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#because i very much have other responsibilities LMAO
butch-reidentified · 3 days
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if you think agp is a thing(and presumably exclusive to trans women) what do you think of cis women claiming to masturbate in front of mirrors and CIA women who report being aroused by breastfeeding?
literally every single answer to these questions is available on my blog. I'm tired of writing the same posts over and over and over. if you can't find sufficient answers scrolling my blog, searching key words on my blog (or on google citing my blog, which yields better results oftentimes), going through the links in my pinned, or checking the tags referenced in my pinned, then I'd say if it's reeeeally important to you to get answers, your best bet will be to sit tight and occasionally check for updates to my Pinned as I am gradually adding more and more links detailing my views, and/or skim my blog from time to time - it's pretty much guaranteed to cycle through again within a month at most 🤷
I was actually gonna put a partial (that is to say, just not my usual thorough, detailed, and nuanced) answer at the beginning, but honestly I'm getting VERY tired of anonymous strangers who most likely just stumbled across my blog for the first time today thinking they're entitled to a personalized thinkpiece from me when almost every time I get an ask like this (which are distinctly different from good faith curiosities, which I'm more than happy to answer), I've already posted my answer, I've already written about the subject in depth on my blog. so I'll put my answer below instead so you have to read all of the above first, so you at least sort of vaguely kinda earn some response by putting in a miniscule fraction of the work/time I've put into both reading/informing myself about all sorts of different opinions, ideologies, experiences, perspectives, and views (rather than just demanding opinions from strangers on anon, lmao) and writing countless posts (& that's just on here, ignoring the offline side which is where I'm wayyy more active), which are almost always VERY long and detailed and proofread and edited and polished several times over.
btw, kind of a side note -- I have NEVER sent a single anon in my life, and I have NEVER, anonymously or not, demanded someone give me a personalized just-for-me explanation of their opinions (or any at all). the reason I call this entitlement is because you (most likely) aren't asking out of genuine curiosity or good faith. you (most likely) are asking because you dislike what you think my views are (you are most likely misinformed and think I believe things I do not) and you (most likely) think this is some kind of gotcha rather than the same ignorant, unoriginal, boring ass points that I've read countless times as far back as when I was a transactivist and trans-identifying myself. they've been debunked/responded to by a LOT of other women, too, and I'm very confident you could easily find at least one such response. I'm not holding you to a standard I don't also hold myself to; in fact, that I'm going to give you any degree of actual answer at all is demonstrative of my holding myself to a HIGHER standard. because again, nothing I'm about to say on this topic is just now in this post being born into the universe as a novel thought. or even a novel tumblr post; like I said, you could find the radfem answers to this ask yourself with just a tiny bit of effort - and while radfems are far from a monolith, and I am a frequent vocal dissenter on a variety of radblr hot topics, this isn't even really a matter of opinion. read on to find out why.
Part A - Not answering the questions here per se, but a clarification of terminology that may help you (any reader, not necessarily anon) see my perspective:
The word "cis" has different definitions. It used to mean someone who is not trans, whereas trans referred to sex-dysphoric transitioners, a demographic who now often prefer terms like transsexual or transsex or simply "sex-dysphoric" BECAUSE they don't agree with gender identity ideology (GII) and object to the way GII has been actively hostile to them and erased transsexuality (and thus their identities, needs, beliefs, and experiences as well), similarly to the ways in which GII engages with pretty much everything that isn't complete and total blind allegiance. These include but are far from limited to:
1. Obfuscating people's (especially children's/young adults' - as they are the primary consumers of most GII content by far) understanding of biology, particularly as it pertains to the sexes of human beings and sexual dimorphism, and inserting "gender identity" as a direct (but importantly not synonymous or remotely parallel) replacement for the material and biological reality of sex. Sex, absent patriarchy and the gender construct, is simply a neutral and factual categorization of human beings: sex categorizes human body types according to the two developmental pathways that evolved solely for the purpose of producing one gamete type or the other to enable perpetuation of the species via sexual reproduction. What this statement does NOT imply to anyone reading it with even an ounce of integrity/intellectual honesty: "women are defined by having babies," "infertile/childfree adult female humans are not women," "humans with anomalous sexual development of any variety are not male or female, but rather a 3rd sex or even proof sex is a spectrum," or anything along these lines; I refer to these arguments as intellectually dishonest because they are originally intentional (disinformation -> misinformation) misinterpretations & serve to moralize, dogmatize, and essentially theologize facts of nature.
This obfuscation of biology is committed via a variety of tactics that frequently include outright gaslighting; "gender and sex are different" turned into "sex is actually a spectrum" (it's not - read on to learn why not!) and then outright science denial while gaslighting others as being the unscientific, uneducated, "3rd grade understanding of biology" ones (again, this is simply factually not true*).
*Feel free to request to see a peer-reviewed neuroscience journal publication bearing my name and/or my thesis (original research regarding the overlapping genetics + epigenetics of norepinephrine dysregulation in both dysautonomia and attention deficit disorders) if you are skeptical of my credentials regarding biology. alternatively, feel free to cite your sources and I will provide a free-of-charge peer review service :)
2. Building from #1, the erasure of patriarchal sex-based oppression of women & girls (by definition: human beings of the female sex, adults & children respectively) via aforementioned tactics obfuscating sex biology & human biology in favor of an innate, internal "gender identity" which is extremely poorly defined with the individual "gender identities" themselves left utterly non-delineated. Gender identity ideology is to be taken entirely on pure faith, despite the fact that there is absolutely no evidence to support gender identity as a universal component of human beings/universal human experience. In fact, the existence of absolutely any nonzero quantity of human beings who do not experience gender identity firmly disproves it as universal human experience - and we know not all humans have a gender identity. However, every human being experiences sexual development, be it typical, disordered (DSDs, congenital infertility, etc), or otherwise anomalous; the vast majority experience typical sexual development, and one's sex is entirely clear in the vast majority of atypical cases as well. Female humans are oppressed on the basis of our biological reproductive capabilities; patriarchy desires control over the female sex as a direct product of its desire to control reproduction. Patriarchy created the gender construct to instill and enforce a caste system between the sexes upholding the patriarchal dogma of male supremacy and female inferiority. Similarly, patriarchy created father-gods in order to make the creation of life a male act. Erasure of sex in favor of the gender construct serves male supremacy and cannot ever be anti-patriarchal or feminist. Evidence of sex based oppression abounds offline (frankly, you need look no further than menstruation stigma in all its forms up to and including menstrual huts, but there is infinitely more evidence) and right here on my blog as well; I even have some posts tagged to serve as proof of sex based oppression.
3. Erasing homosexuality via working toward erasure of exclusive same-sex attraction (this is particularly targeted at lesbians, and this is VERY well documented. I have many examples of this in my TRA Receipts tag, including a particularly excellent masterpost containing, in total iirc THOUSANDS of screenshots), once again replacing sex with "gender identity" as if one's orientation being defined as attraction to another human's invisible, internal, and highly individual "gender identity," which not all humans even purport to have in the first place, could possibly make any sense. This is uniquely absurd.
As stated in the 2nd link in #1 on my Pinned, I object to the usage of "cis" for non-trans-identifying people. Why? At the core of it, because the most commonplace definition of "cis"/'cisgender" that I see at this point in time is "having a gender identity that aligns with what was assigned at birth." As stated above, gender identity is not universal, rendering "cisgender" equally as personal and internal of an identity label as "transgender" - and these are not a pure dichotomy by any means. Radical feminism does not grant any degree of objective factual legitimacy to the gender construct; thus, no radical feminist is or can be, by definition, transgender or cisgender (this does not carry over to whether or not radfems can have dysphoria or even be medically transitioned). Radfems are not the only humans without "gender identities," and it is dishonest and disrespectful to force the term/label onto everyone else according to an ideology we/they may not share.
Part B - The Long-Awaited Answer! [I changed my mind since this ended up significantly longer than initially planned so here ya go]
Autogynephilia was coined as a term with a specific definition. That definition is still the same one in use today. That definition explicitly states that only males can qualify. That definition is: "a paraphilia that describes when a man experiences sexual arousal from the thought of himself as a woman" per Google, and "a male's propensity to be sexually aroused by the thought of himself as a female" per Blanchard's original stated intention for the term he created. Wikipedia goes on to add "intending for the term to refer to 'the full gamut of erotically arousing cross-gender behaviors and fantasies.'"
I have many criticisms of Blanchard himself and of the quality of his research methodologies. However, the evidence for the existence of the paraphilia itself is abundant and undeniable given that many males outright refer to themselves as autogynephiles and many have openly discussed their experiences as someone with this paraphilia. What I do not believe is that all trans-identifying males are AGPs, that there is proven legitimacy to the HSTS/AGP dichotomy (even Blanchard himself said not all OSA trans-identifying males are AGPs - just a whole lot of them), or that non-trans-identifying males can't be AGPs - actually I think it's likely that most AGPs don't identify as transgender.
The core of the paraphilia, the source of the arousal, is a product of the patriarchal sex caste system; autogynephiles are aroused by the idea of themselves as women - as they themselves have stated - because of the sexual objectification of femaleness and/or because they're aroused by degradation and humiliation (as is blatantly obviously on brilliant display in the existence of and obsession with "forced feminization" and similar female-degrading sexual concepts), and the AGP male views femaleness and the gender that patriarchy has forcibly ascribed to femaleness ("femininity") as inferior and thus sees his engagement in performing femininity as degrading - which in turn sexually excites him.
One reason some women find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states is the same as when men find themselves arousing in their own bodies and natural non-performative states: self-confidence increases libido and associations can be made between A and B. Where women and men inevitably differ, however, is about the arousal surrounding performing femininity and/or sexual self-objectification. It is not at all unreasonable to speculate that some women can be turned on when they "feel hot" for a reason other than just self-confidence; for one speculative example, it's possible that some women may see herself in the mirror all dressed up in hypersexualized clothing and feel that they've succeeded in mirroring the pornified images and sexually-appealing-to-males beauty expectations. Ultimately, this is self-objectification. It's patriarchy and the male gaze that have forced these associations onto all of society, and hypersexual associations have a tendency of causing sexual arousal in people (duh).
Oh and I've never heard of women being aroused by breastfeeding, only complaining about it being painful asf, but like. Nipples are among the most common and well-documented non-genital erogenous areas so? This seems terribly unlikely to be a common phenomenon, but utterly irrelevant to the existence of autogynephilia regardless lol. If this is a thing, like I said I doubt it's commonplace at all, but even just hypothetically, I'd say it would distinctly fall in line with everything else I say in this answer. Patriarchy and its pornographers have indeed sexualized breastfeeding - there are a concerning number of men who ask their partners NOT TO BREASTFEED their babies - his own children! - because it makes him JEALOUS and even resent the baby. I'm dead serious you can look this up, it happens. So... read on for elaboration.
I neither know nor care precisely what you're referencing in this ask, because the answer remains the same: autogynephilia by definition can only affect males, and males who have a fetish for the idea of themselves as female, be that through imagining themselves Fucked (anatomically female, specifically in a sexually objectified - aka Fucked - manner; the anatomical/biological form of autogynephilia fetishizes the male subject imagining himself as the female Fucked object of pornography) or Feminine (as discussed above) fundamentally are not and cannot be the same as women who are turned on by feeling like they look sexually appealing or by their own natural anatomy or biological functions (which have been violently hypersexualized by patriarchy). This is a form of internalized misogyny; when men do it, it's just misogyny. These are not the same.
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rius-cave · 1 day
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Idea for an interaction between Luci and Adam
Lucifer: You used to be so kind and happy. So full of life and wonder. What ever happened to you?
Adam, seething: YOU happened to me, damnit! How do you not see that? You STOLE my first wife! You CORRUPTED my second wife with your shitty fuckin APPLE! You condemned all of humanity, all of my descendants, to a life of toil and suffering, all cuz the Big Plan wasn't fucking good enough for you!
And then, you left me! You left US! Left us to deal with the mess that you created! You are the reason for everything that has ever gone wrong in my life! You're the reason I doubted if Cain was my child! You are the reason Cain killed Able! And YOU are the REASON I was alone in Heaven!
Lucifer, looking mortified: W... What was that last part?
Adam, hysterical: You really didn't know?! Oh, what a fucking joke this is! Yeah, they didn't let Eve in because she committed the first sin. But she wasn't bad enough for Hell, so they basically just... Erased her.
*Adam feels his chest*
Adam: But, hey, at least I got my rib back.
Lucifer: Adam, I-
Adam: Able never got into Heaven cuz they hadn't created the Winner system yet. Cain's still wandering the Earth. I'm not allowed to talk to him. Not allowed to tell him that I forgive him, despite how much I hate what he did to his brother, because the angels fear that my forgiveness would undo his curse.
All of my other children, and all of their children, and so on, are just... MIA. The angels don't know what happened to them. Up until the big J-man came about, there were, like, clerical errors or something. They could be in heaven, and just not realize we're related. Or they could have been in hell, and killed in an extermination. I have nothing, Lucifer. My existence is hollow.
Huh! These are some interesting headcanons about the whereabouts of Adam's family! I have to say I haven't thought much about them, cause idk, I have no purpose for them yet personally. But wow, these hit hard. Eve was just erased????? fuckin yikes :(
Cain still wandering the Earth is also really interesting, is he there as like, an immortal human? Is he a ghost lol? Is he just dead but he can't enter Heaven or Hell like... uh... well a ghost i suppose lmao.
