#it will only provide more evidence of being a little shit

[lacedinweb22]

୨୧ Pudge & Cuddles ୨୧ ˚⋆✦ Miguel O’Hara x you Boyfriend Headcanons ˚⋆✦

nsfw 18+

cw: scratching, masochism, scars, body image/descriptions (stretch marks, cellulite, etc.), biting, sex (p in v), pain kink

note: Shit gets a little crazy so don’t act like I didn’t fucking warn ur asses 🤝 I’m planning on making one-shots for these because AWWJJDJE so that’ll be cumming SOON. love u my fellow pudgy simps

♡ Miguel is addicted to squeezing and holding your pudge!!! You lay on your side, Miguel spooning you. The laptop set in front of you plays a horror movie, which Miguel promised he’d stay awake through. He’s an exhausted, bratty liar so naturally he falls asleep halfway through. His arms wrap around you, one hand under your shirt, holding your pudgy, soft under belly for comfort, his hands full of your hot flesh. His grip keeps your body tightly pressed up against him. His face rests in the crook of your neck, breathing softly into your skin. He dreams, his muscles flexing, moving against you suddenly.

♡ Miguel’s nightmares cause his grasp to tighten on your pudge, claws unsheathing into your skin. You usually wake him up, but you’re a masochist, so sometimes you let him, leaving scratches around your hips and lower belly. It feels good and you love seeing evidence of him spread on you. He’ll scold you the next day when he sees them, but he secretly loves marking your soft skin as his.

♡ Miguel uses your thighs and tummy as a pillow. He loves digging his face into your belly, or thighs, anywhere where there is warmth and soft tissue. You’ll sit on the couch reading, or watching a movie, and he’ll make himself more than comfortable on you, losing himself in absolute bliss. Sometimes he’ll just lay in between your legs resting his head on your fluffy thighs, watching a movie on the tv. Other times, he’ll completely dig his face into your warmth, snoring into your soft skin. He wraps his arms around your hips, keeping himself wrapped around you, using you as his own special pillow.

♡ Miguel comforts/whines when you’re insecure. If you don’t let him dig his face into your flesh, he’ll throw a fit. He’ll kiss all along your cellulite, your stretch marks, your pudgy softness, whispering his admiration for you, “Eres tan hermosa, tan perfecta, mi suave ángel. What would I do without my soft girl keeping me warm, keeping me safe,” he’ll murmur against your skin, brushing his lips against you.

♡ Miguel will fixate on your thick thighs. He’ll adore and caress you for hours, lying in between your legs, or beside your thighs, tracing your stretch marks, leaving kisses along your scars of growth, gripping your fat in his muscular hands. He loves when the heavy hot flesh of your thighs wrap around his waist, and how your big thighs suffocate him when you sit on his face. He’ll lift you up effortlessly once you’re done, your soft figure being only craveable, comfortable pressure. He’s huge, strong, and he craves all of you, all of your weight, enveloping him, wrapping around him.

♡ He loves the way your abundant thighs and hips gate your heat, sealing your delicate flesh. He loves prying you open, your strong thighs closing habitually from pleasurable overstimulation.

♡ He marks up your thighs, biting the shit out of you, or digging his claws into you when he’s overstimulated. You have to avoid skirts for the next week or so now that your thighs are covered in bites, scratches, and bruises.

♡ He’ll reach for your skin at night, or when you’re watching tv on the couch, or when you’re cooking in the kitchen. He’ll come from behind you, slipping his hands under your top to fill his hands with the warm comfort your body provides. In public, he’s forced to control himself, not grabbing your ass or belly, or thighs, but when you two are left alone or in a dark restaurant, he’ll slip his hand under the tablecloth and grip your skin. He needs your body in his hands.

♡ Miguel presses his broad hand on your lower belly, feeling his length squeeze into you, pushing all of your insides tightly against your skin. He adds that pressure, squeezing your plush flesh, gripping you down onto him. He watches you squirm, your skin plump, body full with his wide burning, pleasurable invasion. When he reaches his climax, his claws unsheathe, digging into your stomach, leaving marks of desire spread across your belly.

♡ Miguel will tightly grip your under belly while on top of you, getting off looking down at the love bites he’s spread across your wet, sweaty skin. Your flesh beats against his, ripples of his impact visible to him. His thumbs dig into you, holding you in place, as he squeezes himself into you.

my lovely taglist ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა ✧ @wingedturtledream @skaochii @bat-yo-us @lostpirate79 @renn-pumkin-head @princessa-micomicona @waiif-uwu @punpuun @thbidkbutok @acehyacinth @thetoetickler @kaqua @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @inafantasyworld10 @d1lf-loverrr @altheadq @thesilenthill @trash-king18 @imnotyourbcbe @tiffanypooh @ihateuguys @littlemissilovecoconuts @royal-jester @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main @tbh2idk @gilliantate23 @envyjmoney @qiaipia @ur-fav-ginger @lacook246 @eddiestitmiguelsbigdick @blair6th

#atsv headcanons #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel headcanons #miguel o'hara smut #spiderman2099 #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara atsv #miguel o hara #miguel x reader #spiderman x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara imagine #miguel o’hara headcanon

[gardenofnoah]

the friend that you are

tags: MDNI, smut (DP), afab gn reader (they/them pronouns), kiri x baku x reader, the beginning of a triad probably, eijiro is a grimy little opportunist and we love him for it, dubcon (reader is hit with a sex quirk), there is absolutely no plot here and this now feels like a crack fic to me but no level of cringe will stop me

wc: 2.2k

Eijiro can't think of a time he's ever driven so fast in his life.

but when Bakugou—pro hero Dynamight—texts him "SOS" without any further context, it feels warranted. he can't pull into the driveway fast enough, fighting with the seatbelt for only a second before he's up the walk and through the door—already hardening his skin in anticipation of a threat he's sure exists. he hears a whimper that sounds an awful lot like you, and that has him nearly kicking his best friend's bedroom door down—

"oh," he says, blinking dumbly at the scene before him.

you, nearly folded in half and naked as the day you were born at the end of the bed, split wide open on Katsuki's cock, in tears and babbling with almost no coherency. Katsuki, flushed red from head to toe, who hasn't even looked up to see that there's an intruder in his bedroom. Eijiro takes a step back, already stuttering out a flustered and half conscious apology like he wasn’t just called here—

"wait, Ei—" Katsuki rasps, and it freezes Eijiro in place because he sounds panicked in a way he doesn't recognize, "they got hit with a fuckin' quirk—"

the thrust of his hips punctuates every staggered phrase out of his mouth. "been at this for hours. s'just getting worse—"

Eijiro knows immediately what's being asked of him and can't find it in himself to say a word. the pauses stretches on between them.

“c’mon, Red,” Katsuki is all but begging now, and Eijiro can almost see the way that each second that passes has his friend's heart skipping painfully in his chest. “you have to—just, do something—“

Eijiro feels his own heart drop at the way Katsuki is so visibly in distress—face contorted both in pleasure and genuine fear. his gaze falls to you—flushed with fever, writhing and sweating through the blankets Katsuki had evidently tried to swaddle you in. he doubts you’re even lucid at this point—your stuttered pleas even less coherent than they were only a minute ago. every roll of Katsuki’s hips has you gasping—gulping for air and twisting your body in search of more. against his own morality, Eijiro feels his cock stir in his jeans.

“did you—have they—” he starts hesitantly, unsure how to ask. unsure how to proceed.

“came fuckin’—a lot,” Katsuki grits his teeth, trying to keep his grip on you—trying to keep you still in your search for some pleasure he can’t provide—not on his own. “don’t know what fuckin’ shit quirk this is but i can’t—”

he’s cut off mid sentence by the force of your next orgasm—Eijiro watches the breath get knocked out of him and it looks painful. Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight, his whole body rigid as you try to take more than he can give. he doesn’t stop the movement of his hips—doesn’t dare do anything else but bully his way into your slick, swollen heat, but it’s clear that he’s exhausted.

Eijiro sighs, running a hand over his face. it's not as if he's never thought of this—it's not as if he's never fucked his fist to the thought of his best friend fucking you in the private shame of his own room—but this is uncharted territory between the three of you. he decides that that conversation can be had another time—after he’s sure you’ll be alright. after all, it would be antithetical of everything he’s sworn himself to be for him to turn away from you right now.

“alright,” he breathes, reaching for his belt. he rids himself of his pants with urgency, shamefully hard in his briefs. “you’ll have to move. you alright to get underneath?”

Katsuki pulls out of you with a broken, exhausted groan that goes straight to Eijiro’s cock—he tries not to think about it. he sees the blond nod in his peripheral, and watches as he leans over your limp body.

“baby,” he rasps softly, pressing a kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead, “Red’s gonna help me make it better, alright? just a little more for me?”

you whine underneath Katsuki, arching into his affection, and Eijiro has the thought that he ought to look away from such intimacy, but he doesn't. you're rolled you to your side so the blond can slide in next to you, and then he pulls you up until you’re draped across his chest. Katsuki’s feet stay planted on the floor and with the way that you’re spread open over his thighs, Eijiro can see everything. he feels downright grimy for the way he cannot look away from the slick that drools from your abused little hole and disappears down the curve of your ass, nor from the way Katsuki’s cock still shines with it—rock hard and nearly purple with the strain of trying to keep his own orgasm at bay, cradled between your cheeks. he fights the urge to brush his thumb through the arousal that’s collected at the tip.

“how—do you want to—”

“just fuckin'—put it in,” Katsuki rasps, clearly resigned to the situation.

Eijiro blinks, unsure he’s heard his friend correctly—but there’s nothing but pure desperation on the smaller man’s face, and it clicks.

he’s really doing this.

he shoves his briefs down unceremoniously, exhaling sharp and harsh. he takes himself in hand, pumping once, and then twice—completely unnecessary, because he’s been ready to sink inside you since he walked in the door.

“i’m sorry about this, sweetheart,” he finds himself murmuring down to you, trying to at least be kind.

“p-please—” it’s a broken sob that leaves your lips as you arch back against Katsuki, “please—”

it’s all the redhead needs to line himself up and push forward, unable to stop the gasp that leaves him when you surround him in a vice grip that puts his fist to shame.

he splits you open carefully, or tries to, until one hard kick of your hips sucks him in to the hilt.

you wail, straining in Katsuki’s hold as you fight to get closer. he goes rigid with the effort it takes not to cum right then. you thrash beneath him, trying to fuck yourself on his cock—

“alright,” Katsuki grits, trying to adjust underneath you. Eijiro recognizes the version of Katsuki in front of him to be not unlike pro hero Dynamight—a little cold, focused as if it’s an emergency. he supposes this is also an emergency, and feels some guilt about it also maybe being the best day of his life. “stay there for a second. just let me—”

Eijiro watches his best friend spit into his hand and smear it over himself, and knows suddenly and with certainty that there is no coming back from this. Katsuki looks properly debauched, flushed from his cheeks down to his neck and covered in a sheen of sweat, as he takes himself in hand and lines up with your puckered entrance.

“don’t you have to get them—”

“no,” Katsuki cuts him off, sparing him a glance as he pushes into your body, “already—fuck—tried this today—”

Eijiro can’t say anything, then, because he feels everything—the squeeze of your slippery insides, and the curve of his best friend’s cock pressed snuggly against his own, separated only by that thin barrier.

“oh fuck,” he breathes, squeezing his eyes shut. he cracks one open to look at you and immediately wishes he hadn’t.

you’ve gone silent for the first time since he walked in, frozen in some picture of pleasure that he knows is exactly what you needed. your pretty mouth hung open, eyes rolled back into your head, suspended in time between the two of them—

Eijiro’s hips kick forward, seemingly of their own will, and you’re brought back to the present. you clamp down around him hard, and Katsuki must feel it too, because he lets out a strangled whimper that does well to possess Eijiro completely.

and he can’t stop, then—carving out a space for himself inside you, selfishly, he thinks—but he can’t bring himself to be gentle. the pace of his thrusts are brutal and evidently necessary, because for the first time you go pliant against Katsuki’s chest, content to take everything he’s giving you.

and he wants to give you everything.

he feels Katsuki’s cock slide against his—weakly, like he’s at least trying to keep up with Eijiro but can’t quite do it—and it unlocks something primal inside of him.

“you just needed stuffed full, huh?” he hears himself say, leaning down to bite at the soft give of your stomach, and under the curve of your breast. he has no idea if you can even hear him at this point, but he thinks you might, judging by the way you go rigid underneath him.

“shit, ei—” Katsuki gasps—if it’s a warning, he ignores it.

“just needed these sweet little holes plugged up,” he coos, pausing his taunting to fasten his lips around a nipple and suck, scraping it gently with sharpened teeth until he feels it pebble under his tongue.

you cry out, shaking like a leaf underneath his onslaught. he feels half out of his mind at the sound of your choked moans and the slick suction of you pulling him back in every time he pulls out.

“poor thing,” he murmurs, angling his hips until he feels the head of his cock hit where you need it the most, “you just needed both of us to make you feel good, huh?”

he looks down to watch himself disappear inside you, and sees Katsuki’s thick fingers reach over your hip to rub tight little circles into your achy clit. the contrast between his friend’s uncharacteristic gentleness and his own newfound brutality makes him dizzy.

he knows with certainty that it’s going to make you cum. knows that it'll be enough to break the hold the quirk has on you. you just need a little more.

