#but then we literally couldn’t stop running into things related to it if that even makes sense

[ab4eva]

‘Ain’t That Loving You Baby’

Summary: Reader is out of sorts all day - grumpy, petulant, rude and just plain bitchy. Elvis takes it upon himself to set her straight.

Warnings: NFSW 18+, spanking, non-con spanking, established relationship, time period related ideas about marriage/relationships, copious use of pet names, use of the term “daddy”, fingering, aftercare, fluff. Please let me know if I missed anything.

Authors note: Y’all, sometimes inspiration for a fic strikes in the most unexpected of ways, as with this one. I know this isn’t everyone’s cuppa, so if I’ve tagged you and you aren’t into it, apologies and please just keep right on scrolling. Now please enjoy one of my top Elvis fantasies that I will write in as many different ways as humanly possible until the day I die.

Word count: 3.6k

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You couldn’t quite put your finger on it - why you were so out of sorts today. One minute you were close to tears, feeling sensitive and tender if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way or seemed the least bit careless with you. The next minute you were blowing up at some poor member of the Memphis Mafia, Vernon or even Elvis himself. You were grumpy, combative, and just generally in a very bad mood. It was as if a black cloud were hanging over your head, following your every step, raining on your own personal parade just to piss you off. The worst part was you knew you were being a brat but you were powerless to stop it. You felt itchy and irritated, on edge from the moment you stepped out the front doors of Graceland that morning to run your errands.

It didn’t help that when you returned, Elvis and the boys were lounging in the living room, making a right mess of things - beer bottles littering every surface, ash trays full to the brim with cigar ash, dirty plates covering the floor - it looked like a literal bomb had gone off. You’d just cleaned the entire house yesterday from top to bottom. Elvis had begged you to hire a housekeeper after you’d gotten married, but you were old fashioned, you saw it as the wife’s job to keep a clean house. And so you did…until all of these beastly men came and messed it up again. You surveyed the mess, a look of displeasure coloring your pretty face, your hands clenched into tight fists. Your heart pounded as you dug your fingernails into the soft flesh of your palm and tried very hard not to scream.

“Oh hey Y/N,” Red said lazily, the first of them to notice you standing in the doorway. “These cookies are damn delicious.” Your eyes zeroed in on his hand and you saw he held one of your freshly baked chocolate chip oatmeal cookies, the ones you’d painstakingly made dozens of last night. They were meant for the cookie exchange your book club was having tomorrow. Your eyes slowly surveyed the rest of the men in the living room, all of them perched here and there on the furniture or the floor… and all of them with cookies in their hands. The big platter heaped with cookies you had carefully placed on top of the fridge now sat almost empty in the middle of the coffee table. Your eyes found Elvis’s as you inhaled sharply and gave him a look that could kill. He had the good grace to look abashed as he quickly dropped the cookie he was holding, standing up slowly from where he sat on the couch as he moved towards you, holding both hands in front of him in a gesture meant to placate you but it only enraged you further.

“Now baby, we didn’t mean to eat all these here cookies, but you know they’re my favorite and I-I-I couldn’t resist. And I had to share with the guys, otherwise what kind of host would I be?” His blue eyes were sparkling with something close to amusement and his voice dripped honey, soft and low, soothing. He knew the look you were giving him, knew he had to tread carefully.

“Elvis…baby,” you said in a dangerous and mocking whisper, “those cookies were for my book club.” You spat the words out through gritted teeth, barely containing your rage. The thing is, you were usually so easygoing, so even-keeled, the very definition of hospitable to guests in your home. Normally, this wouldn’t even phase you. But today? It made you so angry you could barely speak. Poor Jerry had the unfortunate thought at that moment to try and smooth the situation over by offering to clean up the mess they’d made only to have you snap at him (“Don’t bother! None of you had the bright idea to even think before turning my living room into a pigsty!”) as you stomped out of the room.