To me it would feel like most of Adam's family just doesn't wanna see him anymore, regardless if they're in Heaven or Hell, but them being just... lost is also an interesting possibility.
Also. ouchie. About that whole exchange. No matter how silly of a guy Lucifer is, he is definitely still the Devil and very much responsible for most of humanity's suffering lol
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birbs-in-space · 1 year
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curious about what's in store for you for 2024? :D
Let AO3 decide!
(Updated from 2023: Up-to-date tag bank, opt-in tag categories, optional dark mode! As always: proceed with informed consent.)
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radelenagreco · 4 months
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i'm #newtoradblr i've spent so much time these past two weeks scrolling through radfem blogs i knew i had to make an actual radfem side of tumblr blog for my own sanity. the way i "peaked" is kinda funny 3-4 months ago i liked a radfem post without realizing and all of a sudden i had other radfem posts recommended to me by the algorithm and i was so annoyed because i was very anti-terf etc but for a couple days i read through a bunch of radfem blogs and it was actually such a relief to encounter FEMINISM not some watered down version of it but i felt guilty due to 5+ years of conditioning (and also because i had a nonbinary friend sitting right next to me in class as i was doing this) and i also didn't like the prominent use of the word moid? but anyway, 3 months later, i'm not sure why but the mra nature of the trans movement has grown so much more apparent to me i have like three mutuals who are trans men on my other blog and i would find myself rereading the few feminist posts i would reblog/write because these people are literally reblogging shit like "don't think like a terf. men aren't your oppressors, they're your friends/neighbors/brothers/fathers. if you think that any man could harm you you have been fooled by terf rhetoric" like actual morons/meninists. anyway two weeks ago i saw a post made by someone i knew was a radfem on my twitter tl and i don't know why i knew i was ready i went through her blog and through many others and now here i am.
#still dislike the word moid i know it's in response to 4chan people saying shit like femoid but it reads too much like a racist slur for me#to be cool with people saying it#i don't mean it reads like a racist slur towards men i mean it's way too reminiscent of the word negroid#it really made me think people were right about radical feminism being a gateway to being a conservative because...it literally feels#racist to me lmao i don't think i'll ever like it#gonna go follow the few blogs i followed on my main + others now#and i was actually always pretty radical in my feminism i was never what one would call a libfem i just wasn't A RadFem because i was into#the whole trans thing#it's different when you're not on tumblr/not exclusively interacting with trans people on the internet. people taking such an issue with#feminism and claiming that its most basic aspects (men oppress women) are transphobic and terf rhetoric is really only a thing on tumblr#and in those circles it's especially different when you're not talking in english#and i'm pretty sure everyone i follow on twitter supports trans people but the mra nature of trans right activism just has not hit them the#way it has hit tumblr they're still very normal about feminism it's actually so nice to go there and say i hate men with no caveat#the only people who would bother me if they came across my tweets saying that would be: cis men misogynists and people on the far right in#general#crazy that on tumblr it's the most leftist people i'd have to worry about hahaha...#ipost
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singsweetmelodies · 8 months
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🙄
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orcelito · 1 month
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I've been following that AITA blog for a bit now and it has me thinking about my own life situations with conflict and drama. A passive "do I have anything I could submit to that blog?" But upon thinking about it, it's like... I really find no value in asking strangers whether I'm "the asshole" in situations. There are situations where I'm clearly not at fault, situations where I was a little shit but it was justified, and at least one situation where I have a definite "Oh yeah, I was definitely the asshole there". All in the past, so it's not like I'd even need advice or anything. I already know, so what's the point?
Maybe it stems from me being a generally self-aware and self-confident kind of person. I know what's going on with myself, know when I've wronged people, & I have a mentality of "well, I'll try to not do that in the future." Even if I feel a little guilty thinking back, what's the point of asking after something when I know I'm at fault? Or situations where things were complicated and both people had fault in things, but I know I wasn't being shitty on purpose & that's what matters to me. Ultimately, it results in a bunch of strangers drawing conclusions about things I really don't care about outside input on.
Still love reading the blog tho. There's something about reading up on random people's life drama that satisfies that gossipmonger soul in me So well.
#speculation nation#i think the most blatantly YTA thing id get is when i ghosted that guy i was seeing back when i was 20 or so#wasnt ever actually dating but i made it sound like i would. very much led him on.#then realized i just wasnt into cishet guys At All and dropped him out of nowhere bc i was 20 and didnt know how to deal with feelings#objectively it was a pretty awful thing for me to do. and i feel bad that i did it.#have i ever tried to reach out and apologize tho? no lmao#it happened so long ago now i feel like itd bring more animosity than relief anyways.#id like to think ive learned from it tho. Dont Date People Just For The Hell Of It.#god it rly is my romantic history where im the biggest asshole. my prior girlfriend too#i do feel bad about that. i never meant to hurt her but that sure is what i did.#it was better to break it off when i did. wouldve been better had i did it earlier but oh well.#then as a teenager and my whole fucked up romance life then...#but NO LONGER!!!!!!!! hopefully lol. im rly into my current girlfriend and after my last one ive been dedicated to. not do that again.#cant date people just because im bored. that's never ended well for me.#i learned my lesson this time for SURE!!!!!#anyways yea id say more constently id be The Asshole in these situations. but im only human man it happens.#other situations it's usually just fucked up situations with me being a toxic little shit in response bc it's all i knew.#idk. community voting doesnt matter to me. learning from my prior mistakes and shortcomings is what matters to me.#it's interesting to see the blog tho. people are insecure about some of the most trivial things sometimes...
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tardis--dreams · 1 year
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My favorite thing is people saying something like "I hope you're feeling a little better now?" when i have to admit i couldn't do something due to health issues. Like. I don't. But for the sake of not making this awkward, yes of course i feel a lot better now
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hauntedpearl · 2 years
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#I'm thinking about like. how anxiety can cripple my articulation again like. when put on a spot. i don't feel like j express myself as well#as i can. and then i feel guilt over it especially when people end up picking irresolvable arguments with me because i feel like i#overexplain myself and the other party just straight up categorizes me as the Bad Person ahdgjskd which makes me more anxious aggsjddk#(yes this is about the thing i elft tumblr for in part but not fully. like ik it's been three months but it was v traimatizing lmao)#(like every time i start thinking about it i know im on the brink of an anxiwty attack again and then i just. shut down ahgshdke FUN IT'S#SO FUN!!!)#anyway. my point is. im very. like. careful with how i curate my space on other social media because i feel like there's ~ c l o u t ~#involved and it's also some weird sense of obligation that i can't shake. i put it down to self-importance honestly bc i don't have a big#platform or anything but i feel like even the ability to influence someone in a small way is like. RESPONSIBILITY.#with tumblr i dont feel that responsibility. i don't actively follow people who are spouting hate or have beliefs which are honestly#really fucking outrageous. like. terfs can die i wouldn't feel bad. samr for racists lmao. or nazis. the usual fodder right#but i tolerate aphobia to an extent. bc *I'm* ace and ive interacted with the group#and most of them never actively say anything. the ones who do are ignored but others im like. i will take yoir jokes but nothing else.yk??#it's a strange system but it's very stress-free for me and i curate it that way for whatever reason#even now i feel like I'm not expressing myself properly. like.. it's not about agreeing with a certain belief. it's about my personal level#of comfort/discomfort. and how much im able to tolerate from a person before i say enough is enough.#also i can't bring myself to like block people bc again weird problems but i curate carefully enough that that's never a problem for me#all this bc i saw some post about kids being afraid to consume certain media bc they're afraid of being ousted from their social circles &#LIKE YEAH. I MEAN. IT HAPPENS FR. AND IT HURTS LIKE HELL? SO??.#HMM ANYWAY. i don't even post desinatural anymore that used to be my thing it makes me so sad :(#personal lmao.#dony even reply to this this is Nonsense ™#i have friends outside i am okay it's just a trigger so im ranting#bYE
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nouearth · 4 months
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my favorite scent is you.
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bruce wayne x male reader.
summary: bruce needs to be taken care of too (in which reader believes it's through the form of sex).
wc: 3.5k. genre: smut, angst (kinda?). warnings: top!bruce, consensual!somnophilia, blowjobs, slow mouth-fucking, fondling, reader is asleep, bruce and reader are the same age, reader also grew up with bruce, mentions of parental death, trauma-bonding.
notes: it's been a while since i've done a brucey smut (and also fulfilled a request), so here ya go! actually my first time writing about somnophilia, so be easy on me, lmao. it was harder than i thought! also i'm trying a new layout,,, kinda, don't mind me.
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“Do you remember that night? When my parents… you know.”
It had been a little less than a decade, but the uneasiness you felt when mentioning your parents’ death was akin to hovering your palm above an open flame. The flicker of the heat frightened you. Though, you couldn’t help but feel magnetic towards it—closer and closer—until you felt a strike to your calloused hand.
Just a little more, and you’ll break free.
It was striking how your wounds maintained their novelty. Years of skin hardening, scabbing and layering over the memory of Bruce breaking the news to you on that night, and the slightest mention of your parents tore it open with little defiance.
“Yeah…” Bruce whispered, and a sudden impulse to hold you prevailed over him. He turned over on his side, slipping his arms over and under your frame, and pulled your back flushed to his chest. You eased with a melting squirm, a physical gratitude, and then another when you pressed a kiss to his forearm. “It was supposed to be Alfred telling you, but I insisted.”
“Really?” Your curiosity was piqued and you felt Bruce nod into the crown of your head, breathing you in deep like his favourite cologne. A scent he’d never wear himself because it matched you perfectly. “How come?”
“Well, I had no one other than Alfred when my parents died. He tried his best, but we barely had time to grieve. A bunch of responsibilities were bestowed upon him overnight; my parents’ estate, numerous paperworks, the press and media, not to mention the funeral service. It was… a lot for him.”
Bruce sighed, squeezing you tighter for support as he continued. “I remember reading—signing off things that I knew nothing about the very next day.” He then laughed, a bitterness surfing for air in the bass of his voice. “I didn’t even have a signature yet.”
“I’m sorry…” A heaviness sank you and Bruce deeper into the mattress. You latched onto Bruce’s arm for support, held him gently, and found levity through the brush of his lips, as if he was saying—consoling you through the black void: I’m here, I’m here. 
“Is that why you guys hired my parents?”
“Mm-hm, we needed help around the manor while Alfred had bigger duties to tend to. And I’m glad he suggested the idea as much as I was apprehensive about it. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have met such an incredible family. A year became two, then another two, then another, and…” Bruce recalled the sounds, the visions of red and blue flashing—blaring into the sky.  “Which was why I thought it would be best if it came from me. So I could be that someone that I desperately needed during my grieving.”
“You shouldn’t have been thinking about that though… I mean, what—we were only fifteen? Coming from your background, you should’ve been… cocky, annoying, emo, selfish, like every other teenager.
“I guess your personality kind of compensated for that—” He amused himself with some levity.
“Hey!” You choked out a laugh, then lightly elbowed his stomach behind you. “Ass.”
“Ow,” Bruce pressed a smile to the back of your head, inhaling your scent again. “I did have that emo phase though.”
“Oh yeah—” Within his hold, you turned your body to meet Bruce face-to-face as a flood of memories came rushing in. You greeted him with a smile that he was able to single out from within the dark. Then, he made sure your presence was acknowledged with a chaste kiss. 
“Your hair came down to your nose and stuff—oh! And you kept wearing the same hoodie too.” 
“Yeah, okay—we get it. Not my best look.” He groaned, tearing himself away from you as your descriptions of Bruce suddenly developed into powerfully cringe-inducing memories. As embarrassing as the past was, he was glad it brought you some kind of merriment. He’d been scolded multiple times by numerous people, though namely Alfred, to treat you better.
You and Bruce weren’t always close. In all honesty, it took your parents’ death that empowered you two to stick together more than ever. Where darkness used to storm over the roof of the manor, you and Bruce managed to conjure a light that illuminated a path to find sanctuary within each other.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” The moonlight reflecting through the bedroom window casted shadows across Bruce’s profile. Wrinkles you’ve never noticed before were accentuated; eye-bags that you’ve been nagging at him to take care of deepened; glimpses of a boy who was forced to grow up. 
He turned when you reached over to trace over the spotlighted features. A single digit caressed the bumpy bridge of his nose; the stubble that tickled you whenever you kissed; the cut over his broad chin that was your favorite spot to kiss,; the scar over his left cheek that had been healing for months, only to restart the process again after Bruce’s late night endeavors.
“Let me take care of you now.”
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You weren’t sure how Bruce took your proposal. Recalling the moment had you adding unnecessary details that all-the-more exploded the situation into a narrative you couldn’t exactly trust.
Wait… he made a weird face when I told him. I remember a face! No, idiot—he just had an itch on his cheek. Oh.
I don’t remember his phone ringing… You think he was trying to get out of the conversation? Maybe? He usually has his phone set on the loudest volume possible…
Oh god, he probably thinks I’m some kind of sex-crazed addict. Well, aren’t you— No?! I just—wanted to take care of him… We rarely see each other these days and I doubt the lunches I’d make for him add much to that narrative. I needed something more. Wow, I’ve been talking to myself for this long?
You probably look crazed, especially if someone were to walk in the bedroom at this moment, but you’d be too deep into your thoughts to hardly notice. If you did notice, you’d probably go on a tangent about how Bruce was probably disgusted by how you could even suggest a thing like that.
Your toes and fingers curled at the recollection you were certain happened.