“c’mon sweetheart,” he breathes, leaning down to nip at your jaw, “let’s make Kat cum, hm? he’s working so hard to help you.”

he feels out of his body and knows he is way out of line when he reaches down between your bodies to spread his fingers around where Katsuki still fucks your ass. he brushes his fingers over the base of the blonde’s cock and against his balls—tutting at how tight they are. Katsuki lets out a groan that sounds like it was torn from him against his will.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“he’s hurting for you baby,” Eijiro whispers into the curve of your throat as he picks up the pace of his own thrusts, “you gonna make him cum?”

it’s a chain reaction, then—he feels all the breath leave your body as every muscle locks up—freezing in time for one devastating moment before you’re pushed over the edge. howling like a wild animal and fluttering rapidly around both cocks stuffed deep inside you. it sends Katsuki hurtling toward his own release—Eijiro can’t help but be wholly overcome by the way his best friend’s face contorts with pleasure and unbridled relief—

his own orgasm surprises him and he lets go inside your body, feeling you wring him dry. he fights the grip of your silken walls to fuck every drop of it deep inside you, hooked on some possessive instinct his brain has latched onto. his hips stutter with the effort and the breath that leaves him is ragged and spent, hot against your rapidly cooling body.

you jolt underneath him with little aftershocks as his hips roll forward gently, and he tells himself it’s for the sake of making sure the quirk has well and truly worn off. he feels Katsuki soften inside your body and he feels stuck—unable to pull himself from the feeling of both of you wrapped around him and against him—so he lets out a breath that sounds more fatigued than he feels. hopes it covers the way he wants to keep taking.

“let me out, Red,” Katsuki says weakly, and it snaps him out of it—at least a little bit. Eijiro chuckles, sliding out of you gently and moving back some so the blond can roll you back to your side. for one fleeting moment, Eijiro catches sight of the cum leaking out of both of your puffy little holes, and fights the urge to clean you up with his tongue.

Katsuki tucks you in with the cleanest blankets he can find and lays flat on his back next to you, an arm slung over his face as his breathing returns to normal. Eijiro watches and feels removed—like a voyeur seeing something he shouldn’t.

“the fuck are you standin’ there for?”

eijiro jumps, eyes snapping to katsuki, who is still not looking at him.

“i—uh. do you want me to—”

“just lay down, Ei,” Katsuki sighs, letting his arm drop from his face to reach over and hit the empty space on the other side of you. “we’ll fuckin’…talk about it later.”

Eijiro nods, exhaling shakily as he makes it to the side of the bed in record time, climbing in beside you gingerly. Katsuki doesn’t move his arm—just clasps a warm, calloused hand around Eijiro’s shoulder and it feels like a silent , affectionate affirmation he didn’t know he needed.

“thanks. for helping,” Katsuki whispers gruffly, eyes still closed. Eijiro hums, relaxing under his hold. your breath puffing slow and sweet in his ear.

“yeah. of course.”

#don’t. don’t #kiribaku x reader #kiribaku x y/n #kirishima x reader #bakugou x reader #kiribaku x reader smut #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #mha smut #fic: the friend that you are #bea writes ♡ #shh ☾

[urdepressedslut]

You’re Mine, Sunshine ❝part two❞

♡ Pairing: Grumpy!Bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Bucky takes you home, and later finds you in the library. You both get to know each other better, but Bucky is hesitant.

♡ Warnings: daddy issues, angst, mentions of parent death, fluff, bucky being a grumpy boi

Trope ⇢ Grumpy x Sunshine | Mob!Au Bodyguard!Au

Part 3

Italics are flashbacks

Your nails bit into your palm, crescent shapes left on your skin in attempt to hold your emotions back. The stare of your Father only made you feel small, the disappointment evident in his eyes.

“You know why this has to happen, right?” He asked you, annoyance laced in his tone.

You scoffed, trying to focus on the pain from your palms instead of the whirling emotions that threatened to escape.

“Father, you don’t have to lie to me. I’m a big girl.” You answered with some bite.

You were sick and tired of this sudden shift from him, he had changed after your Mothers passing. You understood completely, the death hitting him hard. But it wasn’t an excuse for him to be treating you like this, you lost your Mother too. Instead of both of you leaning on each other, he shut you out almost completely— leaving you to attempt to heal on your own.

He was acting as if buying you a house would fill the hole in your heart— acting like he was doing this for you. In reality, he just wanted nothing to do with you.

You didn’t need a house, you needed him.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, exhaling loudly.

“Don’t make this more difficult than it needs to be. You know why.” He repeated, refusing to meet your now glossy eyes.

“I don’t want to live in a house all by myself! I want to stay with you!” You shouted, scared of being alone— in need of your Fathers comfort.

Your Father had called you in to talk with you about your new living conditions. To which, you were upset about the idea of living alone— away from your only family.

“You’re old enough to live on your own. I’ll provide you with everything you nee—”

“I don’t give a shit about any of that! I need you! I can’t do this alone!” You cried finally, the tears finally making their way down your cheeks.

“Don’t you dare use that language with me! You’re going to do as I say and shut your mouth, understand?” He boomed, and you flinched back from the loudness of his voice.

Your cries died down, only small hiccups here and there. You couldn’t help feeling your heart twinge in pain, his want to get rid of you hurting you deeply. You needed your Father more than ever— and he just didn’t care. You stared mindlessly at the floor, the familiar numbness starting to form in your fingertips, the tightness in your chest growing more intense.

He was willing to provide you everything you needed, except for the one thing you needed the most. His love.

You felt unwanted. You felt like a burden to him.

“Do I make myself clear?” He repeated, his voice sharp and angered.

You swallowed through your tight throat, knowing you wouldn’t be able to word any verbal response. You chose to nod weakly instead, keeping your eyes trained to the ground.

Pierce sighed in frustration, sitting back in his chair. He was stressed about your reactions to his plans, and decided that this conversation was over for now.

“That will be all, you can go.” He dismissed you.

You wanted to laugh in embarrassment, he didn’t even talk you like you were his daughter. He spoke to you like he did with his workers— like you were nothing.

Right now, that’s what you felt like. Nothing.

~

The car’s engine shutting off had woken you up, the drivers door shutting having you perk up in your seat. You straightened yourself in your seat, wiping the little bit of drool off your chin. You didn’t even realize you had dozed off.

You watched from the inside as Bucky moved swiftly to your door, opening it for you.

You swung your legs over the edge, hopping out of the car. You gave Bucky a smile, nodding in appreciation.

“Thank you.” You spoke to him, making your way up the concrete stairs to your house.

He only grunted in response, closing the door— and scanning the area. After the area seemed clear, he followed you up the stairs. The exterior of the house was quite impressive. He was aware that your Father had bought you the house— seeing as he was one of the richest men alive. But he wasn’t expecting the house the be so… you.

Again, he barely knew you. But your light presence seemed to match with this house very well.

He watched over your shoulder as you fiddled with your keys, finally unlocking the door and walking in— to which he followed close behind.

He quickly shut the door, turning and taking in the new environment. Your house.

It was a beautiful home inside as well as the outside, the walls intricate in their carved designs. The floors polished— free of any smudges. The only thing he found a little off, was the fact that there was minimal furniture.

Yes, there was a couch and some side tables here and there, but other than that— it was quite bare.

“I assume you’re going to be staying here?” You guessed, your assumption confirmed when Bucky nodded his head. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Will be delivered eventually.” He answered quickly.

You nodded in understanding, keeping the warm smile on your face.

“Well, help yourself to anything in the house. Its yours now— as well as mine.” You told him so kindly.

Bucky nodded in appreciation, but otherwise didn’t try and make any more conversation.

“Pick any room you’d like. Mine is the farthest room down the right hallway.” You informed him, pointing up the staircase.

He nodded again, staying silent.

It was going to be different having someone lurk around you at all times. But Bucky was so silent sometimes, you wondered if he was even there in the first place.

You took a deep breath, deciding to head into the library. Reading had always been the one thing that could calm you down, let yourself escape from reality for a little while. Your personal library within the house, was one of the things you were most proud of. It was grand and had so many selection of books to choose from. You smiled to yourself just thinking about it.

“I’m going to my library, please make yourself at home.” You told him.

“Very well ma’am.”

“You don’t have to do that, (Y/n)‘s just fine.” You corrected him politely.

“Okay (Y/n).” He tested out, watching your smile grow wider at the sound of your name rolling off his lips.

Giving him one last warm smile, you turned and headed to your library.

Bucky watched as you walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Which was never a good thing. He still didn’t know what to think of you. You just seemed too… chipper. There was a catch— there had to be. He didn’t know when he’d see the true you, but he was prepared for when the moment came.

So far, you were polite and overly kind. It just didn’t make sense— your Father had described so differently. Made Bucky wonder why?

Bucky had walked around the house, curious as to what the rest of the house looked like— along with picking his room out. He decided to pick one in the same hallway as yours, he assumed it was the most practical option— in case of emergencies.

After choosing his room, he made himself comfortable on the couch downstairs. He oddly enjoyed the silence, the only sound being his breathing.

The house was so quiet— too quiet. He furrowed his brows, deciding he should check up on you.

Making his way towards the library, he was amazed as he walked through the doorway— taking in the walls of books. He was quite the book worm himself, just never showing it off. He couldn’t argue with himself that he was obsessed with this room.

He found you quickly, letting out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. You were curled up on a loveseat, nose buried into a book. You were so lost amongst the words— you hadn’t realized Bucky standing there.

He cleared his throat, making you jump— holding a hand to your chest in fright. He definitely enjoyed spooking you a little too much, as he fought down the urge to chuckle.

“Oh my god— Bucky! You scared me!” You breathed out, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry (Y/n), was just checking on you.” He informed you, turning to head out of the library.

But before he could make it too far, you called out for him.

“Wait! Bucky!” You shouted, making Bucky turn back around to face you, eyebrows up— waiting to see what you wanted. “Sit with me?”

He squinted his eyes, about to remind you that he was working a job. But your soft, desperate voice struck a chord within him.

“Please?” You pleaded, your smile dropping just slightly. Enough for Bucky to notice.

He’d let it pass this time, but he was going to hold himself accountable. He would not slack off, he would not fail at this job.

With a huff he nodded, sitting on the couch across from the loveseat. You were smiling widely now, shimming in excitement in your seat.

“Um… I thought it would be a good idea to get to know each other better.” You suggested with a hopeful smile.

“No.” Bucky shot back.

You flinched slightly back, not expecting that harsh of an answer. Your smile faltered little. You were starting to see your Father in Bucky— with the mood swings and all.

“Why not?” You asked him.

He squinted his eyes at you— something he seemed to do a lot towards you. He was trying to think of a reasonable excuse, but his mind came up empty. He just simply didn’t want to get to know you. He wanted things to stay professional— keeping his distance. For his sake.

“No.” He repeated.

You rolled your eyes with a light chuckle, a sound that had Bucky’s chest all warm.

“We are going to spending a lot of time together, it’s only fair that we trust each other— and I can’t trust you if I don’t know anything about you.” You explained, making a good point.

Bucky clenched his jaw, knowing you were right.

“Fine.” He gave in, leaning his arms on the back of the couch.

You smiled to yourself, pleased that you had convinced him— yet again.

“What’s your favorite color?” You asked him, causing him to scoff.

He tilted his head in amusement. He thought it was a silly thing to know about someone, but he also was stalling because he didn’t have one. He wondered for a moment what was wrong with him, everyone had a favorite color. Even if not a favorite— there was always a color people were drawn to. But not him.

He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on a book cover with a withering tree, the background lavender.

“Purple.” He revealed finally, hoping you wouldn’t notice his lie. Was it a lie? Purple could be his favorite.

You smiled, setting your book down to the table next to you.

“Like a dark purple or a pastel purple— a lighter purple?” You pried, fully serious.

Bucky felt the corners of his mouth twitch, and he had to fight the smile down. He couldn’t help it, seeing your serious face. Interrogating him about a color. It was cute.

“Does it matter?” He asked genuinely, and he watched your mouth open in an O shape. Your eyes staring at him like he just said the most ridiculous thing.

“Does it matt— Bucky. Of course it matters, a person’s favorite color says a lot about them. About what type of person they are. About their secrets.” You whispered the last part.

Bucky squinted his eyes again, this time defensively. Your words were playful, but he couldn’t help but feel self conscious. Your stare all of a sudden felt like you could see right through him.

“Really?” He asked seriously, and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you.

He genuinely looked freaked out for a second there, and you couldn’t contain the laughter. Bucky on the other hand, didn’t find amusement in the situation. He was slightly embarrassed that you were laughing at him, but kept his features neutral.

“No, I’m just messing with ya!” You told him, breathless from laughing. “Seriously, what kind of purple?”

He rolled his eyes, genuinely annoyed. But he couldn’t help but feel so carefree around you, he felt lighter. It almost felt like he wasn’t working a job, and just letting go.

“Light purple.” He told you, watching you nod. “What about yours?”

He dared to ask, knowing you’d probably go on a full tangent about your favorite color and why it was your favorite.

You thought for a moment, looking up to the ceiling in thought.

“Red.” You answered quickly.