Things didn’t end there as your rampage continued for the rest of the day, cutting down anyone and anything daring to cross your path. Vernon made the mistake of asking you about a shopping bill for some new dresses you purchased last week, innocently wanting to know the total so he could add it to the monthly expense account. You almost wrung his neck - the sheer audacity of the man! The Colonel came sweeping in cheerily in the late afternoon, trying to pull one of his old carney tricks on you, thinking it would lighten your mood. It had the opposite effect and you told him off so completely that even Elvis had to chuckle at it with a bemused smile. But the final straw came that evening, as you and Elvis sat peacefully (for his part, at least) in the living room, quietly reading after a rather tense dinner. You made some snide, off the cuff remark aimed at the way your husband’s business was being run and in an instant, you knew you’d stepped over the line, pushed Elvis past the limit of what he’s willing to take.

As soon as the words fly out of your mouth you wish you could pull them back in, gather the broken pieces of them and keep them inside. You suck in a gasp, your eyes flying to his face, realizing your mistake too late, realizing your bad mood has landed you here, in uncharted territory. Only once before had you taken things too far - two weeks after your wedding - Elvis had stormed out of the house in a barely suppressed rage only to return the next morning, acting as if nothing had even happened. You see his body still and his blue eyes widen in surprise before they darken, anger and annoyance flashing across his face before being replaced with a look of willful determination. You know that look, it’s the one he gets when he has an idea in his head, and like a dog with a bone, won’t let go until he gets what he wants. Your heart speeds up in your chest, pounding almost painfully, you feel a little lightheaded and your mouth goes dry. You swallow thickly, opening your mouth to apologize, to take back the words you’ve already said, anything at all to stop this train from hurtling off the cliff. “Elvis, I-,” the words start to tumble from your mouth in a rush before he cuts you off angrily.

“That’s enough!” he yells, his voice booming loud and firm, your ears ringing with the force of it. “Now listen here, girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into you today, but that’s. Enough.” His voice is now dangerously low as he punctuates each word with a stab of his finger in your direction, his gold rings glittering wildly in the soft light of the room. He stands abruptly and strides towards you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly and holding you there. You struggle against him, beating his solid chest with your closed fists like a child, not wanting to be held.

“Lemme go…let me go!” you practically scream in his face. Something inside you refuses to be comforted in this moment, you feel as if he’s suffocating you. You don’t want him to touch you, don’t want him near you. And yet, it’s all you want, to be here, in his arms. His deliciously musky scent fills your nostrils as he presses your head into his shirt in an attempt to calm you. His chest is heaving with restrained emotion and his wiry chest hairs tickle your nose through his unbuttoned collar. Confusion swirls in your brain, you’re too upset to sort through the emotions that have been tormenting you all day as you thrash against him. His lip curls up in an annoyed smirk as he grabs your flailing fists, pinning them to your side as his jaw clenches, his strong arms vise-like as he clutches you tightly to his chest.

“Now, you’re gonna tell me why ya got a bee in your britches, darlin. Why ya been a goddamn brat all goddamn day… or I’m gonna make ya tell me,” he commands, his voice rough and low. His eyes search yours and his nostrils flair slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to keep you in check as you still struggle against him. You can see the vein in his neck, the one that drives you wild, popping out - which means he’s excited or angry - or both.

“I’d like to see you try,” you spit at him scornfully, your bright eyes challenging him, your lip turning up into a slight sneer as you wriggle some more.

“Don’t test me, little one. I think someone needs an attitude adjustment and I’m just the one to give it to ya.” He squeezes you tighter in his arms as you squirm, still trying to break free, and suddenly you’re having a little trouble breathing. You stop moving for a moment and his grip loosens just a little as you gulp in a breath of air. “As your husband, it’s my job to set you right when you’re misbehaving. So I’m gonna ask ya again, darlin - why are ya so outta sorts today?”