“So… I know you’ve been out late at night—” “(M/N), it’s not what you—” “Shh, I’m too good of a catch for you to cheat on me.” “I mean, keep that cockiness up and maybe—” “Excuse me?!” “I’m joking.” “Uh-huh, well, keep joking and I might have to rescind my offer.” “Your offer?” “Look, I haven’t seen you much lately. It’s not your fault. You’re busy.” “I know—I just need to deal with this…” “Bruce, you look—you are tired. You’re overworked and whenever we do spend time together, you’re asleep!” “I’m trying my b—” “You’re trying your best, I know! And I don’t know what you do at night, not sure if I do want to know, but… two-three hours of sleep is not enough. You’re killing your body.” “Hm…” “And one day, you’re going to crack and I just…” “Just..?” “I’m not sure how to… put it.” “What is it?” “If you want to… and it’s entirely up to you, but…” “Jesus, spit it out—” “I— if I’m still asleep, and you want to somehow… relieve your stress..?” “Oh—” “I’m all yours.”
The second hand on the clock cycled slower, almost as if it was mocking you for being so desperate, impatient, and doubting. Yet, at the same time—if clocks could have a personality—there was a dormant kindness in the rhythm of the minute hand striking every corner of the wheel. Gentle and soothing, the lids of your eyes grew heavier with every passing second as the sound of the clock counted sheeps for you.
Forty, forty-one… fourty-two… Forty… three…
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The floor creaked despite Bruce’s best efforts to remain light on his feet. You’ve always been a light sleeper, even at the sound of wind whistling you’d jolt up to, but surprisingly—nothing. 
As he approached his side of the bed, his eyes settled on you like always. To Bruce, it was a sweet sigh of relief to come back home to you again. Sometimes, a miracle depending on the crimes of that night. Nightly patrols have taken a toll on him; on his body, on his mentality; but being in your presence always—no matter what—brought him back to the solitude his life was at before being laboured by vengeance.
Coldly, he sat on the edge, careful to not wake you, as he dried off the damp strands of his washed hair with a towel. Then, he chased after the tremors off his bare body with several rubs of the coarse towel, gathering water molecules into the material until he was somewhat dry. It was the typical nightly routine of Bruce Wayne, in which he was guilty of vacating you of.
Bruce witnessed—took part in—how you ended your night. A late night snack, a book, a tv show—and he’d stroke your hair to the sound of his heartbeat until you were out like a light. He’d never forget to kiss your forehead as if it was an enchantment that would guard him for the rest of the night. Naively, Bruce was apprehensive of the subtle chance of reducing his survival rate if he were to miss a night of seeing you—touching you. Even if you had the biggest argument with him, even if you were in the wrong, he’d make sure to see you one last time before escaping into the shadows, saving the city—saving you.
After dressing himself in a fresh set of briefs, the soft cushions of his bed and pillows enticed him back into sanctuary. He crawled back into bed and instinctively found his arms around your body, warm and full against the recovering bruises against his own flesh. Skipping dinner was a norm, but he felt satiated when he could hear you breathe, feel your pulse, and watch you writhe within his doting affection.
“Goodnight.” Bruce muttered as he nestled his nose into your hair, another deep inhale of your scent to ground him that you were still present in his life. And then another as his head turned towards your neck, a familiar smell that taunted him to lean closer until his nose pressed softly into the crook of your skin.
White musk.
The top note of his favourite cologne on you. It lingered delightfully in Bruce’s nostrils, and there was a reason why he always urged you to spray it on date nights. It was intoxicating.
Come to think of it, Bruce’s night routine hadn’t completely checked off all of his tasks for the night. After he would come home, it was a no-brainer to shower off the sweat, dirt, and sometimes blood, from his patrols. He would scrape his hair clean with the shampoo suds, mint and cooling on his scalp. Then he’d move onto his body. The suds would trickle down his torso, gather in his muscles, and he’d add onto the bubbles with his body wash, lathering himself from head to toe. And almost always, the slightest brush of his length would break the restraints the night had locked his sanity behind. It was always you that managed to free him. As he would squeeze himself, fondle his sack while the suds dribbled down his leg and feet, he’d think of you—miss you in ways he wouldn’t dare to ignore, ways in which he was ashamed to desert you of.
“I’m all yours.” Your proclamation echoed, ran marathons in Bruce’s mind as the white musk led him astray. The simple thought of him taking advantage of you guilted him, churned his stomach until it was bundled into thick knots, but it made his heart race.
“(M/N)?” He whispered. The bed creaked when Bruce peered over you, and he was met by silence. A few soft snores joined the ticking of the clock, but for the most part, silence.
I shouldn’t… Bruce convinced himself. It was�� shameful to even think of taking advantage of you like that—in your unconscious state, in your vulnerability. You looked peaceful in your slumber and knowing how hard you worked, he wouldn’t dare to ruin it because of his own selfish desires.
He sighed, rolling flat onto his back again, hoping the uncomfortable ache in his briefs would settle down in a minute or so. When it didn’t, Bruce tended to it with a brief re-adjustment of the way his length stood. Then again as he twitched in defiance.
Again, as he throbbed.
And again, when his briefs couldn’t support his throbbing erection anymore. 
Bruce turned his head to the side, scanning your unconscious state. His eyes traced the languid form of your body as it sank deep into the mattress, hugging the air to your body while he slowly pulled the blanket off of you.
The bed creaked as inch by inch, Bruce scooted closer to you, turning back to lie on his side and nearly spooning you again. His movements were sluggish, apprehensive to wake you, but at the same time, there was an adrenaline rush surging through him knowing he could be caught any second (despite your permission).
His hand felt it as it caressed your arm in singular, docile strokes. Then his breath, as he leaned closer, pressing himself against you again, and slipped a hand under your shirt. Your bare stomach rested warmly against his calloused palm, and he felt your breath hitch, your stomach tensed, every evidence of your presence, as Bruce ran a palm upwards to touch your chest once, then back down to bravely slither under the waistband of your boxers.
“Fuck…” Bruce’s breath unevened, struggling to keep a steady rhythm, when his palm gently groped a handful of your flaccid cock, a complete opposite of the shameful erection he was prodding near your bottom. You writhed once, and he quickly paused with a shudder as you suddenly turned to lie on your back, smacking the dryness in your throat away as you drove yourself into deeper slumber.
He found it unusual how you haven’t awakened by now, but the cynical part of him pleaded for you to remain asleep—until he had his way with you.
Gently, Bruce lifted your hips to pull down the remainder of your boxers off until you were bare in all of your glory before him. Your balls lay briefly in between your legs before they were back to being fondled in his warm palms. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this…”
Droplets of sweat formed over Bruce’s hairline as he sluggishly maneuvered himself to kneel over your unconscious state. His thighs hardened, flexed as he maintained his balance over you. He stroked his cock with his free-hand; to the gentle snores you poured out, to your slightly parted lips that he could easily spread open with his girth, and to his surprise, to the stiffness of your cock as it stirred awake from his constant fondling.
What are you dreaming about? Are you dreaming of me? Are you dreaming of being fucked by me? Bruce groaned as he witnessed the once softened features of your face stiffened into diffident lust. Your breath unknowingly quickened when Bruce began stroking your cock together with his in one grasp. Your body writhed with uncomfortable pleasure as if you wanted whatever was happening to you to stop, yet the throbbing veins of your cock begged Bruce for more—to hold you for longer, to keep doing as he pleased.
Bruce forgot what it was like to have you like this; to have you squirming beautifully beneath him, dripping in heavy pre-cum while simultaneously having your cock lathered in his own fluid. He was enticed by your every movement, squirming and writhing confined by the state of slumber as you couldn’t stop him. You couldn’t stop the uncomfortable pleasure that was happening to you because you were dreaming a dream that refrained you from resisting your boyfriend.
I know you want it. Fuck… I know you want my cum, (M/N). He paused briefly to press his forehead into yours, sweat dripping off his face and onto your body in his maneuver, and breathed languidly against your lips to find the parting in order to breathe his lewd thoughts into you. Bruce was careless, dangerously brave as he slipped a tongue inside of you to spread your mouth open further. You made a sound, but he muted it with a swallow as he ravished you like honey on a spoon. Remnants of mint lingered on his tongue, and as much as he wanted to continue tasting you, he needed to relieve himself.
He was close.
Carefully, he dragged himself over your chest and kneeled over your chest. Bruce’s cock hung heavy above your slumber, dripping in thick strings of pre-cum from the plump tip—a shameful exhibit of how much this had turned him on, how much he had been deprived of this act for so long.
Open wide. It was morbid. Bruce never thought himself of ever once doing this obscene act, but the guilt that had been the cause of his apprehension was only fleeting the moment he pushed his cock into your sleeping mouth. 
“Oh, fuck…” He was careful with you. Careful enough to not stir you awake, but courageous enough to fulfill his sense of greed. Bruce pushed deeper, and deeper until he couldn’t anymore. His thick cock steadied your breathing and in favor, your saliva warmed him with complete gratitude.
Come on, I know you can take it… His eyes darkened at your inability to take his girth. As much as it sounded like a threat, it drove him delirious knowing you couldn’t. Even in your waking moments, it fueled a sense of pride when you gagged on his cock, covered him in bubbly thick spittle, and looked like an absolute mess while attempting to swallow him again.
Fuck, (M/N)... You’d pull him out when you had enough of gagging on his cock and jerk him off instead, catching your breath in the midst of it all. He never told you, but it was Bruce’s favourite part whenever you two did this together. The pure lust in your eyes, craving for a fill that you and him both know that he would deliver upon greatly. And somehow, as lewd as the act was, you both knew it was more than sex. You and Bruce were making love, fucking with a craving that you only have for each other because it was only you two that could bring this type of pleasure to one another. 
“Fuck—” Bruce paced himself, biting back an adamant moan, thrusting slow yet filling into your mouth as he held onto the headboard. The scrape of your teeth made him hiss, but the pleasure of your warm mouth was so fulfilling that it overwhelmed any painful feeling you’ve prescribed him to.
I’m close, (M/N)... Fuck, let me cum on you… On your body, on your face, I want it everywhere on you.
He released his cock from your mouth and took the heavy girth into his own palm, pumping the muscle with a sudden vigor that had been motivated to see you covered in his fluids. Bruce’s eyes rolled back into his lids, panting heavy and harder because he was so close—so fucking close. He could see you sticking your tongue out for him, on your knees, playing with your cum-covered cock as you would wait patiently for his reward. You would begin begging for it—his cum, his cock, him. You’d worship his body, mouthing at his toned thighs, then his abdominal muscles, licking the sweat off the gutters to briefly satiate your appetite for Bruce.
Until you were gifted with his indulgent desire for you and only you in the form of thick and creamy white ropes. “I’m comin—” Bruce’s stomach sucked in hard, his abs contracting while his thighs vibrated with tremors, then with a guttural push, he released himself with a strong grunt. His grasp directed his thick and heavy loads towards your chest and stomach, stroking his throbbing cock through the glorious sprays. He sucked in his teeth to control the sounds that were threatening to burst out of his throat and whimpered with a shudder when it was unmanageable, continuing to empty his balls until he could smell the heavy sex and musk off your body.
Scanning you from head to toe, Bruce was breathless. Despite his delirious stint, it was impressive to see you drifting off to sleep like nothing had happened. Or rather, it was impressive that he had a certain amount of control to not completely make love to you like a wild mammal, rousing you from sleep.
Nonetheless, he powered through the overwhelming need to sleep to clean you up, even if you hadn’t mind the mess. And like always, he never forgot to end his night with a kiss, pressing a chaste yet breathless pant to your lips.
“Think your way of ‘taking care of me’ needs more time in the workshop , but we’ll talk about it later.” 
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nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!
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apclyptc · 6 months
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DUMB— chris sturniolo x reader
synopsis: reader is smart and top of her class in college. chris however, is not too interested in her intelligence.
warnings: full on smut, swearing and also drinking/smoking, use of the pet name baby, use of the word slut, dumbification, oral (f! receiving), unprotected sex
“hit her from the back she can’t do nothing but yell,
and she smart as fuck i got this bitch straight out of yale”
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Ever since you were younger, you seemed to have a gift for memorising and holding information. Because of this, people assumed you studied constantly.
Obviously, you did study. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have a social life. You enjoyed college parties like any other person would.
So when a guy in your class invited you to his frat house for a party, of course you didn’t refuse.
The only thing was, this guy just happened to be Chris.
He was in your social studies class, usually sat at the very back with a couple of his friends in the lecture. You knew of each other, having shared mutual friends from other classes. You’d never really spoken to him one-to-one, mainly because he was always socialising with pretty much everyone, and while you weren’t shy, you also weren’t a huge fan of jumping into conversations with people who all knew each other prior.
It also didn’t help that Chris was the most attractive man you had seen in college, or maybe in your life.
You were good at hiding it, but he made you nervous. Of course, when he invited you to his fraternity house, you faked an air of confidence so you didn’t weird him out.
“Hey, it’s Y/N, right?” Chris began, and when you affirmed with a nod he continued, “I’m throwing a party tonight, you should come.” He threw a smile in your direction, and you pushed down the immediate feeling of giddiness before answering.
“Yeah sure, sounds good. When does it start?” You asked nonchalantly as you could.
“Around 10. You can come whenever, it will be on way into the morning anyway.”
“Great. Am I good to bring a couple friends?” You replied, not wanting to walk into a party alone.