Bucky waited for a moment, waiting for you to begin rambling— but you never did.

“Light… dark?” He mirrored, just as you had asked him. But he found himself genuinely curious.

You shook your head, fiddling with your fingers.

“Just red.” You said blankly, readjusting your legs so they were crisscrossed.

Your words from earlier rung through his head, and he knew you were obviously joking— but he did feel that someone’s favorite color said a lot about them. He just didn’t know what yours, said about you.

“What made you wanna be a bodyguard?” You asked him, catching him off guard with the question.

He thought hard for a moment, seeing if he could even come up with an answer. He had done a lot of things throughout his life, each moment having meaning behind it. Each path having a story of why he ended up there. But being a bodyguard? Sure, he had experience but— it wasn’t that easy of an answer.

“Your Father needed someone for the job.” He answered. “I have years of experience as well.”

His answer was quite pathetic, but you didn’t seem the type to judge. You simply nodded along, listening intently like he was saying the most interesting things.

“Well, I’m sure he was very happy that he found you.” You told him with that warm smile of yours.

“You have a nice home.” He pointed out, deciding to change the conversation.

You smiled, looking around your library in pride.

“Thank you. My Father gifted this place to me.” You told him.

“How nice of him.” Bucky thought out loud.

You let your eyes drop to the floor, trying your hardest to keep the smile from dropping. You wished more than anything that you could associate good memories with your Father. All the good memories you had left, were beginning to vanish.

“Yes, he’s a wonderful Father.” You expressed, hating that no matter what went on— you’d always love him.

Bucky listened to you answer him, while he also watched as your face would drop at the mention of him. It was a flash of happiness that looked trapped within this dull expression that would take over your features. You spoke about him like he was only a dream, something of your imagination.

He wanted to pry— but he knew he shouldn’t.

“It’s been uh… hard for him since my Mother passed.” You revealed solemnly, while attempting to keep your features light.

Bucky grew tense at your confession, his own wounds throbbing from the mere mention of your Mother. Despite his discomfort, he stayed silent.

“He tries to put on a good face but— I know he’s hurting. He’s a powerful man but, even he needs a break.” You explained, picking the skin around your nails.

Bucky noticed the way you’d talk about your Father, and your Mother’s passing. The way you were trying to act unbothered. Truthfully, you were good at hiding how you truly felt— but he could still read people well. He knew you were hurting deep down.

You weren’t sure why you felt secure around Bucky. He was a man of few words, and rather let his presence do the talking. He was a reserved guy from what you could tell, but along with that— he was also a good listener. You were also lonely, deprived of human interaction. You didn’t care if he was being paid to be around you, you’d take advantage of the company. Even if it hurt that it wasn’t really real.

“Sorry— he’d probably kill me if he knew I told you that. He’s all about his image, being the tough guy and all. Just forget I said anything.” You rushed out, realizing what you were exposing.

“Don’t worry about it.” He assured you, knowing he’d never utter a word of anything you said.

“So, what about your family?” You shot at him, and Bucky felt attacked.

He squinted his eyes, glaring at you slightly. He knew you didn’t mean any harm with the question— but he couldn’t help the the way his mind filled with dark thoughts.

“No.” He huffed, watching you shrink back back into your seat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I—”

“I need to get back to work.” He lied, there was nothing for him that needed to be done.

You watched as he got up quickly and stomped away, a scowl etched on his face. You assumed his family was a sensitive topic, and you respected that. Although, you didn’t mean to upset him.

Bucky was mysterious and it made you want to bring him out of his shell, unlock the deepest parts of him. His presence lured you in, making you want to learn everything about him.

Bucky made his way out of the library, angry with himself. Your question was surprisingly not what had him upset, it was the fact that he started to feel comfortable enough to answer it.

There was something about you that had him slowly melting, the walls that he’d built starting to crumble in your presence. He wouldn’t allow that, he couldn’t.

☀️A/N: pls let me know if i forgot to put you on the taglist, and i’ll add you for the next one!

TAGLIST: @winters1917 @unaxv @sebastianstansqueen @casa-boiardi @sonatabee @nytzirhk @almosttoopizza @erinallene @daddy-dotcom @h0nestly-though @beautiful-loserr @gloriouspurpose01 @lesleurs @justherefortheficandsmut @floralwsloki @dottirose @madi-be-buggin @navs-bhat @happinessinthebeing @ximi1315 @buggy14 @dancer3205 @neeezza101 @rovckwells

#bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel cinematic universe #reader insert #sebastian stan #buckybarnes #bodyguard au #bucky barnes x you #protective bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fic #beefy bucky barnes #bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader #bodyguard bucky barnes #mob au #fluff #grumpy x sunshine #grumpy x sunshine trope #light angst #mini series #marvel fic

[babyboydaniel]

Knock, Knock (M) | Part 2

Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Reader | Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lando really needs to learn how to knock.

Smut, Fluff | Warnings: 18+, PinV, Fingering, Semi-Public, Oral (Female Receiving) | Word Count: 1.8K

“Lando, what the fuck?” you shrieked, yanking down your dress to cover yourself.

You would think that after walking in on something he should not have seen, he would have left, no. He was still standing in the cramped room with you, the door slightly ajar behind him. His pouty, pink mouth glistened from where his bottom lip had been tucked between his teeth. His breathing ragged, as if he was the one that was ruined. His eyes had not left yours since he walked in on you.

“Fucking close the door, would ya?” you asked, exasperated.

With a jump, Lando quickly turned to close the door, slamming it against the doorframe with a little too much force. The noise causes waves in the stifling room. Lando stood with his back to you, his muscles tight underneath his hoodie, and his hands in fists at his sides.

No longer being watched, you shifted on the couch as you attempted to pull up your underwear, but your actions brought his eyes back to you. Your hands stilled, debating whether to continue. Fuck it, you thought. He had already seen all of you, so with a snap, you arranged your underwear on your hips.  

A muffled groan passed through your lips as the material skimmed over your sensitive core. Lando whined in response.

“You should really work on learning how to fucking knock,” you seethed, standing up to face him.

Lando has not said anything at this point. His eyes were doing all the talking. The desire was evident in his now stormy blues.

Then he is walking over to you, crowding in your space. So close that his minty breath fanned over your heated skin, providing a bit of relief. Before you were able to react, Lando laced his fingers around your wrist, bringing the hand that had been buried deep in you and still covered in your essence up to his lips. His tongue reached out for a tentative lick, he moaned at the taste, and then he sucked each finger clean. Lando swirled his tongue around each one and released them with a soft pop. 

You stood there in shock, mouth agape. Your mind took too long to comprehend what was happening. Once you did, Lando already released your hand. A self-satisfied grin on his lips. You would be a liar if you said your pussy did not clench at that, making your underwear that much wetter.

You stepped back to put space between you two in the charged room. Trying to clear your head a bit, the scent of Lando’s cologne and your post-orgasm brain making it hard to think, not to mention the feeling of his tongue on your skin. It only made you want more. Shaking your head, you forced yourself to focus on Daniel. That it was him that you wanted and loved, not Lando. Lando was nothing to you, just some guy you barely knew. And you had to get him out of there before Daniel returned.

“Lando, you need to leave. Don’t say anything to Danny. Just forgot any of this happened, and we will call it even,” you offered.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Lando chuckled, “Though maybe I want to discuss with him how delicious his girlfriend tastes.”

You groaned in frustration. Lando was such a little shit.

“Yeah, let’s not do that,” you deadpanned.

“I mean, it might be the highlight of tomorrow’s debrief. So, everyone on the team knows how delectable you are,” Lando teased.

You rolled your eyes. Gosh, why did he insist on making this difficult?

“Alrighty then, time for you to go,” you stated as you walked over to the door, swinging it open so he would leave.

Lando finally gave in, crossing the room until he was at the doorway. He hesitated. Then Lando turned to you. With unbelievable boldness, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his body. You squealed as your hands came to rest on his chest, and you could feel his hardened member pressed to your abdomen. Dipping down until his lips brushed your ear, he whispered, “Next time I taste you, I want it to be directly from the source.”

You shivered.

Lando let go of you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open, as he turned to leave. With a wink thrown over his shoulder, he was gone.

Once alone again, you felt as though you could breathe. You were so fucked. This weekend was going to be absolute hell.

It was not before long that Daniel returned. His ever-present smile graced his lips. His warm eyes provide a sense of comfort. You had missed him. You ran into his arms the moment you saw it was him walking through the door. He hugged you back with the same enthusiasm, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did my baby miss me?” he joked.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. If you opened your mouth, you would be tempted to confess what happened, but it wasn’t the time or place. It could wait until you were back in the comfort of your hotel room. 

“You ready to get out of here?” Daniel asked, pulling back slightly to look at you.

“Yes, please,” you rushed out.

Daniel laughed, “That bad, huh?”

A shy smile pulled at your lips, “I just want to get you alone,” flattening your body flush against your boyfriend’s.

Daniel tangled his hand in your hair, guiding your face to his so he could capture his lips between yours. Daniel, not waiting for your permission to push his tongue between them, licked into your mouth. The kiss was filthy. Daniel, biting and sucking at your bottom lip before diving back in for more. 

You were panting, breathless. Daniel chuckled. His lips leave yours to find a place along your neck. At first, the kisses were as light as a feather, just enough to have you grinding against Daniel’s body. Encouraged by your behavior, Daniel began sucking and nipping at the skin there. Much to Daniel’s pleasure, you were full-on moaning and begging for more. If you let him, you were positive Daniel could make you come just like that. You tipped your head back, giving Daniel complete access to mark you up. You loved it when he left hickeys on you, making it clear to everyone that you were taken. That you were his. 

The hand that wasn’t tangled in your hair wandered down your body, skimming over the thin fabric of your dress until he reached the edge. Slipping underneath, Daniel’s fingers brushed over your covered slit, the material soaked with your juices. 

A strangled cry came from Daniel, “Fuck baby, you are so wet.”

As if he needed to verify, he dipped his hand into your underwear. Covering his fingers in you, he lightly rubbed your clit. You rocked your hips against his hand, wanting more. Then his fingers were gone. 

He pulled away from your neck and lifted his fingers to his mouth, tasting you. Fuck, you thought. You instantly thought of Lando’s earlier action.

“Mmm, delicious,” Daniel moaned, winking at you.

You whined.

“Let’s go,” you said impatiently.

Daniel nodded and pressed a kiss to your lips before moving to gather his things. You did the same, which only took a couple of minutes. With everything packed up, Daniel grabbed your hand as you walked from the room and down the hallway. 

You were hoping to avoid running into Lando on your way out, and you almost accomplished that. But, as you rounded the corner, you came face to face with him. 

“You leaving?” Lando questioned, his eyes lingering on you.

You shifted under the weight of his gaze. He was anything but subtle, and the audacity to do it in front of your boyfriend was cocky.

“Yep, we are out of here. I got to get the missus into bed,” Daniel joked, the statement having a double meaning that did not go unnoticed.

“Ah,” Lando replied, “Gotcha, well I will see you guys tomorrow.”

Daniel, being the affectionate guy he was, pulled Lando in for a hug, “See ya, mate.”

Once Daniel released him, Lando turned to you and shrugged before wrapping his arms around you. You were expecting a quick platonic hug since your boyfriend was standing next to you. But  Lando held you just a little too tight, and his one hand wandered too far down your back to be considered appropriate. As he leaned back, Lando whispered, “I can still taste you on my lips.”

The almost inaudible gasp that left your mouth made Lando chuckle as he returned to his spot in the hallway. With one last goodbye, Lando made his way to his driver’s room. You felt as though you could breathe a little easier with him gone.

The drive back to the hotel was mostly quiet. Daniel hummed along to whatever country song played on the radio while his hand rested on your thigh.

Once in the safety of your room, Daniel was on you. He pushed you onto the bed, which he kept his promise and made up for earlier. He was unrelenting as he forced you to come over and over again on his tongue before pressing your knees to your chest and fucked you hard and deep. Not stopping until your cum was leaking all over his dick, and you were crying from the pleasure.

After he was satisfied that you were satisfied, he rolled over to order you two room service. You ate in bed while only dressed in the shirt Daniel was wearing earlier. The moment you finished your food, Daniel was all over you again. Coaxing two more screaming orgasms from you and filling you with his cum. 

After some much-needed cuddling, everything in you wanted to roll over and fall asleep. But Daniel made you get up, use the bathroom, and do your nightly routine. Knowing that you would regret it if you didn’t. 

Daniel joined you in front of the mirror. His arms wrapped around your waist as you washed your face and applied your skin care, pressing soft kisses to the back of your neck.

Once done, you sleepily shuffled back to the bed and snuggled under the duvet. After completing his own routine, Daniel joined in the comfort, slipping in next to you, tugging you against his chest, and burying his face in your neck. Within in a couple of minutes, he was lightly snoring. 

As you closed your eyes, images of Lando appeared. His curly hair, his teeth-bitten lips, his beautiful eyes. The way he saw you fall apart and heard the noises you made. If Daniel did not spend the night fucking you silly, you might have been tempted to sneak off to the bathroom to get off. 

You needed to tell Daniel about what happened sooner rather than later. 