You stare at him, at a loss for words. Truthfully, you don’t know what’s gotten into you. It’s just a bad day. You remember waking up and feeling fine, maybe a little tired. Elvis was already gone, his side of the bed cold and empty. He’d been distracted with contract negotiations when you found him in the kitchen, already eating breakfast. Without you. You had wanted to tell him a story about something that happened yesterday that made you think of him. But just as you were about to he was up and out for a meeting, without ever kissing you good morning. Or goodbye. All of these little things, you suddenly realize, subconsciously added up to you feeling neglected and uncared for by him. They had curled inside your belly without you knowing, sending sad thoughts to your brain all day long. You bite your lip as it all comes rushing in and you feel yourself close to tears.

You can’t tell him these things. They’re all too silly, too small, too insignificant in the grand scheme of it all. You just stare at him, your chest heaving, your eyes silently pleading with him to understand as a tear slips down your cheek unbidden. He softens for a moment, a dozen different thoughts flashing across his readable face. He gently wipes your tear with his thumb and presses a kiss to your cheek where it fell. Then he nods once, as if making up his mind about something. He releases you, grabbing your wrist again, practically dragging you over to the big, comfy chair at the edge of the living room. You go rather willingly, unsure of what his plan is. His other hand settles on the back of your neck, gently, as he starts to push you down over the back of the chair. You suddenly understand that something you have no control over is about to happen and you start to fight him again. But he keeps a firm grasp on your wrist as he keeps pushing your head down until you are bent almost in two over the back of the chair. If his iron grip on you didn’t entirely prevent you from moving, his strong, lean body standing behind you and pressing you into the chair does.

“Stop squirming, or I’ll have to tie you down.” His voice in your ear is breathy, somewhere between amused and annoyed. “Don’t think I won’t, honey. You’ve been ornery all day and you don’t get a say in what happens now, ya hear me? Just remember, this is for your own good. And I love you.” You stop moving, knowing he’ll do whatever he deems necessary to see this through. He releases his grip on you and steps to the side, his left arm settling heavily across your back to hold you down as he rucks your short dress up around your hips. You feel him run a hand across your round ass, cupping it and squeezing softly. You hear what can only be described as a delighted breath escaping his lips behind you, the soft huff of a chuckle, his ribcage expanding against your arm as he breathes deeply. The pressure as he grips your ass gets harder and harder before he suddenly stops and his cool fingers toy with the edge of your panties around your waist before he unceremoniously yanks them down to your ankles.

“Last chance, baby,” he says through gritted teeth, his tone stern as he pins you to the chair. You start to squirm again, panic rising in your chest. He’s about to spank you. He…he’s never done that before. Not even for fun. Your body starts to tremble and you shake your head, refusing to speak. You feel him raise his right hand and a ghost of a breeze whispers across your bare bottom. You squeeze your eyes shut and take a deep breath, your heart banging painfully in your chest, preparing as best you know how. You haven’t been spanked since you were a little girl and there’s something wrong, and slightly exciting, about it.

He delivers the first slap to your bottom with a firm, open palm, the impact of it echoing throughout the living room, the only other noise that can be heard is the ticking of a clock, your gasp and Elvis’s heavy breathing. You inhale sharply at the sting of it, but it isn’t as terrible as you were expecting and it dissipates quickly. You let out the breath you’d been holding, if this is all it is you can handle it. All is quiet and still behind you, and you wonder if that’s it…until you feel him lean down to speak in your ear again.

“That was just a warm up, little girl, ain’t gonna go that easy on ya for the rest of ‘em,” he murmurs, and you hear the love in his stern voice as you try and process what he’s saying. The rest of them? That was going easy? You start to wiggle, trying to break free once again and realize the whimpering noise filling the room is coming from your mouth. Before you can get too worked up he swats you again, twice in quick succession, a little harder than before.

