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slvttyplum · 3 days

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toji taught you how to ride dick and how to ride it good, to the point where his toes were curling, his eyes were rolling to the top of his eyelids, and his hands were gripped onto your ass for dear life.

once you were on top, you couldn’t stop; his mouth would get dry and his hands would get sweaty as he watched your every move, waiting for you to do something. first you’ll tease him and slowly slide yourself up and down on him, and when he's caught off guard, you'll quicken the pace.

his eyes fluttering as he tries to catch up to you, but at that time he was already going to finish. he hated when you were on, but he loved how it made him feel. how your pussy felt sliding up and down on him as he tried to keep his moans to a minimum, but you knew how good it made him feel and how he needed a break from beating your pussy in from the back, so this was the next best choice.

at first, you were nervous to get on top because you didn’t know what you were doing, but toji changed that around real quick and taught you. telling you how to move your hips and to keep your feet planted and not to slam down on him too hard, the whole course, and just like that, you learned how to ride him so well that he was whimpering.

his hands changing from your hips to your ass every second to see which was more stable for him to keep his hands on, deciding to just keep his hands on your ass because it felt better.

sometimes you would get carried away though, your hands planted on his shoulders, and you started to slam down on his harder, the tip of his dick touching your sweet each time, making your stomach cave in and your stomach swarm with butterflies.

“slow… go slow.” trying to tell you to slow the fuck down, but you were worried about finishing on his dick, toji was way ahead of you when you felt his cum leak into you and slide down your aching core, slamming back into you. this was the quickest way to make him cum, if you were bouncing up and down on him for a minute, then just know he was going to cum in the next one.

that’s what makes him so cute sometimes; he just couldn’t resist you even if he wanted to, his eyes going dark whenever you leaned down to give him a kiss, his cum leaking into you over and over again.

mr. tough guy that finished in under five minutes whenever you were bouncing up and down on him while he held his breath, trying to focus on anything and everything else. there was something about that position that made him want to finish inside of you and not apologize or have any regrets about it. it’s like you were tighter whenever you were tight, wrapped around him as you slid up and down quickly, giving him no time to react.

if he didn’t have time to react, he would whimper under you, your hand sliding on his face and your lips on his giving him a peck as you go faster. toji would even beg you not to go fast so that he could have the mental strength to at least try not to cum from you bouncing up and down on him, but you never listened. that's what made riding him fun.

since he taught you how to ride him, what better way to pay him back than to make him cum from just that? and he hated that you reminded him of that. he should’ve just kept you in the dark about how to ride him, but then he wouldn’t have you wrapped around him like you are now; he just hated how he reacted to your every touch.

“fuck… baby, just slow it down, please.” words that would usually never come out of his mouth slipped out when his cum was inching towards the tip of his dick. he was begging you to slow down, and even though it was cute, you just couldn’t give him what he wanted. this was a sight you barely got to see, so you tried to milk him out as much as you could while you were on top of him.

the results were stunning.

his cum leaking out of you every time you bounced on him, fucking his cum deep inside of you while more poured out of him.

one time tears were pouring out of his eyes form how good you were riding him. he didn’t even want you to stop until he noticed that tears were sliding down his cheeks. even though he wanted you to stop, you didn’t.

and so you kept going until your legs were giving out and weak, his chest rising and falling as he blabbered to himself how much he hated you but what he actually meant was.

“i love you so much.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #x reader #toji smut #toji x y/n #jjk toji #jujutsu toji #fushiguro toji #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #dilf toji

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thefreakandthehair · 2 days

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I just wanna see that smile

wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-compliant injury/recovery, hospital setting, getting together, (brief and inferred mutual) pining, first kiss

a/n: happy (belated) birthday to my pal, @firefly-party! kei drew this piece last year and it was one of the first artworks we talked about when we became friends. this series has continued to live in my brain ever since, so I decided to write a little something in the universe!

Eddie woke up on March 26th, 1986 and Steve’s waited patiently for this moment ever since.

Well, patient is a misnomer— he’d waited quietly to anyone not named Robin or Dustin. Robin, because she knows him too well and there’s no point in trying to hide anything from her and Dustin, because he’d apparently grown up overnight and pieced together that Steve sitting at Eddie’s bedside and holding his fucking hand every time he waltzed into the room meant something.

Or maybe it was when Steve gave Eddie all of his rings back, sliding them carefully onto his shaking fingers with a comforting smile.

Or maybe when Eddie sat up unassisted for the first time and Steve nearly hit the ceiling, bracing him in a panic as if all of his stitches and staples would burst with the tiny movement he’d been working toward in physical therapy.

Hell, maybe it was Steve taking over some of Eddie’s care for himself, washing his hair and braiding it because the staff at Hawkins Memorial are doing nothing more than the bare minimum to make sure they don’t get sued, or even more frightening, reamed out by the new duo of Hopper and Wayne again. Either way, his hair was making Steve’s own scalp itchy.

Dustin never tells Steve what it was exactly that tipped him off but whatever it was, it’s enough for Dustin to give Steve the floor when Eddie’s getting ready to discharge back home. And that’s how, exactly two months later to the day from Eddie waking up, Steve enters Eddie’s otherwise empty room armed with a special treat in the form of milkshakes to find Eddie pouring over an unfortunately familiar stack of papers.

“NDA?” Steve asks, nodding at the papers in Eddie’s lap. He’s upright, fully dressed in the black sweatpants Jeff brought by and a cut off Metallica tee shirt, bandages around his stomach and neck.

