it, even if there is a certain air of mischief surrounding them, and do just about anything to make you back up into a corner. The more helpless you feel, the more you realize you messed up, the better. Price will grab your wrists with one hand and hold them so you won’t escape. Ghost starts off slow if he knows he can take his sweet time with you, figuring out where he can elicit which reaction in what way. Every once in a while he’ll simply stop, though, giving you a small break before picking up where he left off. I advise you to not kick, he’ll simply grab your leg and keep going there. Eventually, Price grows just the tiniest bit impatient and joins in. The sooner he can get you to fall to the floor or wrestle you down, the better because you won’t be able to fight back. A bit rougher than Ghost, he wants to make you scream so you might learn your lesson. This time, if you’re a real squirmer or kicker, Ghost will hold you down so you won’t escape. If Price straddles your hips, Ghost will hold up your arms, those two work well together. Once you’re completely tuckered out they’ll stop, leaving you a giggling, breathless mess. However, they’re not monsters, if they think they went completely overboard by accident they’ll stay with you until you’ve recovered a bit, scolding you for being so annoying and how you really shouldn’t put frogs in Price’s hat.
Gaz/Soap: In their case they probably simply felt like doing it, so they did. Since they had a tickle fight with each other beforehand they thought it would be a lovely idea to get you in on it as well. It all starts with them scouting the area for you. Once they found you, they’ll lure you somewhere you won’t be able to escape, preferably a soft surface like a couch or a bed so you won’t hurt yourself. Last step is for one to distract you while the other surprises you. Even if either of them gets elbowed, it’s absolutely worth it just to hear your laugh ring out. If they’re not both having the time of their lives simultaneously, then they take turns holding you down and tickling you. Anywhere they can reach is fair game. It’s not too hard to figure out which one is the dominant tickler either, both of them have their own style: Soap barely lingers on one spot for too long, he’s fairly rough and quick and never shuts up while he’s at it, always teasing you one way or another. It may seem almost frantic, but there’s actually quite a bit of calculation behind it. Gaz is more gentle, and lingers longer on the spots he deems to be your worst ones before showing a bit of mercy. He plays the long game and wants to tire you out more slowly so the fun lasts a bit longer. Not as teasy, but he does ask you plenty of questions he genuinely expects you to answer in your state. Both of them have a good time and if they aren’t out for your laughter by verbally teasing you, they’ll talk as if nothing at all is happening. Gaz and Soap are close enough with each other that they barely need to speak to each other out loud in order to know what the other is about to do. You’re just the cutest little thing to them, so naturally they’re gonna make sure you’re okay afterwards. Whoever you pushed away the least that time gets to hold you, the other one grabs you a glass of water to make sure your voice doesn’t falter completely. They’re gonna rib you a bit afterwards as you catch your breath, but if someone else gets too close to you when you’re that tired they’ll have to deal with two SAS soldiers ready to throw hands. Yes, they’re extremely protective of you in that state.
Alejandro/Rodolfo: You likely asked Alejandro to train you a bit so your chances of surviving an encounter would go up. That he does, he’s a good teacher when it comes to things like that, except you’d want to keep going when it’s obvious you’ve reached your limit and are beyond tired. Sluggish movements and delayed reaction times leave you almost entirely defenseless, but still you insist in order to make him proud and show him just how capable you are. Alejandro will give you two chances to stop for the evening, after that he’ll simply pin you down or against the wall and start having his way. He makes sure not to hurt you, his grasp on you is gentle enough to not bruise, but firm enough to make sure you can’t get away either. After some time, if you still haven’t given up yet, he’ll call Rudy over to help him. It’s an order, so there isn’t much he can do about it. As you’re still spilling some residual giggles, Alejandro will give you a small break, letting Rudy take the wheel for a moment as he still holds you down. Rudy will gently graze your skin, fluttering his fingers here and there. It’s not enough to make you laugh, far from it, but it makes you just a bit more aware of your situation. It’s fun to him, feeling you suck in your stomach or have it quiver under his fingertips, for example. Once given the order, he’ll be a bit more rough on you, even though rough is still a bit relative. He’s not fast either, he’s still gentle. Alejandro, if he’s in the right position, will claw at your stomach as he nuzzles into your neck. It’s not his goal to make you scream, but as long as you’re still audacious enough to fight him he won’t relent. Only when you finally give in and stop for the night will the tickling cease. Rudy will chuckle a bit, seeing those tears in your eyes as you barely even remember where you are, asking you if you need anything. Alejandro pulls you towards him, rubbing your back and making sure you won’t topple over again. If you’re on the verge of falling asleep then and there, they’ll carry you to bed as well. Ask either of them to stay the night and cuddle you, there’s no way they’re gonna say no.
Graves/Shadows: Due to Graves being rather affectionate with his Shadows as well as being a competent leader, it’s no surprise that his subordinates trust him a great amount. Yes, he can be serious when the time calls for it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t ever goof around. The Shadows love him, so they’re usually more than willing to team up with each other and you to surprise the commander. It takes a single brave person, ready to try and best him after he decided to work himself to the bone again, to cause an avalanche of playful Shadows to go after him. Graves can hold his own against them normally, but when he’s clearly outnumbered even he can’t do much. Cast the first stone, someone else will follow. Spider your fingers along his back, when he turns someone else will take your place. Despite rolling around, squirming, kicking, he likely won’t tell you to stop as it’s a nice team building activity, stupid as it may be. If you get him to lie on his stomach and scribble along his thighs he can muster up the strength to throw someone off of him just once. It may seem like aimless flailing to most, but he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he needs to know which Shadows he needs to get revenge on. No matter how much you tire him out, he won’t forget a face. Since Shadow Company has quite a few people working for it there’s gonna be a huge discrepancy between their different styles, but what works best on Graves is being rough on his upper body while being fairly gentle on his lower body. It takes at least two to three people to make sure he won’t escape since, once he knows the attackers are coming, it’s way harder to actually get him to go down. Once he goes silent that’s usually your cue to stop, anything else he won’t take as kindly to. While it may not be too uncommon for him to be targeted, depending on the intensity of the fun it might take him a bit longer to recover. As I’ve said before, stay with him and make sure he’s okay, you’re doomed either way so you might as well make sure he recovers well. He’ll be a bit more gentle when he gets his revenge. Besides, there are a few Shadows who genuinely want that sort of attention from their commander, Graves knows that. He’s fond of them, so he’s not at all against indulging them every once in a while.
Alex/Farah: In this scenario we’re going to assume you and Farah wanted to show Alex some affection, thus deciding to sandwich him in a hug. That was really just the cover up to your plan of him having given you a tickle hug one too many times, resulting in you both itching to get your fingers on him. Naturally, Alex won’t say no to a hug from his favorite people, he welcomes it, in fact. You let him have that moment for a few seconds before you strike. One of you shoves their hands in his armpits, the other one goes for his sides. When he topples over whoever stands behind him gets to catch and hold him. It’s a spot he’s going to defend with his life, but brush your fingers against his neck or flutter them against the skin there, he’ll pull up his shoulder immediately to get you to go away. Alex can take quite a lot, but that doesn’t mean his reaction isn’t to try and shove you away. His giggles are sweet, almost a bit quiet, even his laugh isn’t too loud. Some curses here and there, sure, but he doesn’t mean any of them. While he may have some of his reactions under control, he’ll try to get away from the both of you but won’t start hitting you, opting for grabbing your hands instead. If that doesn’t work, he’ll make attempts to curl up. Realistically speaking, he knows there’s no danger since it’s just you and Farah, people he trusts, but he can’t help it, it tickles just far too much. Aware of his past crimes, he’s willing to atone, letting you have your fun for quite a while. But he will tell you to stop once he’s hit his limit. Doesn’t hate tickling and being tickled by any means, but it’s exhausting when you’re on the receiving end. Definitely doesn’t mind some affection afterwards, even if it’s just in the form of teasing him regarding how cute he is. When you listen to him and his residual giggles, you can watch his gaze drift between you and Farah with adoration and admiration in his eyes. He’s aware of his strength, he knows that it’s not easy at all to take him down, meaning it takes a lot of trust for him to allow himself to be in a position like that. But it’s fun and games, he’s not gonna stop either, so it’s only fair.
Laswell/Nikolai: You probably got fed up with Nikolai barely, if at all, reacting to you trying to get back at him. He is ticklish, that much I can tell you, he just doesn’t show it. Only when you’re playfully complaining to him about it with Laswell overhearing does the situation brighten for you. As someone who works for the CIA, Laswell has dirt on just about any person, including Nikolai. Besides, they’ve been friends for a long time too, which made her one of the most qualified people to tell you that Nikolai can be weak to tickles, if done correctly. Beating around the bush, Nikolai neither confirms nor denies this, but promises you that he’ll hold still and let you try, under the premise he gets to do the same later. He’s confident you won’t be able to get him to laugh. Ever the keeper of his word, you try. Laswell watches as you fail time and time again to even get him to flinch. With a sigh, she shows you the ropes, telling you what to do in order to accomplish your goal. Advice is given, instructions are told as though you’re taking apart a weapon and cleaning it for the first time. In this case, you’re merely told to lightly scratch under his chin. Despite expecting it, Nikolai shudders regardless. It’s a pleasant sensation, but it takes everything in him to not flinch. Next up is the side of his neck, and lastly, his cheeks. A smile has made its way onto his lips, even during the first spot, but you couldn’t tell whether it was out of pity or mockery. Gently grazing his skin, you weren’t even sure if you were touching it in the first place, seemed to work. A few giggles spilt here and there, but he never bothered to grab your hand or push you away. According to Laswell, as well as Nikolai, that was likely everything you were gonna get out of him using your hands only. If you desired a stronger outcome you’d need something along the lines of a feather or a make-up brush. As it turns out, being rough doesn’t work on him at all, he’s trained himself out of that, but since he never really got the chance to get used to gentle tickles he couldn’t build up a resistance to them. Regardless, it was your turn to get wrecked and Nikolai wasn’t going to go easy on you for what you did.
König/Horangi: From time to time you’d tease König. Nothing particularly mean, Horangi’s remarks were much more impactful than yours. Besides, König is a colonel, he had been through worse and can take some playful banter, often taunting both of you in return. It wasn’t until you had claimed that, due to his height, he must have some extra ribs that you genuinely got both König’s and Horangi’s attention. With everyone involved knowing that König was, indeed, ticklish, this made for a wonderful suggestion. Considering you made the claim, you got the honor of actually getting to count them as Horangi held König’s arms behind his back. Sitting down on his lap to make it just that extra bit harder to move, you got to work. König’s curses weren’t particularly creative, but they did hold a certain venom to them, they could corrode anyone’s skin. But the poison mellowed as soon as you made contact with his ribs, drilling in here and there and vibrating your fingers to get a feel for his ribcage. At first König was rigid, not moving an inch, but then he started kicking, trying to get you off of him. In all fairness, it almost worked. The lower you moved the stronger his reactions were. Once you were done you counted 17, to which Horangi naturally replied that that couldn’t be right, there had to be at least 28. Switching places with him, it was your turn to take König’s arms and hold them back. Horangi was a much more ruthless tickler than you, making sure to “get a feel of how much space his ribs take up” before “counting them thoroughly”. Yes, mistakes were made and he “lost count” a few times. Despite everything, he was diligent enough to try again. The conclusion was that König had no extra ribs that day, having only 24 it seemed, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still grow some more over time. This phenomenon had to be studied and he’d need a check-up every once in a while that only you and Horangi could be trusted with. Cussing both of you out, König recovered very quickly, looming over you with the ferocity of an untamed beast. Despite having considered punting both of you into the ground for humiliating him like that, he doesn’t go through with it. Another one who’s very confident in his abilities, he chases that instant gratification this time and goes for both of you to get his revenge. Maybe not at once, maybe he can get you to betray the other in the meantime, but he’ll have both of you breathless and exhausted by the end of the day.
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mischiefmaker615 · 3 months
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Assassin
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Rating: R
Summary: Apparently killing the god of mischief isn't as easy as you thought..