“Yeah that’s fine with me. Ask your friend Lola, my buddy Nate has a thing for her. Just don’t tell him I told you that.” He smirked at you.
That smirk. You wished you could see that smirk while he was hovering over you as he sla—
“Lola, yeah! I’ll bring her along with me.” You snapped out of your less than decent reverie and gave Chris a response.
“Perfect. I’ll see you there, Y/N.” He gave a quick glance up and down your body before turning and walking away from you.
It was then you realised, you had absolutely nothing to wear. Plus, since Chris just personally asked you, you decided you may as well dress as hot as possible.
Y/N: hey lola, frat party tonight?
Lola: do u even have to ask??? usually it’s me dragging u to these things
Y/N: true lmao. i’m gonna need to borrow something from ur closet
Lola: ooooh why, do u need smth slutty?
Y/N: maybe
maybe i was personally invited by the party thrower
Lola: who
Y/N: chris 😇
Lola: GIRL-
ok ok i’ll give u the sluttiest thing i can find
come over later and we can pick something out for u
A couple of hours later once you were finished at college, you headed to your best friend Lola’s dorm.
You two had spent what seemed like hours choosing each other’s outfits.
“By the way, a little birdie told me that Nate has a thing for you.” You eyed Lola up, knowing she had a soft spot for him.
“Oh, really? That’s interesting. Totally unrelated but would you still happen to have that box of condoms I gave you for secret santa last year?” Lola gave you a suggestive look, raising her eyebrows.
“Of course. Already put two in my bag.” You both laughed.
You arrived at the party at 11:27, mainly because no one turns up to a party on time, but also because Lola took a ridiculous amount of time to get ready.
You met up with a couple of girls from the dorms opposite Lola, seeing as they were also invited.
As soon as you arrived, you were immediately shown to the kitchen where an array of bottles were displayed.
Vodka, whiskey, rum, tequila and practically any spirit you could think of, were decorated around the kitchen.
You grabbed two cups, one for you and Lola, and filled it with vodka and soda.
“Hey, I think I see Nate and Chris over there.” Lola points behind you through to the games room, where lo and behold, Nate and Chris were playing what looked like an intense game of beer pong.
The two of you walked over to them, Nate noticing you first.
“Hey! Come help me win the game, Lola.” He gestured for her to play with him.
Chris had then turned around to see you, that smirk appearing yet again.
“You gonna help me?”
You took a quick swig of the contents in your cup before joining Chris at the table.
“Atta girl. Nice of you to bring Lola for my bro.” He spoke in a low voice so that only you could hear.
“Chris, stop flirting and throw the damn ball.” Nate teased, and you felt your cheeks grow red.
Chris threw the ball into the cup closest to him, the object landing into the beer and making a splash.
“Drink up, fool.” he glanced at you to make sure you were watching.
After a while, you had enough to drink to give you a confidence boost, and were now invested in the game of beer pong.
It was down to one cup each, and you had to make the final shot.
“Come on, Y/N,” Chris spoke from behind you, “you got it.”
It was too hard to concentrate with his voice so close to your ear, and his body so close to yours. You threw the ball, but it narrowly missed the cup.
“Yes! Chris you’re a loser!” Nate laughed at his best friend across from the table, throwing his arm around Lola who had locked eyes with you as he did this.
‘Don’t forget the condom’, you mouthed to her playfully, and she winked, pointing to her pocket.
Nate and Lola had then disappeared together, leaving you alone with Chris.
“Sorry I missed the cup.” You joked.
“Apology accepted. You wanna smoke with me?” He pulled out a perfectly rolled joint from his pocket.
You weren’t a huge smoker, only joining with Lola occasionally when you felt like unwinding.
Nevertheless you agreed, deciding you may as well since you were at a party.
Chris lead you upstairs into his room. Your eyes immediately glanced around the room, taking in its appearance.
Chris sat on the edge of his bed, and you followed.
“Could you get my lighter, it’s in the top drawer over there.” He pointed to the bedside table at the wall, and you grabbed the device, passing it to him which he thanked you for.
“Lola and Nate seem to hit it off.” You spoke.
Chris held the joint between his lips, lighting it before replying, “he’s down bad for her. Has been for a while.”
You giggled to yourself, knowing Lola felt the same about him. It was a good feeling for you, because you knew Nate was a nice guy.
“They’re a good match. Nate’s a good guy for her." You responded, watching Chris take the first hit of weed and exhaling the thick smoke.
“Yeah? Is that what you’re into? Nice guys?” He asked you, taking another hit before passing it to you.
You took the joint from his hand and inhaled.
“I guess. I think I prefer someone more… unpredictable.” You had Chris in mind as you answered. You had yet to figure out why he invited you here himself, since you didn’t know each other that well.
“In what way?”
“I don’t know, someone I can’t figure out. I like to be kept on my feet, someone like Nate is easy to understand because he’s straightforward. Which is great for Lola, she deserves someone who is like that.” You thought about all the past few guys Lola had a thing with. They weren’t that nice.
You passed the joint back to Chris who had his eyes trained on you as you spoke.
“So you like the tension, not knowing when or if someone wants you.” He tried to understand.
“Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice when it’s easy. But..” You trailed off.
“It’s more fun not to know.” Chris finished your trail of thought as if he knew the feeling.
“Exactly.”
A comfortable silence sat between you, passing the joint back and forth until it was gone.
“I have a question.” You asked, breaking the silence.
Chris tapped the joint out on his bedside table, and brought his attention back to you, “Go ahead.”
“Why did you invite me here? I mean, it’s not that I didn’t want to come, it’s just that we haven’t really talked much.” You asked, needing to know.
Chris chuckled.
“I thought it was more fun not to know?” He smirked, using your own logic against you.
“Come on! Tell me.” You persisted.
Chris leaned in closer to you, and you could swear your heart was beating out of your chest.
“I always see you in class,” He began to explain, continuing to close the gap between you, “sitting close to the front, answering all the questions. You’re pretty smart, aren’t you?”
The tension was palpable, and you felt yourself grow wetter as his low voice penetrated your ears.
“I want an answer.” He demanded.
“I- I guess so.” Your voice wavered, all of a sudden finding it hard to speak.
“I’ve always wanted to see how long it takes until I can make you speechless.”
And it surely didn’t take long, because in moments his lips were on yours.
It was as if every guy you had dated never existed, the feeling of Chris kissing you overrode any experience you had thus far.
His left hand rested on the back of your neck while his other hand took the opportunity to roam around your body, from your thighs to your chest, until it landed on your waist.
Your hands swiftly made their way to his arm and hair, while deepening the kiss he had started.
In a quick movement he lifted you onto his lap, letting both his hands find purchase on your waist.
With your arms wrapped around his neck, you slowly moved your hips rhythmically, earning a soft grunt from him.
Pulling away, he spoke, “You want to do this?”
You nodded, before asking the same of him.
“Do you?”
That same smirk that sent you reeling reappeared again.
“Does this answer your question?” He grinded his hips upwards into you, allowing you to feel his growing hard-on.
A whine escaped from your lips.
“No more talking.”
You reconnected your lips to his, the energy of the room turning into heated passion.
Chris’ hands slowly dragged down to your ass, kneading them with roughness.
You whined again, unable to stop any sounds from leaving your mouth.
The sound of the ongoing party downstairs could be faintly heard from inside the room, but you paid it no mind. You couldn’t, not while Chris had all his attention on you.
He briefly paused to take off the top you were wearing, and then resumed with his skilled tongue, sliding against yours. He took you off his lap, not separating from you for a moment as he laid you down on your back.
“Such a smart girl in class,” he pulled his shirt over his head and threw it behind him, “Does anyone know that you’re really just a little slut?” He kissed your neck, then your jaw.
“I need an answer.” Chris demanded again, and you rubbed your thighs together in want.
“No.” You breathed.
“No, what?” His hand glided up your thigh, separating them.
“I’m not a slut.” You managed to find words.
“So if I reach in between your legs, right now, you won’t be dripping for me?”
You knew you were.
A hand snaked through your skirt, pulling aside your underwear, and he slowly dragged a finger down your pussy.
“I’ve barely touched you. Do you want me to? Want me to touch you right here?” His finger, coated in your slickness, inched its way inside, just enough for you to feel it, but not enough to satisfy you.
You bucked your hips up, trying to feel something, anything.
But Chris pulled his hand away, causing you to whine in frustration.
Luckily for you, he wanted to feel you so badly, he couldn’t tease you for long. He grabbed the hem of your skirt, pulling it down your legs and threw it in the same direction as his shirt.
“I want to hear you. You love opening that mouth when we’re in class.” And with that, he pulled your underwear aside and attached his mouth straight to your throbbing clit.
All you could do was moan and writhe in his bed as he delved into your wet cunt, licking up all the arousal like a starved man.
Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on it desperately. The vibrations from the groan that left his mouth sent waves of pleasure tearing through your body.
Chris’ hands dug into the flesh of your thighs as they instinctively tried to close around his head.
“Fuck, right there!” You moaned loudly as his tongue dove inside your hole.
One of his hands left your thigh and drew circles on your clit, causing you to arch your back at the white-hot pleasure you felt from his ministrations.
Chris could feel his dick pulsate through his pants at the sounds you were making. He needed to feel you.
“You want me to fuck you, huh? Fill you up good?” He asked, and you knew by now he wanted an answer.
“Please, please, please.” Were the only words you could muster, too high on the feeling Chris had given you with his mouth.
He wasted no time on giving you what you were begging for, quickly discarding his pants and boxers, along with your bra and soaked panties.
Lining himself up with your entrance, he slid his dick over the slick of your pussy and pushed the tip in.
Your eyes had shut in anticipation, but when he made no attempt to move you opened your eyes to look at him.
He had waited until you made eye contact with him before pushing his entire dick inside you.
You both moaned at the full feeling, your walls contracting around him.
After a few seconds, Chris began to move.
Thrusting in and out at a slow pace as if to torture you, he shuddered, revelling in the feeling of your tight cunt.
“Fuck, feels so good baby.” You whined at the pet name, bringing his face down so you could kiss him again.
He started picking up the pace after this, your tongues smashing together in absolute need.
“Faster, faster.” You babbled, drunk off the sensation of his cock piston in and out of you.
“Yeah? You want me to fuck you dumb?” He grunted, loving how you could barely string full sentences together.
“Yes, yes, please. Need you deeper.”
The dirty words spilling from your mouth caused him to moan, and he flipped you onto all fours.
“Wanna see that pretty little ass bounce while I fuck you.” He muttered as he entered you yet again.
His pace was relentless, his balls slapping against you from the way he was pounding deep inside you.
You were just making sounds as you tried to say “Harder, faster, more,” but the words couldn’t form properly.
“The slut wants more? Can’t even speak but you’re begging for more?” He taunted you from behind.
You felt a sharp slap on your ass, followed by a soothing rub directly after. You practically yelled as Chris’ hand came down, your cunt convulsing.
“Knew you’d like that,” he slapped your cheek again, “Can feel you squeezing around me.”
You could feel the knot in your stomach unraveling, and you knew you wouldn’t last longer.
“Chris, gonna cum.” You managed to speak between moans.
“Come on baby, need you to cum while I’m inside you.” He groaned, trying to hold his own release off.
His words guided you right to your orgasm, shaking and crying while you came.
“Fuck, you want my cum inside you? Want me to stuff you full?” His pace was losing rhythm, chasing his orgasm while simultaneously overstimulating you.
“Mm, cum inside me. Want to feel it.” You cried, thrusting into him so you could feel more of him.
“So good, feels so good. Oh, I’m gonna cum inside of you,” Chris rambled, “Gonna fill you up with it.”
His moans were uncontrollable, spilling out of him as he relished in the warm feeling of your pussy.
“Cumming.” He grunted, as ropes of his cum spurted out, coating your insides until there was nothing left.
You both took the time to catch your breath, as Chris pulled out of you with a shaky sigh.
“Let me get you a towel.”
You turned onto your back once more, trying to comprehend the mind blowing sex you just had while dozens of people were partying downstairs.
Chris came back with a towel, cleaning the both of you up and passing you your underwear back.
“Hey.” You finally spoke, tired from all the stamina you had just burned.
“Hey.” He replied back to you.
“That was… amazing.” You sighed.
“Yeah, it was fun.”
You weren’t sure if he wanted you to leave now, or if you were supposed to stay, so you opted to do nothing.
“Let me take you on a date.” He announced, and you laughed.
“Don’t you think we’ve done this all a little backwards?”
Chris smiled and brought your head to his shoulder.
“I guess I’m just unpredictable.”
You then remembered you didn’t even use the condom you brought with you. You’d have to make your first date with Chris a trip to the pharmacy.
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a/n haha…. always wear a condom, kids!
hope you enjoyed my first oneshot.
send me any requests you want me to write! i think i’m gonna do an nsfw alphabet next, for chris and matt too
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genshxn · 8 months
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guess who wants to (honkai: star) rail another dragon man. there is also (un)fortunately no (star) railing in this.
written pre 1.3 so i’m making shit up for now. (this is also full of vidyadhara headcanons)
in which you find dan heng unable to sleep, you have an awkward conversation, and then he becomes somewhat dragon-brained. twice.