Eddie mutters as he reads under his breath, eyes flitting across the page.

“How the fuck do they expect any of us common folk to understand a fucking word of this? Hereby? Wherein? Hitherto? What fucking year did I wake up in, man?”

“Yeah, I think the whole point is that you don’t read what you’re signing but I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Steve huffs a small laugh through his nose as he steps carefully around Eddie’s crutches. “You may as well just sign it because if you don’t, they’ll forge it anyway. Now finish signing your life rights away so you can have this milkshake with me.”

Eddie perks up, looking away from the mess of papers and smiling up at Steve with a smile so genuine, it punches the air out of his lungs. He keeps looking at him like this, like Steve’s a breath of fresh air, like he's someone Eddie wants to have around.

Steve isn’t sure what to do with that look yet, but he’s sure glad it’s there.

“Celebration milkshakes? Is this a freedom gift?” Eddie signs the NDA quickly and sets the pen down on the bed next to him.

“It sure is. Figured this could make up for all those lame popsicles from the cafeteria.”

The mattress creaks as Steve sits down on the edge, just to the side of the railing, and hands Eddie the strawberry treat. Their fingers graze, Steve’s chilled and Eddie’s warm. His hand is still a little shaky, trembling as he takes hold of the cup, but they’re warm and warm means alive.

Eddie’s hand can tremble for the rest of his goddamn life so long as it’s always warm.

They each take a sip, smooth ice cream slurping up their straws, and after a moment, Eddie sighs.

“Is it weird that I’m actually sort of worried about leaving?”

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, looking down at Eddie’s rings glinting beneath the offensive fluorescent lights above them.

“What are you worried about?”

“Uh, well, I did almost die. And the town still wishes I did. It’s a lot easier to make those dreams a reality outside of these walls, y’know? And I’m uh…” Steve watches as Eddie takes a breath and Steve suddenly misses the early days when Eddie was connected to the heart rate monitor.

“You’re…?” Steve presses, sipping his milkshake again to appear casual.

“I see you all the time here. Guess I just don’t want that to change.”

Steve’s heart skips a beat, clattering in his chest and pounding at his ribs, desperately trying to crack him right open and run to the man who’s claimed it. Eddie watches him with cautious eyes, opens his mouth to say something else but Steve cuts him off before he can take it back.

“Why do you think that’d change? Forest Hills is a lot closer than this shithole, and you won’t be kept under lock and key. And as for the first thing, well, Wayne and Nancy have a lot in common and I have a bat loaded up with nails in the trunk of my car.” Steve rests his free hand on Eddie’s knee. “No one's gonna fuck with you. Don’t worry about that.”

“You sound a little cocky there, Stevie.” Eddie lifts one eyebrow, glancing from Steve’s hand up to his eyes. “Ready to fight for my honor or something?”

“Yep.”

He hadn’t brought the milkshakes intending to use them as props, but he’s glad he has something to do to fill the space as Eddie watches him with questioning eyes. As he slurps through the straw, grating noise still preferable over the awkward silence, Eddie’s pinched expression turns softer, realization dawning between the stark white walls of the hospital and the pink ice cream in both of their hands.

“You’re serious.” Eddie says.

“Took you that long to figure that out?” Steve teases.

“I’ve been a little busy with learning how to breathe and walk again. Y’know, just little things.” Eddie rolls his eyes with that same fond smile, free hand lacing its fingers through Steve’s. “So what you’re saying is that I’ll see you just as much outside of this prison as I have inside of it?”

Steve shrugs. “Probably even more, honestly. There are no visiting hours at Wayne’s, and it’s not like I have a job to rush off to these days. You’re stuck with me, Ed. At least for as long as you want me around.”

Eddie snorts, unceremoniously scoffing in Steve’s face as if in disbelief.

“Don’t make promises like that. What happens when I never want you to leave?”

The air shifts, growing heavier as they find themselves leaning closer, two satellites orbiting one another by nothing but gravitational pull.

Steve’s not sure who actually closes the gap, but he finds himself with his lips pressed against Eddie’s— sweet, chilled, a little chapped but smiling against his. Months of waiting, of hoping that he’d get this opportunity, come to a deafening crescendo and it takes all of his discipline to not push. Instead, they pull apart and Steve smiles, tucking loose hair behind Eddie’s ear.

“That’s easy. I’d just never leave.”

fun fact: kei, I wrote your birthday down in my calendar as the 28th for some reason, a solid ten days late, so know that this was planned from the get-go but was just a tad bit late.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs

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maxknightley · 7 hours

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hey man listen, im sure you just didnt know because hes just a funny haha tweets guy but dril is literally an outspoken nazi on twitter and has made mulitple tweets with nazi dogwhistles and literally responded to someone going "its not a joke, i fucking hate jews". like theres screenshots and posts and stuff about it out there and im sure you could dig through his twit. none of my posts about this ever get picked up because no one wants to admit the internet funnyman is a bad guy but hes like. a literal actual nazi. take that as you will

disclaimer for my followers: do not start shit with this person. I swear to fucking god. be cool.