Note: Apologies, its a long one but i figure since i haven't posted raw ideas in awhile Lol 
Your fingers grip the tray in your hands as your eyes slowly rise to your approaching door. You had hidden the poison perfectly out of site and not even the first forkful of food would reveal what awaits for your target.
The plan was simple and even with your target being the young prince of Asgard, you were confident you wouldn’t fail. The servant’s dress was a little uncomfortable considering how you were so used to pants and armor, but it would all be worth it when the god of mischief is no more. Just go in, deliver the food and then leave. News wouldn’t take long that the prince had perished and then it will be all done.
Reaching his quarters, you gave a knock and a pause before entering. ‘’your highness, I’ve come to deliver your morning meal’’ you announce gently, keeping your eyes low out of respect but your side view showed he was at his chair with his nose in a book with his shoes up on the very table you needed to set the tray on.
When you heard no reply, you thought nothing of it. a servant’s job was to do their job and get out with not much interaction or expectance of a reply. You had watched them diligently and posed as them for weeks and throughout all your hard work, your patience finally got you a chance to have interaction with Loki when you heard his usual maid was ill.
Standing before the table, you bowed before you bit your lip, wondering when he was going to remove his shoes so you could place the tray down. Nothing. You weren’t taught where else to put it if a situation like this occurred so you just stood there awkwardly as you lifted your eyes slightly to look at him.
‘’..pardon my prince..’’
Nothing. His eyes remained moving, reading his book as he paid you no mind. Bastard.. you’ll die soon.. Placing the tray down anywhere else would risk its improper place, so you had no choice but to remain still and wait. Minutes went by, and Loki paid you no mind but you were clear in his vision so you were certain he was there. The only movement he made was to turn a page and sigh contently as your arms began to ache from holding the tray for so long. More minutes went by and you glanced at him almost in desperation as you stood in silence.
The snap of his book shut had you jump out of your skin and he casually sat up with a stretch, his eyes elsewhere than you and he finally took his shoes off the table. In a split second, you placed it down with achy arms and almost slammed it down out of anger and relief of finally being set free. You shook your hands from the ache and quickly bowed your head.
‘’your highness, is there anything else you need?’’
He stayed sat calmly, staring up at you as he man spread with hidden amusement in his eyes. He knew exactly what he was doing. ‘’are you sure it won’t anger you further?’’ he smirked as your body tensed. It was almost as if he was daring you, there would most likely be a sever punishment if one dared showed any negative emotion towards a royal so you quickly shook your head with obvious thrown on cheer.
‘’I am at your service my prince, please- anything you wish of me is in no position of a bother..’’ you said quietly and your heart skipped a beat as he leaned forward to examine the food for a brief moment.
You snuck a peak yourself but there was no vision sign of the substance in it so your eyes glanced at him nervously.
With a single finger, he swiped a bit of porridge and stood up casually, his expression basically tsking as he made his way over to you and stopped once the tips of your shoes were touching. His height made itself known as you tilted your head up to look up at him, not knowing if you were breaking a servant’s respect but something about his eyes made it impossible not to look away. It wasn’t until he raised his hand and presented the porridge on his finger just before his lips was when you broke eye contact to look at the food.
‘’it’s cold.’’
I wanna kill him..
You opened your mouth to respond, to tell him in the ‘kindest way possible’ that it was because of how damn long he made you wait was why it was cold. Yet before you could even utter a word, he moved his finger into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue, making to jump as his free hand gripped your hip so you couldn’t take a step back.
‘’you know what to do, don’t you.’’ Not a question, as his voice came out as a purr as you looked up at him with a blush to your cheeks.
Just going along with things would get you the hell out of here so he could finish his breakfast right? True it was cold, but perhaps he wouldn’t mind it if you just pleased him and left. Sucking up your pride, you used your tongue to remove the porridge from his finger before you began sucking.
Loki hummed in approval, almost closing his eyes as he looked down his nose at you. Why were- were you aroused?! This was a bloody mission for norns sake! Even if he was drop dead gorgeous- the god had to go! Before you could even make a move to step back, his hand removed itself from your waist and rested on the back of your head. He steadied your head as his finger began moving itself in and out while his fingers curled into your hair, slowly matching his own rhythm as he moved you head as well.
Your eyes widened at the action, your hands raising up almost grasping his wrist but stopped, knowing fully well if you touched him without permission, you’d be done for. Your legs self-consciously pressed themselves together much to your shock as a small squeak of submission left your voice and demeanor before you heard him chuckle.
‘’you’ve pleased me love, you’re a very amusing toy.’’ And with that, he released you in your state of shock and your hand covered your mouth while the other gripped your dress.
‘’w-will that be all my prince?’’ you asked and straightened yourself as your cheeks remained red.
His hands remained clasped behind his back as he gazed down at you with now wondering eyes. ‘’perhaps.’’
You hesitated, not sure if that meant yes or no as you still tried to gather yourself at what the hell happened. you thanked the gods the food he gathered was just the top layer, any deeper and he might as well have fed you your own poison meant for him.
With shaky legs, you turned and made for the door in a casual pace, not wanting to go to fast or slow for suspicion as your hand rested at the door knob and opened.
‘’wait.’’
You cussed in your head as you took a deep breath and turned just to see Loki taking a stalking pace towards you. His eyes seemed blown and even your side view could tell he was aroused.
‘’you wish to please your future king?’’ he asked simply.
‘’..y-yes..’’ you said with uncertainty of what he was getting at. Its not like you could have said no.
‘’then, maid, I wish to bed you.’’ Just as he had finished speaking, his hand extended and closed the door behind you with a push, keeping his arm there as your back pressed against the lost exit to look up at him.
If you were drinking a beverage you would have for certainly spit it out as you opened your mouth with a lost of words. By his previous actions, you quickly shut it and this made him laugh as he raised your chin up with a single finger.
‘’sire I..I-‘’
‘’you don’t wish to please me?’’ he fake looked hurt and panic entered your eyes as you tried finding any excuse to get out of this situation. Refusal to a royal was unacceptable and your mission was complete if you would just leave him to his meal but.. gods! You thought the maid’s gossip was just to tease you when they found out you were covering the other’s shift.. they were right!?
‘’did.. did your regular maid-‘’
‘’very much so.’’ Loki smirked, leaning down more so he was almost nose to nose with you as he towered while you coward. ‘’all the time in fact, we’ve had to replace three headboards in fact.’’
You took a shaky breath as you tried to find the right response as you glanced behind him to his bed. ‘’..oh..’’
Slowly taking one of your hands, he walked backward while he pulled you forward, small resistance threatening your limbs as you wished not to go over to his bed. ‘’you will be a perfect substitute, exactly what I need this morning.’’ He praised in a light tone mood as if you had already made him the happiest man in the world. ‘’now then,’’ he said as he took a seat on his bed with you standing before him. ‘’kneel.’’
Your body tensed as your mind already drove ahead to where this was leading. You very much wished to leave but you knew it would compromise everything. Stuck.. with shaky legs, you knew you had to play the part even if it meant sacrifices as you sank to his knees.
‘’good girl..’’ he said with almost a whisper. ‘’now go right ahead.’’ He said as he leaned back on his elbows while he gazed at you to get started.
Fuck.. through it all, you still couldn’t believe you were aroused as you squeezed your legs together where you kneeled.Everything about you was shaking as you took a deep breath to calm yourself. You didn’t dare once look at the prince’s eyes but you knew fully well that he was smirking, relishing in the amusement of messing with you.
With shaky hands, you slowly reached for his pants and with a moment to figure out how to free him, you finally managed to pull his cock out. It immediately was standing at attention and the size itself startled you at how well he held the title god. You looked up at him with almost pleading eyes, your thoughts leaving all royal rules behind at how you didn’t wish to compromise yourself but he merely leaned forward.
His movements were slow, almost as if he was stalking his prey as he held that famous smirk on his lips. A hand slowly rested behind your head and pulled you forward, guiding your face before your body took over for a moment. Your hands rested on his thighs and shoulders stiffened as you tried stopping him from pulling you down but his god strength made it clear this was happening.
Your eyes flashed up at him just as his other hand came to grip your jaw and his fingers curled to the sides to force your mouth open. Your eyes looked up to him in panic just to see his eyes darken with a sinister smile now.
‘’the moment I feel teeth, I pull every single one out with my blade.’’ He said darkly before pulling your head down with his cock sliding down your throat.
Your heart beat raced as your hands gripped this thighs, squeezing your eyes shut as he leaned back on his elbow while the hand remained at the back of your head, keeping you down. a content sigh left his lips as he closed his heads and hung his head back in relish.
He didn’t taste bad, dare you say it you wanted more if your mind and body fought against each other for the sake of your mission. His cock twitched now and again, making your body squirm as it pressed against your throat but what was confusing was that he kept your head down on his cock but didn’t allow you to rise and fall like you expected from this.. particular act. He just.. kept you immobile.
Your body began to relax every so slightly and your confused eyes looked up at him as he took a deep breath and looked down at you with casual eyes, as if he was waiting for you to explain yourself.
‘’so, you wish to kill me.’’ He sighed.
The mere comment sent shock to your brain and body, making you jump every so slightly and made your throat rub against his cock, almost triggering your gag reflex and earned a sharp breath from him that he immediately hid.
‘’The poison is no good when its been exposed for so long, which is why I enjoyed seeing you stand for so long beside my table.’’ He smirked and your fists balled against his thighs as your body began to pull away from him, seeing there was no point in pretending anymore but he didn’t let you. His grip behind your head way firm.
‘’Your patience is impeccable, but this is obviously your first mission because whatever dimwits trained you didn’t bother to teach you thoroughly about poisons. Which is also why you haven’t dropped head upon having a single.. finger full’’ he smirked and bucked his hips ever so slightly, feeling his cock run against your throat as your hands gripped his thighs. There was no escape.
You mumbled bastard but all was heard was a muffle, sending vibrations through his dick unintenually by you but he thoroughly enjoyed it as he seemed to shiver with a grin.
‘’your fire is perfect, I could pretty much read your thoughts as I played with you, how angry you must have been’’ he mocked with almost a baby talk tone and you felt his fingers grip a bunch of your hair. ‘’and you’ll be absolutely perfect for pleasing me, you might be even the first person I break three headboards with, even more’’ he teased with a hushed tone as he slowly raised your head where his tip almost left your mouth as you sucked in a breath through your nose before he slowly lowered you back down on his cock against your wishes to try to stop him.
So, the headboard thing was him jesting? Did he do anything like this with his servants? You wouldn’t be surprised, but most of you knew this was all just to tease, to get back at you for trying to take his life; and you knew this wasn’t going to be your first punishment for something so treacherous against a royal.
As he continued to agonizingly slowly pull your head up and down against his cock, your eyes squeezed shut as did your thighs. What was happening to you.. your hands tapped and hit his thighs as you tried to indicate your release but he merely chuckled.
‘’come now darling, you merely brought yourself upon this predicament. After all, you told me yes that you wished to please your future king.’’ He mocked as your eyes looked up at him with slight tears from his strokes. He gave you an amused, indifferent look at he leaned forward and both his hands took hold of your hair, bringing your head up and down with a little more speed as his eyes closed and his head raised.
‘’gods you feel so good on my cock.. as if you were made for this..’’ he breathed and a smile came to his lips. ‘’those who sent you didn’t exactly know who you were dealing with did they? As if mere poison would be sufficient enough to kill a god’’ he tsked and a hand began petting your head and cheek as the other continued its work.
‘’I hope those ingrates know they won’t be getting you back’’ he smirked and your eyes rose to him as a million thoughts came to mind. Was he going to kill you? torture? Prison?
‘’you’re mine now pet, I will think of them sending you as a mere gift instead of an assassination attempt. It takes war off the table for now, something I’m sure you’ll be surely grateful for. Unless you wish to face all of Asgard as the one who will be responsible for such a catastrophe hmm?’’
Your eyes glared daggers at him as you thought about using teeth if it wasn’t for his threat at pulling them all out. War wasn’t on the table when it came to killing it, it would be just an assassination attempt by an unknown threat with the god of trickery off the table in the universe. Apparently, fate had other plans by having you fail.