4.2K words (lmao this is way longer than i meant it to be)
you’re not the trailblazer, just another laddie aboard the express.
btw, i bullshited a good chunk of the dialogue and events, so apologies if this is shite. i might've also committed character vehicular manslaughter, in that he might be ooc. lol fingers crossed it's aight.
part 2’s finally up if you wanna read it here
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despite the quiet of the night, you had drifted from your sleep. it had been painfully light as of recent, leaving you adrift in the shallows while you’d toss and turn for a comfortable position. could you really be blamed though? yes, the looming threat of phantylia had been taken out, and everyone from the express that went aboard the luofu had been reunited after what felt like weeks. but you were still in the thick of an intricate web of chaos. the threats were far from over, not with the stellaron still active. but at least for now, you had enough time in this brief respite to be able to not fucking sleep.
you rolled over. you were more or less itching with restlessness, sighing to yourself quietly over your woes of no sleep. you rose from your mussed bed and hobbled out of the room. it was a quaint little place—where you had stayed when it was just the express crew (minus dan heng), when you'd first met tingyun. after that, everything happened like a landslide. memories of her sudden death quickly boiled their way up. with each step you took, you stamped them back down again.
out in the small hallway, you made your way towards the small courtyard out the back. as you walked past the other rooms, you were a little jealous at the sounds of others sleeping. from mr. yang's and march’s respective rooms was the odd, soft snore. from stelle’s room, there was nothing (which was to be expected, as you often found her out messing with the cycrane systems at night). as you walked past dan heng’s room, you were expecting more silence—which you were of course met with, but also a slitted door. you peered through into the darkness. from the dim hallway light, it seemed he had also tried and failed at sleep if his abandoned, nest-like sheets were anything to go by.
you continued to the courtyard. once you cracked open the door, you were met with an unexpected sight. moonlight caught on the black, silken strands that spilt down his back. a glassy, teal tail coiled around his feet, almost glinting in the light with each of its subtle movements. dan heng, wearing his simple night clothes of old, baggy slacks and a tight, black tank top. his ears twitched as you slid the door open further. when you stepped onto the stone tiles, he cast you an over-shoulder glance—a new habit he’d picked up recently.
"can’t sleep either?" you asked him softly, approaching from behind. 
the only response he gave was a strained groan, dragging a hand over his face.
"i take that as a no, then," you said, moving over to sit in another stool at the small table just next to him. as you went past, his tail wound tighter around the foot of his seat. 
"i take it that it’s the same for you," he muttered in reply, jade eyes cast somewhere on the ground between him and you. 
"yep." you leaned against the table next to you, arm propping up your head. your eyes flickered to his face. "and not because i’ve been up playing gacha games."
he briefly met your gaze, eyebrows quirked in doubt.
"okay, i don’t do it anywhere near as much as stelle." 
"right," he said with the faintest hint of a smile. the tip of his tail twitched in amusement. "her room was very quiet when i walked past, though. perhaps she’s mended her ways." 
"i think she’s out screwing with the cycranes instead, actually." 
"of course she is," he breathed as he raked a hand through his long hair. as you watched it pass through the delicate tresses, you stared intently at his claws. after his initial transformation, to say you were floored was an understatement. perhaps more like you were punched 50,000 feet below sea level. he could really only be described as beautiful, but even that word couldn’t quite capture his ethereality. even when he was as exhausted as he looked now, he still seemed to glow—quite literally, too. his eyes and those horns atop his head shone faintly in the dark. when someone was that pretty, how could one not be reduced to a staring fool? particularly you.  as of recent, you’ve ended up forgetting you’re supposed to actually talk to him when he’s with you. and if you did remember to ever say anything, you’d make a fool of yourself. 
he watched your gaze affixed to his hands. he took one look at them and then wrung them in his lap, looking off to the side with an unreadable emotion in his eyes. 
"ah, i’m sorry—" you began, but he quickly cut you off. 
"it’s fine," he said hurriedly, tail coiling up tighter.
"no, really. i know i’ve been acting pretty weir—" 
"i said it’s fine. please, just leave it." he said again. he unwound himself just a little, but the tense line of his shoulders still had yet to dissipate. his gaze wandered a little more back towards you. "may i ask what’s keeping you up?" 
you weren’t thrilled at the spontaneous topic change, but replied nonetheless. "just about everything, i guess. a lot’s been going on. it’s hard to take any time to rest with a stellaron still effectively looming overhead," you said. "though i could only imagine it’s about that, but tenfold for you, given the whole..." you gestured vaguely to his whole new look. 
he dragged a hand down his face, rubbing his sleepy eyes in the process. "i don’t want to think about the stellaron for now…"
"agreed. shall we put a pin in that topic, then?"
"that would be ideal."
the two of you sat in more silence. you were (only half) guiltily back to staring at his features, eyes running over all parts of him. he seemed to shrink under your gaze, ears and tail twitching with thought. his eyes drifted up to look at you—oh, there was something new. his pupils must dilate or constrict based on what he was looking at. when his eyes met yours, you could have sworn they momentarily expanded, until his eyes flickered away again, waning right back to slits. at the same time, his ears angled themselves down just a touch. 
"a—are you feeling okay?" you asked, tilting your head a little. he made a small groan and shelled further into himself. you didn’t think you had ever seen him that tense. "hey, look at me. are you alright?" your voice was as soft as you could make it. you tried to reach out to the arm he had leaning on the table, but it was in vain. he inched away moments before contact.
"i—" his tail-tip continued to flicker with apprehension. 
"well, something else is definitely bothering you. can you talk to me about it?"
"m-must i?" he was almost hiding his face.
"only if you want to," you shuffled yourself a little closer to him. "but if it’s weighing this much on you, it may make you feel a little lighter. so you can sleep. y’know." while you spoke, you gestured somewhat vaguely. ever since his vidyadhara heritage was put on full display, he hadn’t quite been the same as you knew him. he was more tense than usual. on-edge and anxious, preoccupied with his own thoughts, much unlike the down-to-earth dan heng you normally knew. it worried you. he wasn’t even really speaking to mr. yang. with everything that had been going on, you could barely begin to imagine what sort of turmoils he had churning within him. 
"i suppose one thing is that i’m simply not used to this form," he ran a clawed, slender finger up from the base of his horn to the tip. "there’s a strange disparity between feeling like i’ve known myself to be like this my whole existence, but also that i’m suddenly someone i’m not." as he spoke, his voice was quiet. "in a similar vein, it’s like my tail has a mind of its own. look at it," he grumbled while he picked it up into his lap. as he held it bundled in his arms, the tip hung over the side, twitching to and fro. "i’m not trying to make it do that. i can’t control it." he sighed, a slight growl in his throat. 
"wouldn’t it do that because you’ve been so… frazzled, as of recent?" 
"what makes you think that?" 
"um…" how were you supposed to tell him that you only had that theory because you had been constantly stealing glances of him, watching his moods, watching his languid beauty. instead, you thought of some other bullshit answer. "i mean, it’d make sense, wouldn’t it? it’s like cats. their tails twitch when they’re irritated, and i’m sure they can’t quite control it." 
he frowned a little, ears twitching downward. "i’m not a cat," he said, almost with a little pout. 
maybe not, but he was certainly cute like one. "anyway, what you said about your new features…" you began, scratching the back of your head. to your surprise, he looked at you with eyes just a little wider than normal. "i could only imagine how weird it must be for you… who am i kidding, no i couldn’t. it’s probably downright foreign, but you’re dan heng. i’m sure you’ll have it under control in no time." 
with his hands on his knees, he aimlessly grabbed at fistfuls of his loose pants. "you…" he muttered, wetting his lips as he swallowed thickly once again. 
"me?" you echoed quietly.
"forgive me for asking something so asinine, but… what… do you think?" as he muttered out the words, you could have sworn his face was turning a light shade of pink. however, it was hard to tell under only the moon and the dim lights of the courtyard. what you could tell was that his tail-tip was twitching like a bundle of nerves.
you stared at him with owlish eyes. "what do i think of what?" 
"what do you think of… me. as i am now?" 
your breath caught in your throat for a moment as he stared at you with such apprehensive eyes. they were slitted from nerves, but they shone with the moonlight, expectation and most curiously, some sort of hope. "um…"
"i’ve noticed how much you stare at me, yet you said nothing when you first saw me, unlike mr. yang or march. now, you feel almost stilted when you’re with me, like you refuse to address what’s in front of you." 
you swallowed hard at his words. "didn’t stelle also not…" you trailed off. you were doing it again, what he quite literally just said. 
"i’ve spoken to her since then. i’m asking you." he seemed to have regained a little confidence, sitting up straighter and looking at you with the slightest bit more intensity.
now it was your turn to grab at fistfuls of your clothes. you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as you spoke, heart pounding a mile a minute. "you’ve been truthful with me, so i guess i should too," you muttered. "you, ah, um…" this was really not the direction you thought this conversation would go in. "to be really honest with you, i keep staring because you’re so… pretty."
dan heng sat motionless. if it weren’t for his vidyadhara features, he almost could have gotten away with simply being frozen. upon your words, his eyes widened just a fraction, jade-white pupils dilating. his ears twitched back upwards and his tail fell still. heavy moments of silence passed while you two stared at each other. it seemed like he was waiting for you, so you kept talking. "i didn’t speak much to begin with simply because i was so surprised. i mean, we see you again after so long and there you are, just about the most beautiful thing i’d ever seen, suddenly with the power to split an ocean. after that, i didn’t trust myself to not be weird about you, so i… kind of just refused to say anything." you rubbed the back of your neck, face burning. "but i guess that plan fell flat on its face if you noticed me staring so much." 
once you finished speaking, his gaze fell into his lap, gazing down at his hands that held fistfuls of fabric once again. "but… these powers aren’t me." 
"of course not. they’re not you, only a fraction of the whole you," there was a slight smile on your lips. "are you worried that i don’t see you as dan heng anymore?" 
he made no effort to confirm or deny anything, simply remaining as he was—a blatant yes for him. 
a small smile made its way onto your face. "you’re always going to be one and only dan heng that the whole express—that i—know and love, no matter what other forms you take." you shuffled yourself closer to him once again, now finally able to reach out and brush your thumb over the back of his hand. as you sat there, your face was burning up at your words. did you really have to word it like that? if you really wanted to be honest with him, then yes. 
he was still sat ramrod upright, but a blush now dusted his cheeks and his pupils were blown wide. his tail-tip was back to moving, this time wagging back and forth. he looked between you and your hand on his own, letting out a shaky breath. while he was still as nerve-wrecked as could be, a weight on his shoulders seemed to have been lifted. he looked like he was about to say something, but as soon as he opened his mouth, out came a long yawn. even though he tried to hide it with with his wrist, you still managed to catch a glimpse of his fangs. 
"sorry," he muttered, rubbing one of his eyes. “also, you’re still staring."
"ah, i—i’m sorry, i’ve been acting so weird. i—that habit’s not gonna go away any time soon…" you yanked your hands back into your lap. he looked a little disappointed at the new lack of contact. "anyway, how do you think you’ll sleep now?"
"please do not worry about me. what about yourself?" 
"um…" your heart is still pounding in your throat. "i—i don’t know, to be honest." whatever the answer was, it was bound to be ‘not well’.
"in the past, you’ve come to the archives when you haven’t been able to sleep. you’d place yourself on my bed and then ten minutes later, i’d find you fast asleep." his voice was soft when he spoke, almost with a faint note of mirth. "i wouldn’t mind if you…"
your eyes almost fell out of your head. "hold on, are you really—"
"you’re welcome to sleep next to me, if you’d like." 
"like in your room?" 
"where else?" when he stared at you, there wasn’t much obvious emotion on his face, but at the same time, he seemed so earnest with his tail-tip flicking back and forth happily. 
"but i thought you found it annoying when i did that?" 
"only because you'd wake me in the early hours of the morning. truly, i’ve never been opposed to it."
your face prickled with heat as you raked a hand through your hair. "are you sure you’re completely the same dan heng?" 
"hey." he looked miffed. 
"sorry, sorry." you were just about hiding your face in your hands by this point. "i just thought—" before you could finish, he stood up, long tail unwinding from around the seat. he took two steps and then plucked you off of your own chair. as you yelped in shock, he flopped you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “hey, what’re you—?!" 
"would you stop being so adamant if i say it will help me sleep too?" 
you gave up drumming on his back, only able to hang in embarrassment as you covered your face. your head may as well have been steaming. "wh—what the fuck is this?" 
he made no reply as he marched you back inside. as he walked, you watched his tail-tip as it was curled upwards, swaying from side to side. his room was close—he opened the door with his foot, stepped in and slid it closed again with his tail. as soon as you were properly enclosed, he placed you onto the bed with unexpected gentleness. in the past, if you were causing trouble, his method of dealing with you was hauling you off somewhere and simply dropping you—now, it was the opposite. you were left dazed in the middle of the sheet-nest, only back to your senses once dan heng got in next to you. but instead of settling down for sleep like you anticipated, he was shuffling about on his knees, rearranging the sheets and pillows so they were in a better formation, according to him. he was even using his tail to smooth out the sheets into circular patterns. 
"are you nesting or something?" you asked, bewildered. 
with no reply, he finally settled down further up against the splayed pillows. "come." he held his arms open for you, but when you made no movement, his tail roped you in instead. you were drawn into his not-very-tight vice grip, trapped in next to him. he held you loosely around the waist with clasped hands, head placed atop your leg where he seemed to be using your side like a pillow. his horns poked into your stomach every time he nuzzled... he was really nuzzling you...
"dan heng, seriously, what’s gotten into you?" 
with only a hum, he ceased his movements and craned his head up, staring at you from behind thick lashes. his pupils were still blown wide open. you couldn’t help but find it mildly foreboding. 