not to be rude but I looked this up:

on twitter's website, where I found nothing;

on twitter's mobile app, where I also found nothing;

on DuckDuckGo, where I found nothing except the "(((keebler elves)))" tweet, which I think you could reasonably argue was in poor taste but hardly seems like a sincere endorsement of fascist beliefs;

and on Google, where I again found nothing except the "(((keebler elves)))" tweet and people talking about the keebler elves tweet

so, like, with all due respect I think you're either misremembering something / conflating him with someone else, or someone is fucking with you. I'm genuinely not sure what else this could be referring to, other than his recent slew of tweets mocking the nation-state of Israel, which - speaking as an antizionist Jew - I think are good and funny

the main reason I'm posting a response to this ask at all is because I get asks like this a lot. like, every couple months at this point. but usually they're not about dril, who 1. barely uses this website and barely ever has, and 2. has bigger things to worry about! usually they're about Some Trans Woman who I may never have even fucking heard of. I've gotten asks calling latina trans women "white" and accusing them of being turbo-racist because they Disagreed With Someone One Time. I've gotten asks trying to convince me that a woman I've never spoken to is a sexual predator based on literally zero evidence of any kind. and it gets fucking tiresome. okay? it's really, really fucking tiresome

so I figure I'll post this one because it's illustrative, and because it won't stir up shit around someone who might actually get hurt by it. please stop doing this. please stop sending me completely unsupported asks about how such-and-such is a terrible person.

at the bare fucking minimum send me actual concrete Posts that I can look at, because then I can actually judge for myself whether it's something worth getting upset about. otherwise there's basically a 10% chance I look into it, find nothing tangible, and shrug, and a 90% chance it goes straight into the trash.

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celenawrites · 3 days

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— a soft life: unofficial prologue

Summary -

Retired and domesticated, Johnny and Simon look forward to the next step in their life as a couple - parenthood. However, initiating this process turns out to be a lot trickier than usual.

And then enters you, a tired grad student who is desperate and willing to be their surrogate for some much needed cash. Needless to say, they find themselves orbiting you - like planets to the burning sun.

Warnings - A/B/O dynamics, Metaphorical ramblings of 'killing' parts of one's personality, reader is implied to be an immigrant and POC so expect topics of misogyny, sexism and threats of forceful marriage/parenthood to pop up in later chapters, Unbeta'd and unedited contents so mistakes are inevitable, etc.

Word count - 1, 128.

series masterlist || read on ao3

Your eyes burn.

The black cursor blinks against the empty white expanse of your Word document, taunting you and your incapability to muster up anything to write for your thesis. You shut down your laptop after staring at the blank document file for what seems like hours, barely mustering up the concentration needed to finally name the topic of your research thesis.

You lean back against the black ergonomic chair and it creaks under your weight, and you can feel the way your back cracks as you stretch your arms over your head. You take off your glasses, and then let your palms rub at your aching eyes as you contemplate what more you could do to distract yourself from your imminent doom.

Between your laptop and piles of printed papers, textbooks and notes lies an opened manila envelope that has delivered devastating news to you at a crucial point of your life.

The education system is unfair in many ways, and going into academia and research is definitely not going to be a walk in the park for you. But your passion for the subject had you undeterred - leaping at the first chance of pursuing your postgraduate degree from one of the most prestigious universities in all of the United Kingdom. And yet, the printed letter you had received last week is threatening your dream and you do not know if there is any way for you to salvage it.

You have rapidly applied for financial aid, scholarships, internships and even odd jobs - but most of the potential employers have either ghosted you or put your name on a never-ending waitlist. You cannot wait till next year to know if they would hire you for minimum wage, damn it.

By the time they reach out to you, you might already be well on your way back home. And you do not want to go back home.

A few tears of frustration bubble up in your eyes, leaving hot tear tracts on your skin as you try to wipe them away. You need a break. God knows when was the last time you had slept.

At moments like these, when life was too much and the stress made the idea of death all the more inviting to you, your inner voice - your Omega, someone you have suppressed and killed with your own violent hands, would resurface into your life like a phantom and she would haunt you with incredulous ideas and sweet impossibilities. Need someone, need Alpha, she would whisper to you all sultry, Wanna be taken care of. Too much, too much, too much-

And you would bury her remains again.

You cannot be soft. You cannot be kind. You cannot let people know you care.

It would only get you killed. Or worse.

You get up to leave the room on shaky legs and your knees buckle after staying so still for hours on end. You enter the small kitchen, put the kettle filled with water on the stove and turn it up to high heat as you lean against the island and rub your hands over your languished face. You’re so tired. So fucking tired.

The kettle simmers over the fire, letting out a small hiss from its spout. You pay it no heed. You think and think and think of all the possible ways you can salvage this mess of a situation - only to end up with nothing.

The market hasn’t been kind, and you do work as a TA and some freelance work online as an editor to ease your financial worries, but it is not enough.

You can always take up more shifts at the floral shop, but that can also possibly interfere with your academic schedule - which is the last thing you could possibly want. You can always call back home, but the very idea of it fills you with dread and makes your stomach turn and sicken you even more. You could-

The kettle lets out a loud whistle, steam oozing out of it rapidly and the mobile phone in your jeans rings at the same time, startling you into action. You turn and hurriedly turn the stove off, letting the kettle rest on the island as it lets out all the steam stored in the ceramic vessel.

You abandon the pot of leafy concoction, opting to go outside into your living space to finally pick up your ringing phone. You wipe your clammy hands on a hand towel lying nearby before you swipe the green button to pick up the call.

“Hello?” you state your name, “Who is it?”

“Good afternoon, Miss” the feminine voice greets you over the mobile, “This is the Larksky Fertility Clinic”.

Your heart stills.

You read the email the clinic representative had sent you after you got off the call with her.

Alice was her name. Alice sounded like a kind woman.