‘’come now darling,’’ he sighed and stilled his hands, raising his hips slowly into your throat instead which had your body arching in response with each thrust, something you thought was unvoluntary but apparently some parts of your body was enjoying his manhandling. ‘’we both know you secretly love this’’ he mocked and eyes your ass by simply leaning forward before dropping his gaze to you. ‘’you should be grateful, being full in my care instead of being sent off to suffer some gruesome death by norns who knows who in Asgard’s dungeons. I hope your prepared to show me just how grateful you are.’’
And with that, his hand gripped your hair and pulled you up off of him. you gasped for air as your hands shook against his thighs and the tears of his actions fell down your cheeks as the soreness in your throat reminded you of his actions. Why was your cunt dripping..
Before you could even fathom whether you were enjoying this or not, he lifted you up to your feet by your hair and got off the bed. Your hands grasped his wrists behind you to relieve his grip as he turned you both so the bed was now behind you. it was a miracle your legs didn’t go out as his eyes eyed your bosom and flashed back to your eyes with a smirk.
‘’please-‘’
“don’t worry princess’’ he smirked and pushed you onto the bed with a knee resting against the mattress with intention to crawl on top of you. your fingers gripped the sheets as your eyes widened, backing up slowly with your elbows until his hand grasped your ankle.
‘’daddy will take good care of you..’’
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public-trans-it · 10 months
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Man, I genuinely owe my life to FtM Girlies. Without them I wouldn’t have figured out my gender shit anywhere near as well and would probably still be going “Yeah I’m a trans gal. That’s… close enough. I’m happier as that than a Cis guy so I must be, right?”
Without them I wouldn’t have really taken the time to sit down and realize just how fucking weird gender can be, and the kind of things you can do with it.
I will forever remember the moment someone I was chatting to was discussing their pronouns, and pulled out a damn FLOWCHART. It could more or less be summed up as “Cis people: I am a trans dude, I use He/Him pronouns. Binary trans people: I am nonbinary. I use They/Them pronouns. Everyone else: Use whatever weird shit you think applies best to me.” and looking at it forced my third eye open and allowed me to realize just how vast the potential of gender was as a means of self-expression and identity, and how much of our identity rests in our relationships with others.
That was the moment that made me take a step back and go “Well now hold on a second. DO I want to be a girl? AM I a girl at all?” Sitting down and questioning “If I was AFAB, would I be cis?” And realizing that the idea of being a cis girl was just as revolting to me as being a “cis” guy for so much of my life was. Had I been AFAB I absolutely would still end up as trans! Which got me thinking about what my transition goals actually WERE.
Even now years later I stilled haven’t explored the full extent of my gender, and the potential that still lies within it. It’s become so tangled up in my relationship to DID as well as my views of animism. It’s something deeply personal, and I’m not sure if I’d ever even be capable of sharing the full extent of it, though am happy to try for the curious.
The more I talk with friends, the more I realize I’m not alone in this. Bespoke genders are AWESOME and incredibly common actually! Even my ‘cis’ friends that I’ve talked to, when we really explore it, and up saying stuff like “Yeah I’m like 90% cis. There’s certainly SOME complex stuff there but it’s small and not worth the hassle”, but even as they say that I can see that bit of joy of not HAVING to bottle up that tiny bit anymore. And it’s beautiful!
EVERYONE should be comfortable exploring the full extent of their gender. Everyone should take pride in that little tiny sliver of gender fuckery dwelling inside them!
Fucking… reply or tag this post with what your own personal brand of genderfuckery looks like! I wanna hear it! I wanna give everyone that outlet!
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sonder-paradise · 2 years
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𝐁𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭
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◊ characters. kaeya, thoma, childe, diluc, gn!reader
◊ genre. crack, like i mean crack crack
◊ cw. reader’s kinda shameless cause i am, established relationships, yeah i called childe’s chest his tits whadaya gonna do lock me up? i dare yo-
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𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚 is just as surprised as you are at first. that is until a smug look comes over him. you look at him for a moment before burying your face because goddamit if there was ever a moment like this before you better take it right now. of course, he’d likely laugh and pull you closer, asking if you planned such an unlikely occurrence. yeah he’d probably let you do it again “on accident.”
𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚 absolutely does not expect it. he’s stunned enough you slammed your nose right in between his pecs but honestly are you complaining bestie? no that’s what i thought. he apologies profusely until he realizes you seem to be smiling? he practically deflates right then and there after noticing you appear to be taking joy in his avid worries over you. but hey, at least you’re happy and he gets to hold you in his arms for a moment.
𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 probably planned it himself honestly. that little rat bastard lined himself up straight outta your peripheral. so when you smack your face straight into his tits he’s staring at you with a dumbass grin on his face and a very satisfied expression. wraps an arm around your waist slyly and probably swings you some silly pick up line you’ve heard for the millionth time since dating this man or another tease that has you questioning whether or not he expected this outcome. tbh worth it.
𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜 is frozen stiff at the contact. he’s unsure whether or not you’re even aware of who you just slammed into and honestly with how dazed you look, i’m not too sure either. look, if you get anywhere near that man’s chest i consider you a lucky, lucky individual. obviously he brushes you off, pushing you away slightly and avoids your eyes as he tries to move on from the event. but how can he focus again when you’re only staring at his chest now? cause same id be clocked out in an instant.
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Taglist: @xo-cuteplosion-xo @planetxiao @nonsense-corner @ireallylikehamsters @eccedentesiast-sapphic @rebeccka @the-lost-anime-dad @lettucecabbage-kun
Wanna join my taglist? Comment under this post!!
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l3irdl3rain · 6 days
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i know you're a grownass adult and i'm not trying to be patronizing, but please look after yourself and make sure people are not taking advantage of you (even if it's surely without meaning to). like if they did actually look around and try other solutions to find homes for those cats sure, but if "can't find anywhere" just means they couldn't think of what else to do then it might be worth encouraging them to look around first.
i'm sorry if i'm overstepping, i think it's just because you made two posts now about people asking you to take their cats that i got worried.
Do not be mean to anon in the replies. If you guys are mean I will delete your replies and potentially block you!!!
First of all, the picture of the man with his head in his hands was just a joke! That being said I do want to address this. I also want to make it clear that I’m not Angry at you or anything and I know you’re coming from a good place.
All that being said, you do not know me beyond what I share on this blog. I am admittedly a little offended that you would assume that my friend is taking advantage of me when you do not know them or their situation. Asking for help is a very reasonable thing to do in a friendship. And a good friend understands when you say you can’t help.
I also am perfectly capable of standing up for myself and saying no, I have turned away animals before and I will do so again in the future. It is inevitable that when you do the kind of thing I do that there are going to be people who reach out and say “hey! Are you willing to take my pet”. And it’s very important that you are able to say no when you don’t want to or don’t have the means to.
I’m willing to do things for a friend I’ve known half my life that I wouldn’t do for a stranger. This is why when the client asked I told them if they could wait a few months I would be interested. And it’s why I told my friend that I would be willing to make an exception for them.
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kuni-is-daddy · 8 months
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Comfort!Wanderer x Female Reader
Tw: Hints of depression. If you don't know scaras backstory ur gonna get spoiled.
Ft: Teasing,f/ngering, Riding, Scara praises u, aftercare?,he calls you a good girl
Wordcount: 1.77k
CW: Minors do not interact past the cut! This is a NSFW post
ScaraMasterlist
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Before you two go on another outing, 'Hat guy' reluctantly asked nahida for help on another one of his gifts to give you...
"Remember hat guy! if anything happens ring the safety bell, okay? And keep in touch while im at vanarana. I want to make sure you two have an awesome time!" The small archon tippy toed, while 'hatguy' leaned down as she tied the trinket to his feathered ornament. "Tsk- Buer, im far from a child. I dont need anyone to hold my hand like one." Nahida looked up at the puppet, "Really? you never mind ms Y/N holding your hand though." He diverted his gaze and mumbled to himself. "See? I knew you'd like it. Oh right! your gift!"
Hat guy fixed his posture, "Here! Make sure you give this to ms y/n." In her hand was a book of photos she put together for him with little stickers of slimes and aranara with smiley faces, handing it to hatguy as he took his time with each page and noticing the many 'new' pictures, some being ones he didn't give to the lessor lord. "Your a stalker now too? I guess reading minds isnt enough for you." Ignoring his comment buer took out another book. One titled 'Nahida's sumeru travel guide' with a cover drawing of a purple cat barely paying attention to the light green cat. "Do you have to insist on making everything look like a coloring book..." Nahida didnt reply, mearling looking away and humming a tune similar to the aranara while he began his walk to the park.
Whenever you two would hang out together it was in the library within the akedemiya or anywhere he chose. Sometimes as you held his hand walking through the peaceful park your mind would fill the silence in the worst ways possible as he stared at your now frowning expression. "I dont know Kuni, is the akedemiya even worth it anymore? Theirs people smarter than me there anyway." Kuni stopped in his tracks. "But isnt the whole point of the akedemiya just to major in a 'hobby' you like?." he raised an eyebrow. "Well..i guess..but..Theirs obviously people better than me at it." "Id disagree. Besides their Irrelevant. Shouldn't you just do it and have fun. Huh.. I thought thats what hobby's we're. Something for idle bodies to enjoy." You sighed at his response and sat on the bench. "Its not that simple kuni, I have to get a job and- my family what if i have to provide for them too. Ontop of that there really unfair. Why am i putting my heart into this just for it to be a flop." 'A flop?' At your wording he was brought back to his association with the kaedehara clan. Every now and then he'd overhear niwa talking with others over its upending struggles due to the rise of his mothers sword art. Spreading around inazuma like wildfire and Leaving the clan to struggle in its contribution to the arts. But only in a matter of time kuni was able to 'eat' and drink his favorite tea with them in celebration of their success. We're all the struggles just the divine tricks to see who is worthy? was a god playing tricks on you? 'It couldnt be like that..' Kuni put his gift on the bench, and held your hand while sitting with you
"Maybe im overthinking kuni..I-i just dont know.." It pained him to just look at you like this. Tired. Just so tired mentally and physically, tears dreaning down your eyes as you measly sat on the bench. You began to get up, Remembering your responsibilities. "Its fine kuni, you know- maybe I just need some rest! at home!" 'she said that before' He held your hand, uncomfortably tight. His mind always thought to the worst and he never wanted to loose you because of it. Often getting angry at himself for assuming you'd do such a thing..or likewise to what he did. But this time, He just couldnt let go. Was he scared? As much as you implied, you'd never do such things It always rang in the back of his mechanical ears. If only he was still a harbinger, He would've did everything in his power more then he could now to get you the stable income or whatever humans would need in any region or place in teyvat you wanted. Just say the word and he would've done it regardless of her 'excellency' but he couldnt now, all he could do was use this 'curse' which he called emotions to help understand you. "Kuni-...Please let me go....Im alright." you sniffled. He immediately noticed your change in tone. It was soothing just how you always talked to him yet he still felt wary.
With a few more tugs it felt as if his grip only tighter the more you tugged. In defeat, you brokenly sighed and sat back next to the puppet. A part of him was irked at your own confusion. But he never once regretted trying to comfort you through it when, and when you didnt ask. Even awaiting you at your home before you messaged him. It felt as if you sat in the park for hours within cold silence as your throat and chest burned trying making out words but every attempt was cut off by insecurity.
You always knew he loved you, but even your black and white reality began looking different colors. You shuttered while looked at him again, meeting eyes and Surprised that his hat was off. Resting on the bench's crook. "How about..I join the akademiya with you?" you let go of his soft hand, beginning to wipe your eyes until he pulled a green cloth with flowers printed on it out his pants pocket, Damping away your tears as you subtly smiled and sniffled. "I never knew you we're into cute things like this kuni." 'cute?' "Well. You can always rely on this..unique archon of yours to make her presence." you didnt ask any further. "Why do you want to join the akademiya?" "Isnt it obvious? to be with you. and for buer to stop annoying me." he mumbled the last part. "But you dont even have a major or-" "The archives of inazuma can use a rework. I find it ironic how beelz- the raiden shogun is portrayed as some. Beneveloent god, that pursuits eternity." He smirked, Writing a thesis might be one of the most indirect ways he could show up his mother but that had to wait.