"i don’t understand why you’re… so touchy. i thought you were normally allergic to contact?" 
"is it not enjoyable?" he tilted his head. his fluffy hair flopped in his face with his movement. internally, one part of you was screaming YEEEES and crushing beer cans into your forehead, while the other, larger part of you was just plain screaming. you wanted to bask in this shower of attention, but at the same time, it felt so wrong—like he wasn’t really himself. whatever dragon-brain mindfuckery was going on in his head, it was certainly potent. 
"it’s not that, i just… are you sure you’re thinking straight? or do i need to spell out the situation? because you’ve hauled me back to your bed, made a nest around me and are now cuddling me like a pillow."
dan heng blinked once, twice and then his body went rigid. he pushed himself off of you and leapt to the corner of the bed, crouched with his tail once again wound around him. "wh—what was i…?" he looked down at his hands as if they were soaked in blood. his face was flaring red with a blush. 
"you seemed rather convinced i was something like your treasure hoard for a moment," you said.
upon your words, he sank his head in his hands, and whatever noise he made in embarrassment sounded like a groaning sob. "forgive me, i don’t know what came over me…" 
"some kinda vidyadhara instinct?” it was almost like he was trying to court you. 
"something like that," he muttered from behind his hand that now covered his mouth. his gaze was fixed to a random point before him and his ears were down-turned. "i… i’ve never felt it that strong before."
"wait, you’ve felt it befo—?" right before you could finish, his tail silenced you, thwacking itself against your lips. meanwhile, he was hiding his face again. with the way his shoulders hunched, you were worried—he seemed genuinely distressed. it was a miracle he hadn’t run off somewhere by that point. with a concerned frown, you took his tail in hand and spoke again. "hey, um, this might not help whatsoever, but it was actually… rather nice when you did that." you struggled to look at him. if you called it cute like it was, you’d just be blowing whatever chance you had at keeping him in place. 
he looked over at you, ears perked up. his incredulous eyes went as wide as could be, almost like two moons. a moment passed, and the tail in your hands began to sway. "really?"
"really," you nodded. "it was just shocking to begin with, but i—if you want, you can do it again."
dan heng turned his body to face you, swallowing thickly and trying to meet your gaze. he was stuck dithering for a few moments until he ultimately crashed again, flopping forward until his face was flat on the mattress. "i can’t," he muttered, voice muffled. 
"oh, um, why?" your eyes went wide. 
he turned his face to the side, unable to make a coherent reply beyond a strained, squeaky groan. he was still burning hot with a heavy flush, but it was soon covered by his tail that draped itself over his head. "too embarrassing.” 
a small, light laugh slipped from your lips. he coiled further into himself at the sound of it, but he was soon unwound when you had your hands on him, guiding him back up next to you. he was as stiff as could be when he laid down next to you, gaze cast down the other end of the bed. you tucked a stray lock of long hair behind one of his ears. when your touch grazed past him, his pink-tipped ear twitched wildly, and he buried his face into the pillow beneath him. "why don’t you let me do something? you did say this would help you sleep, didn’t you?"
"while i was practically in a daze. i wasn’t thinking right," he complained, voice once again muffled. "this will only keep me awake, if anything." 
"maybe, we’ll see." as you spoke, you took to running your fingers through his long, silky hair. you gathered it up from behind him and brought it forward, draping it over his shoulder. your fingers glided through as though they were passing through a soft mist, fluid and sleek. before long, as you gradually let your hands drift higher until they would pass over his head, he began to decompress. stuttering, held breaths became steady and soft. his nervous-contorted face was dissipating, and his heavy blush was fading to a simple dusting of pink. 
when his eyes fell closed, you glanced up at his horn. beyond just staring at him, you were also tempting fate with how much you wanted to touch his new features. you couldn’t help it though—humans are such curious, tactile creatures, it was simply in your nature. one hand left his hair, which he barely seemed to notice, and inched its way to his horn that threatened to poke you. finally, your fingertip ghosted its surface. it was as smooth as glass, and just as cool to the touch. in fact, you could almost describe it as silky, like his scales. he twitched under your touch, eyes parting open. his pupils were blown wide open again. 
"ah, i’m sorry, i—" you began, but he soon cut you off. 
"no, keep going." he grabbed your hand and placed it back on his horn. you blinked incredulously for a moment, but soon continued as you were, running your fingertips up and down the glassy blue projections. he closed his eyes again and, making yours widen, his soft breaths were followed by a faint rumbling in his chest—a purr. he really was like a cat. 
a few moments later, you felt something long wind its way around your leg. you looked down. his tail was snaking its way up your leg, until the tip draped itself happily over your lap where it laid swishing from side to side. you fell still in shock when he shuffled his body closer to yours until he laid flush against your side. he laid one of his arms across your chest and reached for your shoulder, pulling you in just a little closer to him. 
"you stopped again." his voice was barely a whisper when he leaned his head in the crook of your neck. one of his horns was cool against the back of your neck. 
"it’s a little hard to do anything when you’re this close," you muttered back. 
"then just stay as you are." he nuzzled about with a yawn. he must have been finally settling down for sleep, but that meant using you as a body pillow. your tail-twined leg was drawn towards him, where he draped his own leg over top of it, caging it in between his calves. 
“d-dan heng…” you tried to say his name as if that would do anything, but he paid you no mind. lost in his hypnagogic trance, he only muttered sweet nothings with his lips against your shoulder.
his voice was barely audible. dragon-brain must have been in full swing, because he finished off with a quiet: “you will be mine one day, my beloved…"
you nearly exploded then and there.
i love me some emotive ears, mm yes.
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ALRIGHT, *cracks knuckles* let's get into that teaser, shall we?
Should I itemize this? I think I'm going to itemize it lmao.
So:
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Starting here because this is a baseline for Stede, he's got no neckerchief here. This is likely early in the season, probably the very start.
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Man's got a fuckin' ARM.
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This is Ed. You can see the bare right arm in both shots.
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Red neckerchief. Ed's scrap of silk? Beat to shit if it is, which, he did toss it out to sea so, it would be.
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Ed's not wearing the knee brace. Or gloves for that matter. I know the knee brace being an actual mobility aid is unconfirmed canon/fanon but it does make me :(c to see him without it. Either it wasn't actually considered as a mobility aid or he's lost it like he's lost his gloves OR he's going without it because he doesn't care if it hurts.
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Closer shot of the neckerchief.
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I just wanted to point out all the knives stabbed into the table. Also, those look like bits of paper on the windows, did they keep some of the books to repurpose for window blocking purposes?
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THERE HE IS!!!!!!!! Other people have already pointed out the makeup and his ring still on his tie, along with the whip on his hip cjizzy real. He's got a new baldric but I also think his clothes look. Darker? Than in season 1? This is a darker/heavier contrast setting but it carries into other shots of him too I think? Like they're less sun/saltwater faded or something?
Other thing to note: If I have my orientation right, this is to the right of Stede's bed nook and to the left of the library, which means this shelf is the one with the auxiliary wardrobe opening mechanism. Which I bring up because:
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This little guy seems to be in the place of the mannequin. Ed kept the auxiliary wardrobe and gothed up the mannequin to justify it still being there.
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SO much here. This is, I'm fairly certain, Benjamin Hornigold. This camp he's set up (along with what he's wearing) looks like it was made out of a shipwreck. Ed's barefoot and missing his jacket and gloves, and his shirt's torn up at the sleeves. Definitely where he washed up from his dip in the ocean.
Note the trees and the lighting, that comes up later. Ed shoots here and Ben moves with the shot but it doesn't look like he was actually HIT by it to my eyes.
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'Wanted. |Blackbeard| Villainous Pirate. Murderer, thrice over. $400 Reward for the criminal responsible for: theft - brigandry - larceny - arson - tax evasion ➡' Presumably there are more crimes/info on the back, though we see the reverse side in the next cut and it's either blank or all in very small text, I couldn't quite tell.
The poster to the right says 'Port' something which has me wondering Port Royal but that's just the only 'Port' something I know, could def be somewhere else.
(Also, just for fun:
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Here's how much abouts Ed's capture would be worth now.)
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Wider pic than it needs to be but I didn't wanna cut out Olu lol. ANYWAY. Neckerchief again. Also the back of the poster, see what I mean about it either being blank or very tiny?
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Babygirl. . . But also that Bride Ed figure kinda slays. Little bralette with the midriff showing, I see you Babygirl. When will he be allowed to just rest and do silly little crafts WITHOUT heartbreak looming over him?
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Well. Four is not nine. So. There's that. The other five could be used or out of frame though, of course.
OH. He's back to his fingerless gloves! They might actually be different from his original ones though, they look different at the wrist to me, not quite sure though.
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The BOYS!!!! Frenchie looks like he's having a GREAT time. Considering he suggested they turn the hostage into a table and complained about the Republic of Pirates being a bit gentrified I'd say this is more in line with what he's used to in piracy. I 100% buy he was going along with Stede's way because he knew it was an easy ride compared to real piracy. This wouldn't necessarily be a return to form for him but definitely something he's more used to? And he gets to be kitty :3c
And FANG!!! Look at him showing a bit more skin!! Good for him!!
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Everybody say 'Thank You David Jenkins'. Right now. Look at this Mad Max shit. Fuckin' Imperator Jimenez right there. LOVE that tye added the 'beard' after the 'fuck's wrong with your face?' bit in 1x10. Full 'it looked weird on you but I slay' energy.
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Jim
Izzy
Fang
Near as I can tell at least. I can't make out if Frenchie is in the shot and I'm pretty positive Ed isn't cause he stayed by the cake when they charged in.
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Man, yknow I know we were all kinda clowning on it a bit at the end of 1x10 but this look really is so JARRING. Like, in the dark it's menacing but in the light? It's unhinged and that reads as more dangerous imo.
Also just for comparison's sake the pre-Ed-ified version of the bride figure. He really did full on customize that thing lol.
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I DON'T THINK ANNE KISSED STEDE HERE. It feels out of character of the show to pull the 'It's fine if a woman does it to a man' kind of thing with regard to unwanted kissing. This is the frame the scene starts on in the trailer. She's leaning back from him and isn't nearly close enough to his mouth to say for certain that's where she was coming from. My money is on her leaning in to whisper something into his ear, maybe under the guise of it being an advance/intended kiss, which would also explain the annoyed look when she's interrupted. She either got ACTUALLY interrupted or it's part of the act. Stede doesn't look nearly as uncomfortable as he would be if she'd kissed him or tried to, he looks confused.
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Izzy going for his sword when this guy tries to get the drop on Stede. He either is starting to care or he knows how much Ed needs him alive.
Also, this is the other potential source of Stede's neckerchief. Mr, Knife right here has a red one and Stede doesn't have it in this scene. I do think this one is a little less distressed than the one Stede has though so it could just be coincidence.
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See? No neckerchief. He DOES have a sword at his hip tho! So this, I think, is after Izzy's started training him.
Also, he actually looks really good in red lol.
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Baby. He's definitely missing the ring in this shot. It sits higher than the baldric is covering. I want to give him a little kissie on his ouchie and then let him have a nap, he needs that.
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The pants match the coat. Also, black shirt. Stede is kinda slaying ngl.
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Still missing her head :(c. Isn't that bad luck?
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Maybe yall didn't hear me properly with the Jim pic. I'll repeat:
EVERYBODY SAY 'THANK YOU DAVID JENKINS'.
I can't get over how Stede's just standing there politely with his arms behind his back lmfao.
Also, Izzy's got his right leg up, he's putting his weight on his left. . . 'foot'.
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I SAID EVERYBODY SAY-
I know tits and all but also. The belly. I would like to. Bite.
*ahem*
ANYWAY. On the left (our left) side of the barrel you can see the tip of his right boot so he's def got that leg off the ground. Perhaps someone is trying to relearn their footwork? Now that they've got a different balance than they're used to? And perhaps a difference in sensory input in the leg he's standing on? Possibly?
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This is the same beach Ed was on when he did the fuckin' RAD takedown of the other officer but it definitely looks like different times of day. Having both in the teaser is def meant to be a red herring. He doesn't have the neckerchief in this shot either.
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Bra för honom. (Is how google translate tells me you say 'Good for him' in Swedish.)
Is Jackie's hair the same here as it is in the VF pic with Ed? Or like, similar enough to be a 'later in the day after some Fun™ messing it up a bit'?
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Roach!!! Fully sleeveless now, added a belt, got some flowers tied to the strings/straps of his apron. Looks like he's having fun lighting that cannon lol. Pretty sure this is the same scene as that one leaked photo of him dancing with Fang and Izzy's green screen sock. He had the flowers in that, right?
[Ran out of allowed images, please hold]
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spacelazarwolf · 1 year
Note
wait you don’t have to believe in an anthropomorphic god in judaism? could you explain a bit if that’s alright?
my favorite way to explain the way jews feel about god is with the story of the oven of akhnai. basically, the sages are arguing about the halachic status of a new type of oven. there's a lot of debate and miracles to try to prove who's right, and eventually one of them is like "ok dude if ur right then god themself will say ur right." and god's like "ya ur right" but the other guy's like "fuck off god this isn't ur business." the torah is not in heaven. it's down on earth with us. we are the ones responsible for our laws and ethics.
a lot of jews i know don't believe in an anthropomorphic god. one of my rabbis believes that god is the oneness of the universe, which is an interpretation i really love. another one i love is that god is in the things we haven't been able to figure out yet, the laws of physics that don't make sense to us yet, the corners of the universe we haven't been able to reach, and the more we figure out the more we know god.
this is very different than what a lot of folks will recognize if they had a christian upbringing, because the christian god is very much seen as an authority figure, someone who is actively granting forgiveness and changing things on earth. so even for jews who do believe in something closer to what most gentiles will recognize as god, our priorities and relationship with god are still very different.
also slightly unrelated but i feel it's important to note that jewish laws were based on a time where we were a nation that was self governing, whereas with christian theology it was intended to be able to be integrated into other cultures and existing judicial systems easily because their goal is proselytizing, so god is their One Uniter. whereas there have been many services i've attended where the rabbis literally did not mention god once unless it was during a prayer or reading, which shocks a lot of ppl lmao.