You read through the attachment files in the mail. The pamphlet outlined the vision and works of the fertility clinic, highlighting their doctors and the various fertility testing and treatments they offered to people and couples alike. The other attachment files consisted of the bare minimum information about the couple that are currently seeking you out in order to conceive.

Mr. Simon Riley and Mr. John Mactavish.

Both are ex-military - one of them is a personal fitness trainer and the other runs a security company. They’re willing to negotiate the price for your ‘assistance’; which is something you’re grateful for, even though you’d have done it for free once upon a time.

While you have always been unsure about parenthood being the right path for you (and your personal aspirations and fears wouldn’t necessarily allow you to indulge in such ideas just yet), you have always wished to help people create the families they deserve. And you believe this call to be some sort of sign, corny as it might sound to some.

Maybe it's divine intervention. Or manifestation. Or some spiritual signal.

You have always been willing to help others out in any way possible - from taking on extra workload and sharing necessities to blood donations and volunteer work. At one point, you had been looking forward to helping people out with completing their families - eager to see them so ecstatic about becoming parents. The idea of doing this for money solely leaves your mouth dry, as if you have swallowed cotton - and yet, yet.

It wouldn’t hurt to try, anyway. Sending out a response through your email, you confirm the time and date of the meeting with the clinic. You console yourself and reason with your heart (or what is left of it anyway) - you need the money, you always wanted to do this, now is a good time anyway.

A/N -

I decided to post this almost scrapped prologue in hopes to motivate myself and to keep on writing some more. Hopefully, I will be able to post more in May. Also, forgive the few grammatical errors in this piece, I haven't been too keen on correcting such errors at the moment. I will eventually clean this up later on. I just wanted to put this out there so that I can work on the later parts of this series.

#call of duty #cod:mw2 #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x you #john soap mctavish x reader #ghoap x reader #ghoap au #tw a/b/o #call of duty angst #cal lof duty fluff #char.simon ghost riley #char.soap #🌸.a soft life #celena.writes

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grimm-writings · 1 day

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can i request chilchuck making reader their favorite dish when they get back to the surface? like inviting them over for dinner to try and confess properly :3

the secret ingredient

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, post-canon, senshi being wise

…wc! 949

…notes! this is so cute… what da hell… enjoy your meal 🥺

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

The half-foot is running around the kitchen of his home like a headless chicken, which is coincidentally what he’s holding over his head rushing from the oven to the hob, and back to see if things are stable.

The one who remains perfectly calm and still, stirring a little pot of gravy is Senshi, glancing to look over at Chilchuck trying to stir some vegetables.

“...You forgot the–”

“I know I forgot the salt!”

With clear agitation, Chilchuck shrilly screams the words back at Senshi as he scavenges the cabinets around him for the salt. Senshi already showed disdain for how disorganised Chilchuck’s kitchen is. At the time, he had simply dismissed it, but now it’s biting back when he clearly doesn’t know where things go and how they got there.

Chilchuck tries not to overflow the vegetables with salt as he mutters to himself. “They’ll be here in an hour, we don’t have an hour to fix all this up – Senshi can you hurry the gravy up?!”

Giving his friend a sidelong glance, Senshi keeps stirring, as gravy shouldn’t be left alone. “No can do, Chilchuck. This takes time.”

“We don’t have—”

“Were you not prepping this all beforehand?” Senshi looks around at the already made meals. “I love food myself, but… this might be a bit…”

Chilchuck’s glare once Senshi turns back at him could kill. “What? Much? You think it’s ‘a bit much’?” He throws his hands in the air. “They deserve the best meal I can make for them! Aren’t you always talking about the best way to bond is through food?”

“Well, yes, but–”

“Listen, Senshi,” Chilchuck slaps his hands down on Senshi’s shoulder. “This… This needs to be perfect. I can’t go and confess to them if it isn’t.”

The dwarf takes in Chilchuck’s worries, before pointing behind him. “The chicken is–”

“SHIT, THE CHICKEN IS READY!”

Senshi turns down the heat of his part of the hob as Chilchuck runs off, and begins pouring the gravy into a jug. “I thought you’d know more than anyone that quality should be favoured over quantity,” he muses.

Chilchuck, upon retrieving the chicken from the oven, grumbles incoherently. He sighs. “I guess I don’t want to disappoint them…”

“I’m sure they’d love even just one portion of their favourite meal with you,” Senshi advises, patting Chilchuck’s shoulder. “Even with all of this food, you’re missing the secret ingredient.”

With confusion etched into his features, Chilchuck looks at Senshi. “What?” He flatly responds. Did he miss something?!

Senshi smiles – or rather Chilchuck learns that when his cheeks puff and his eyes close that he’s likely smiling – and chuckles slightly.

“Love, o’ course.”

Chilchuck looks like he is losing brain cells in real time. “Love,” he repeats, in slight disbelief.

“Yep.”

“Love.”

“That’s it!” Senshi takes a step back. “Do ya happen to know their favourite dish?”

Chilchuck can’t believe he’s about to learn some moral about love at a time like this. “...Yeah, why?”

“Let’s scrap all this. I can hand them all out to families around the place,” Senshi graciously offers. “Instead, make a two-portion meal, their favourite, for your dinner. And sprinkle in some love.”

The wink Senshi gives him results in Chilchuck’s skin going hot in embarrassment. Really? That’s his suggestion?

“I wanna impress them,” he says, quieter.

“I know ya do, but you can’t do that rushing around doing the bare minimum of cooking.”