“Ow!” you yell, incensed by your situation, kicking your feet a little. “That hurt!” You spit out through gritted teeth, angry now. “Elvis Aaron Presley, you let me go this instant!” Your demands are met with an amused laugh, and you let out a frustrated growl, trying and failing to twist out of his grasp.

“I see I haven’t sorted you out yet, honey. Still got some of that brattiness left in ya that needs to be broken. Your choice, little girl.” Elvis lets a small laugh slip, his eyes on your body as he slowly and deliberately brings his hand down on your ass again. It’s strong and forceful, but not cruel. It leaves you breathless, speechless. Finally the stinging has permeated your skin and refuses to leave. It’s starting to be uncomfortable and you can tell that if he doesn’t quit soon you’re going to have a hard time sitting tomorrow.

“You’ve been petulant, rude, acting like a damn child all day. And that’s not the woman I know and love, the woman I married. No wife of mine is gonna act that like that and get away with it - not to my friends, not to my father, and especially not to me. Do you understand?” His hand gently cups you as he lectures, rubbing softly over what must be your quickly reddening ass. You hiss and grip the the pillow in front of you. “Answer me, girl. Do you understand?”

You’re not done pouting…if he thinks he can break you, sort you out, punish you - let him try. You stay willfully silent, refusing to speak. You hear him sigh as he removes his hand from you and you brace yourself for another round.

“Have it your way, darlin’…I’m gonna give you six more and if you’re still in a state, then we’re gonna have to have a serious talk, you and me," Elvis says, suddenly quiet and solemn and your heart drops in your chest. Maybe this isn’t some game he’s playing? You didn’t realize it was as important as he’s now letting on. You know you were a total bitch today and you do regret your words and actions… You cry out as he spanks you again without warning, his palm landing with more force than he’s given you so far. He continues and the spanking is relentless, but there's also something almost hypnotic about it. It feels like his hand is on your skin forever, but before you know it, it's almost over. And unexpectedly you realize the last couple of swats have sent lightening straight to your core, your nipples are tight buds rubbing deliciously against the coarse fabric of the chair through your thin dress and you’re surprised to feel slickness gathering on your thighs. You don’t know when your cries turned to breathy moans but he stops abruptly as he hears you, still two spankings left to give.

You’re breathing heavily, still clutching the decorative pillow adorning the chair as you clench around nothing, surprising yourself and Elvis as an obscene squelching noise echoes across the now quiet living room. You let out a breathless laugh, flushing a deep red, thankful he can’t see the embarrassment written across your face. You feel Elvis laughing silently as well, quiet little snorts as he tries and fails to keep from giggling.

“Well now, this is a development I wasn’t expecting,” he murmurs in your ear, leaning over you, his warm breath floating across your cheek. You turn your face towards his, your glassy eyes trying to focus on him as you blink slowly. “Now that it seems I’ve sorted you out, what kind of daddy would I be if I didn’t also take care of my baby?” His right hand squeezes your bottom lightly as his left arm finally releases you and his hand slips underneath your hips, his long, cool fingers gently sliding up your soaking folds. Your breath hitches at his touch, letting out a whimper as he reaches your aching clit, circling it deftly with calloused fingers, once, twice, before dipping two of them into your wet heat.

“Goddamn, mama, so needy for me? Maybe I oughta spank ya more often,” he says breathlessly, his voice taut with desire. You know your husband well - it’s the way he sounds when his cock is hard and straining against his pants, aching to be set free. He’s probably already starting to leak, you think dimly, and the thought has you fluttering around him.