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probably-writing-x · 9 months
Text
Just You.
Summary: Conrad was a different person now that the two of you were together. It was a side of him the others had never seen before, and a side he wanted to show just for you.
Warnings: Just sickeningly sweet fluff and Conrad being a reassuring king.
Author’s Note: Once again entirely inspired by this gif so plz keep making tsitp gifs so that I can keep writing this stuff lmao
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“Shit,” You grumble under your breath, stretching up on the tips of your toes to reach the top shelf in the cupboard.
You groan and wiggle your fingers as if it’ll help you to reach any higher, before feeling the touch of a hand on your waist.
Conrad reaches up behind you and takes the salt down from the top shelf to hand it to you, “There you go.”
He presses a kiss to your temple and squeezes your waist.
“Thank you,” You smile, “I don’t know why Jere insists on putting everything back on the top shelf as if there isn’t space anywhere else.”
Conrad winces, “Actually I think that one might have been me,” He mentions, leaning back against the kitchen island opposite you.
You turn around and fake a gasp, “Do you want breakfast or not?”
He raises his hands in surrender, “Definitely, yes,” Conrad smiles, “Although I’m not sure it counts as breakfast at this time.”
“And whose fault is that?” You narrow your eyes at him, turning back to the two plates of avocado toast laid out in front of you.
Conrad hums and walks up behind you once again, wrapping his arms around you and perching his chin onto your shoulder, “Your fault. You kept distracting me from getting up.”
You giggle and place your hands over his, “I think we’re both remembering this morning very differently.”
“This looks so good,” He comments, looking down at the food you’d prepared.
“Yeah? You normally don’t like avocado.”
He shrugs, “Not when you do it.”
You hand him a plate and take your own and he stops to lace his fingers with yours before the two of you head into the lounge.
The two of you flop down onto the couch and Conrad sits close enough to you that he can drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing it back around so that he can still hold his plate in front of you. You laugh, it’s hardly practical but he never liked being too separate from you.
“You know you two literally make me sick,” Steven comments as he walks into the lounge.
You look up from your food and grin, “Are you jealous Conklin?”
“Yeah do you remember what it’s like to actually have a girl that likes you back?” Conrad wiggles his fork in Steven’s direction.
“Hey, hey, hey, Taylor likes me back, okay? She just doesn’t know it yet,” Steven drops himself down onto the couch opposite the two of you.
You finish your food and reach forward to set the plate down, Conrad following suit and putting his on top of yours.
“And you didn’t think to make food for me?” Steven gasps, “I’m starving.”
“Boyfriend privileges,” You shrug and Conrad wraps his arms around you tightly.
Steven looks at the both of you with disgust before fake gagging at the sight, “I can’t even watch.”
“Fuck off virgin,” Conrad yells in his direction as Steven disappears into the kitchen.
You snuggle into him a little bit tighter and rest your head against his heartbeat, “Do you think we are too much?”
Conrad takes a deep breath as if he’s considering it, “No.”
You smile a little to yourself, “I mean, I do practically live at this place now. Maybe I should go home some time.”
He hums in response, “Maybe. Maybe not.”
His arms shift on you and both of you stay in that position as if there is no reason in the world to move.
———
It’s later in the afternoon before either of you decide to move, eventually agreeing on going outside to the pool now that the sun is fully out.
You both get changed into your swimwear and Conrad grabs you two towels from the cupboard, making sure to pick you one slightly softer than the others. He fills up bottles of water for both of you because he always picked up on when you hadn’t drank enough, and he’s got your flip flops waiting at the door before you’ve even realised you’d forgotten them.
The two of you step outside and you drag a lounger into the sun, laying your towel over it.
“I’m going for a swim, okay?” Conrad comments, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.
You hum in response and flutter your eyes shut, pushing your earphones into your ears and turning up the volume. You’re sure you could stay here forever.
You’d been dating Conrad for the past six months since the two of you met at college. Your parents had a beach house only forty minutes from where the Fishers had theirs but you’d spent nearly your whole summer with him instead. You two were inseparable. From the day you two had met, it was like you’d just clicked. He made you laugh, he challenged you, he adored you. Maybe you were a little obsessed, but you couldn’t imagine going without him.
“Hey!” Belly drops down onto the lounger next to you, nudging your arm.
You take your earphones out and smile, “Hey! I didn’t know you guys got back.”
You see Jere walking across the garden towards the pool and wave.
“Yeah, they were out of blueberry pie so it was a wasted journey anyway,” Belly shrugs, “Where’s Conrad?”
“In the pool, I think,” You crane your neck to look in that direction, “He normally hates being in the sun.”
Belly laughs, “Yeah, well, there are lots of things that guy hated that he doesn’t seem to hate so much anymore.”
You prop yourself up onto your elbows, “What do you mean?”
“Oh come on,” She giggles, “He’s literally head over heels for you. He’s so different now.”
“Good different?��
“He frowns less,” Belly smiles.
You look back again and watch his head bob up from the surface, chatting now to Jeremiah who’s sat at the edge of the pool.
“He’s happy, it’s a good thing I promise,” Isabel encourages, “It’s just, we’re not used to seeing him like this.”
You nod in her direction and go to say something more before you’re stopped by a shower of splashes falling down onto your head. You flinch involuntarily and look up to see Conrad towering over you, his head blocking the sun from your eyes.
“How dare you,” You narrow your eyes at him.
Conrad breaks into a laugh, a kind of boyish charm as his shoulders rise and his lips break into a wide grin.
“We were in the middle of an important conversation Conrad,” Belly says sarcastically, “Girl talk.”
“Girl talk?” He raises his eyebrows at the two of you, “Should I be worried?”
You fight back a smile when you look at him.
“I was just coming to see if you wanted to come in the pool? Jere wants us to play volleyball,” He glances in the direction of his brother, “You can be on my team, darling.”
You grin, “Alright, help me up,” You say, outstretching your hands to him.
Conrad instead reaches down and wraps his arms around you, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder.
“Con!” You squeal, gripping onto him tightly.
He carries you the short distance to the pool and tightens his grip on you at the exact second that he steps over the poolside, plunging you both into the water.
You drop underneath the surface and flail to get your bearings before you push upwards, your head back above water.
“I hate you,” You narrow your eyes at him, dragging your hands back through your hair to pull it away from your face.
He stands up in the water and steps to you, “You’ll get over it.”
You hum as if considering it and he grabs your hands, tugging you towards him.
“Alright lovebirds let’s play!” Jeremiah claps his hands from the other side of the pool and Belly throws him the volleyball.
Conrad looks at you once more and grins before turning his attention to the two on the opposing team.
———
You play until Belly and Jeremiah have won three times before finally conceding, noting that Con needs to teach you how to get better at volleyball.
You dry off enough in the sun and carry your things back into the house, heading upstairs for a shower before everyone else was waiting for one too.
Conrad’s room was tidier now that you were staying here. He made sure of it. He changed his sheets every week and kept a drawer of his free for all of your things - a collection that had been piling up since you got here. You had a nightstand on one side of his bed and he brought your morning coffees up to leave just there before he woke you up. It was a pocket of perfection away from the rest of the house.
“Hey darling,” You turn around to find him stood at the doorway of the room, “Do you want to go out for dinner tonight?”
“Con we’re supposed to be saving money for college, we shouldn’t be spending this much money on food,” You laugh, squeezing a towel through your hair to get out the remaining pool water.
Conrad narrows his eyes, “But why wouldn’t I want to take you out?”
You laugh and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his torso. Both of you stay in that position for a moment, your head against his chest.
“Hey, um, I wanted to ask you something,” You mumble, quiet enough that it bodes the question of if he’d even hear you.
“Yeah?” Conrad looks down at you, taking your hand in his as he walks over to the bed.
He sits himself down on the edge of it and you stand in front of him between his legs, his hands trailing up and down your skin as yours rest around his shoulders.
“What’s on your mind?” He asks, kissing lightly at the skin of your stomach.
“Um, earlier, when we were in the garden… Belly started talking to me about us,” You begin, drawing your hands up towards his hair, “And she said that they think you’re completely different now…”
He doesn’t pull away from you, his hands drawing patterns on your skin, “Yeah, I am.”
“Do you think so? I mean, I don’t want them to feel like I’ve come in here and changed you, they’ve all known you your whole life and I don’t want to be the one to blame for-“
“Hey, hey, hey,” Conrad pulls away slightly so that he can look up at you, his hands resting on either side of your hips, “There’s nothing to blame you for.”
You look down at him and chew at the inside of your cheek, “But don’t you think… I don’t know, isn’t it a bad thing that you’ve changed so much because of me?”
Conrad lets out a faint laugh, “(y/n) all she means is that they’re used to me being grumpy and argumentative and short tempered. You might’ve changed me but only in the good ways, I promise.”
You look down at him still unsure of his words, your own self doubt creeping around his reassurance.
“Come on, look at me!” He laughs, “There’s not one bad thing that’s come from you being here.”
You fight back a smile and he takes your evident relief as an opportunity to flip you onto the bed, his legs hooking around yours so that he can pull you down onto the mattress beside him.
You lay on your back next to Conrad as he turns to look down over you, his fingers trailing down your arms.
“You’re it for me, (y/n),” He assures you, “And I’m the person I want to be when I’m with you.”
You blush and bring your hands up to cover your face, smiling bright beneath your palms.
Conrad shifts so that he’s hovering over you, one arm resting down by your side and the other coming up so that he can pull your hands away from your face.
“Does that ease your mind a little?” He asks, leaning down to kiss your jaw.
You hum in response and drag your hands through his hair, “It does.”
Conrad smiles against your skin and moves his lips down to kiss your neck.
“Alternative suggestion instead of going out for dinner,” You say, a little breathless against his contact, “We order in and stay in here for the rest of the day.”
Conrad pulls away from you and shifts so his face is in line with yours, “(Y/n) you just can’t get enough of me.”
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fvnalgirlcomplex · 5 months
Text
PRETTY ISN’T PRETTY ✸ J. HUGHES
and it begins!! this is irl but also mostly social media au because my tumblr is/was acting up and deleted most of what i had written and.. i’m lazy so!!! reader is referred to as ‘you’ and their looks are talked about but i tried to avoid describing looks… however… reader doesn’t have blonde hair but listen like every nhl fic uses a blonde girl for the fc so. i think its justified!! but sorry to anyone blonde reading lol. i didn’t rlly know how to end this tbh but i hope it’s still good and i hope u like it!! remember that you are beautiful! any negative things said obviously aren’t true :)
warnings: light mention/implication of an eating disorder, insecurities, hate comments, reader gets picked up (lowkey manhandled a little bit), suggestive comments (2), unedited writing
masterlist, series masterlist
fc: olivia rodrigo ( oliviarodrigo on ig )
summary: dating jack wasn’t gonna be easy, you knew that. you just thought him traveling a lot was gonna be the hardest, not being picked apart by his fans.
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bought a bunch of makeup,
tryna cover up my face
i started to skip lunch,
stopped eatin’ cake on birthdays
youruser
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liked by lhughes and 56,890 others
youruser 22!! shout out to cole caulfield
view 182 comments…
colecaulfield thank you for the shout out. I really needed it.
youruser anything for a fan
user19 she’s so cocky omg
yourfriend the cake was so good! you should’ve had some :(
youruser the cake wasn’t very big and i don’t really like cake that much anyways lol glad you liked it though!!
jackhughes ❤️
liked by youruser
user373 at least she chose a blurry pic so we don’t have to see her face lmaoo
jackhughes
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liked by trevorzegras and 120,293 others
jackhughes birthday girl 🎂
view 367 comments…
_quinnhughes haps
youruser damn. not even a full sentence 😔
user14 even his brother doesn’t like her lmao 💀
user298 i hope she knows she’s public enemy #1
user63 bro could do sm better
trevorzegras big! 22! 2️⃣2️⃣
user86 the way she looks at him though 🥹
user7 no..
user329 why are you so miserable
user738 he did her so dirty with the second picture 😭 makeup can only do so much but somehow she looks even worse than i imagined with no makeup
“I didn’t know it was such a big deal—”
“It shouldn’t have to be a big deal, Jack! I asked you not to post it, I don’t understand why you don’t listen!”
Maybe you were overreacting. Maybe you were taking your insecurities out on Jack when it really wasn’t his fault. But, it’s hard to stay calm when you’ve started to hate what you see everytime you look in the mirror, or someone takes a picture of you and that’s when you have makeup on. Words couldn’t describe how gross you feel without makeup on.
“I think you look gorgeous. I don’t know what the issue is.” Jack responded, too nonchalantly for your liking.
“The issue is that I don’t think I look gorgeous so I don’t want it out in the world for all your fans to see.” Jack sighed at your response. He knew what this was about but to him, you the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. He just couldn’t grasp how someone like you could be insecure.