Part 1 | Part 3

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #lando norris #lando norris smut #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #fic rec #f1 imagine #f1 smut #danny ric #f1 fic

[vexwerewolf]

Felicitations, comrade! We had our session 0 for the IGF campaign im running, and one of my players wants to be a moonlighter pirate "infiltrating" Hell's Gate militia. He was initially thinking of being affiliated with the Hell Hounds, which for obvious reasons would present some challenges. Do you have any advice for making this happen, what with the very first mission putting him up against his true boss? I dont know that he'd have enough time to have truly built up camraderie with the rest of the SRT to truly make his character have conflicted loyalties.

I mean, he'd have to have been with the militia a while to build up enough trust to be seriously considered for the SRT.

But moreover, let me tell you what being a Hell Hound is like.

CW: psychological and physical abuse

So one thing I want to make it clear that the Hell Hounds are basically an incel cult without the weird gender-sexual overtones. I imagine there ARE women and enbies who join it but in essence Andros Capella is a creepy weirdo who preys on disaffected, primarily male youth with no prospects and indoctrinates them into his worldview of nihilistic violence.

Andros doesn't really have a philosophy, or at least not one that he could describe in words (and even if he could, he wouldn't), but it could be summed up as "the weak exist solely to create things for the strong to take." You are worthy of having things if you are strong enough to take them, but only so long as you're strong enough to keep them.

The closest political ideology I could ascribe to him would be "stateless fascism." Andros is certainly sadistic, devoid of empathy and believes himself to be supreme, but he's too intellectually lazy to bother engaging in justifying why he's supreme. He makes the most basic of naturalistic arguments (i.e. "this is just the way the world works") but feels it's beneath him to actually justify or provide evidence for his claims.

He hates the minutiae of day-to-day life, and derives no joy from anything that doesn't involve someone else's discomfort or pain. He will steal your food for the sheer thrill of having taken something that you wanted to eat, but he won't enjoy eating it because he despises the physical sensations of chewing and swallowing.

And if you are a Hell Hound who, god forbid, enjoys something, he will bully the shit out of you. He will verbally and physically abuse you until you learn to hate the thing you liked just to make the pain stop.

Lemme tell you what the average night on Fort Cerberus looks like when you're not on a raid: you and a couple hundred other sick fucks lurk around the corridors drinking and gambling but you sure as hell better not actually look like you're having fun because you're all desperately trying to avoid becoming the bossman's next chew toy.

Some poor fuck catches Andros' eye. You're not sure what for, but from the sounds of things he might've been counting his poker winnings too loud. He gets a hand on his shoulder from the big man, who tells him that he's being too selfish - gotta learn to share a bit more, yeah? Now, way Andros sees it, guy's got ten fingernails that he's keeping all to himself, so here's a set of pliers - redistribute.

You jeer along with the rest of the room, loud enough to drown out his screams, because you're so very, very relieved that it isn't you. But you fuck up. You look a little bit too enthusiastic, perhaps, or maybe it's the opposite, maybe you weren't forcing it enough. Either way, the bossman's eyes land on you and your blood turns to ice in your veins.

"You," he says. "C'mere."

The room is dead silent all of a sudden, quiet enough that the pitiful whimpering of the first guy, (currently on his second thumbnail) is the only sound you can hear. You walk over, as a prisoner does to the place of execution.

He takes your hands, inspecting your fingernails, and then your hands, then your arms. "No ink yet? You not pulling your weight? Am I payin' to feed a fuckin' leech?"

You say you're not a leech.

"Those pricks over at the Gate are gettin' too clever. Learning too quick. Gettin' the jump on us too many times. I want someone over there learnin' what they know. You 'avin' no ink makes you a good choice. They'd sniff out any of these boys in a second, they would, but not you. You look soft. Don't he look soft, boys?"

The room jeers at you just as you jeered at the first guy (he's on his ninth nail, now, and his throat is so hoarse he can't make sounds anymore). You try your best to remain composed.

"Normally soft'd be fuckin' worthless. But soft'll let you blend right in with the Gaters."

So, to avoid whatever horrific torture he's currently ideating, you agree. The next time they go out on a raid, they pick a ship full of people who don't know each other and slip you in with the passengers when nobody's looking. You don't go to Hell's Gate directly - you do a couple of hops through the Thousand Habs, just to throw off suspicion.

You sue for residency on the station as a refugee from a failed habitat. They give you your own cabin, and they make sure you're fed and clothed. You smirk to yourself - they really are as soft as Andros said they'd be; they have food and water and clothes and they're just giving them away!

You don't have all that many marketable skills, so after a few rotations scrubbing air filters, you apply to take the militia aptitude test. You try to play it down so they don't get suspicious, but if nothing else you're a damn good pilot, so you get fast-tracked. These fucking idiots just give you a mech! God, it's gonna be so easy to tear them apart from the inside.

They put you in a team. You train together, building up hours in the simulators. Then something weird happens. They... trust you? They want to... spend time with you, outside the simulators. They want to drink with you, play games with you, hear about your life. Well, is it more suspicious if you say no? You have to maintain your cover.

You don't always fit in well. Sometimes you crack jokes that are... a little unpleasant, a little off, a little worrying, and you learn to bite those down because it's bad for your cover. You also have this odd air about you, like you're constantly on guard, like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop (like somebody's gonna make you rip your fingernails out if you're too happy). People figure you must've gone through some trauma and are kind stupid enough not to pry.

You feed information about the militia back to Andros - carefully, so as not to blow your cover. Some members of your team get hurt - nobody dies, but they get hurt. You feel... bad. Why do you feel bad? They're soft, they're weak, they don't mean anything. They're not your real friends. You don't have any friends.

Months pass. Jerry says he wants to tap your team for a long-standing project he's working on. This is your chance. Sabotaging this will prove to Andros that you're strong, that you're not weak, that you're not a leech, that you can pull your weight.

Sure, a bunch of your team will have to die. The only people who've ever put their trust in you, the only people who've ever believed in you. But that's fine, right? They don't mean anything, they're not real people, right? They're idiots for trusting you, right? They deserve it, right?

Right?

... right?

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #in golden flame #cw: abuse #cw: injury #cw: indoctrination #cw: violence #cw: cults

[whumpshaped]

been spinning this idea around in the microwave that is my brain for a while now.

pet/slave/etc whumpee being rescued, seemingly improving and going along with what caretaker asks of them, and then immediately bolting and returning to their master the moment they get the chance.

they feel sorta bad for caretaker, but ultimately where they belong is at their master's side. whumpee's life was miserable and empty before they found them, but with master they were fed, had a warm place to sleep, and were shown more affection than they'd ever experienced before.

whumper, who in this specific scenario is more like a carewhumper/soft whumper, wanting to keep whumpee as their pet/slave but otherwise not being cruel to them, is of course elated to have whumpee back, lavishing them with praise and love and affection, further cementing in whumpee's mind that this is where they belong.

tw pet whump, conditioned whumpee, stockholm syndrome, caretaker new master, betrayal, abandonment

When Whumpee caught a glimpse of the article, it was like colour had suddenly returned into their world. Like the storm clouds had parted and finally allowed the sun to shine through, making all their worries and sadness dissipate.

All charges dropped.

Caretaker seemed to have the opposite reaction, throwing the newspaper across the room and groaning in frustration. Whumpee flinched, alerting them to their presence. “Oh, shit… Whumpee, I’m sorry. I didn’t– fuck, did you see the article?”

Whumpee suppressed their eagerness and slowly nodded, attempting to keep their expression neutral. Whatever Caretaker had interpreted it as, it made them open their arms for a hug.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. Would you like a hug? Or… or would you like to talk about it?”

Oh, they wanted to talk about it more than anything, but they doubted what they had to say would’ve been to Caretaker’s liking. They accepted the hug anyway, holding their temporary owner tight for what was probably the last time.

“You did your best,” Caretaker whispered. “I’m so sorry that… that they’re a bunch of incompetent idiots there! You gave all that evidence, all those testimonies… I don’t get it… I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s not talk about it?” Whumpee hoped that was a reasonable request. They hated hearing about all the ways in which they’d betrayed Whumper, but they hoped their reasoning wouldn’t be readily apparent.

“Of course. I’m sorry. I got carried away.” Caretaker took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, and Whumpee had the feeling this hug was more for their friend than it was for them. “You wanna do something tonight? As a little distraction? We could make those new cookies you found a recipe for. Or watch a movie.”

Whumpee pulled away so they could look Caretaker in the eye. “Would you mind if… if I went for a little walk?”

Caretaker hesitated. “Can it be another time?” they asked cautiously. “I don’t like putting restrictions on you, I really don’t, it’s just…”

“Okay,” they said without knowing what Caretaker was going to say. “Another time.”

They could seek out Whumper any time, right? The sooner the better, but they didn’t need Caretaker following them.

“I’m a little nervous about letting you out of my sight after news like this,” they finished anyway.

“Okay,” Whumpee repeated.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not.”

Caretaker smiled and pulled them in for another hug. “Alright. Thank you.”

-

It was two days later when Caretaker finally let them go. It was honestly a little heartbreaking to know they would never go back, but… It couldn’t even compare to that time the police had swarmed the building and took Whumper away from them.

Whumper had been their everything. Their best friend. Their owner. The only one who cared. The one who had always provided for them, food, shelter, love. It didn’t matter what others had told them — they had to get back. And now that Whumper was finally let go, they could.

They kept looking over their shoulder, hoping Caretaker really wasn’t following them. They weren’t. They were left to their own devices, and they were about to betray every morsel of trust Caretaker had placed in them.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of getting back to Whumper. Whumper was the only one whose trust counted for anything.

They rushed back to the house they’d used to stay in, and the ugly police tape was finally gone. It looked just like the first time they’d seen it: friendly and inviting.

Whumpee walked up to the door and knocked before their anxiety could’ve gotten the better of them. They stepped back and waited, rocking back and forth on their feet, shifting their weight from heels to tiptoes.

The garden seemed a little neglected, but it looked like Whumper had gotten to work since their release. There were fresh seeds in the bird feeder, and fresh water in the bowl they used for any stray creature that might’ve needed a sip. They were so caring. It was ridiculous that any investigation had even been conducted.

The door opened, and Whumpee’s eyes snapped up to meet their owner’s. They jumped into their arms without thinking, burying their face in the crook of their neck. “Master, you’re free!” they exclaimed, delighted when Whumper’s arms closed around their waist.

“I’m free!” Whumper parroted, just as giddy as their pet. “And you’re back!”

“Of course I am! I missed you so much!”

Whumper brought them inside without letting go, pushing the door shut with their foot. “I missed you too, sweet thing. I’m not quite packed yet, but now that you’re here, I’ll try to make it quick so we can leave tomorrow.”

Whumpee pulled away, frowning a little. “Leave?”

“Of course. They’d never leave us alone if we were to stay; not the police, and definitely not Caretaker.” Whumper moved their hands to cup their pet’s cheeks, smiling at them softly. “We’ll go somewhere peaceful, hm?”

Well… When they’d left the house and told themself it’d be forever, that they’d never see Caretaker again, that they were ready to leave all of this behind… They didn’t think it’d be so permanent. So irreversible.

They didn’t think they’d have to leave Caretaker so far behind.

Some of the cookies they’d baked the night before were still waiting for them at home, soft and sweet and tasting of friendship.

“I’d love that,” Whumpee said with a smile of their own. “We can go whenever you’re ready, Master.”

#asks #whump #whump drabble #pet whump #conditioned whumpee #stockholm syndrome #caretaker new master #betrayal #abandonment

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Would you mind talking more about Ghost? I dig your interpretation on him so i'm curious if you'd share your thoughts; since i know how COD in general writes these characters and we know romance isn't on the table for them, ESP for someone like Ghost (even confimred by his voice actor too!)

So all that aside, in your opinion, what would it take to win Ghost's heart (or well, Simon's)? :)

It's great to hear you like my interpretation of Ghost! I'll gladly share my thoughts on this, the supposed love life of Simon Riley is one of my favorite subjects 🧐

Thoughts on what would it take to win Simon's heart under the cut ->

To be honest I see it highly unlikely that Ghost would date. I think Samuel Roukin's opinion on this matter was spot on. Simon's traumatic background, trust issues, the need to stay anonymous and his profession as a special ops soldier is just too heavy a combo. His family's murder and multiple betrayals have pushed him on a path of extreme independence and made him evade any kind of attachment.

That being said... I'm a hopeless romantic and love to imagine scenarios just like every other little simp here 🩷💋, and I've pictured (and occasionally written) him to be drawn to someone who is principally the opposite of himself, but who also has a dash of angst in their heart and firsthand experience or at least some basic understanding of complex trauma.

A positive vibes only/sunshine type of person would not resonate well with his darkness, and a carefree joker would only annoy him. Then again, there's Soap – but the thing with John MacTavish is that he shares the same profession and in that way, is not a stranger to the Underworld. Their banter is also evidence enough that Soap is not afraid of Ghost's madness and even looks up to him – actually a perfect way to make someone like Ghost enjoy your company. This man has a terrible praise kink but he can't stand spineless bootlickers. So the adoration should happen in a "I trust you and would follow you to hell & back" kind of way.