You we're more important, and always have been since you entered his life. Kuni noticed his gift. "Oh yeah. Here." he handed you the bag. "Whats in it. More bitter tea for me to try?" he blushed at your answer. "Just open it." you smiled at him again and looked at the pictures in the book. Trying to hold back a laugh at the picture of nahida whacking him uptop his head for god knows what. He looked at the picture, intrigued on why you we're laughing. 'buer you had one fucking job-' then back at you again. "No need to thank me- i-" cutting him off, you kissed kuni on his cheek "I love it kuni." 'his skin is so soft~' you thought. "Then I guess I should thank you too." The puppet shifted closer to you moving the book back in the bag and out of your view behind him. "W-wait kuni- not here we're in a park!" he sucked his teeth and still moved closer to you, sinking his face into your neck as you leaned back "And? thats even better, every person here can know how important you are to me. Got a problem with that?." He began tugging at the buttons on your shirt "Or..Does my baby want to continue this at home? I'll let you choose this time."
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You fumbled with the keys as you locked the door behind you. Kuni was already tugging onto you. Biting and leaving petals of kisses along your neck. "K-kuni~ slow down.." you moaned. "Shit..Love it when you say my name too. This beautiful body is all mine." you turned around to face him, being greeted by his kimono barely hanging onto his shoulders to cover his lean form behind his turtleneck. "Your staring again…Like what you see y/n? Its all for you." He picked you up, bringing you to your bedroom littered in papers, pens and books on your desk. "huh. Do all scholars have a messy room like this?" He chuckled. "S-shut up.."
Kuni laid you onto the bed, observing your body before trailing his hands down to your pants. Letting out a groan. "God. Your fucking beautiful. How dare you treat yourself like this." He slowly tugged your clothes off. Then rubbed his hands along your thighs, spreading your legs and revealing your wet slit. "You want it gentle baby?" you nodded. Sinking his head inbetween your legs, he began licking on your bud. "Kuni~" "Shh…Relax..for me pet." your thighs twitched at the name. "Oh? you like being called that too…ill- mmm~ remember that" he sunk his tongue inside of you, moaning into you incoherent praise. "f-fuck..you- mmm taste- s' good." you rubbed your hand through his hair. Pressing him farther onto you. Usually you didnt take the lead or have him bottomed out for you like this. But it was your special night, as many we're yours to come. Kuni didnt want to stop for celestia itself to make sure you felt loved just as you made him feel. "Wahnt me to stop baby- you- ah..i know you like it." "N-no kuni~ please dont stop." you said while pressing your thighs closer against his head. "Hah..How about my fingers, want that too?" Kuni licked at his fingers after pulling away from your wet hole with a gasp for air. "Yes master~" his cock twitched in his pants. He knew you wanted it slow but god the urge to take you right then and there. He inserted two of his fingers as your walls clenched, slowly shifting in rhythm of his fingers. "Arent you eager hmm? Already want me inside dont you? Thought you wanted me to be gentle." He smiled, Thrusting his digits faster inside you. "K-kuni!! please.. I- ah..hah.." "Yes baby? what does my good girl want." kuni leaned down to you, wanting to hear your delicious moans. "Inside..Please..want you inside~" "Hah..Theres my pet." The two of you switched positions. Kuni laying his lean body on your bed as you climbed ontop of him, slowly sinking him inside you.
"K-kuni..your so big," "And hah..your so warm..oh shit~." You began moving, bouncing up and down on kuni's length. "Oh god baby..L-look at you, bouncing on master so ah-well.." His praise filled your ears, making your body heat up. You two interlocked hands as you both chased your highs. The sound of skin slapping and your wet moans echo'd around the room. "Yes..Yes y/n- fuck yes. I L- ah.. Love you so fucking much, dont stop. dont stop." He squeezed onto your hand, eyes slightly glowing from his pre sloshing up and down inside you. "Kuni~ m' close..Im gonna- i-" "Thats it- just like that- cum for me~ let me hear those beautiful moans-" From his bittersweet praise you came onto his length, squeezing his hand 'tightly' as he soon came after you, Painting your walls with his warm seed. You collapsed onto his chest, Still inside him and coming down from your high. His chest wasn't rising up and down.. which creeped you out a little but you didnt mind.
The two of you laid in the bed. Mumbling every now and then about earlier as he stroked your hair. "I dont expect you to get well instantly y/n. Thats not how things work." "Yeah..Then i guess id be like some sort of puppet right?" you chuckled while trailing your hand along his chest. "Right.." kuni laid his head back. "What im saying is that you have to try at your own pace to get better. Regardless of everyone, its your life you have to live. And i..hate seeing you dwelling here when I know there's someee things your good at. If you get discouraged, I'll be there for you." "And if your not..?" he sighed at your reply. "That'll be rare. Then Call me and we'll go for another walk if you want. Im sure that childish archon has plenty ideas too."(He thought back to the bell). Some of his advice was stuff you've already heard. Even though it is easier said then done your heart warmed at his ideals. He even wanted to get in the akedemiya just for you, he was willing to do so much. Even if you felt better for a day or made the smallest progress Kuni would be proud.
Thank you for reading and I wish you the best :)
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ms--lobotomy · 3 months
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Welcome to the community! Love your style - haven’t had a laugh as good as while reading the worm post in a while.
How about a slice of life piece with Perturabo? I always thought anyone who he considers as a s/o must have a pretty strong personality lol
howdy, anon! first of all, thank you so much! second, im going to take "slice of life" as a slice of life in our universe, not wh40k canon. this means that i can diverge even more from canon than normal! fun!
enough yapping, here's your fic bestie
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summary: you decide to do something nice for perturabo and he doesn't know how to take it because he is so emotionally constipated
word count: 989
content warnings: perty's a rude lil shit but you can take it, right? also implication of diddlin'
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Beams of light found their way through the tree in your front yard into the window at the front of your house and onto the fake-wood floor. It wasn't much as far as houses went, it was small and ratty and some of the lights didn't work. But it was a place to live, and you and your lover had to take what you could get.
Clad in a t-shirt that was many sizes too big for you, you buttered up the old pan that you had and broke three eggs into it. One for you, two for him. They began to bubble from the bottom after a while, and you smiled. You weren't normally the cook in this relationship; he preferred to do the things like cooking himself. But sometimes he would bury himself in his work and forget to eat or otherwise take care of himself. Today was one of those days. When you woke up, you saw him already hard at work on another painting.
As you were getting the bacon from the fridge, you heard the booming footsteps that could only belong to your lover. Perturabo. Your heart stopped in your chest for a split second--this was supposed to be a surprise! Soon enough, he stood in the doorway, almost too tall for it. There was paint on both his shirt and his shorts. He began to speak, his voice booming.
"I thought I was going to be making breakfast today," he said curtly.
"Tough luck," you replied, putting a few strips of bacon on the griddle. The crackle it made was quite satisfying to the ear. "You had your chance and you didn't do it."
He walked over to you, putting his free arm around your waist. His arms were quite large He leaned over you, surveying your handiwork. "You let them cook for too long," he pouted, nestling his head in the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you as you began to separate egg white from egg white.
"I barely cooked these," you said. "Do you want salmonella?"
He chuckled, rocking you back and forth. You couldn't see it, but a slight smile dusted his lips. "Even if I could get it from this," he took a hand away from you quickly to gesture to the food, "it'd be worth it."
"If you're sure," you replied, breaking away from his warm embrace to put his allotted two eggs onto one of the plates that you had pulled out.
While you waited for the rest of it to finish, you grappled for his hand. There were a few paint stains on it, and you had no doubt you'd be getting paint on your hands as well. It's not like you were going anywhere today. He looked... stumped at this development. Almost as if he couldn't process what was going on.
"What, you can't handle some good ol' Christian hand-holding?" you asked, using the broken plastic spatula in your free hand to move the rest of your meal to your plates. "Even after last night?"
The color drained from his face. You got him. You smirked, giving that stupidly warm hand that enveloped yours a squeeze. "No, but really. I promise you that you're just as worthy of affection as..." you trailed off. The people around him? That wouldn't be very worthy in his eyes. Unless it was someone like...
"You're just as worthy of affection as I am." You looked up at him, and the smile on your face was genuine.
You didn't know how a man of his size could let out such a little "Oh...", but he did. He sheepishly let go of your hand and grabbed his plate, the meal looking pathetically small next to him. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he thought of what to say next. Something genuine? Something flippant? Something somehow both?!?
"I wanted to show you something," he finally blurted out. There was still this flustered look on his face as he sat at the table.
You finished your meal soon enough, and as you put your dish in the sink, you felt a hand at the bottom of your jaw. You felt your neck turn at an awkward angle to look up at your lover, and he had a smug grin on his face.
"Close your eyes, dear," he said.
Oh. He said dear. This was serious. As you closed your eyes, you could feel the hand move from your neck to your eyes, enveloping them in darkness. You didn't know why he told you to close your eyes in the first place, but you weren't going to press further. He put his free hand on your shoulder and led you through the small house. You didn't get very far before you got to your bedroom, a small thing with just enough room for an easel and some art supplies.
He removed his hand. The painting faced you, clear as day. It was a beautiful rendition of him holding a worm. If it weren't for the clear brush strokes, it would have looked like a photograph taken of him.
"It's beautiful," you started, "but I don't get it."
"Remember when you asked me if I would love you if you were a worm?" he asked with a chuckle. "This is me. With my beautiful worm partner."
"Oh!" you exclaimed. You remembered asking in the dead of night, while you were nothing but a lump in his arms. He'd dodged the question at the time, but he'd clearly been thinking about it. "So you would love me if I were a worm!" you laughed. "I knew it!"
You threw your arms around him. Despite the difference in size between you two, he recoiled a little bit. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head on top of yours. And in this little house, you were content.
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wordsinhaled · 1 year
Text
something something established relationship shenanigans ~*~ there was more i wanted to add to this, but i had to wallop a pretty impressive bout of imposter syndrome into submission to post this, so i'm just gonna let it float off down the river the way it is <3
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Hob wakes up with his mind already on Dream.
He pictures Dream getting his morning coffee—holding the steaming cup, lid off, the “M” in “Morfius” scribbled on the side peeking out from beneath his grip. They do tend to misspell it, Hob's noticed, in some occasionally tragic ways.
Dream would scoff and say, “This is precisely why I tell them my name is Murphy..." Hob would get his pen out of his shirt pocket and correct Dream's name for him. The ink would feather on the styrofoam, of course, and he'd probably need to tune the nib later, but it'd be worth it for the lift in Dream's forlorn expression, for the tiny satisfied smile it earned.
Hob’s thoughts drift to Dream during his lectures, too.
He remembers how they’d sat up in Hob’s bed together one evening earlier in the week while Hob skimmed through the assigned reading and marked pages in the book with sticky note flags to correspond to his discussion questions. How Dream had said to him, eventually, “You should not do your work in bed, Hob. Beds are to be used for sleep.”
How Dream’s hand had wandered up Hob’s thigh under the covers and curled around his hip, and he'd rubbed small circles there with his thumb, until Hob had looked over at him, and put down his book at last, and said, amused, “Your mind seems a bit far from sleep, love."
He'd found Dream’s eyes sparkling at him, mischievous and starry-dark, before Dream leaned over and took his reading glasses from his face, and said, “Beds can be for other things as well, of course.”
(In the end, Hob was in fact no longer doing that sort of work in bed, so he guesses Dream won that one.)
There’s a knock on Hob’s office door around noon.
Hob is expecting a student, or a colleague, but instead it’s Dream—his Dream, but not quite the same as ever: longer- and wilder-haired, leather-jacketed, taller than usual, an assortment of earrings and studs glinting in his ears.
Hob lights up.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Your thoughts have circled me rather insistently today,” Dream says, “and there was not much to do in the Dreaming. I thought I might visit.”
Hob knows there is always something for Dream to do in the Dreaming—knows Dream is, effectively, taking an actual break if he is here now. It makes his heart feel full to know his lover is choosing to share this scant, stolen time with him—and even more so to know Dream has, for once, done something for himself, however small.