“Y/n…” He said softly, grabbing the sides of your face. The mood in the room had quickly changed from tense to sad as soon as the word fans was mentioned. “You’re stunning. I know you don’t believe me but, you really are. All those comments are from a bunch of teenage girls who are jealous. I know it’s hard to block out but you just have to try ‘cause I wanna show everyone how pretty my girl is, okay?” Jack finished, trying to cheer you up. It didn’t really work to be honest but still, through glass eyes, you looked up at him and nodded before he brought you into a comforting hug.
You wanted to believe him, you really did. But it wasn’t just teen fan girls. It was also grown men. Men your boyfriends age who thought you were just as hideous. They couldn’t have been doing it for the same reasons as the fan girls. They had to have just been being honest, right?
‘cause there’s always somethin’ missin’
there’s always somethin’ in the mirror
that i think looks wrong
when pretty isn’t pretty enough,
what do you do?
You loved spending time with Jack. And you also loved getting to spend time with the people he cared about. But the pressure of looking good before going knowing that pictures would be taken, with or without you knowing, made you want to puke.
You started planning out your outfits far in advance, what shoes, how you’d do you hair, your makeup. Everything. You told yourself over and over again that the outfit is cute. You asked Jack about it and he always reassured you that you would look beautiful in anything and the friends you’d ask say the same thing.
But that still wasn’t enough to stop your brain from making you think everything was wrong. No matter you were wearing, when you looked in the mirror it just looked… wrong. Like something was missing.
“Babe?” Your boyfriends voice came softly through the bedroom door. Jack had invited you to the Devils Halloween Party this year which would be your first New Jersey Devils event. Jack and Luke were wearing matching spider-man costumes with Nico and Dawson who were currently at the brothers apartment. “You ready?” He asked you as he poked his head into the bedroom before fully stepping in, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah, I was just looking for my cat ears.” Lie. You were overanalyzing yourself like you always did before you went out but you knew if you told Jack that he’d feel bad and tell you that you didn’t have to go if you weren’t comfortable.
It wasn’t clear if Jack really believed your lie but he glanced around the room for the headband anyways before finding it on the edge of the bed next to you and placing them on your head for you.
Still sitting on the edge of the bed from when you were putting on your boots before you caught a look at yourself in the mirror, you looked up at Jack, who’s hands stayed on the side of your face after gently placing the headband on you.
Words weren’t exchanged as he looked at you, his thumbs tenderly moving over cheeks. He moved down to place a lovingly soft kiss on your forehead and then your lipstick covered lips.
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered against your mouth. You almost believed him.
njdwag.updates
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njdwag.updates y/n at the halloween party with a fellow wag. she went as a black cat 🐈‍⬛
view 103 comments…
theotherwag sweetest girl to ever exist 🩷
user273 jacks like 🥹
user33 is this a safe space?
user649 depends…
user33 i love yn. and i love yn and jack!! they’re so cute and it’s so obvious everyone that hates her is just jealous :/
user472 REAL!!! they claim to be fans of jack but hate to see him happy… like something isn’t adding up??
liked by 208 others
user634 wait jack went as spider-man and she went as a black cat?? she’s kinda funny for that
user710 jack probably didn’t want to outright match with her 💀
user845 her standing next to another wag.. this is so sad like jack!! wake up!!
and everybody’s keepin’ it up, so you think it’s you
i could change up my body and change up my face
i could try every lipstick in every shade
but i’d always feel the same
‘cause pretty isn’t pretty enough anyways
njdwags
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liked by 1,266 others
njdwags y/n y/l/n at her colleges football game with friends!
view 103 comments…
user968 everytime there’s a picture of her standing next to someone it really highlights how ugly she is LMAO
user263 idk why people hate her sm she’s so pretty
user945 she’s even prettier in person! i met her at the game and she was so nice. it’s so sad to see all the hate she gets :(
liked by njdwags
user293 we have class together!! she’s literally so sweet and smart
user683 ugly ass
user78 she chose a college football game over her boyfriends hockey game…
user537 why does she always have her tongue out 💀
and i try to ignorе it, but it's everythin' i see
it’s on the poster on the wall, it's in like every magazine
it’s in my phone, it's in my head, it's in the boys i bring to bed
it’s all around, it's all the time, i don't know why i even try
It’s like you couldn’t stop yourself from reading comments on posts about you. You knew you should ignore but it seemed impossible to ignore at this point.
You knew the comments would be negative like they always were but you always had hope they would be nice for once. And there was nice ones sometimes! But most were so overwhelmingly negative, you couldn’t even focus on the positives.
And it wasn’t just comments either, no. Not anymore at least. Since, you’ve read the comments, it’s like all the negative has leaked out of your phone and into every aspect of your life.
It was when you visited your family over winter break, you had totally forgotten about the posters you had in past years of icons from your childhood. Icons who were so how all skinny or blonde or had stunning blue eyes or all three. The break was supposed to get you away from all that and yet, you still cried yourself to sleep that first night.
Every aspect of life also included you and your boyfriend. You knew before you and Jack had started dating, he was constantly liking other girls bikini pics on instagram. And even though he had stopped doing that, you’d still seen tweets from his fans in the past joking about how he was “always at the scene of the crime” with a screenshot of his like on a picture of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. And while you tried to ignore it, you noticed of a pattern with all the girls. They looked a lot like the icons from your childhood. Nothing like you.
So now, late at night, when you were supposed to be having quiet and sweet moments with your boyfriend; your boyfriend that you didn’t get to see very often at that! You spent those moments thinking about those stupid likes on those stupid pictures of those stupidly beautiful girls.
And as for you, the comments had really gotten to your head. Even when you weren’t with Jack and you weren’t on your phone or in your childhood room. You still found someone to compare yourself to. It was like some kind of superpower.
and i bought all the clothes that they told me to buy
i chased some dumb ideal my entire life
and none of it matters and none of it ends
you just feel like shit all over again
Was this silly? It feel silly.
This didn’t feel like you but a change was needed.
Jack (and Luke) had been hanging out with the team all day and you had the day off. You had decided to spend the time alone shopping for clothes that you would’ve never worn before this past month and a box of blonde hair dye.
“We’re home!”
Luke’s voice rang through the apartment, snapping you out of your trance that you were in while staring out the box of hair dye taunting you on the bathroom counter.
“Y/n?” Now it was Jacks voice that made its way through the apartment.
“Bathroom!”
You could hear his footsteps come closer to the bathroom door before a knock on the door, hesitating before opening the door before him. He slipped in before locking the door behind him.
“I was gonna jump in the shower if he wanted to join me.” Jack told you, his hands sliding around your waist with his back to the door. Naturally, your hands slipped around to rest behind his neck, forgetting about the hair dye sitting on the counter.
“I think I’m gonna have to pass this time—”
“You’re gonna dye your hair?” Jack cut you off, his eyes focused behind you.
“Oh- Yeah, I just, um, wanted a change I guess.”
Jack didn’t say anything or take his eyes off of the box of hair dye. He didn’t buy it for a second but he just didn’t understand. How could you not see how beautiful you were. Jack had known the comments were bad, he just didn’t realize they were getting to you this badly. He looked back to you, who had a guilty look in your eyes. Jack sighed before moving you over to the counter, placing you next to the box.
“Baby, if you really want to dye your hair blonde; go for for it. But I don’t think you want to.” You couldn’t even look at him. You felt embarrassed that you’d been confronted about how out of hand these insecurities have gotten, even if it wasn’t really your fault. You felt like a child being scolded. “I know we’ve talked about this before but you really have to listen to me this time okay, babe?”
Jacks hand came up to your chin, gently pushing your head up to make eye contact with him.
“You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. I mean that. All those assholes just want to find someone to hate more than themselves and I’m sorry that dating me has made you a target for that. But blonde hair dye isn’t gonna make them stop. I’ll say something— I should’ve said something sooner but I’ll do it now. Just- Just don’t change for them because they won’t ever be happy. Pretty isn’t pretty enough for them, okay?”
You were crying now. Because you knew he was right and you were upset you had let them drive you crazy. You continued to cry as your boyfriends arm came around your frame. You uttered apologies, not quite sure for what, while his hand rubbed your back.
After a while, your tears stopped and Jack pulled away. “I love you. And I told you, if you really want to go blonde, go for it. I mean, you’ll look hot either way—”
“Jack!”
“Okay, okay. Blonde or no blonde.” He asked with a small smile on his face, holding up the box of hair dye.
“No blonde.”
Jacks smile grew as he threw the box into the trashcan. His hands slid down to your thighs, picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.
“So… can we get that shower now?”
623 notes · View notes
hecateslore · 3 months
Text
💌
Officesupervisor!Simon, walk with me!
"Have these documents uploaded, I have an important meeting with my boss at 1200. I need them as soon as possible." Simon drops the stack of papers on your desk with a loud thwack, causing others to look over their cubicles. You roll your eyes as he turns to walk back into his office. Not understanding military time you just assume before your lunch.
Working as a VSO had it's perks, you got to sit in an office, and if all of your work was done before a certain time you'd just dick around the rest of the day! Which was great at least when you weren't working the front of the office- answering calls, helping people apply for loans or setting old people up with life insurance.
You type away on your computer, air-pod in one ear as you try and quickly finish the task before 12:25 so one, you can take your lunch and have a smoke break (if you don't smoke ignore this lmao), and two; get away from the man child who employs you.
Finishing up at 11:56, you gather the documents into a large file and send them to Simon's work email. Getting a very dry response, you exit out the tabs on your computer and get ready to take an early lunch, hurriedly trying to clock out before someone stops you for some help or if you could finish this set of paper work.
A ping comes from your desktop causing your eyeballs to roll back into your head, fully expecting one of your coworkers emailing you about some unimportant time sheet, or a email you sent three years ago that they told you to void that day, but now they need it or whatever.
Subject: Brief Meeting
Come to my office, I need to go over what you just sent me.
Talk soon,
S.R.
A groan leaves your mouth as you push your rolly chair from your desk and get up, a pit in your stomach. Usually when Simon calls someone to his office they're getting ready to say bye bye! Simon was known for his no muss no fuss attitude, he wasn't completely stern but he was assertive. Extremely passive aggressive but everyone decides to ignore it. He likes his work a certain way, he's a punctual man, so when people failed to meet his employment standards- there was no trouble in ridding them.
The military background is no help either, he's very observant to the point it's annoying. Constantly calling staff meetings because he doesn't like the way a certain someone files the paperwork, greets a customer, writes a letter, answers the phone. You don't really care for him, You just come in do your work, greet your peers then leave, sometimes you work over time if rent is near, but that's pretty much it. You make good money here, you can't afford to lose your job, not now- not ever. Reaching his office door, You knock before hearing his muffled" come in."
Entering his room, Simon sits behind his rather large desk, clicking away at something on the screen, hand under his chin as if he's really paying attention. "You can have a seat right there" he points to the chair with a folder that was thick with paper work, you lift the "folder" handing it to him then finally planting yourself in the chair before him.
"I assume you're confused as to why you're here." Simon pushes his monitor for a better view of you. "A little bit. " you chuckle nervously,
"The documents you sent me I looked over them, and your work.." Simon pauses to pull up the file you sent not even forty-five minutes ago. "You managed to mess up 6 of these documents, not even adding the time you uploaded them." he sighs, "I don't see how you've been here for what? two? three years?"
"2." you answer, "I was crunched with time." you add, "Not an excuse. I told you I needed these done before my meeting, not rushed, not half-assed. Completed." you sit in your chair, the pit moving up slightly in your body "If we mess up, we can get sued; and you will lose your job, you're aware of that?" A lump forms in your throat.
"This is a warning, but If this happens again, I'll have no trouble finding a replacement." You nod quickly, "It won't happen again."
"I'm sure." he looks down at wrist, "It's almost your lunch I'm assuming." you nod once more, "Is there anything else?" you ask hoping to God this was it, "Stop wearing your headphones when you work, it's against the rules and make sure to close my door when you leave."
You get up from your chair and zoom to the door, making sure to shut it behind you. Your coworkers looking at you from behind their screens, some sending you a sympathetic smile as you walk back to your cubicle. You clock out on your computer, grab your bag and head towards the front to leave. You walk to the grocery store in the strip mall where your job's located, buying a Turkey and Cheese Croissant also a Matcha Latte (this is my order heheheeeee). You sit outside the stores mini patio, going over the events that just happened. "I'm sure" kept ringing through your head, this was the first time you ever been talked to! screw him (you'd like to! 😏).
You'd always been on time, your customers never complained about your services, you fill out paperwork for christ's sake. And god forbid you need some kind of stimulation while you stare at blue light all day. I mean who can work without music?
You finish your lunch and decide to walk around the mart a little bit before you get back. Dreading the looks from everyone, having to see the emails, talk to the elderly about burial benefits. It's all so annoying.
You make it back to the office doing your regular routine for after lunch, making sure to put your other headphone on the other ear so your boss wouldn't notice. You check your emails once more
Subject: Spread sheets
Attachment 1
Attachment 2
I need these filled in by Thursday next week, the first attachment is the paper work they've dropped off.
Second attachment is the spread sheet, match the date to the paper work. DOUBLE CHECK YOUR WORK!!
Thanks in advance.
S.R.
"Thanks in advance." you mock his accent earning a very hard sid-eye from the lady next to you.
"what a dick" you mumble to yourself.
supervisor!simon
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