However, due to the shit he's been through, I'd say (contrary to popular headcanon, I dunno?) that Simon would likely fall for someone outside the military world. First of all, he's very uncomfortable with the fact that his partner has to fear for his safety. But the fear of losing his partner to the dangers of this profession would be a little too much. It would only trigger a shitload of PTSD stuff. The fear of losing a loved one again would override the mutual experience and bonding through warfare, all the elements which otherwise might be pull factors in a military love interest. On the other hand, people with traumatic backgrounds tend to repeat the pattern, no matter how horrific or unsafe, simply because it's familiar. Still, I'd say someone from the base personnel would be a more alluring option for him. The shared hell, so to say, could make the foundations of this relationship quite dark. Not that it's necessarily a bad thing!

Deep down, Simon would be attracted to softness. Not innocence, per se, just something different from the realm in which he operates. This is why I think he could definitely fall for "a normie". He would appreciate dark humor and a certain kind of fearlessness, however. What ultimately would win his heart is someone who can stand, even cherish, his melancholy and cynicism and life choices and who is not on a quest to change or "fix" him.

I think Simon's ultimate wish is to find a home because he has lost it (or hasn't really had one in the first place). He's a leader and has to provide safety and support on a daily basis to the people under his command. But who offers support and safety to him? He knows how to protect people but doesn't know how to create a safe space, so he would appreciate someone who makes him feel he's finally found his way home. I think he yearns for a small measure of peace and a slice of normal life to wash away the adrenaline and blood and filth, he wants a small corner free from the demons that haunt him, even if he would reluctantly (if ever) admit that he does.

#answered #ghost headcanons #simon riley headcanons

[knightofthesevenfandoms]

Now that you've watched s2, I'm very curious to hear your opinion about it as an honourable IB shipper

My feelings are very mixed, while their flashbacks were pretty cute, the "confession" scene felt TERRIBLE to me. Why would these two old bureaucrats sing a cheesy song at each other in front of their respective courts 😭 Why were they speaking like 13 year olds. The ending just ruined the relationship becoming canon :(

Really long answer incoming lol.

Okay so. Essentially, yes. It was jarring/cringe because it was so VASTLY different than the vibe of their relationship that I had built in my head the last four years. I've always thought of them quite a bit more mature, sometimes combative, and really fucking kinky. But I wouldn't say it ruined it for me, and I'll explain why.

Initially it seemed SO out of character, the lovey-dovey, almost childlike affection they had for each other. But it's exciting for me to consider what if this WAS in their characters all along, they were just never given the opportunity/felt safe enough to let that side of their personalities be seen. Which is HEARTBREAKING but there's some subtle evidence to back this up.

We all know Bee is an angry, annoyed, high ranking demon with a lot on their plate. Even Crowley said "because they're always such a ray of sunshine" to Shax because it seems common knowledge to all of Hell that Bee is, well... an angry little shit. But they ARE a ray of sunshine when they're with Gabe, away from hell, away from their daily stresses, away from the expectations of running Hell. LOOK AT THEM.

We saw a hint of this in S1, when they showed a moment of vulnerability. When? In front of Gabe, at the airbase. They can't show weakness in Hell because they can't weaken their position as Prince (Grand Duke?), but Gabriel is the only other being in the entire cosmos they feel is an equal, and they can therefore let their guard down like they did at the airbase, and like they do a little bit more at every meeting with Gabe following Armageddon. Until they were actually showing the real Bee- who is a little unsure, kind of quiet, and a worrier. I always headcanoned that Bee absolutely WAS soft, underneath all their posturing, but only ever in private and only ever with Gabe. AND THEN I WAS GIVEN THAT HOLY SHIT.

Okay now on to Gabe. I always headcanoned that after Armageddon, he fucking broke. He snapped. He was SO TIRED of working toward goals, leading the host of Heaven toward said goals, and then the biggest one of all ended up a failure and essentially it fell on his shoulders. And that's basically what did happen in canon! It started, just like it did for Bee, at the airbase, when it was all falling apart, he turned to the only being he could that would understand his frustration.

He was always the hard-ass boss, albeit an idiot and a dick, but the memory wipe proved there was a sweetheart in there somewhere. Before the season aired, I assumed the memory wipe was what would show Gabe the error of his ways, and he would learn to be gentle and generous and loving through that trial. But it turns out HE ALREADY LEARNED IT BY THE TIME OF THE MEMORY WIPE.

Heaven seems so cold and lonely, and my god the scene where he says no one had ever given him anything. My heart ached for him. Heaven didn't even give him a desk. MURIEL, a 37th order, was given a desk but he wasn't. Away from the cold sterility of Heaven and his obligations, he heard Bee say they liked something, and he realized how happy their enjoyment made him. So he decided he liked it too. He never got to enjoy things (other than clothes), or his time around others, and Bee provided him that escape, simply by saying "I like this song." And then he miracled the song to play because he wanted to make someone, other than himself, happy. And he was ready to swan dive into Hell, give up the clothes he loved, because he knew he'd be okay, he and Bee would be okay if they were together.

Yes, their relationship is way different than I pictured it would be. But I'm framing it instead of being ooc, maybe we weren't seeing the real Gabe and Bee in S1. We were just seeing them as the result of their respective situations.

And the confession, to me, was used as a juxtaposition for the husbands confession, which uh. Did not go nearly as well.

So yeah, the singing to each other and their soft, innocent affection was cringe. But Bureaucracy has always been cringe, Bee is a gremlin and Gabe is an idiot. I'm looking forward to exploring their new dynamic in fic, and maybe filling some of the gaps that took them from where they were to where they are now.

#good omens #beelzebub #ineffable bureaucracy #gabriel #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers

[cherriiiepiee]

“Pretty flowers?”

arthur morgan x female reader !!!

no smut, fluff, flustered arthur, barely put any work in this ^_^

—

Arthur entered Saint Denis and began to walk around aimlessly, the atmosphere of the town leaving a foul impression on him. He despised it with a burning passion, yet the memory of your conversation and your love for flowers prompted him to overcome that distaste and set off to find those pretty flowers you enjoyed.

After countless hours of strolling, Arthur managed to find an exquisite bouquet of flowers in a store, their sweet and pleasant aroma filling his sense of smell with each breath while the bouquet caught his attention with its beauty. Arthur cared nothing for the exorbitant price of the flowers. The thought of your sweet smile was more important to Arthur than money could ever be, and he felt content with making this small sacrifice to see you happy.

—

Arthur cradled the bouquet of flowers in his hands as he walked out the store, “I hope she’ll like em..” Arthur muttered under his breath. He gave the petals a light caress with the pads of his fingertips. He hoped you would immediately fall in love him and just ask to marry him on the spot. His attention remained focused solely on the flowers, causing him to accidentally bump into his horse. The horse was startled and let out a small huff in response.

“Ah, ‘m sorry, boah.” Arthur stuffed his hand in his satchel and pulled out an oatcake, feeding his horse. Arthur showed the horse the flowers with the intention of eliciting its reaction. The horse simply sniffed the flowers before going back to its usual duties, providing no discernable reaction.

Arthur's anxiety took the helm of his emotions once more, causing his frustration to bubble up in his chest. His uncertainty only further fueled his anxiety, as he awaited your reaction with mounting concern.

The horse began galloping back to camp. Arthur was completely immersed in his thoughts about you, unable to focus on anything outside your presence in his mind. He paid no mind to his horse or where it was headed, his attention only on the thought of you at camp. Every little gesture you displayed made his heart swell with happiness, yet he had yet to notice his horse heading the wrong way..

The horse let out a startling whine in response to the sudden gunshot, bucking Arthur off its back and causing him to tumble into the dirt. The bouquet was now covered in mud, its beauty tarnished and its fragrance muted. Arthur's careless movements as he rolled in the dirt caused the bouquet to get crushed underneath him, the flowers trampled in the result.

“Shit..” Arthur was overwhelmed by feelings of humiliation after noticing the state of the bouquet, disappointed that he would be presenting you with such messy and ruined flowers. His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the sound of laughter coming from afar, prompting him to hastily duck behind a tree and hide from view, Arthur stuffed the flowers into his satchel. He cautiously observed his surroundings, scanning for the sound with rising concern.

O'Driscolls filled up the camp, their boisterous laughter and the clink of beer bottles filling the atmosphere. The gang members did not care about being quiet, as their behavior was rather outlandish and chaotic, their lack of concern for noise apparent to Arthur.

Arthur leaned down, reaching for his shiny revolver and firing numerous rounds towards the men, his anger evident from his sharp and abrupt shooting. Each O’Driscoll tried putting up their best shot but died one by one. Arthur’s arm flew up to his head, wiping the sweat dribbling off his forehead. Putting his two fingers in his mouth and began whistling for his horse. His horse soon turned up, nuzzling its face into Arthur’s calloused palms.

“Awhhh, it’s alright, boah.” Arthur was quick to dismiss his horse's actions, forgiving its small misdoings without second thought. Even if the horse made a bigger mistake, Arthur would still be quick to forgive it.

"Let's head home," he stated softly, putting his revolver away and beginning to move away from the area, staring down at the torn flowers resting in his satchel.

—

Finally returning to camp after the encounter with the O'Driscolls, Arthur was greeted by several gang members with a few smiles and familiar greetings. However, when Arthur's gaze met yours, seeing that soft smile you gave him, he was filled with a blend of emotions. His throat tightened as he swallowed the lump down, the sweat beading down his body the physical manifestation of his anxiety.

This was the moment Arthur had dreaded, yet he couldn't back out now. He attempted to wipe off most of the mud on his body but it failed miserably, just getting it more on his pants. Arthur grew annoyed but with a deep breath, he summoned all of his courage and approached you, digging the crushed flowers out of the satchel with his shaking hand. His hand slowly stretched outward, attempting to offer you the pitiful bouquet.

“For you..” Arthur's voice was barely audible, seemingly unable to hold his ground and meet your gaze as he attempted to offer you the pathetic bouquet. The crushed flowers were the only remnants of the beautiful bouquet Arthur had once envisioned, and the sight made him feel deeply embarrassed. He remained staring at the ground with an intense stare as he waited for your response.

"What happened to them?" Your soft and concerned voice greeted Arthur's ears, eliciting a wave of shame and frustration. He felt mortified by his appearance, your reaction to him a painful reminder of the unfortunate incident that brought about the crushed bouquet.

"They.. were like this when I first got em," Arthur lied quickly, he was a terrible liar but he didn’t wanna tell you the true story. You would’ve laughed in his face. taking a deep breath. His gaze remained fixed on the ground while his body visibly tensed up from the embarrassment.

“Oh, what a shame.” You sighed softly, knowing Arthur was attempting to cover up the truth, but you were unwilling to pursue the matter any further. Your gaze found his blushing cheeks, your heart warming at the thought of him trying to get you a gift. It was an unexpected sight, seeing the ‘rough n tough outlaw’ so flustered and embarrassed as he attempted to give you the crushed bouquet. You took it in your hands, smiling at the sight.

“I know it’s not pretty —“ Arthur scratched the back of his neck. He began speaking but you interrupted him quickly.

“I love them.” You smiled, kissing his cheek.

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #teehee #part one #no smut #fluff #arthur morgan #vrstx #foryou #red dead redemption 2 #x reader #flowers #poorly made #redo? #arthur morgan rdr2 #female reader #please request #^ ^ #i love you

[strawberryraviegutz]

I really REALLY hate those kinds of stupid “hot take” posts. I think they’re just garbage to purposely farm more discourse to cause infighting, but I’ve been holding this in for so long and I need to get it out of my system so here it goes.

Alastor fans are allowed to dislike Valentino. Valentino was made to be a dislikable Villain while Alastor BY VIV’S OWN WORDS is a chaotic neutral antihero based off of Dexter with a moral code. Of course people are gonna like Alastor more than Valentino. The antihero/vigilante is a very popular beloved trope. I mean just look at Magneto and Venom.

You guys claim to want more nuanced characters but when we try and tell you that Alastor is more nuanced BASED OFF OF EVIDENCE FROM THE CREATOR and little possible context clues in the show we get accused of “babying/woobifying him”(as if Val fans haven’t done that to Val). This isn’t a hit piece against all Val fans/simps btw. I may hate that moth, but you guys should be allowed like him without receiving hate and or death threats.

It’s not “hypocrisy” to dislike Valentino or the Vees and like Alastor for the reasons I said above and the four of them aren’t comparable. Yeah they share some traits but overall the only thing Alastor and the Vees have in common are the mistreatment of the souls they own. Like I said, Val fans shouldn’t be attacked for liking him but the thing is…if you’re gonna preach those words then do the same for Alastor fans/simps because we get attacked too.

(Again it’s not all Val stans but it sure it a lot of them. I’ve all so seen Val haters do it too.) Yall claim not to harass people over fictional characters yet will go under Alastor posts and or discussion threads and be like “Uhm actually him and Valentino are the same🤓☝️”.

“He’s worse than Val” “Why can’t we just have a good villain” “Just accept that Alastor is a villain stop babying him” when we’re just minding our own business. Not to mention people going under fanart of Angel! Alastor and being like “erm actually he’d never go to heaven🤪”.

Along with yall bullying the hell out of Alastor selfshippers/simps and using tumblr sexyman as an insult(which reaks of internalized misogyny btw because majority of Alastor simps are women + women are always the first to be made fun of when it comes to characters that Classify as tumblr sexymen being found attractive by them or any character you personally wouldn’t find attractive.)