He walks around his desk, kisses Dream hello. Dream tastes, impossibly, like the cinnamon latte Hob had imagined he'd have ordered that morning. He has to kiss him again to make sure; and once more after that, slow and indulgent; until he remembers he has actual work to do, and then he pulls back and touches his fingertips to Dream's choker. “This is new, darling. What’s this look, then?”
“I am... experimenting,” Dream says, the tiniest bit smug. Hob gives him the kind of thorough once-over that he hopes communicates his appreciation raucously enough.
“I’ve been attacking my emails,” he says, going regretfully back to his chair, “they’re never-ending, I swear. And I’ve got a Zoom with Liam about his writing project at two. But I hope you’ll stay anyway? Sit anywhere you like.”
“Of course,” Dream says. “I would not dream of keeping you from your tasks, Hob.” 
Hob just raises his eyebrows at him, pointed, until Dream laughs—a sound that used to be so rare, one Hob is still getting used to being able to evoke. It's an odd little noise, different every time; today it’s pitched low, somewhere between a cat’s purr and a human chuckle, and the vibration of it strokes a gentle but insistent warmth down Hob’s spine.
He expects he’ll accomplish remarkably little, if things go on this way.
Sit anywhere you like proves to be a difficult invitation. Hob’s office is largely taken up by his desk and his bookshelves on the best of days; his bicycle and umbrella vie for one corner. Most of the remaining space is currently occupied by a massive box, which contains Hob’s most recent order of secondhand books. Seating for visitors is almost an afterthought at the minute.
Yet Dream accepts Hob's challenge with aplomb, settles on the unopened box as though it is as good as any throne to him, and Hob returns to clearing out his messages.
He can feel Dream watching him, but whenever he glances up over the top of his computer, Dream has his nose buried in some tome or other plucked from Hob’s shelf. The afternoon passes like this—all through Hob’s Zoom call, during which Hob listens more distractedly than he'd like to Liam's latest additions to his thesis draft, and sweats lightly under the heat of Dream's gaze.
The moment his meeting is done, Hob snaps his laptop shut, the resounding click making Dream look up from the copy of Women's Libraries in Late Medieval Bourbonnais, Burgundy, and France he'd been perusing.
"Want to get out of here?" Hob asks.
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faithforgottens · 1 year
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𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆.
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from the writer’s desk: i’d tell you i started this a year ago after deciding i needed closure on post - crying on newport beach about how i’m incapable of being loved but that would mean me unloading all over the dash, and nobody needs that. i’m just a girl, out here projecting like tomorrow’s not coming, and thought i’d share. please know that i love carol, i just had to pick a character that i didn’t have strong emotional attachment to in order to play my villain. motivation to continue this would be much appreciated, thnx.  summary: you’ve been stuck in carol’s web for nearly four months now, and you need a distraction before you go postal and commit a capital crime or worse, tell her you love her. fortunately for you, natasha’s willing to offer her services. contains: college!natasha x female reader —— warnings include toxic relationship dynamics that involve infidelity, gaslighting and cheating, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, nsfw content [ fingering, dirty talk ]. →  inbox status: OPEN                                        don’t repost my works anywhere.
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INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     am i gonna see you tonight?
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     :(
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     hellllllooooooooooo??
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     I WANNA SEE U I MISS UR PRETTY FACE
INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     pls come tonight. it would mean everything to me
You’ve never claimed to be smart.
In fact, you’re pretty sure you have to fall on the opposite end of that spectrum in order to bother showing your face tonight at the behest of Carol fuckin’ Danvers. Satan. It’s the work of the goddamn devil pulling you from the clutches of your apartment’s comfortable silence where you’d be much better off riding through the nuanced gut-punching waves of disappointing Carol guilt instead of the hell storm that is being played once again by Carol guilt. You even put on eyeliner for such an occasion, because if you’re going to get fucked over (either physically, emotionally, or both), you might as well look good doing it.
Her name’s still lighting up your phone as the Uber drops you off at the curb, boasting a flood of pictures on Snapchat that illuminate the awaiting scene inside of the frat house through blurry streaks of glass bottles and marijuana smoke and the pale expanse of her neck where a glint of her gold necklace flashes is promised to you to do as you wish, leaving behind bruises or lip prints. It’s an enticing picture painted for you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think maybe tonight will be the night she tells you she’s free from the clutches of Maria, her perfectly sane girlfriend that you’ve only ever known through Carol’s jilted lens, and that she’ll even let you climb her like a tree in front of her friends.
Lucky you.
Except you do know better. In the pit of your stomach, you know the reality is that you are in closer proximity than Maria, which therefore makes you the most convenient piece of ass at Carol’s disposal, that Carol believes — and is likely right about how — you’re still wound tight enough around her finger to make you drop to your knees like a good little girl, blinded by her golden halo of hair and the whiskey-soaked taste of her lips and ready to excuse her shit treatment of you. That even feeling like you have her for the beat of a butterfly’s wings is worth your sanity. And despite it all, it isn’t enough to keep you away. It’s not enough to exile the parts of a masochistic heart beating in your chest that somehow loves her, even if the only part of you she loves is your willingness to show up for her.
Carol’s fraternity is co-ed, which means that between all of the brothers, their social circle extends to the farthest corners of the university — they consume a fair bit of your own, considering you have at least two classes a semester with Bucky, sit with them at Wanda’s softball games (mostly so you can talk shit about your high school ex that made the team), and rent study rooms at least once a month with Thor, Bruce, and Val to spiral into late night insanity while you all contemplate the meaning of life and attempt to memorize vocabulary words. You slip in through the door, bass thudding into your molars and the heavy blanket of smoke and sweat covers your bare shoulders as you weave your way through the house.
“Look who finally showed up!” Behind the counter in the kitchen is Sam Wilson, running position as makeshift bartender. You detour long enough for a vodka and Diet Coke, stopping next to the barstool that Bucky’s perched on. He tucks you underneath his arm for a side hug, other hand tipping his own solo cup back as he tries to drain the last bit of liquor down his throat.
They’re good friends to you. It’s why you hate doing this dance with Satan — because at some point, you feel that there’s going to be a tectonic shift between the two of you that dredges up a rift in the concrete and you don’t know who will be left on your side. You don’t know who you’ll be able to look in the eye and lie to about Carol, who would pick you over her. You don’t even know if any of them would believe you or would write you off as crazy as you’ve been writing yourself off as of late.
You tell yourself that you’re trying, goddammit, to shove that piece of yourself back into a locked drawer and enjoy the company of your friends.
“Anybody seen Danvers?” you pitch as nonchalantly as you know how, planting your elbows down onto the granite of the counter while you watch Sam mix your drink. He goes heavy on the vodka, which you quietly appreciate.
Bucky snorts. “Yeah, we’ve seen her alright.”
“She’s in the dining room trying to rally everyone into a round of strip beer pong,” Sam explains. “Last we saw, she got her shirt stuck in the chandelier.”
“The face of class, this fraternity,” you tease as Sam hands you your drink. He can’t help but laugh, a jovial, guttural noise that makes you smile, even though your stomach is currently in your throat.
You bid them farewell and snake through the living room, trying to avoid the furniture or the bodies of other people and almost always fail in avoiding both at the same time as you carve out a path to the dining room. It’s densely packed, which forebodes the game of beer pong that the boys mentioned. You try not to cut your elbows into the bones and flesh of others to make your way through, but your adrenaline is humming at the thought of seeing Carol, the thought of her body glowing in the house lights and the cut of her physique out on display for anyone, including you, to openly ogle without abandon.
“Goddamn, Danvers!” someone yells mirthfully. “Keep it in your pants!”
Whistling down to one thought, one track, your mind lasers in and you’re positive that the sharp point of your elbow nails T’Challa directly in the ribs as you finally make it to the inner lip of the circle around the dining room table. It’s desperate. You know it’s desperate. You'll care about it later, you’re sure, but for now, all that’s on your mind is her.
“For the love of fuck, I—” Someone stumbles back into you, dark hair in frizzy waves and the bill of their baseball cap nearly jabbing straight into your nose. Wanda Maximoff spins around, her eyes lightening up at the sight of you as she grabs onto your wrist to stable herself. “Oh! Hey, babe,” she says with a smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.”
“Me either,” you tell her, trying not to be blatant as you scan for Carol. “Carol didn’t tell me until last minute.”
“Boo,” Wanda pouts, before turning to yell over her shoulder, “Danvers! Fuck you!”
“Get in line!” Carol calls back, and your head locks in on where her voice comes from. Your stomach plunges into free fall when you see her: as promised, she’s standing around in her sports bra and jeans, white teeth glinting and blonde hair curling around onto her tanned shoulders, biceps on display and her arms snaked around — her.
Maria Hill, in the flesh, pressed against Carol’s side and her chin balanced on Carol’s shoulder as Carol makes a shot one-handed that successfully lands in a cup on the opposite end of the table. Carol cheers victoriously, and Maria kisses her cheek, and you notice that Carol’s hand on Maria’s side drifts down towards her ass.
All of Carol’s messages swim inside your mind, the ones where she assures you that it’s all real, that she and Hill are done, that Hill’s holding her back, that she’s felt things for you since the moment she laid eyes on you and just knew; the ones where she paints a beautiful picture of a future with you, the same picture she’s just doused in cheap spirits and ruined for the dozenth time. Your drink suddenly tastes like arsenic, heavy and uneven in your stomach, the room shrinking and heat crawling up your neck in an uncomfortable panic. You are going to be sick.
Wanda’s voice comes through in the midst of the ringing in your ears. Fuck you, Danvers.
It takes you a moment to realize that Wanda’s voice isn’t just a reverberation inside your mind, but is right in your ear. “Hey!” She calls your name again, and you finally snap your attention back to her. She scans over your face for a moment, eyebrows folding in the center of her brow. “You alright? Where’d you just go?”
The shock is fresh on your face, salt water from the crashing wave that’s irritating your eyes — you refuse to let yourself cry, here in front of everyone, because all that’s going to do is open the door to a conversation you don’t want to have, incite a fight with Carol that you’ll surely lose, leave you feeling even lower than you do at the moment. You shake your head, trying to shake whatever emotions that aren’t nonchalant off of your face. “Noth—nowhere,” you stammer, voice an octave higher than usual. Wanda’s perplexity only deepens. “More crowded than I thought. Got beer-splashed.”
Wanda breaks into a smile, seemingly buying your excuse. “C’mon, what’d you expect?” she ribs. It’s a loaded question, and if Wanda wasn’t Wanda, you’re sure it’d be enough to light your rapidly shorting fuse. The thin strain in your falsified smile must give something away, because she softens the slightest bit and wraps her arm around yours. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll kick your ass sideways in pool.”
You appreciatively take Wanda’s out, allowing her to guide you away from the Carol show and the crowd of people you have steeled yourself in order to not cry in front of and head with her towards the basement, which the frat has renovated into a lounge space with a giant television, sectional that is infamous for its hosting of The Threesome, and the pool table. It hasn’t garnered quite the same audience that the beer pong game has, but less people means you feel slightly less suffocated. Carol’s still got her foot on your throat, but down here, it’s easier to maneuver and act as though you haven’t just had yourself made a fool in front of everyone without them knowing.
Relieved for the little things, like elbow room, you sit down on the arm of the sectional and take a long drink from your cup — if you’re going to survive the rest of the night without your tail tucking between your legs (and you’re determined to further your self-sabotage by going the extra mile to ensure Carol knows she fucked up, even though it’s likely she doesn’t care) you’ll have to be drunker than this. Wanda adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a pool cue, glancing back over her shoulder at you. “Want someone to show you how it’s done?” she teases.
You lift your cup in acknowledgment, smile shedding off of your lips. “Go for it.”
As Wanda weasels her way into the current game of pool, you do a quick intake of who all’s downstairs. There’s a few of the brothers, a few of the brother’s dates, people that are otherwise background characters designed to make campus seem at capacity but not so many people that no one would notice if you threw up in the corner or worse, started crying. You purse your lips around the rim of your solo cup, scanning the company around the pool table. Wanda sidles up next to another one of her brothers, poking her with the pool cue. “Nat!” Wanda whines. “Give me room.”
Natasha Romanoff shuffles out of the way with the roll of her eyes. “Poke me with the stick again and it’s gonna go somewhere less than ideal.”