The silence of the kitchen fills Chilchuck’s ears, and suddenly he’s aware of the heat of the room, how sweaty he is, and how tired he feels.

He really has been going overboard from stress, huh?

The half-foot takes a deep breath, grounding himself in this reality again and meekly nods. “Yeah. Fine. You can give all these meals away to the townsfolk.

Together, the dwarf and half-foot put the meals in appropriate containers and bags. Right before Senshi was about to leave, Chilchuck stops him.

“Hm?” Senshi turns as his attention is grabbed. He knows Chilchuck isn’t the best with his feelings by now, but as his friend, he feels it’s his duty to at least help him.

The half-foot doesn’t look him in the eye when he says, “thank you,” cheeks flushed.

Senshi perks up at Chilchuck’s gratitude. “Not a problem,” he returns, leaving the home.

Now alone, Chilchuck checks the time. You’ll be arriving in 45 minutes.

…Sure, he can make one meal by the time you show up. With his secret ingredient he can.

It takes a strenuous amount of precision on Chilchuck’s part, but with his line of work there’s nothing that he can’t do. His love is poured into the meal, from how he stirs the mix from how he gently places a little stick of parsley on the top.

‘Tis finished, the little Senshi in Chlichuck’s head heaves a sigh of relief.

Right on time too, considering the knock on the door. Chilchuck wipes the beads of sweat off his forehead and rushes to welcome you in, before noting he needs to get dressed into something nicer.

When he comes back, you smile that wonderful grin. “Thank you for making dinner for us, Chil.”

His secret ingredient shines through for you, from how he presents the meal to how he returns your smile, the lines under his eyes crinkling. “Really, the honour is all mine.”

He offers his hand out to you, and you accept. Even if you’re somewhat surprised, Chilchuck has always been quite a gentleman around you.

Chilchuck thinks that, maybe, he is able to confess with just his confidence and love alone. There’s no need for frivolities.

Just one secret ingredient seals the deal.

#✮ grimm's fics!#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #chilchuck imagines #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims imagines #chilchuck tims x reader

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yandere-sins · 2 days

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IM CRYING AT THE THOUGHT OF KÖNIG NOT LETTING DARLING COOK

No because imagine him approving of your combat skills (if you suck then you wouldn't be a KorTac operator in the first place) and enjoying how well you work with him on the battlefield but he draws the line if you were to get injured from cooking 😭😭😭

Darling, KorTac, and TF141 when König refuses to let darling cook but allows her to commit war crimes:

Darling explaining (begging) to König on why he should let her bond with the others like a normal soldier and cook for herself because she's not a child.

König towards anyone who tried getting too close to HIS platonic darling (they made a small talk).

You're sooo right about Ghost being rougher yet gives his darling more freedom aka the bare minimum. The problem with platonic yandere König is that he's infantilizing! Even if he's also friends with Horangi, you and Horangi are treated very differently. Horangi and KorTac pities you, truly.

I thought of something, since the rest of TF141 doesn't know the whole thing about you and König, how would you think they'll react towards König's treatment towards his darling? The only ones who came to my mind are Price and Ghost. Price who raises an eyebrow because he's not even like that with his men, and Ghost calling König out on his treatment that makes you uncomfortable.

König is just too afraid something might happen, he totally pulls darling from any missions if he can, but alas, they are more than capable. It also starts out as kind of nice for the darling, I mean, it's great if someone takes care of you for a while, right? But at some point they'll be pretty annoyed for even needing a chaperone to go to the toilet. But of course it's also hard to send König away. He only means well after all... Darling will need to put their foot down even if it hurts (':

The 141 probably sees it as a weird co-dependant situation at first. You're like a service pet even though they never saw the "real" and vulnerable König, so it makes even less sense. However, things do begin to ring alarm bells when they notice you getting frustrated about things like being sent away whenever you want to make food for yourself and König taking over. Or when you don't show up to training. Ghost and Soap are more on the personal front, catching up to you and bumping into your shoulder, asking if you're okay. Price is more of a business front where he orders you to meet him, however, he's still kind when he asks if you need help or if there is something uncanny going on he should know about. They're not really in a position to interfer with KorTac employees, but if you tell them you need a break, they can at least try to get the big guy off your back ever so often. You'll have to do the reporting yourself if you have enough but they can give you the pen and paper or telephone if it's something you'd rather not do in König's presence. But then again, do you want to?

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skelotom · 2 days

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Big things happen often happen slowly, but they still happen.

I feel like I am taking a decidedly passive approach to transitioning. I am just kinda letting things happen. A part of me wishes changes from hrt were more obvious, that I would be forced out of the closet and forced to actually make an effort. But that would also be scary. I still have work to do before that point. Still working through electrolysis. Still procrastinating on voice training. Still enjoying the safety of doing the bare minimum.

Even if change comes in the end anyways, it is probably best to be less passive than the glacier if you can manage it.

#skelotom tarot #blender #3d art #artists on tumblr #small artist #digital art #transgender #lgbtq #trans

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trashforhockeyguys · 2 days

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Vienna Waits For You -8- William Nylander

“Miss Bradshaw Krietzburg, I think it’s very possible that this will work in our favor.”

“Mr. Jefferies, all due respect, but I need to know that it will work. We’ve combed over every line of these contracts.”

“Is there really no loophole she can exploit?” Jackson questioned, taking a sip of coffee.

“Well, there is one option, although it requires radical action.”