And yall going around and keep calling Alastor ugly under posts about people gushing about him and i don’t mean lighthearted jokes either because i make fun of the back of his head sometimes too. And full blown harassment. When an Alastor fan provided evidence of Alastor being a more nuanced character which were clips from Viv’s streams, people in the comments and qrts were being extremely rude and dismissive. It got so bad that op deleted the og tweet.

Don’t go around and claim to be against cringe culture but then make fun of people for finding Alastor attractive. And for goodness sake STOP FUCKING CALLING HIM A SLAVE OWNER. And yes he owns souls but that doesn’t matter.

Alastor is canonically half black and its overall disgusting to slap the label “slave owner” onto him knowing damn well that he grew up in the Jim Crow era of America in the Deep South of Louisiana. His existence as a mixed black person back then was basically considered an abomination. With how terrible it was for black people back then, Alastor probably bore witness to a lot of messed up shit growing up and if that’s the case then it’s no wonder he’s so messed up in the head.

This type of behavior has been going on since the days where we only had the pilot and it’s only gotten worse since the show came out. As soon as I saw that scene with husk and Alastor in hell’s greatest dad I automatically knew what was coming. I’m not saying that Alastor Is a good person nor am I saying that what he did to husk was ok. But to go after/make fun of Alastor fans,purposely denying evidence of his character while in the same breath preach against bullying people over liking certain characters makes YOU the hypocrites. So much for anti-harassment. I’m tired. Bye.

#hazbin hotel #vivziepop #vivzieverse #alastor #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #valentino #hazbin hotel valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #husk hazbin hotel

[the-thirteenth-prime]

A slightly unhinged ramble-rant on Chairman Rose and how people are missing the entire point of SWSH.

Like, I keep seeing it pop up--like a fucking rank smell you only detect if you’re in a certain place when the wind is blowing in the certain direction--but man does it not bewilder me. Like, these guys who post tags like ‘Chairman Rose is a bad guy but is not a BAD guy’ or ‘I kind of agreed with Chairman Rose’ are just. Are you high?? Did you entirely miss the point of his character?? Did you completely miss the main plot of SWSH?

I’m going to be talking about some heavy shit (including non-sexual child grooming and non-sexual child predation), so I’m gonna put the rest under a read more, let me just say that the theme of SWSH is the relationship between adults and children on their Pokemon journeys, the responsibilities adults have towards children, and what happens when that relationship is abused.

First off, before I get some know-it-all coming at me about how there’s no evidence that Rose is a child predator or a groomer, let me just say there is. Is he a Chris Hansen ‘take a seat for me’ groomer?? No, he’s not, because child grooming is not purely a sexual thing.

Per a very informative article:

“Grooming can be sexual, romantic, financial or for criminal or terrorism purposes, and can target both children and adults. The common aspect is that a perpetrator manipulates a victim by building trust and rapport. The key to grooming is a power dynamic within the relationship: age, gender, physical strength, economic status or another factor.”

Now, with that out of the way, I’m not going to go into shit that’s super obvious to anyone with eyes, but Rose is a serial child groomer. Like, his most obvious victim is Leon, and it’s really wild that people can’t see it?? Like, Leon obviously comes from a fucked-up home situation with a mother who’s absent and neglectful at best (and the people who don’t seem to realize this REALLY confuse me). Like, he has canonically raised his little brother in a house with three adults that could have done the job for him, and the anime literally stated that he was so busy raising Hop and taking care of household chores that he could barely interact with other kids. He was endorsed by Chairman Rose at an age that is implied to be at least two years younger than the average Gym Challenger, and--per the sub of the PokeAni--Rose literally raised him from the moment he became Champion.

(Where was Leon and Hop’s mother during this, you ask? Obviously being terrible at home, since despite Leon being run ragged for all of his life and rarely being home, he still somehow raised his little brother. Let that sink in.)

So Leon has spent his entire life being moulded into Rose’s delusion of the Hero of Galar for the sole purpose of sacrificing himself to defeat Eternatus to stave off an energy crisis that will happen in a millennium and probably would be averted with solar power. THE SUB IN THE POKEANI LITEARLLY HAS ROSE TELLING LEON THAT HE HAS GROOMED HIM FOR THE EXACT PURPOSE OF TAMING ETERNATUS. I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP. I WILL PROVIDE SCREENSHOTS IF ASKED.

Does he know Leon may likely fucking die in the attempt? He sure does, because he’s already started to work on grooming Leon’s replacements! In the game, Bede is a trainer who came from a neglectful home situation who was noticed by the Chairman and given his endorsement for the Gym Challenge wait hold on that sounds really familiar.

Really, REALLY familiar.

Rose’s ploy with taking away Bede’s gym challenger endorsement after Bede literally did what he asked him to was a clear manipulation tactic, and if it hadn’t been for Opal intervening (and she ABSOLUTELY has Rose’s number and you can’t convince me otherwise), the tactic likely would have worked, because Bede would have done anything to get his endorsement back.

(Also Oleana is absolutely the fall girl set up to look like an obstructive villain while Rose can maintain his veneer of innocence. That’s a topic for another day tho.)

AND THEN. in the anime, he flat out tries to do this with Ash. AND IN THE GAME, HE TRIES TO DO THIS WITH THE MC, LIKE BEDE IS HIS PLAN B AND THE PC IS HIS PLAN C. However, the only child Rose has regular chances to interact with who DOES NOT get the manipulation treatment is Hop. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Chairman always tries to pull shit with you when Hop isn’t around, and the two times he DOES interact with Hop are at the very end of the game where Leon’s been forced into trying to stop the apocalypse and after the Opening Ceremony.

What’s different about the Opening Ceremony, though? LEON IS STANDING RIGHT OVER ROSE’S SHOULDER SMILING STEPFORDLY. Which brings me to my next point: why Rose pulls his end game bullshit.

Leon is now in his early 20s, so he has obviously started to ask for his own agency and say no to things. He has also obviously realized that he does NOT want Rose around his brother, which is why he is fucking looming over Rose’s shoulder when he meets Hop and why Rose almost seems to deliberately avoid Hop for the rest of the game. Rose knows that if he so much as messes with Hop, Leon is going to absolutely turn on him, and he’s already become obstinate enough to be a problem. Rose is losing control of Leon, which is why he’s grooming his potential replacements.

It’s also why Rose LITERALLY HOLDS LEON HOSTAGE IN A TOWER. Like, I am amazed that people haven’t seemed to realize that Hop and the MC were ABSOLUTELY rescuing Leon from a hostage situation. Leon had been on top of the tower with Rose for HOURS at that point, and given Oleana’s personal fucking army and how much Leon clearly did not want to be up there, it’s obvious that there wasn’t a way he could easily extricate himself from the situation. What you do hear from his meeting with Rose sounds a lot like a guy trying to say no while also trying to de-escalate a volatile situation: almost like a victim to their abuser oh wait.

(Oleana also says that the reason she wants to defeat you and Hop is to break Leon’s spirit so he won’t have the strength to say no to the Chairman anymore. Like, that’s literally in game. It’s dialogue.)

So yeah. You’re rescuing a prince from a tower who’s being held hostage by an evil king trying to use the prince’s special power for nefarious purposes. This game is full of fairy tale metaphors. Like, a ton.

When you and Hop show up, you basically force Rose to let Leon go so as to not look like a complete fucking monster or cause a scandal, and Leon basically very politely tells Rose to ‘fuck off’ when he leaves.

So Rose--this narcissistic, megalomaniacal child groomer, who’s basically been shut down by the lynch pin of his plan--does the absolute most rational thing and RELEASES THE APOCALYPSE DEMON OUT OF SPITE. He literally says on a screen in front of Galar that oh no, his releasing Eternatus and causing the Second Darkest Day is actually all LEON’S fault for being so unreasonable and unrealistic. It’s manipulation. It’s emotional abuse. It’s Rose punishing his victim for saying no. It’s Rose throwing a tantrum because Leon told him to wait another week before doing something about something that would happen in a millennium.

Bede made a fool of Rose doing exactly what Rose and Oleana wanted him to do, so he punished him. Leon said no, so he punished him, and punished all of Galar while he was at it. He’s not doing shit for the good of Galar. He’s doing it for himself.

See, the game’s story exists to debate the relationship between adults and children in the Pokemon world. For generation after generation of games, children as young as ten have gone out in the big wide world with nothing but their starter and a Pokedex, and the adults they have met have never had any poor intentions towards them specifically. Yes, there’s all the evil teams and blah blah blah, but they weren’t targeting you, the child MC. You were just caught up in their messes. SWSH is the first game to show that no, there are adults who will try to take advantage of you because you are a child, and there are good adults who will try to protect you.

Opal protects Bede. Leon protects you and Hop. Leon has obviously gotten old enough to realize that what Rose did to him was wrong, and he tries so fucking hard through the whole game to protect you and his little brother from his boss’s machinations and all the bad shit happening in the world. I know people bitch about being ‘railroaded’ and not allowed to participate in the ‘plot’ until the end, but that’s the point. The good adults are trying to protect the children from the bad adults trying to harm them, and the children intervene only when the adults die trying to save them. Children should be allowed to adventures and have fun, but they should also be protected and shielded from shit that can harm them and shit they’re not old enough to understand, and this game--for better or for worse--is trying to strike that balance.

One last, very important thing. Leon’s life had been micromanaged and controlled from the moment he became Champion by Chairman Rose. He had to become all things to Galar--its fucking policeman, it’s regional hero, it’s unbeatable symbol of perfection, it’s hero, and--almost--its messiah--and when the MC becomes a Champion? He doesn’t hesitate to become Chairman, and he tells you--the new Champion--that your job is to explore and have fun. He doesn’t ask you to do sponsorship deals. He lets you do matches and tournaments at your own leisure. He calls you politely to ask if you want to do the Galarian Star Tournament. He doesn’t even know your PHONE NUMBER and I think about that a lot.

The game is about the responsibilities adults have towards children. It’s about how you don’t have to be the main character to be the hero. It’s about how you can’t and shouldn’t do everything alone. It’s about how child predation and abuse don’t have to be obvious or ‘traditional’ to be real and a threat. Finally, as Leon demonstrates so poignantly, it’s about breaking the cycle of abuse.

And THAT’S why SWSH is one of the best stories--if not THE best--that the Pokegames have ever told, regardless of its faults and the National Dex and a berry tree looking a little weird.

#swsh #pkmn swsh #pkmn sword and shield #champion leon #chairman rose #gym leader bede #pokemon trainer hop #oleana #pokemon sword and shield #pokeani #gym leader opal #tw: discussion of child abuse #cw: discussion of child abuse #tw: discussion of child grooming #cw: discussion of child grooming #tw: discussion of kidnapping #cw: discussion of kidnapping #(plz don't let the tags scare you away lol) #give the pokeani the shit it deserves for how it treated the swsh storyline and the galar gang #but the one thing it did right was showing rose for the abusive predatory narcissist he is without beating around the bush #leon #pokemon leon #pokemon hop #sword and shield #galar region #galar #pokemon

[elektramustdie]

𝐅𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 (𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

warnings - unprotected sex ( don’t be silly wrap that willy) very slight choking, spanking, angst ??

“| work hard to make enough money to keep us here, and I hate every fucking minute of it, | fucking hate it! But | do it for you, and you always act so fucking ungrateful" frank screamed, pointing his finger in your face.

Another fight had started between you two, the same one that never seemed to end. You and Frank had moved from your city go-getter lifestyle to one in the suburbs, trading the subway and bright lights for a cute little house and picket fence.

You hated being a housewife, you hated the stupid neighbours who couldn't keep their noses to themselves, and you hated your little court where every house was a carbon copy of the other.

Going from your fast-paced life to this was the last thing you ever wanted. You worked remotely which provided you with the luxury of working wherever you wanted, so when Frank got offered a job promotion to lead the next expansion for his company it made sense to make the move.

But you weren't happy, and neither was Frank. He came home every day angry, or tired, or disappointed. Never happy.

You moved for a job he ended up hating, all because the money sounded good and you thought it would make your lifestyle better. But it did the opposite and you just wanted to move back to the city and get back to your lively, fun life. Your happy life with your husband. Hence the fight, the one where he acts like you're ungrateful because you complained that he was always angry.

He walked through the door and slammed it shut, not even saying a single word to you before disappearing into his office to do god knows what then coming out only to ask you what was for dinner. Like you didn't work as hard as he did.

“Ungrateful!? You are fucking unbelievable. | never wanted to move in the first place, but I did it because you wanted the promotion. And now it's backfired and it's suddenly my fault? You come home angry every fucking day and it's my fault!? What sort of bullshit logic is that" you yelled back. "Don't fucking act like you didn't want the money” he sneered, stepping closer so you were nearly toe to toe "The second you saw that shiny new payslip, and the little convertible | bought you, you were frothing like you do over my cock"

"Oh fuck you, Frank! Money means shit when you come home angry then act like an asshole and we both know it. I'd sell my fucking carina heartbeat if it meant I got my husband back. So don't you dare tell me this is about the money, this is about you proving to yourself that you didn't fuck up. Because Mr'I'm always right’ can never be wro-"

You couldn't finish your words, because your breath was taken away when his hand darted out and wrapped around your neck, his mouth smashing against yours in a brutal kiss. You grabbed his wrist instinctually, the other hand fisting his dress shirt as you kissed back hungrily. "are you gonna shut up and let me fuck it out, or would you rather keep screaming at each other" he pulled away harshly, his breath hard and the anger burning through him evident by his clenched jaw and flared nostrils. You didn't want to respond, because all that would come out were angry words, more screaming. So you just pulled him back by his shirt instead, kissing him again and wrapping your arms around his neck. Frank gripped onto the small of your back, pulling you flush into him so he could move his hands lower to the hem of your dress. He walked you backwards, and you followed blindly, stumbling until your bum hit the edge of the dining room table. He roughly tugged up your dress over your hips, lifting you onto the table before practically ripping your underwear off. Everything was rough, angry, heated.