Wanda flicks her middle finger upright before hunching around the shape of the pool cue. “You don’t scare me, Natty.”
“Your funeral.”
Your eyes follow Natasha out of the way, and she feels their weight because the next thing you know, you’re off the cliffs and deep somewhere inside the greenery of her eyes. They’re pretty eyes, you idly note, and you find yourself mulling over Natasha Romanoff, as a person, as a concept, as Natasha. She’s the oldest of the girls in the fraternity, a senior to your junior, and she’s been around for so long that it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t there. It’s hard to imagine a room without her in it, a constant fixture on the mantel that you don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore.  
She cocks an eyebrow at you after what’s sure to be a long moment of staring, and Wanda, who is unfortunately more observant than you’d like to believe, begins laughing. “Am I interrupting this little staring contest?”
Natasha smirks. “I could win a staring contest and kick your ass at the same time, Maximoff.”
“Show off,” Wanda grumbles as she passes the pool cue over to Natasha. She then looks at you, and whatever grumpiness dissipates, her shit-eating grin returning. “Now, you on the other hand,” she preludes with a gesture towards you. “There’s no way.”
You drain the rest of your drink and discard the cup off to the side. "You talk a lot, Wan,” you inform her as you walk up to the side of the pool table. Wanda just grins as you turn to Natasha, gesturing for the pool cue. “Let me have a go.”
Natasha acquiesces and passes you the pool cue, giving you the space you need coupled with a low nod of encouragement. There are a few clusters of balls around the table and you’re trying to eye up a shot that’ll give you not only a handful of points, but will get Wanda off your back — even if you are grateful for the timing of her diversions.
Unfortunately, it’s not enough; you can still hear the laughter and music through the walls from upstairs, a raucous noise that scatters your train of thought. Is it Carol? What’s she doing? What’s she whispering into Hill’s ear? Does she know you’re even here? Does she care? 
Probably not.
You take the shot without thinking, balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. Wanda barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”
“Just getting warmed up,” you say stiffly, handing the pool cue off.
Wanda’s face is alight with amusement, nodding slowly as she moves around the pool table for her next shot. “Okay.”
You’re too far in your head, and you know it. You’re content to linger on the outskirts of the game while everyone else that Wanda goes about recruiting takes their turn. It’s a few minutes or an hour before the cue ends up back in your hand, like a rickety sort of clockwork that is unexpected but also entirely predictable. You assess the situation and find a decent enough angle now that the game has progressed, significantly so.
You bend over slightly, eyes fixed on a blue ten that’s not too far from the cue. Before you can make the shot, you hear someone behind you muttering. “Do it like this.”
When you glance over your shoulder, it’s Natasha, only a few inches from where you stand, hands hesitating before she reaches out. “Back up,” she guides, her hands stationing on your hips and forcing you to take a half-shuffle of a step backwards. “And lift your elbow like this.” You’re clay and she shapes you how she wishes, her touch feather light. “Okay. Now try.”
You do exactly as she says, pool cue shooting from your hand and colliding with the cue ball. The ten you’ve had your eyes on sails into the pocket without any interference. 
“Nice shot, sweetheart,” Natasha says, her voice ghosting along the back of your spine. As you straighten up, you glance behind you, noticing the faint grin along the curve of her lips.
“Well that wasn’t sexual at all,” Wanda comments with a low whistle as the pool cue returns to her grip. “Do losers get laid still? I wouldn’t know.” With a toothy flash of a grin, she draws the cue back and makes another shot — you’re not entirely focused on her efforts, thanks to the gravity of Natasha’s sights still pressing deep into your skin.  
Wanda talks a big enough game that she recruits nearly everyone standing around the pool shot to give it a go, which provides a window of opportunity for Natasha to brush a hand along your shoulder and steal you away. “Up for a smoke?” she asks, and you nod. You allow her to lead the way out through the basement’s French doors, slipping outside into the backyard where the sky is dotted with stars, the air smells only the slightest bit cleaner, and the music is nothing but a dull pulse from inside the house.
Natasha steers you away from the patio where other fraternity brothers and their guests are sitting around, enjoying their drinks and laughing amongst their idle, stoned conversations around the fire pit. You follow her into the grass, trailing around the side of the house until the two of you don’t have any other company aside from each other and Thor’s knockout rose bushes that he takes great pride in.
She leans up against the wall, hands fishing in the pocket of her jacket for her lighter. For someone who’s devoted the rest of their evening to shooting metaphorical (or even literal) middle fingers in Carol’s direction, you’re still too far on edge to be nonchalant about any of it. The quiet is all consuming, maddening inside of your buzzing mind. Natasha produces a joint, embers burning on the end as she lights it and brings it up to her lips. You’re left to watch as she takes a long, casual drag, a cloud of smoke billowing from her lips on the exhale. Her wrist then extends, offering the joint up; if there is such a thing as too eager, you’d be the poster child for it, the way you pluck it from her fingers and take a hit.
“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice a low drag of gravel against the muted bass thud inside of the house. You open an eye and glance over at her, her green eyes burning holes through you as she watches. 
“Eh,” you mutter half-heartedly with a shrug. “Not worth it.”
You pass the joint back to her after you take one more drag, your eyes fixed on the steady stream of smoke that you forcibly control the exit from your mouth. It’s nice to have control over something, you think, even if it is, to some degree, just seeing how long you can hold your breath. 
“Seems like you could use a distraction,” Natasha comments, fingers idly rolling the joint between her fingers as smoke still curls from the tip. 
You laugh, a low and guttural noise that’s passive at best. “Yeah, probably.”
Natasha turns so her entire body is facing you, and it doesn’t register, the way that she’s looking at you, until you feel her brush your hair off of your face. Your eyes fully open, somewhat surprised by the action, watching her carefully. Natasha’s a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one you’d readily associate with her. It’s almost like she’s handling you like glass, waiting for the right moment to shatter you. It’s a hiccup in your chest, a strange feeling washing over your body.
“Let me distract you, then.” She says it simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to arrive at.
“Nat, what...”
“C’mere.” One of her hands encircles your wrist, guiding you closer. You follow wordlessly in her guidance, unsure of what she’s doing or what’s to come. She takes another hit of the joint, her eyes glowing the same way the end of the joint does, a low burning fire that seems to grow hotter the longer your eyes are connected. 
The hand holding your wrist slides up your body until she’s cupping your jaw, her thumb darting across the expanse of your face to swipe across your lips in a prompt to open them. She lowers the joint, bringing her face inches away from your own as her mouth forms a perfect circle and releases smoke. You’ve shotgunned weed before, but never at such a close proximity. Natasha breathes out and you breathe in, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of the moment. 
“Gonna let me distract you some more?” she whispers, and you barely register yourself nodding before her lips capture your own. Her mouth is plush and soft but nothing about her is gentle anymore — this is where she forces a spiderwebbing crack across your surface, the deft way in which she manipulates your lips to do exactly as she’d like, her tongue skating across the skin and opening your mouth to allow her access. You can’t help but to sigh into the kiss. She is exactly what she claims she is: a distraction, a welcome reprieve, and the golden halo around Carol’s head seems fuzzy and jilted now.
Natasha kisses you like she’s trying to set you on fire; at some point she has absconded the joint and ground out its remnants into the mulch, both her hands cupping your face as she boxes you in with her legs and adjusts the two of you so your back is now flush against the wall. “How’s this?” she murmurs against your ear, lips starting a descent down your neck that is feather light and the gentle scrape of her teeth.
“Very... very distracting,” you stammer out, fingers curling into fiery red hair. 
“Good,” Natasha hums, her mouth vibrating over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone that causes your grip in her hair to tighten. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so far in your head.” 
You nod, thankful for the reward of her body pressing against yours. 
“What d’you say?” Her voice ghosts over your skin, and for a moment, you’re not sure what it is she’s asking. It takes a moment, the weed and the liquor clouding your mind, but the dig of Natasha’s blunt fingernails into your hips and the graze of her teeth along your skin serves as motivation. “Huh? What d’you say, princess?” 
“Thank you,” you gasp, the feeling of her mouth tightening around your skin wet and hot sending a glimmer of electricity down your spinal cord. Natasha chuckles, a dark and melodic noise that buzzes through your body. 
“You’re welcome,” she croons. “’S that all you needed? Or do you need more?”
More. It’s the knee jerk response you have, the way your world has narrowed down to just her and the scent of her heady perfume and each individual curve of muscle is now flush against you. Your eyes open only to see Natasha grinning like she’s the fuckin’ devil. 
Maybe you were misplaced somehow.
Natasha’s hands drag over your sides, up and down roughly as she kisses you and forces your legs farther apart so she’s able to snake one of her thighs in between them. She rucks your top up on the edges, fingers brushing over your skin in a delightful contrast to the cool evening air. Natasha is hot, her touch burning and singeing the skin wherever it moves. She’s painting you out of ashes and making you into something beautiful, something uniquely her own. Her hands slip underneath your shirt and you feel one hand trail upwards, fingers wrapping around your breast before squeezing. It elicits another tiny moan from you, which Natasha swallows down with a kiss. “Shh,” she hisses against your lips. “Be quiet.”
You arch into her touch as her fingers slip beneath the cup of your bra and pinch your nipple tight, another squeak of pleasure groaned into her mouth. It only encourages her further, the other hand of hers moving in the opposite direction. “Want me to touch you?” she whispers in your ear while you press your mouth into her shoulder, breath warm against your ear and her teeth just barely missing your earlobe. “Bet you’re not distracted now; only thing you and that pussy are thinking about is me, huh?”
“Fuck, Nat,” you mumble into her skin.
“Yeah you are,” she replies with a shit eating grin, your head tilting back until it roughly meets the back of the wall as her hand goes up your skirt. 
You’d been meticulous prior to coming over, thinking on whatever lone star trailing in the sky that you’d be seducing Carol tonight; you’d purposefully worn your skimpiest pair of underwear just to show her what she could have if she was with you. It’s only when you see the look on Natasha’s face, the way her pupils dilate and her jaw slackens the slightest bit as her fingers skim in between the folds of your thigh and vulva and feels lace that you feel something resembling satisfaction. “You came ready for a distraction, princess,” she grumbles, moving your underwear to the side and swiping her fingers through what is now sheer want dripping from you. “Fuck, you’re wet.”
“N... Nat,” you whine, squirming around in the pursuit of pressure. “Touch me.”
She places the tip of her finger at your entrance, just barely teasing it in. “Ask nicely, honey.”
The words spill from your lips without thought. “Please, Nat, please touch me, fuck m—” She cuts you off as she slips her finger inside of you and you all but rocket up the side of the wall at the feeling. Her free hand, still underneath your shirt, wrestles out from beneath the fabric and is slapped over your mouth to muffle whatever noise you make.
“Thought I told you to be quiet,” she says between her gritted teeth. “Here.” She presses her index and middle fingers against your lips and you acquiesce, opening them wide enough to allow them to slip in. “Suck.”
You do as you’re told, happy to oblige as she begins to finger you. There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way she fucks you; she adds another finger and finds a steady rhythm, curling each time she’s knuckle deep inside of you just so she can be rewarded with you humming around the fingers in your mouth. It amuses her to some extent, the way her eyes have darkened and her mouth is slightly agape. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and considering how tight you are wound, you’re not going to last long.
"Clench around me, pretty girl,” she hisses amongst the other litany of dirty things she’s whispering in your ear. “Such a sweet pussy, does whatever I ask it to; what if I want this pussy all to myself? You gonna let me have it?”
You nod, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before she hauls you in for the filthiest kiss of your life. “Fuck,” you whimper against her lips. “Yours, Nat, your pussy.”
“Yeah, I know. This is my pussy now, all tight and hot and wet and desperate just for me. This was what you needed, wasn’t it? Needed me to fuck you silly until you forget how to put one foot in front of the other.”
“Please, Nat, gonna...” 
“What?” she teases, her thumb flicking across your clit and you know that she’s doomed you, mind and body barreling down a track that there is no return from. “What, baby? Use your words.”
“Gonna come,” you manage to get out, and she fucking laughs.