It took Avalyn two months to finally decide to take action against her management team. Jackson was able to hire a lawyer on her behalf, so that her team wouldn’t know anything about it. Together, the three of them met weekly, sometimes more than once, to try to find a way to rid Avalyn of her management.

She hadn’t spoken to William since that night in her apartment. They were like strangers to each other again, only seeing one another when it came to work related functions. But everytime she saw him from across the room, or on the ice during a game, her chest hurt. She missed seeing him all of the time, missed being with him and talking to him.

Jackson walked out of the small office with Ava. Both of them had a day off from filming, although they were nearing a break that would last a few weeks. Production wanted to finalize the first two episodes and present them to the studio to make sure that they’d be allowed to continue before finishing off the season.

“Are you coming to the game tonight?” Jackson asked, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

Jackson had been grasping at straws for weeks, doing everything he could to get Avalyn to show interest in anything. The only thing she could focus on outside of filming, was doing everything in her power to get out from underneath her parents. Everything else was just…nothing to her.

The makeup team had a hell of a time making her look better on screen than she did in real life now. Her cheeks hollowed out a little more again, with large dark circles under her eyes. He knew she didn’t sleep much, or eat more than the bare minimum. She was slipping, and there was little he could do other than keep throwing out a rope and hoping she’d grab it one day.

“No, it's best if I don’t. Besides, I want to make sure I have everything down before the shoot on Monday,” She replied, pulling her coat closer to her body.

“Avey, you have to give yourself a break at some point. You can’t keep working yourself like this.”

She smiled sadly at Jackson, “I keep working so I don’t have time to think.”

He pulled her close, holding her head against his chest in an effort to block out the world, “I wish I could just fix it all for you. God, I wish you didn’t have to deal with any of this anymore.”

She held onto him, feeling relaxed in his arms, “I know. But I’ll be okay Jacks. We’ll find a way out of my contracts.”

She pulled away enough to see his face. Avalyn tried not to pay much attention to the worried look he had, instead she brushed some of his long hair away from his eyes and tried her best to smile, “Go to the game. Have some fun.”

“Promise me you’ll get some sleep?” He seemed to beg her, “Don’t obsess over the scripts all night.”

“I’ll do my best. Now go, I don’t want you to miss anything.” She shooed him away, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

She forces a smile as she makes her way out of the office. For the past month it felt like she couldn't breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. She tried to fight it, but the unbearable pressure from her parents was getting worse.

Jefferies thought that maybe she could sue them for her rights, or something like that. But she was afraid of what would happen if she took things to a court, because of how nasty they could get. She knew first hand how vicious they could be when they wanted to be.

Her phone going off drew her out of her thoughts, she pulled it out of her pocket and answered it without even paying attention to who was calling.

“Avalyn Bradshaw Kiretzburg.”

“Do you always answer your phone that way?”

She feels her shoulders sag at the sound of his voice, slowly breaking down every barrier she spent the last several weeks trying to build. She leaned against the wall in the hallway leading to her apartment. She hadn’t talked to him since that night in her apartment. The news about the show broke, she went on several more talk shows with the cast. Her parents scrambled to make it seem like this was something they approved of. But the reception was incredible, everyone seemed to be excited about the new hockey show hitting streaming services within the year. It made Avalyn incredibly proud to be a part of it.

“Only when I don’t pay attention to who’s calling,” She admitted shyly.

“Ah, so that’s why you picked up,” He laughs, filling her ears with the wonderful sound.

“You know we can’t do this,” she sighed, digging in her pocket for her keys.

“No, I just know you say we can’t,” He rebutted, “I don’t care much about what your parents think.”

“I care too much about you,” She shakes her head, “My dad could have your career ended with a single phone call.”

“Yeah, I don’t buy that,” She can picture his smile as he shakes his head, “Anyway, I wanted to see if you’re coming to the game tonight.”

“You know I won’t be there,” She tells him softly, “It would cause too many questions. Jackson though, he’ll be there with some of the other cast members.”

“So you can’t come because?”

“People are already questioning those pictures of us from a little while back,” She rushed to explain, “I can’t give anyone a reason to look closer. I can’t give them a reason to look at you.”

“So, more of your self preservation bullshit,” He surmised, “Got it.”

“Will-”

“Look, I like you Ava, you know that. But I can’t wait for you to decide to live your life,” He informs her, “You have to make that decision. No one can make it for you.”

“Willy I-”

“I gotta go, game is getting ready to start. Just wanted to hear your voice before I got on the ice.”

She wanted to say more. Wanted to beg for him to wait for you to get out from underneath your parents. She was so close she could taste freedom. She just wasn’t sure how to get it, no matter how badly she wanted it.

So instead she gave it another week, waiting for her next meeting with Mr. Jefferies, when she finally asked what the most radical thing to do would be. He took his time explaining how many moving parts this plan would entail, and how important it was that it go off without a hitch. No one outside of the room could know about it. All she knew is she wanted to be free.

Avalyn wanted to be rid of her parents once and for all. No matter what it might mean for her career. Jackson was ready to talk to his agent and see if they’d be willing to take Avalyn on as a client, provided they would sign an NDA beforehand, so they couldn’t tell anyone else about this either.

She longed to tell William. Longed to tell him that she was trying to live her life to the best of her ability. But she just needed to get through the next month and then everything would be different.

“I’ll need a place to crash, off the grid, once news breaks,” Avalyn stated.

“What about Rose’s place? The homestead with her family?” Jackson questioned, “She’s coming to guest star on the show next week, we can talk to her.”