You frantically undid the buckle of his belt, tugging open his zipper and pushing his pants along with his boxers down. There was no time to remove clothing properly, his shirt stayed on, as did your dress because you just needed each other too bad. He tugged your head back with a firm grip near your roots, guiding himself to your entrance before entering in one hard thrust. You let out a cry, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the intrusion.“I hate fighting like this" he grunted, attaching his lips to your neck as he squeezed your hip for leverage. His thrusts were borderline savage, anger evident in every movement as he drove into you. He was hitting every spot perfectly, his mouth attacking all your sensitive areas in a way that had you crying out with every touch. It felt so good, words couldn't explain how amazing it felt to be reconnected with your husband again.

"So do I" you whined, unable to hold your moans back. Frank forced your hands off his back and onto the table edge so he could slip your thin straps down your shoulders, letting the dress fall just enough to expose your bouncing breasts. His hands returned to their places, one at the back of your neck and the other sliding down to your clit, rubbing in circles the way he knew you loved. He attached his mouth to your breasts, kissing and sucking everywhere to mark you up. You were his, and marking your pretty skin with his mouth showed that to anyone that saw. He wasn't going to lose you, and he wouldn't be the reason you decided to up and leave one day. He loved you too much for that.

“Can feel you squeezing me, you're close aren't you baby? Always cum so quick around my cock" he panted, feeling your thighs tense on either side of your hips. You let out a little moan of encouragement, too caught up in the borderline painful thrusts and his delicate touches on your clit building up your orgasm to form words.

“Cum for me, let me feel it" he demanded, nipping at your neck before kissing a line up and bringing his lips to yours. You exploded soon after, letting out a cry as waves of pleasure erupted through your body, your hips shaking and seizing as he never stopped his thrusts or his touch on your clit. It almost became too much, but Frank knew your body like his own and slowed his movements before you even asked him to. You hadn't even calmed from your high before you were lifted again, carried through the house with his cock still filling you to the brim and brought to your bed. “Take your dress off" Frank demanded, dropping you onto the bed and beginning to undo his shirt buttons.

“Take it off yourself" you challenged, leaning back on your hands and looking at him with defiance. Your dress had moved back in place when he took you to your bedroom, collected around your hips and hiding everything he wanted to see. You were sick of him telling you what to do and how to feel. You needed to push back, ina way that wouldn't result in another argument. Getting him to unleash his dominant role and punish you for not listening to him sounded like the perfect way. Your anger wasn't gone yet and having him spank your ass would've helped release a lot of that. "Now isn't the time to test my patience" he warned, slipping his shirt off and dropping it to the floor. "Take it off"

“Fuck. You" you over pronounced each word, smiling sweetly at him. His jaw clenched, his eyes trailing over your body in a slow sinful manner. Before you knew it he grabbed onto your ankles and pulled your body flat, turning you over and gripping your hips to drag you back so you were on your knees close to the edge of the bed with your upper body against the duvet. He thrust into you in one go, eliciting another loud cry when he began spanking each of your cheeks. He had an impossibly tight grip on your hip, enough to create bruises that you'd feel for days. His smacks landed one after the other, alternating on each side as he kept a hard pace the entire time.

“I hate when you don't listen, but you do it on purpose don't you? Just want me to bruise you up isn't that right?" he rasped, wrapping your hair around his fist and tugging back so you were forced to follow, your back bumping against his chest.

"Yes, gives me something else to feel" you panted, your words having more weight behind them than you meant. Your body buzzed when he quickly pulled your dress off then hugged you close to him with an arm around your waist.

“What are you feeling right now huh? This not enough?" he asked against your ear, pressing over your stomach where his cock was bulging out. The angle was so steep, so deep and full you felt like crying, You felt like crying in another way too. Anger had a quick way of turning into something more… broken. Even with Frank's cock feeling incredible inside you, the skin-to-skin contact between you two feeling like it had healed so many wounds… it wasn't enough.

“ feel like i hate you and I'm trying not to” your eyes squeezed closed as you felt his movements stall, the high of what was meant to be hot angry sex disappearing quickly.

"What?" his voice was defeated, a complete 180 from his previous commanding tone. You couldn't reply, not when he slid out of you, or when he turned you around to face him. You kept your eyes closed the whole time, not wanting to look him in the eyes. "Baby, look at me, please" he begged, cupping your face. You put your hands over his and opened your eyes slowly, seeing his broken expression making you want to close them again and go hide. "You don't mean it do you, you don't really hate me?" he asked, pleading for it not to be true.

“I do… | hate who you've become, who this job has turned you-me into… We never fought, never yelled and now that's all we're doing" you sighed, "I love you, but I can't help but hate you at the same time. I just-! wish we could go back" tears welled up in your eyes and you looked up at the ceiling trying to get rid of them.

"Oh no, please don't cry. Fuck, please baby, just look back at me" he pleaded, wiping his thumbs under your eyes to catch the tears spilling down your face. You let out a quivering breath before looking back at him, your eyesight blurred from tears. "We can fix this, /can fix this. 'll do better, | promise" he assured you, kissing you gently in a promise.

"How Frank ? Acting less angry, or upset won't fix the fact that you're unhappy. | want you to be happy" you sighed, your heart breaking at the thought of Frank playing pretend for you when he was suffering on the inside. You wanted something that made you both happy.

“And | want you to be happy… | thought this move would do that, but maybe | was wrong…” he admitted. Frank didn't care about himself, he would've worked a job he despised every day for the rest of his life if it meant you were happy and taken care of. He never thought that he was bringing his anger home with him, too clouded by the money and what it had given you two materially to realise that he wasn't being a good husband. You weren't ungrateful, you were tired. Tired of him.

“So what do we do?" you asked, knowing what you wanted to do, but not sure if Frank wanted the same thing. We move back to the city, and I find a job that makes me happy and helps me be a better husband… for you" he smiled, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. “You'd do that?"

"I would move heaven and earth for you baby, I'm so fucking in love

with you it's ridiculous" he smiled, making you smile in return. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close so you could kiss him, unable to hide your smile against his mouth. "t… love…you" you spoke between kisses, deepening it when you felt Frank wrap his arms around your waist in return. Your kisses held so many words, so much love, so many apologies and regret, so much Just. It turned passionate fast, Frank groaning into your mouth and guiding you to lay on your back with your head on the pillows. His hands caressed your body as he hovered over you, running his hand down the curve of your waist to your hips then back up, palming your breast before grabbing his cock to guide himself to your entrance.

“I love you so much, darling. My beautiful, beautiful wife" he professed, kissing you sweetly as he nudged inside you, taking his time to slowly push until his balls touched the curve of your ass. He was making sure you felt all of it, felt every vein, every inch of him slowly filling you up.

“I love you" you whined as he started moving, hiking your thigh up your hip as he delivered slow but hard thrusts. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he rocked into you, keeping your bodies as close together as possible. You loved kissing him, being close to him. Sex didn't fix everything, and your discussion would definitely have to be more thorough than Frank's promise, but it helped a whole lot to bring you back together. Your bodies moving as one, rocking in sync, hips meeting each other with gasped moans and whimpers, 'I love you's' falling like a mantra out, of your mouths. It was lovemaking at its finest, a symbol of your marital promises to each other, your unbounded love. His fingers met your clit, rubbing in soft pets that brought you delicious pleasure. He wanted the two of you to finish in sync, the ultimate promise of moving forward as a couple and making things better, together.

" Faster, p-please you breathed, your back arching up when he followed your plead almost instantly, his hips snapping against yours with greater speed that was immediately drawing your orgasm faster.

“Want to cum together, please baby hold on for me… squeezing me so. fucking perfect" he panted, his forehead dropping to the crook of your neck as he pressed haphazard kisses to your skin.

“I'm close" you moaned, head dropping back and eyes squeezing shut as you tried to reign in your orgasm. You were on the edge, and holding back was agonizing.

"I know, fuck-I know. 'm close too baby, just hold on" he begged, joining your mouths again in a sloppy kiss as he rocked alittle faster to chase his own orgasm. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, rubbing against, yours in a way that had him groaning. He loved the taste of you, of all of you.

“C'mon baby, oh god 'm coming, 'm coming" he spoke against your mouth, keeping a steady pace on your clit as he stilled inside you, his hips shaking as he came. You could feel his orgasm fill you as you let your own go, moaning out in relief as the tension left your body, pleasure spreading from your core outwards. You called out his name, clawing at his back and desperately seeking out his mouth as he drew you through it with gentle caresses of your sensitive bud.

" i love you, | love you, | love you" you repeated against his lips, his body slumping over yours as you both panted in each other's mouths. He repeated the sentiment, giving you a peck before rolling off you and bringing you into his chest, still needed to feel close to you before he had to get up and grab something to clean the two of you up.

"I'm sorry for our fight, | never should've said those things… | didn't mean it" Frank whispered, cupping your face to face his and rubbing his thumb under your eye, remembering the tears that welled up there. The serene feeling in the room felt too sacred to disturb by talking louder.

“I'm sorry too" you apologised in a similar tone, "We will need to talk about it properly, | hope you know that" you spoke again after a few minutes of looking each other, saying so many things just by the looks

you were exchanging.

"1 know… just let me hold you for now"

 



#smut fic #my chemical romance #frank iero #frank iero x reader #mcr #emo

[moreespressoformydepresso]

TBOSAS where the thing that fixes the pain and suffering is the Capitol’s cruelty. Because I love positive irony like that.

Somehow, the zoo enclosure where the kids are kept is destroyed. Since it’s so unbearably hot in the books say something caught on fire and the tributes were taken out of the enclosure because there won’t be any games if all of them are dead. This conveniently sidesteps Brandy’s death because it happens either just before or right after she stabbed Arachne. If she did kill her bitch of a mentor the fire was so beautifully times that all evidence of her little crime was destroyed and nobody knows it was her. How convenient. One could almost say it’s divine intervention. Now, the kids need to be kept somewhere, and the zoo was sooooo annoying for the mentors, so the tributes are put in cages around the city. Near the academy so those poor oppressed rich kids who aren’t about to die don’t have to suffer even more for traveling 10 minutes to see the vile district scum. This… backfires horribly for the Capitol. See, the tributes are separated. For the sake of this story they’re all in separate cages on their own.

How does this lead to a fix-it? Well, it’s now much harder to not interact with the tributes. You don’t have to go to the zoo to see them, and you won’t have to pay money either. The tributes can’t hide in the enclosure, so everyone can see the discomfort plain on their faces as they try to cling to some kind of privacy. The cages have one side agains some kind of structure, so seeing these kids ducked agains the one solid part of their cage is very hard hitting because it’s impossible to ignore what they’re going through now. Even the biggest tributes look small, all alone and helpless.

And then the mentors get involved, and things really kick into high gear. All the tributes like Sejanus, and at first people thought it’s because he’s district. Now they can see it’s because he’s actually nice to them. The nicer mentors are trying their best to help their tributes, and the less amazing ones receive a bit of a cold shoulder. Several fights between different pairs of mentors and tributes happen, and all of them color in the kids’ perspective of everything in a way that’s undeniable. I feel like a big part of why the Capitol citizens had so little empathy is because they refused to see things from the tributes’ perspective due to not seeing them as people. But when massive crowds witness these arguments, it’s hard not to. When all you see is a figure deep in the enclosure and a face on a screen it’s easy to chalk their anger up to some irrational grudge or just vile beasts being their vile beastly selves without thinking about it too much. It’s a lot harder to do that when you have Facet screaming at Livia for treating him like a disposable object and shirking all her duties as a mentor, such as providing his basic needs, while pretending she’s done jack shit for him. When the citizens hear the raw emotion in his voice, it’s very difficult to not feel even the slightest bit of empathy.

And when they watched Lamina cry on a screen, it was easy to laugh at her for being so weak. But when this young girl is sobbing right in front of you, and you can see the pain on her face? Suddenly it’s a whole lot less funny. Even more so when she calls Pup over and ignores the food he offers her in favor of asking about her district partner. The crowd can’t ignore what they’re putting these kids through when they watch a clearly starving girl only accept food when she’s reassured a boy that has to die for her to live is being fed. When Lucy Gray sings for food it feels like the beggars in the city until she asks her mentor to bring more than half of what she got to Jessup and whichever tributes have gotten the least that day. And when all the tributes keep asking about each other with clear and obvious worry, even for the tributes from other districts who they’ve only known for days, suddenly the people find themselves stuck with the unescapable notion that these are kids who are being forced to perform like circus animals, who are about to be forced to kill each other, yet still find it in themselves to show empathy. It’s especially inescapable when the tough, strong tributes who everyone expects to be vicious are the ones doing this. Reaper and Coral for Dill and Mizzen, of course, but even more impactfully Marcus for Sabyn. Two of the stronger tributes showing concern for one another, despite neither having that underdog or innocent air the younger tributes have.