“Oh…” you manage to breathe out as he starts to pump his fingers into you agonizingly slow, his thumb finding your clit and applying light pressure. You rock your hips, already so close to the edge you can almost taste it. His right hand smacks your ass hard and you jolt forward, the feeling of his fingers inside you and his punishing hand on your backside has you starting to whine, unable to stop. He speeds up the movement of his hand, curling his digits just so into that sensitive and spongy part of you just as he delivers the final slap to your ass that has you clenching tightly around his fingers nestled inside you, coming harder than you have in a while, your high-pitched whine turning silent as you stop breathing for a moment. He groans above you and you feel him shaking slightly as he bends over your body - you know it’s taking everything in him to hold it together. After a few moments, he slowly releases you, helping you stand and your legs immediately buckle underneath you. Elvis grabs you under your arms to try and keep you from falling but you’re both so weak with spent energy and desire - yours fulfilled, his aching - that you both tumble to the ground in a heap.

"There. All sorted out, sweetheart?" Elvis smiles down at you as your head rests against his shoulder, his arm encircling your waist. His voice is rough but tender as he smoothes the hair back from your face. "How did daddy do?" he asks, a smirk pulling his lush lips up into a lopsided grin. You blink dazedly, trying to form a coherent thought.

“Daddy?” you finally say, rolling the unfamiliar word around on your tongue. “Hmm, I could get used to that, I think.” You smile softly as your hand reaches up to cup his face, your thumb brushing the scratchy stubble across his jaw as your eyes turn serious. “I am sorry, Elvis. For all of it,” you whisper, blinking back tears.

“Shh, little one, I know,” he says, kissing your forehead softly and pulling you closer into himself, cradling you on his chest as your hand nestles in his chest hair, right above his heart that beats only for you.

And at book club the next day, when you’re settled on a mountain of pillows, no one even bats an eye.

-

Tags - I don’t have a general tag list so I’m just tagging some lovies who have enjoyed my previous fics: @jelliedonut @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @butlersxbirdy @missmaywemeetagain @headfullofpresley @powerofelvis @notstefaniepresley @amydarcimarie @prompted-wordsmith @dkayfixates @sillybookmarks @melancholicbutterflies @thatbanditqueen @eliseinmemphis @godlypresley @ccab @richardslady121 @rjmartin11 @claire-elvisgirl @literally-just-elvis-fics

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis fanfiction #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis presley x you #elvis presley x y/n #elvis presley x reader #elvis imagine #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis smut #ain’t that loving you baby #written by ab4eva

[transmascissues]

hey i know your post about your mom was mostly just a personal vent, but i have to say, do you realize that also happens with trans girls and their fathers? literally happened to one of my friends. i’m not trying to downplay your experience or something but i found it strange that you seem to think this is something that only affects transmascs

i have one question for you: so fucking what?

i don’t doubt that trans girls have experienced similar things and yeah, that’s bad too, but what the fuck does that have to do with me and the specific things i’m facing as a result of being a trans man? i never said “look at this thing that happens to ONLY trans men and NO ONE ELSE,” i just said “hey, isn’t this thing that happens to a lot of trans men, including myself, fucked up?”

i would also like to point out that what you’re talking about is in fact a different (albeit similar) thing. the way cis people treat trans people can differ dramatically based on the cis person’s gender because their commitment to gender roles is, like, a major part of problem. the specific way a cis mother reacts to her trans son’s transition is often going to be very distinct, while a cis father will likely respond to his trans daughter in a different but equally distinct way.

what i’m talking about is a very specific kind of ownership and control and self-victimization and total lack of boundaries masquerading as love and care and maternal concern that cis women (i would argue white cis women in particular) project onto their transmasc kids when we do literally anything to our bodies. i’m talking about a phenomenon which is closely related to the way moms often pass eating disorders onto their daughters (or children they view as daughters) because they see a body that looks something like theirs and project all of their insecurities and ideals onto it. i’m talking about a form of parental transphobia and projection that’s specific to the dynamic of a cis mother and her child who was “supposed to” be her daughter.

if you’ve never felt that, you’re not even remotely qualified to tell me shit about how i should be talking about that experience, and if you couldn’t recognize that experience when you read my post, i’m guessing you probably haven’t experienced it because the replies to that post made it very clear to me that anyone who has experienced it firsthand immediately knew exactly what i meant.