“I don’t want to drag Ro into this though,” Ava sighs.

“You know she’ll be happy to help. You’ll be safe there, no one even knows where she lives.”

Avalyn sinks further into her seat, knowing her friend was right. Roisin Quinnlyn, or more famously known as Rose Quinn was a famous singer and actress and a good friend of Avalyn and Jackson’s. One of the only ones left after Margot’s tirade. She stuck with them throughout all of it, never once turning her back on them.

Rose was the daughter of Irish immigrant parents, who then brought her grandparents over as well. The family had a homestead of sorts in the state of New York, tucked away where no one really knows. The locals don’t talk about her being there, in fact they protect her in every way that they possibly could.

Avalyn realized it was one of the few places she actually felt at home. Aside from the home she was slowly making for herself here in Toronto.

“Yeah, okay,” She finally agrees, “Make the arrangements.”

Jackson finally relaxes in his chair, knowing his best friend would be free soon. He hated seeing what her parents did to her all of these years. Hated seeing how they broke her down and stole her spirit. He thought some of it had come back when she moved here for the show, but he watched as it slowly disappeared again.

“Good,” Jacks smiled, “I’ll call Rose tonight and see if she’s game. But she hates your parents as much as we do, so I’m sure she’ll be down to cause some trouble.”

“You and Rose only cause trouble,” Avalyn rolled her eyes.

He smiled again, big and bright at her. Showing off his dimples. There was a pang in Avalyn’s chest at the thought that they wouldn’t have to fake date anymore, which meant she wouldn’t see as much of him when they weren’t filming together. She was selfish in the way that she wanted to keep him in her life as much as she possibly could. She loved him, in more ways than one.

“It’ll be good to see her again though,” He adds in, “It’s been a while.”

Rose was just coming off the back of a world tour, which sold out every venue. Avalyn and Jackson were lucky enough to catch one of her shows in LA before she went for her European leg. You were in awe of your friend as you watched her on stage, you loved watching her do what she loved.

“You should talk to Willy,” Jackson said as the two of them made their way back to her apartment, “He really misses you.”

“I know he does,” She said softly, “I miss him too, but I can’t risk his career, not when I’m so close to getting out.”

“So after it’s all over? Will you talk to him then?” He asks.

“I’ll do more than just talk to him,” She admits, “I’ll get on my knees and beg for him.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever begged for anything,” Jackson lets out a laugh.

She shakes her head, “I begged for him before, begged for my parents to leave him alone. It was the first time I tried to get my way with them.”

Jackson wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, “We’ll get you through this. But right now, there are people taking pictures of us, so shut up and kiss me like you love me.”

“I do love you,” She rolled her eyes, but stood on her tiptoes so she could reach his lips.

It didn’t feel the same as kissing William. There was no spark with Jacks. Never had been. Anything they did together, they did because they were made to, or it was just safest to do it with one another. They had sex together because it was safe to do so. The other party wouldn't sell the story or anything. Rose and William were the only ones who knew it even happened.

“I love you,” She forced herself to say overly lovingly.

“I love you too,” There was a hint of sadness in his voice, in his eyes too, “C’mon, let's get you home.”

#nhl imagines #nicolewritesthings #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #hockey fanfiction #william nylander #william nylander imagine #william nylander imagines #william nylander x reader #william nylander x oc #william nylander fanfic #william nylander fan fiction

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fuckyeahisawthat · 20 hours

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Hey ho, have you seen The Creator (2023) yet? Unsubtly about US imperialism, but also really moving, aesthetically stunning (Greig Fraser as DP, oh yeah) and John David Washington killing it in the main role. I was surprised by how much there was to love. xoxo

I fucking LOVED The Creator and kept trying to write something about it here but never managed to collect my thoughts. But yeah what a fucking movie, oh my god. I feel like it kind of got buried by lack of publicity but tbh I am not that surprised because it's one of those movies with politics that make you think how the fuck did they get away with making this.

Gareth Edwards, like Villeneuve, is a director I've been paying attention to for a while now, ever since his 2010 movie Monsters, which was a really impressive low-budget sci-fi with effects that just looked seamless and interesting things to say about borders and the human cost of militarized responses to disastrous events.

And then he did Rogue One and pulled off something very impressive, which is to take one of the most famous sci-fi weapons of our era--the Death Star, a metaphor for nuclear weapons so iconic it has become a symbol in itself--and made it actually fucking scary for the first time in the history of the franchise. And he did it by turning the camera around.

Because the thing is that before this point, we had only ever seen the Death Star from the point of view of the people firing it. The idea of a planet-destroying weapon is intellectually horrifying but we didn't really ever feel it. Because for that we need to see the weapon from the point of view of its victims. It's such a simple but radical shift in perspective, and I feel like Gareth Edwards took that idea from Rogue One and then made it into a whole movie with The Creator.

The Creator, for those unfamiliar with the premise, is about a near-future counterinsurgency war in which the US military is hunting down various forms of AI/android/robot beings. It also features a space-based super-weapon that is eerily beautiful but goddamn fucking terrifying. It was mostly shot in southeast Asia and heavily evokes Vietnam War imagery (as the ending of Rogue One did as well); it is probably about as close to "Vietnam War movie but you're rooting for the Vietnamese" as it is possible to make in the American studio system. The protagonist is still an American soldier (who defects and "goes native" fairly early in the movie) but making him a Black disabled veteran was certainly a Choice. And yes it's John David Washington and he's great in it.