At one point, Treech is performing for a crowd and some of the mentors pass by, including Vipsania. As soon as they approach he stops what he’s doing and retreats to the one solid side of his cage. Vipsania calls for him, and he utterly ignores her existence. All he dignifies her with is a hateful glare. Then Pup comes into his line of sight, and he shoots up immediately to ask whether Lamina’s okay. It’s only when Vipsania gets huffy about this that Treech actually acknowledged and responds to her. Not nicely though. Rather, he goes “now why ever would I not want to talk to you? It’s not like you starved me so I’d perform or anything. Gosh, it’s such a mystery!” Before turning back around intending to sit down. Vipsania tries to defend herself and it goes about as well as you may expect. By which I mean, a one-sided screaming match ensues. More like Treech giving into the urge to start ranting and raving about all the shit he’s been through while finally telling Vipsania how he feels about her treating him like a toy to use and discard once he’s no longer of use to her. When she says she just wants to help him now, he reminds her that her “help” so far has come down to actively making his life harder for her own benefit. “You’ve done enough, Sickle. Go back to your prissy princess palace and leave me alone.” Very similar to Facet when he finally gave Cardew a piece of his mind, actually.

And slowly people start giving the tributes food, even when they’re not performing. Slowly they start to change their minds about the games, and once the interviews happen they finally realize all these kids have families and friends waiting for them in the districts. And only one of them gets to go home. But… they’ve seen how sweet these kids are to those that don’t treat them like shit. And honestly, nobody really wants to see them die anymore. And they realize if they don’t act now it’ll be too late. So they act. And long story short the games are finally stopped for good.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #the hunger games #10th hunger games #hunger games #fix it au #treech tbosas #treech #tbosas treech #treech thg #thg lamina #lamina #tbosas lamina #lamina thg #lamina tbosas #brandy #arachne crane #let that bitch die #facet tbosas #facet #livia cardew #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #pup harrington #marcus tbosas #pliny harrington #vipsania sickle #this is a weird AU but I’ve had it in my head in several forms for a while now #so here you go

[detrahere-se]

-ALEX KISTER…AGAIN.

this one is more so about donut, which i have FINALLY finished my notes and reading the entire thing.

first off, ALMOST ALL OF THIS HAD INACCURATE DEFINITIONS OF WORDS OR NO EVIDENCE AT ALL. a big portion of the doc is simply hearsay and ‘witnesses’ which donut provides nothing for. they hide the ‘witnesses’ by letters but only mentions having them in the beginning. no statements or screenshots about these witnesses during the section about the gender server.

secondly, EVERY conversation was suddenly interrupted by donut as ‘ill fouled’ ,meanwhile, if you were to look through every screenshot, like i did, none of them could have possibly been ill intended.

not to mention, donut was extremely inconsiderate and rude about alex’s mental health that was then criticized when made the right decision. apparently, alex had made a public insta story about how he was going to harm himself which concerned many people. alex cut off communication with a lot of people in the server, including donut, who is a minor at this time, before doing the right thing and saying that he didn’t want to talk with donut anymore. donut ever so clearly blames this on alex being panicked about ven almost busying his career. which is extremely disrespectful to automatically assume when someone is trying to do their best and you just think it’s a way to get out of responsibility. (my wording is a little shit, but you understand)

lastly, a LOT of these last few paragraphs are ‘woe is me’. mentioning things about them being hypersexual, revealing info that no one needed to know for any reason, and blaming their, ‘pain, despair’ and other shit i won’t bother to go back for.

so i’m about 90% sure this is to make alex look so much worse than it is and i have even seen donut hide comments about what is, supposedly, about how their faking this stuff. but hey, i don’t know! why? because it’s hidden and i can’t show it due to twitter!!

sorgy that this was long, kinda a rant.

(also i will try to out out more horror stories i swear yall😭)

#alex kister #the mandela catalogue #alex kister callout

[iliiuan]

I'm to the point where Gawyn actually makes a decision, and a lot of the criticism he receives seems misplaced to me. He makes shit choices because he has shit information because the women he trusts to provide him with information refuse to communicate. Elayne, then Siuan, and then Egwene all misused him.

He followed Elayne to Tar Valon and undertook his training there, doing his duty without complaint. Then his sister vanished. His mom freaked out. He worried, and also BLAMED HIMSELF.

When Elayne returned, I don't remember if she even bothered to say 'hi' in his direction before running off again. Now he's really worried. Siuan won't tell him anything. Min won't tell him anything. He's trying to keep Morgase from blowing a gasket. Galad's joining the Whitecloaks. And then... there's a coup. Siuan, having given him exactly zero reason to trust or back her, he knew Elaida as a respected advisor, and he thought that her ascent was legal. He also thought that he would be able to get the information he wanted out of Siuan. All of this makes sense.

Then he stumbles. The change in Amyrlin doesn't fix his problems. He still doesn't know where his sister is. He lets Min rescue Siuan (and Leane and Logain). I don't remember his reasoning, probably because it wasn't very good. This particular point was all him.

Now he has his Younglings, and Elaida wants him disappeared, and he's sent on the mission to scoop up the Dragon Reborn for Elaida. He's heard rumor that Rand murdered his mom, maybe his sister as well, and he has a bloodlust for revenge. All of this is really reasonable, frankly. Then he runs into Egwene.

Egwene has the power to divert Gawyn from his path of doom, but she instead chooses to ignore him (in the political sense) and withhold information from him, while also sort of using him as a spy but not very well. Instead of using her rather impressive people skills to push him onto a healthy path, she uses him for some snogging and makes him promise not to harm the person who is supposed to save the world. She doesn't tell him where Elayne is. She doesn't give him any evidence about Morgase beyond being a character witness for Rand. She doesn't explain about the fractured tower, nor emphasize her allegiance to the rebel faction. She makes no effort whatsoever to sway him to her side, to even try to convince him to abandon Elaida. She doesn't even respect him enough to read him in as a spy for her. She also seems to think that a low-level soldier will be able to protect Rand from Aes Sedai. You know the ones, the women who can channel? Yeah. Not fucking likely.

So off he goes, swimming with his misperceptions, making ever more desperate decisions, experiencing increasing trauma and stress, until he finally comes to his senses and seeks out Egwene's side.

What I'm really trying to emphasize here is that Egwene could have had him on her side beginning in Cairhien, but she couldn't be arsed.

So when he goes back to her, and people criticize her for being with his loser self, my heart deflates a little. He deserves so much better. Even if he is a loser.

I also find the claim that Gawyn exemplifies toxic masculinity to be backwards. If anything, Elayne and Egwene are the ones displaying the traits usually associated with toxic masculinity: arrogance, withholding information or training, refusing help and then being upset when the helper isn't around, seeing the opposite sex as deficient (this one is only Egwene), acting invincible/infallible, not listening to good advice because of the gender of the person giving it ... you see? Don't be fooled by his masculine-coded job of bodyguard; everything else about the gender roles in his world are reversed from ours. He has a prescribed support role, and when he can't fulfill it, he becomes lost. He doesn't get to determine his destiny, so he doesn't train in how to make life decisions, but rather in how to follow orders and to walk his prescribed path.

So much about Gawyn's journey matches with the experience of women in our world who were raised and trained to be homemakers, but then had to claw their way out of abusive relationships, or find meaning after infertility, or push forward as a single parent after being abandoned by a husband or family.

So yeah, I have a really difficult time accepting a lot of the scorn he gets, especially from supposedly feminist critique.

#wheel of time #wot spoilers #gawyn trakand #elayne trakand #egwene al'vere #siuan sanche

[gay-dorito-dust]

Part 7 of deadweight, please?? It’s such a good series!

Vax, Vex, Keyleth and Percy were quick to abandon the original plan in finding the vestige in the hopes of finding you and so far they weren’t so lucky.

Every dark shade that they’d believe to be you was a mere fluke in a realm where it felt like you were on some strange LSD acid trip 24/7. They didn’t know how you could split off from them when you were right next to them through the journey here.

Keyleth believed that it might’ve been the realm, taking offence to your position as the raven queens champion. It was a plausible reason seeing how everything reacted negatively towards you lately.

Vax, Vex and Percy however collectively agreed that their Druid party member just had a bad spell casting capabilities. She was making an attempt which is what counts.

“Do you think they’ll ever forgive us?” Keyleth asked the question that was truly on everyone’s mind but they all knew the answer to that too.

“No.” Vax answered bluntly, “they’d be pissed if our method of reconciliation with them was to sweep all the shit we’ve done to them under the rug.”

“That’ll be the equivalent of kicking a man while he’s down.” Percy pitched in, “We’d be disregarding their feelings and experiences if we did that.”

“So our only option in making it up to them is to acknowledge that we were cunts and promise to be better for the future.” Vex finished as they continued to delve deeper into the woods. “Wherever they are,” she continues, “I hope they’re alright.”

[with you]

“VAX, VEX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran further into a dense, dead forest to escape from the murderous vegetation that had been trailing you. All you did was step on some weird looking flower! You apologised afterwards! What more could they fucking want!

When you didn’t hear the rampaging horde of angry plants did you dare to look back to see that they had seemingly lost sight of you and gave up the hunt in order to head back home. “Weird.” You said to yourself, sheathing your daggers but before you were about to continue trekking the foreign land for your party members.

a voice called out to you from deep within the forest, causing you to become in some sort of trance as though your body was no longer yours to control anymore as you could only watch yourself walk through the dead forest, through some sickly looking swamp of thick black goo like substance as though it were water.

“You’re friends aren’t coming to save you my dear,” the voice said. “They’re too preoccupied with the vestige to worry about your well being.” It then chuckled before continuing, “your need for companionship is quite pathetic. You feel alone whenever you in a room with the rest of your party. Alienated, ostracised, outcasted from the group of outcasts.”

“I, however, can provide you all the companionship you will ever need, all you need to do is come to me. Come to me. Come to me. Come to me.”

Your body did as this voice told you as you watched it reach a dead tree trunk that opened up with an ominous red glow. As soon as you stepped inside, the tree was quick to close up behind you, sealing you in with whatever monster laid inside.

“That’s not good.” Warned a horned mystery figure with fiery hair sat upon a rock. “I must tell their friends that their little warrior mate is in danger, grave danger should they hear out Saurndor terms and conditions.” With a blink of an eye, the figure had dissipated in thin air.

[back to vox maxhina]

They’ve searched

And searched

And searched

But they had yet to still find evidence that you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere but Percy, Vax, Vex and Keyleth believed that they were getting close, though how close was close was still up for debate.

“Ugh! They could be anywhere by now!” Vex cries as she and the others crossed a riven, annoyed at the lack of progress. How could they miss a armoured figure with black feathered shoulder pads in a realm of eye straining, migraine inducing colour?!

Either you were trying to find them also or…Vex didn’t want to think about the other option. They’ve lost you once, they were determined to never loose you again. They still had unresolved problems to put to rest.

“They couldn’t have possibly gone to Syngorn?” Percy asked, looking back they way they came as though waiting to see your silhouette encroach in on them but nothing. The gunslinger sighs in disappointment and dissatisfaction as he pinched the skin between his brows.

“Fat chance.” A unknown voice told them.

Percy, Vax, Vex and Keyleth turned to look who it was only to see a fiery haired being with horns sat not too far from them, notebook in hand.

Vax was quick to pull of his dagger, “who are you and what have you done with y/n?” He threatens but the horned male merely laughed as though he was threatened with a stick rather then a sharpened piece of forgery.

“I haven’t done anything to them, but Lord Saundor will should you fail to reach them in time.” He muses, still drawing in his little notebook.

“What is that meant to mean?” Percy said gutturally, holding his gun at the being who seemingly knew your whereabouts. “Who’s Saundor?”

“That’s for you to know and for you to find out.” The figure cheeked before pointing towards the dead forest that Keyleth, Vax, Vex and Percy seemed to somehow miss in their mission of searching for you.

“They’re currently under his trance. I should’ve told them to not listen to him but by the time I got to them, they were already walking right into his trap. Poor thing, whatever ails them must take a heavy toll on them.”

Vax, Vex, Percy and Keyleth looked to each other in shame and sorrow. Whatever this saurdon did to you, must’ve been using your most deeply desired against you, they had indirectly made you dispensable to him and now this was their chance to make up for everything by saving you.

“Lead us there and we’ll think about letting you live.” Vex said.

“VEX, VAX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!”

“VAX, VEX, KEYLETH, PERCY! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!”

“VAX, VEX, PERCY, KEYLETH! IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran into a forest area with weird looking plants trailing you with murderous intent.

“VEX, VAX, KEYLETH, PERCY! I WILL KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran deeper into a weird looking forest area with even weirder looking plants tailing after you with murderous intent.

“VEX, VAX, PERCY, KEYLETH IM GOING TO KILL YOU! AND THEN KILL YOU AGAIN!” You screamed as you ran as fast as your legs could carry you deeper into the woods as weird freaking plant fucks were tailing you

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