“‘S right,” she agrees. “Gonna make this little pussy come all over my fingers, since I’m the only one who can. That right?” You nod; her fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back so your neck is exposed for her. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you make a mess on my hand. Come for me like a good little slut. You know you want to.” You do, you do, and everything is bordering on the edge of too much the way Natasha is sucking your neck and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Show me who’s pussy this is. Come.”
Another few thrusts and flicks of your clit and you are gone, Natasha bringing her mouth back to yours to swallow the keens and cries of you hitting your climax. The brick wall underneath you scratches at your shirt but it is a heavenly feeling, losing control underneath Natasha. She just smiles when she pulls away and you slump into her, perfectly sated. 
“That was hot,” she says with a wicked grin, pulling her fingers out of you. She doesn’t break eye contact as she brings them up to her lips, sucking your taste off of them. Her eyes alight with pleasure, a contented hum reverberating from her vocal cords. “Thanks, pretty girl.”
Beat that, Danvers.
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ovobawrites · 7 months
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𝐵𝑒𝒶𝒸𝒽: 𝐸𝓅𝒾𝓈𝑜𝒹𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓊𝓇 ♡ 𝐹𝒷𝑜𝓎𝓈 𝒜𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓎𝓂𝑜𝓊𝓈
disclaimer: this has already been posted on ao3 and quotev, i'm just reposting this beach episode special as a promo for the fic. after this is all my previous author notes.
this is a fem!reader and also a half chinese!reader insert.
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Dusk tinted the beach in oranges and purples as your group walked over to your bags. All of you were soaking wet, leaving trails of water droplets behind you as you trudged through the sand. Leona and Vil glanced over from where they were conversing, the lion looking as tired as usual while Vil seemed to be slightly more tanned than before. 
"So who won?" Leona asked, eyes half lidded as he leaned on a pillow Ruggie had set up for him.
You beamed, elated. "I did!"
"Yes, you really shocked us." Azul sighed, "If only you were on our team, then we would have easily won!"
"Oh please," Riddle scoffed, "Malleus and Lilia had gotten us out of your 'trap' so easily it was hardly a hindrance! Your small group was nothing compared to our team."
"Aww is goldfishie mad that he didn't save koi fishie~?" Floyd slung an arm over Riddle's shoulder and laughed. "You're not even strong enough to carry her!"
Jade chuckled alongside him. "Now now, Floyd, we wouldn't want to upset Riddle too much... even if what you're saying is true."
Cater sighed. "Oh no..."
"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME! I AM NOT WEAK!" Riddle yelled, face as red as his hair. "HOW DARE YOU!"
Floyd just laughed and reached for Riddle as the boy struggled to pull away from him. The two started play-fighting, well, Floyd was. Riddle was trying to strangle Floyd... despite the fact that he could barely reach his neck...
Trey nudged Cater and the two struggled to separate Riddle from Floyd. The two of them did their best to calm down their housewarden... but Jade joining the taunting put a stop to their plans. 
"It was rather fun to play that game." Malleus spoke up from besides you. "I particularly enjoyed swimming, though I don't understand why I could not just teleport over..."
Lilia tsked. "But where's the fun in that? Besides, then we wouldn't have gotten the chance to see dear (Y/N) save herself."
"You did very well," Silver gave you a soft smile. "I'm surprised at how quickly you swam."
"Right? You moved so quickly!" Ruggie chimed in, grin on his face. "How'd you do it?"
"Ah." You looked away. "My brother taught me how to swim that quickly."
Silver nodded, "Oh... so you won't drown..."
"No, it was so that I could escape any assassins while at the beach..."
Ruggie looked pensive. "Can't assassins just... swim after you?"
"That's why he taught me to swim fast."
"...So we're just gonna ignore the assassins part?" Idia muttered off to the side, like he was one to talk.
"At least I'm not the heir of a famous noble family." You replied. 
Idia rolled his eyes. "And yet I've never had to swim away from any assassins."
"And when you do I'm sure you'll drown." 
"That's no true, I'll have Ortho to rescue me."
Ortho nodded. "Big brother gave me a tracking software so I can locate him from anywhere in the world!"
Slightly concerning, but okay. 
"Why don't you just teleport away from any assassins?" Malleus wondered. "Would that not be more convenient?"
The rest of the group gave him a look. Riddle and Floyd paused their fight just to stare at him incredulously. If it weren't for the fact that Malleus was a crown prince, you would have thought he'd been living under a rock for his whole life. Besides, didn't he know?
"Teleportation fúlù are really expensive, Malleus. Just because I have them doesn't mean I'd use them to get away from some annoying assassin!"
"Your family's net worth is like, in the millions." Idia mumbled. 
"That doesn't mean I'm going to spend money like it's water!"
"Are you not more concerned about the assassin who'd kill you? Who cares about money when their life is on the line!" 
"Money is more important than life..." Ruggie shrugged, a sneaky glint to his eyes. 
"See! Ruggie agrees!"
"He does not! Ruggie is an outlier, if you ask anyone else they would back ME up!"
"How dare you call Ruggie an outlier!" You growled. "Look at him!" You pulled the hyena towards you and gestured to Idia. "He's so adorable, how could you say that about him?!"
"Just because he's adorable doesn't mean he's a good voice of reason! Ortho's way cuter anyways!"
"I think Silver is the cutest~" Lilia sang with a wide smile. "He was so adorable as a child-"
"Fa-Lilia! Don't say that!" 
Not breaking eye contact for a moment, Idia shouted, "Stay out of this, Lilia!" 
"Uh, Cater?"
"Yeah Trey?"
"Which fight do we break up?"
"...good question."
"Ortho, while admittedly adorable, is in no way cuter than Ruggie!"
"Leona, help me!"
"Yeah, Ruggie is definitely more adorable than your brother, Radish sprout." The lion spoke up.
"Leona!" Ruggie hissed.
"What?" He replied with a smug look. "I'm helping to defend your honor."
"If you wanted to help, that you'd get me out of here!"
"I don't understand why you think Ruggie is cuter than Ortho! Just look at the two!" Idia yanked Ruggie out of your arms and stood him and Ortho side-by-side. "Ortho has bigger eyes, a happier face and chubbier cheeks. He's definitely the cutest here!"
"Don't worry Silver, I still think you're the cutest!"
"Thank you, Father-Lilia."
"That's true, but Ruggie has the cutest personality! And besides, doesn't his thin frame make you want to smother him with care?"
At this point, sparks were bouncing off of the two of you as you glared at each other. Idia's hair was red in anger while your (e/c) eyes were almost glowing. At least Idia's hair was hot enough to evaporate the water from the ocean, drying off your bodies instantly. He took a step closer to you, and you responded by closing the distance even more. 
"What do you mean, 'Ruggie has the cutest personality'?! Ortho is so much more sweet! He's way more moe than Ruggie!"
"Firstly, I don't know what that even means! Secondly," The two of you had gotten so close to each other that your nose was almost touching Idia's chest, you had to crane your neck up to look at him. "I think you're just jealous!"
"Wh- Jealous!" Idia's face went pink, his hair following suit. He breathed in and then yelled out, "I'm NOT JEALOUS!"
"Okay..." Floyd said, "This is so not funny anymore."
"Agreed," Azul pushed up his glasses. "Jade? Mind helping Floyd to separate the two?"
"Of course, Azul." Jade's ever present smile had gotten darker when he saw how close you and Idia had gotten.
At Idia's yell, you had to hold back a flinch. You had let your emotions get hold of you. Ah. This was bad, how embarrassing. Your cheeks flushed. 
"O-okay..." You took a step back and looked off to the side, a full 180 from your brash attitude from before. 
This, of course, did not go unnoticed, and Azul took the opportunity to get Jade and Floyd to distract you while he talked to Idia. With your eyes off to the side, you missed the worried glance Idia shot at you, and the concern from the other boys. 
How could you let your emotions dictate your actions?!
I'm meant to be proper and polite, not- your thoughts spiraled even further.
The lack of control you showed was revolting. You had done the exact thing you were taught to never do. Self-loathing flooded your veins as you felt ashamed over your actions. You had gotten too heated, too angry. You were never meant to be that. It was- You were- a disgrace.
"(Y/N)?" Jade's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "Are you... alright?"
"Ah-" You looked up at him and Floyd, who had walked over to you and stood almost as a divider between yourself and the others. "-I'm fine. There's no need to worry."
It was like shutters divided you from your emotions once more. Floyd couldn't help but miss the much freer you that was there just before. Your face was like jade, cold and emotionless. The only hint of the anger from before was shown in your eyes for just a moment. Then, it disappeared too. 
"...Are you sure?" Floyd leaned in, uncharacteristically solemn. "You know that wasn't a big deal, right?"
And he hit the nail on the head, by the looks of it. Your face displayed just a modicum of shock before swiftly returning to its stone-cold state. 
"No one's upset with you for breaking composure." Jade pointed out, him and Floyd leaning towards you. "In fact, your argument was rather amusing."
"Yeah, it was fun to see koi fishie so mad!" Floyd smiled. "You looked so passionate, it was so cute!"
"C-cute?!" You flushed a bright pink, ears to shoulders tinted in that warm colour. 
This reaction did not go unnoticed, Floyd and Jade exchanging a look before moving in even closer.
"Yes, you looked absolutely adorable." 
"I- oh. Thank you." You realised what they meant. Cute as in a kitten's hiss cute, not as in... attractive. 
...I shouldn't get side-tracked. 
You moved to grab your bag and dry your hair off. You had mostly dried off thanks to Idia's flaming hair, but you could still feel the unpleasant sensation of sea-salt sticking to your skin. A towel quickly and carefully got rid of most of the remaining moisture, and with a quick rummage through your bag, you put on your sundress once more. In that time, Kalim had popped up by your side with a kind smile. 
"You were super cool just then!" He remarked, "It was so fun to play with you, and it was so cool when you flipped Jade over!"
"That was nothing." You remarked offhandedly, "I only really intervened because I was getting a bit bored."
You missed the small frown Kalim gave at those words, remembering your bright excitement from before.
"Even so..." he started, "it was still amazing to see it happen. You were so fast! I was so afraid Jade or Floyd were gonna catch you but you got to the 'rescue point' just in time!" 
"Ah- thank you." The genuine praise was difficult to respond to, a warmth in your chest from just those simple words. "I doubt I would have won had I not managed to get Jade to crash into Floyd though... that cost them some time."
"But you did! So it doesn't matter if that didn't happen, since you won and it did!"
Oh. That's what I'm feeling.
It wasn't pride or happiness or glee. It was the warmth you feel around your brother. It was familial love. 
Oh dear.
This was... concerning. You've never felt this... love... for anyone before. Not since your brother. 
But that was a problem for later, for now, you were going to ignore it. After all, repressing it may just make it go away. You don't need this feeling, not now. 
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Mini Theatre Ruggie: Mommy, daddy, stop fighting ;-;  Idia: Shut up!- Wait what- O///O (Y/N): Don't talk to him like that!  Ruggie: Omfg Leona save me from these stupid idiots already!!!
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and here is the fourth part of the beach ep. if you'd like to read the rest of the fic, you can read it on ao3 here, and on quotev here.
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kennysflowers · 2 months
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girl i’ve always been (roy harper x batsis!reader)
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this is my first fic!!!! AHHH!!!!!!!! vv nervous posting this rn 🤞 it’s based off olivia rodrigo’s song ‘girl i’ve always been’ which i was listening to while writing… hope u enjoy! 🫶
warnings: toxic relationship, reader is rude, sex mention, pretty sure that’s all
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roy didn’t know what it was about you that had him as infatuated as he was.
was it your face? yes. your intellect and superb intuition? also yes. maybe it was the sex?? definitely yes. god, he’s not that shallow is he?
maybe it was your bitter and cold personality. your hurtful comebacks during arguments, or even minor disagreements. or it could be all the times he’s woken up to an empty bed after a night spent with you.
as much as he’d like to say it’s not the latter — he loves it and you know that, of course. the back and forth, the fights that last anywhere from an hour to several months. hell, he even loves your sharp words, but only because they’re coming from your beautiful mouth.
you knew you weren’t the nicest person, actually pretty much everybody knows that. i mean, your cunning remarks and bitterness are what have gotten you this far, after all. to be fair, you’ve admitted to being sly and rude many times before. sooo maybe its his fault..?
of course you’re working on it tho (as you have been for years), he knows this. he keeps this in mind as you try to get the last word in, slamming his door immediately after. it’s times like those where he feels he doesn’t know you anymore. where he feels the need to ask who’ve you become.
but when it was good, it was really good. late nights and early mornings spent with you might be worth all the trouble.
even though you were a bit of a bitch, you knew how to love. you knew exactly what to say and when to say it. you’re affectionate and loving and sweet and caring and god, he’ll never feel anything like it ever again.
and that’s why he feels the need to keep trying to make it work with you. why he’ll always try to make it work.