It feels facetious to say The Creator is Reverse Terminator, because it's much richer than that, but it's also kind of fucking true. For the entire movie, the characters are just running for their lives from the implacable and overwhelming destructive force of the US military which is just crushing everything in its path.

The movie does a lot of things that you simply do not see in most American war movies, but the one that stands out to me the most is that in every scene of war violence there are civilians, including children, fucking everywhere. It really threw into relief for me how often American war-action movies create these empty video game environments for soldiers to run around in, where any actual people who might live in the place where the war is happening are at best props and at worst completely absent. (Alex Garland's Civil War, in addition to being terrible in every other conceivable way, is a particularly bad offender at this.) The Creator does what really should be the bare minimum of taking time to showing that these are people whose homes and lives are being destroyed and it is shocking how novel it seems. (There's a line that plays in my head all the time where one of the AI characters says something to the effect of, "Do you know what will happen to the humans when we win this war? Nothing. We simply want to live.") I will also say that this made it a very intense watch in late October 2023 in particular, but it is fiction so we get a very satisfying and cathartic ending. And yes it is an absolutely gorgeous movie, the VFX are mind-blowing, and I found it quite moving.

#asks answered #the creator 2023 #gareth edwards

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tciddaemina · 22 hours

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FUCK ME ALRIGHT SO

i was walking home and this idea hit my like a sack full of bricks and i am now dying. bc okay, fuck, just listen

moshang transformers!au

Shang Qinghua is a depressed millennial on the verge of poverty barely scraping by with two minimum wage jobs, who has a rocky relationship with his parents (separated with new families, neither of whom want him around), with no friends to speak of, who takes pottery making classes in an attempt to have some sort of human connection. He writes in his free time, with the face hopeless aspiration that he could maybe make something of it (it isn't working), struggling every day with the thought of whether or not the world would be better off if he just ended things

Mobei Jun is a high-ranking decepticon general who's crashed on earth and is injured and in hiding, which Shang Qinghua stumbles across in the middle of the night and who (basically) holds Shang Qinghua hostage - threatening to kill him and coercing him into giving him a hiding place

which ends up with broke!freaked out!Shang Qinghua hiring a private garage last second at great cost, to hide this killer robot and him getting threatened/kidnapped/coerced into hiding him and playing lacky, going out and buying extremely suspicious quantities of industrial grade motor oil and shit like that, as he gets even more freaked out about how much money this is chewing through and how he's going to pay rent.

and its basically just suicidal!desperate!millennial v. giant!homocidal!robot

Mobei-Jun: mentions something about being part of an empire of evil robots, with enemies looking for him

Shang Qinghua: wait what do you mean you're the bad guy??? (thinks: oh, actually, maybe all the threatening and murderousness should have tipped him off, whoops)

and ends up with situations with Shang Qinghua accidentally claiming to be king of earth and having to stick to the lie bc-

Mobei-Jun: something something we're going to conqeur this planet-

Shang Qinghua: what? you can't! it's my planet

Mobei-Jun, suspicious: it's yours? the planet belongs to you

Shang Qinghua, sweating, thinking quickly: I- Uh. Yeah. Yeah it's my planet. It belongs to me. You can't conquer it. I- That's the price of me helping you. If you want me to keep doing things for you, then the price is that you have to agree not to mess with my planet.

and Mobei-Jun, who knows enough about humans to know things like monarchies exist, and who comes from a plant once governed by one single planetary body is like- okay, makes sense, and doesn't think on it more.

and basically it's half crack of Shang Qinghua hiding a giant robot fugitive, and complaining that he's getting broke, and Mobei-Jun breaking open an ATM for him, and Shang Qinghua freaking out even more, as Shang Qinghua has to make up increasingly more intricate lies about why nobody else acts like he's king (it's part of our culture, we have, uh- uh, indomitable free will. nobody can tell anyone else what to do, so it would be rude if they acted like i was special) and Mobei-Jun nods along, and then transmits them back to the rest of the decepticons as part of his intel about the planet, which leads to them also thinking Shang Qinghua is king of the planet and-

and it all spirals to Shang Qinghua getting fucked by Mobei-Jun who's decided that actually maybe he's going to keep Shang Qinghua around, and when the whole Decepticon-Autobot (Demon v cultivator) war reaches point as Autobots arrive to try defend the earth, only for there to be a great deal of confusion as Mobei-Jun tells them there isn't an invasion, and actually the Decepticons have parleyed with the local ruler and are here on treaty, so there's no fighting at all

(how was Shang Qinghua supposed to know that an offhanded comment about inaccessible minerals deep below the earth's crust when Mobei-Junw as talking about destroying cities to mine for some rare thing was like, an agreement-)

anyway, it ends with the Autobots very confused, but not able to fight bc technically no one is in danger, and the Decepticons being very smug, and Shang Qinghua stuck in the middle of it just sweating because this all hinges on a truly insane lie that literally any human would be able to tell was total bullshit, and somehow it works

(and also maybe as an aside in a companion fic, Luo Binghe is super head honcho decepticon commander, who absolutely doesn't get Mobei-Jun's weird fetish attraction to this one flesh-bag, except then he sees one too bc enter stage right Shen Yuan, and Luo Binghe goes head over heels, and then there's desperately awkward interactions as Luo Binghe tries to ask Mobei-Jun for details on how one actually goes about fucking a human, which. its just too funny.)

anyway yeah, that's the idea i had while standing there in the street, waiting for the lights

#my writing #fic idea #svsss #transformers au #moshang

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