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i am open to (kind) constructive criticism! let me know how i can improve my writing 😁 also would like to note that my writing will probably never line up with the actual dc timeline!! bc i’m awesome and sexy and make my own rules ok bye
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tanadrin · 7 months
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@zvaigzdelasas arguing in replies is annoying, so i am just going to put this in a post
Khmer Rouge wouldn't have been what it was without the US overthrowing Sihanouk bc of his perceived socialist sympathies and instituting & upholding the violent Lon Nol regime. You are in the imperial core in 2023, you are not in Angkor Wat in 1970
not my main point, which is just that revolutions (at least in the classic sense of storming-the-barricades or even just extraconstitutional shenanigans) are chaotic situations with unpredictable outcomes. you can get lots of positive changes. you can get lets of shitty ones. they're great for authoritarians and fascists in equal measure to sainted socialists or w/e. they do not solve the problem of having to do politics, but the rhetoric around the One True Revolution acts like it's the end of a long process, and not the beginning of a new, much more dangerous one.
if by "revolution" you just mean "major set of reforms carried out by winning control of existing political structures," sure, that's a lot less risky. but this would involve engaging with those wicked corrupt and nasty institutions of liberal democracy people are always so scornful of.
liberal democracy has pathways for lasting change [Citation Needed]
since the middle of the 19th century the US and Britain have seen massive improvements in income distributions, the creation of and the expansion of the welfare state, universal male suffrage, women getting the right to vote, (in the US) black people getting the right to vote, gay people going from criminals to a minority with rights protected under the law (including gay marriage), plus a laundry list of smaller but still important and lasting democratic, economic, and social reforms. yes, progress is not monotonic. no, no party is credibly threatening to (say) reimpose legal segregation in the US, or strip women of the right to vote anywhere in Europe. "nothing ever gets better" is an absolutely deranged take, especially when a lot of the reason things have gotten better is leftists willing to fight for improvements even if they fell short of total communist revolution.
You're aware of the world historic wave of reaction going across the western world like, right now right
Obviously! And I love the idea that a communist society would be magically free of prejudice or reactionaries leveraging it for power. Because it wouldn't be! And socialist countries generally have a human rights record that reflects similar issues!
(here I said even this language of "imperial core" involves assumptions which are silly and which i'm not willing to grant. marxists use the word "empire" in a way which is not actually very useful and has little explanatory power)
"within the geographic distribution of the highest value added surplus" very obvious explanatory power when the question is one of control over global labor capacity
i don't know if you're being deliberately disingenuous or what but the marxist use of the term "imperialism" is in fact much more sophisticated than that
and i think it's wrong in important ways, especially in the postcolonial period. the usage originated when colonial empires in the literal sense were very important; now, not so much. while there are important postcolonial dynamics of exploitation worth talking about, i do not think the framework of imperialism as articulated in the 19th century is anywhere close to sufficient, and it should be abandoned.
also don't wanna get bogged down in the weeds, just pointing out that one of the really irritating things about arguing with communists is you use words in annoying ways that inhibit rather than facilitate analysis.
And these are things that, for example, the AfD aren't trying to roll back?
you know you can look up the AfD's party platform online? like it's full of stupid, awful, xenophobic shit, and they are rightly reviled, but "return to the constitution and political structures of the German Empire" is not in there. i think the fact that even the biggest party of right-wing reactionaries can't imagine rolling back the clock more than a few decades is noteworthy--there are political gains over the history of modern leftism which are now so universally respected literally no one remembers we had a fight about them once.
like, obviously things have gotten better for the vast majority of people in germany, britain, or the US since the 1870s, and i don't know what we accomplish by pretending otherwise? except maybe creating some kind of martyr complex where we pretend leftism (and the labor movement in particular) is much less effective than it actually is.
i am going to mute replies to this and my other posts in this series, because on this particular morning i would rather have a root canal than argue about the word "imperalism," and i suspect this is the kind of argument that could go on literally forever. i do not think we are likely to persuade one another, but i have laid out why i find the contemporary marxist perspective on these things deeply unpersuasive (to the extent i can without rehashing a bunch of old posts), so i feel like i have said my piece.
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chonkandbean · 2 years
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Chonk’s Bikini Experience. 
Since today marks the first day of fall, and the summer has now officially come to a close, I thought I would share a story about “My Summer Vacation” that I am sure all of you will appreciate. 
Every year my whole family gets together for a beach vacation. My sister and nieces make a 12 hour journey for this occasion, so they stay with my parents for a few weeks surrounding our week at the beach. In the week leading up to our trip to the beach, my mom noticed that my 11 year old niece was planning on wearing a very modest two piece bathing suit that she picked out herself and really liked wearing. Then later that evening I overheard my mom telling my sister that they needed to go and get my niece another bathing suit before going to the beach. 
So at that moment I spoke up and said “Why do you need to get her another bathing suit?” … 
There was a long pause and finally my mom said “Well you know, she’s a little too heavy to be wearing a two piece”. I think literal smoke started coming out of my ears. First of all, my niece is NOT FAT. She isn’t thin, but she is nowhere in the range of fat. She doesn’t have a belly or extra chub anywhere. Solid is how I would describe her. (Exactly how I was when I was her age)
Of course I gave my mom a piece of my mind. I told her that it was unfair for her to project her own insecurities onto my niece and that it was extremely damaging to a young girl's self esteem. 
But it didn’t make any difference because the next day they went and got my niece a more “modest” one piece bathing suit. My sister just went along with it all, agreeing with my mom. 
It was then that I realized what I needed to do. I was going to wear a bikini on our beach vacation! 
That night, Bean and I went to Target and I picked out the bikini you see me wearing in the photos attached to this post. 
Then the day came when we were all headed down to the beach. It was beautiful outside and the beach was very crowded. I started to get a bit nervous. I had never done anything like this before. I wasn’t even sure how I worked up the courage to do it in the first place, but I knew it had to be done. 
Then everyone started getting ready to go down to the water and that’s when it happened, I took off my coverup and exposed the gut in all its glory! 
Everyone noticed, yet no one said a word. I could tell it was making everyone uncomfortable,  everyone except one person, my 11 year old niece. She later pulled me aside and said to me privately “I really like your bathing suit! It is so cute and I like the colors!” 
Just writing this makes me want to cry because I knew in that moment that it was all worth it. 
It was a moment I will never forget, and I don’t think she will either. 
In conclusion, I just want to say thank you to all those who support what we do. It has given me so much confidence to be myself and I don’t know if I would have had the courage to do it without you. I also want to thank Bean for holding my hand proudly on the beach while I sported my teeny bikini. It made it a lot easier for me to go through with it, having you by my side. 
Hope you liked my story! 
Love, 
Chonk 
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ao3commentoftheday · 4 months
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Long time follower, first time asker. :D
(Thank you for everything you've done on this blog over the years. So excited to see you're back!)
In the last month I've become interested in a new fandom and trying to very slowly dip my toes in. For some years, I barely read any fic in my old one (or at all), mainly focusing on writing, but, maybe because I've taken a longer break from writing/posting consistently this year, I'm now more interested in reading fic again than I have been in such a long time. I'm very new in this space, so I've only clicked on a couple of stories until now, but one of them kind of gave me the writing bug. It's a one-shot, and the author ended the story right as the main pairing gets together, as it were, so there's So Much that is left to the imagination. This author has a blanket permission statement on AO3 re: any type of transformative work based on theirs, but my brain is already coming up with this huge sequel I'd like to write.
I don't know why, but I feel like I should be asking them for permission anyway, even though I've been in this position myself and I've had nothing but warm and positive (and flattering, honestly) feelings about the folks who have written sequels based on my stuff without asking first. I fully believe that permission isn't required. Furthermore, they haven't expressed anywhere that I could find that they intend to write more of this plot. On the other hand, I also would find asking weird, because 1. there is a blanket statement and 2. my enthusiasm might fizzle out and no story might come of it on my end, given that I've barely been writing in the latter half of this year.
I am… possibly overthinking this. Any advice? I'm telling myself it's just nerves, because I haven't been active in fandom for ages and this is all so new, but I just don't know.
If the author has stated their wishes, then I'd personally go with that. Do they have any specifications in their statement? Some authors say things like, "Yes, but please let me know!" or "Yes, but please do/don't use the inspired-by link" etc. If so, make sure you follow those instructions.
Their permission seems to be granted already, and you do seem to be overthinking this, so I guess my question back to you is: why do you think that is?
Are you nervous about writing again? Worried about your reception from a new fandom? Feeling intimidated by the talent of the author whose work so inspired you? Do you just want to make a good impression on a group of people you haven't hung around with much before?
Of course, you don't actually need to think about any of those questions if you don't want to, but it might be worth doing a bit of reflection so you can figure out if this is just a one-time bout of uncertainty or whether there's something else going on.
What do the rest of you think?
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agoofyannoyancetolaw · 4 months
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appreciation post!
I simply wanted to thank all of you, followers and mutuals- I really didn’t expect my writing to go anywhere on an website like this with thousands upon thousands of posts. It means so much to me to see every like and follow and post or @, and I am so glad I’ll have this new year to post and grow even more!
So I’ll take up this post thanking people!!
★@rodolfoparras
even when I was an anon you were so polite and kind to me! I’m always so inspired by your writing and I’m genuinely sure that you were one of the few reasons I didn’t quit tumblr months ago
★@lieutnt
you were one of the first people I followed on my sfw account and I’ve always been so impressed by your writing and all your ideas! And from that point I managed to to find your mutuals accounts and get the urge to write!
★@gazmialmagemela
your genuinely so sweet 😭, you always reblog my posts and are so fun to talk to (and also totally got me to cut my blonde hair into a Phillip graves haircut)
★@ccreekside
I think the lore and drama you create! Sure it takes up my feed- but is it worth it to smile a ton while reading it? Yes!!! And on top of that your writings always stunning
★@arthurmorgansballsack
I genuinely think your writing is so fun when it comes up on my page 😔, I don’t interact much but it’s always a nice surprise to find your account when scrolling
★@adrawinggnome
your writing is SO TALENTED RAAHHH. You always have the best ideas and do so well with ideas anons send to you! Your dragon reader and dragon price made me so happy!!!
★@fortheb0ys / @fortheb0ys2
I genuinely love your writing and when you interact! Also I remember stumbling across your blog and finding your graves theme so funny :)
★@softggh0ul & @s1nfultrash
both of you SCARE ME /pos. It’s odd to see such cool writers and people following me! It’s always so much validation to see ‘——reblogged’ or ‘——- liked’
★@miguel-owhora
I remember when your account disappeared I was SO SCARED! Your writings always been so much inspo for me and I think your theme and just overall personality is so funny! :D
★@bonesnmore
just like you, I’m scared of interacting with my Moots :((, I’ve always found your writing and your silly little green creature so cute and you seem so cool genuinely
★@colt-redfield
we haven’t really interacted because I didn’t follow you till recently, but you seem really talented and I can’t wait to interact with you more!
★@planetrhythm
I’m so sorry I didn’t follow you till now!! I’ve seen your posts and you seem super cool and I simply always forgot to go to your account to follow correctly 😭
★@transi1vanianhunger
I am genuinely so sorry I forgot to do yours! I adore your interesting writing and the music you link and your humor 🫶, I am so sorry that I didn’t remember to add someone as talented as you to this post when I was making it!
★And to all my anons, emoji or not, and followers- the times I see your asks brighten my days so much and I couldn’t get the traction I do without you!!! And to anyone I might have missed, know I am in fact writing this while very very sleepy and eepy :(
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