like, yeah, cis dads also project onto their trans daughters, but are they likely to have a reaction like running away with actual tears streaming down their face? do you expect them to passive aggressively make comments about how sad their kid’s transition makes them, how it’s such a difficult emotional time, how it’s so tragic because their kid’s body was so beautiful before? do you think their go-to transphobic reaction will be weaponizing their emotions? i’m sure there are some dads out there who are like that, but i think we can agree they’re in the minority because that’s not how cis men are taught to react and parents like this tend to be pretty damn committed to following the gender roles they were taught.

and even if i’m wrong and our experiences are exactly the same, let me reiterate that i never said this was an experience exclusive to trans men. all i said is that it happens to us. that’s just a statement of objective fact.

this started in my life when i got my hair cut short for the first time almost a decade ago and it has not stopped since. i’ve watched my mom cry over me changing my name and respond to being asked if my happiness matters more to her than my name by saying “i care about both”, i’ve watched her melt down in a mall over me getting a suit for prom and give me the silent treatment for days after, i’ve heard her plead with me to stop t because it “looks unnatural” and she’s just so “concerned for my health”, i’ve watched her stare at me post-op and say “my poor baby” over and over like she’s looking at my corpse in a casket. i’ve watched her turn herself into the victim of every single aspect of my transition. i’ve had to live with this for 9 years and spent the early years of the pandemic literally locked in a house with it. this has been my entire adolescent and adult life, and the question of if i’ll have to cut her off someday (and maybe never see my cat or my little cousins who i love more than anything in the world ever again as a result) haunts me every single day.

who the fuck are you to tell me how to talk about that?

#i hope you weren’t expecting me to take this in good faith and give a nice measured response #because just so we’re clear you didn’t have a chance in hell of doing anything other than pissing me off #like in case you forgot i am a real person who this is happening to #in what world did you think i’d care about how an anonymous stranger feels about how i describe it when im the one who has to live it #idk man. some of y’all clearly do not see me as an actual person capable of emotion and it shows #also like. using a friend’s experience is wild bc 1) how do you know it was the same if it didn’t happen to you #and 2) would that friend really want you using their experience against another trans person experiencing something similar? #anon hate #ask answered #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia #transandromisia #transmisandry #virilmisia #virilphobia #anti transmasculinity #transmascphobia #trans men

[admirxation]

in that case... something nsfw with soldier boy? i was thinking him being a dom but then getting more sub as things go if it makes sense? 😏

Heya anon! Thank you so much for the request, I hope this lives up to your expectations. Love Soldier Boy sm so I’m glad I got to write for him !

Everyone that likes it, please like and reblog (it rlly helps) and if you're interested maybe read some more of my stuff? click here for masterlist.

Also, I have a Kofi, if anyone is willing to donate the link is here (you don't have to donate ik this economy is awful) <3

Dynamic Change | Soldier Boy one shot request

Pairing: Soldier boy x fem!reader (afab)

Summary: Soldier Boy is the answer to stop Homelander, Butcher's secret weapon, to get his revenge. While you're sceptical of this idea — sharing M.M’s concerns — you decide to just roll with the punches and see what happens. While waiting for Butcher and Hughie, you have to sit around and catch Soldier Boy up with the 21st century and try to keep him happy, convincing him to partner up and heal from his team's betrayal — but soldier boy notices something in you and wants to change the subject.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, so MINORS DNI. Female anatomy is used for the reader, and she/her pronouns and the reader is similar to Kimiko with enhanced strength because of compound v experiments. Detailed smut: dominance and submission (m starts dom and switches), pinning up against the wall, dirty talk, neck kissing, neck biting, thigh fucking, hair pulling, pushing to the bed with enhanced strength, f on top, p in v, cumming inside and begging.

As the evening sun cast a long shadow across the room, Soldier Boy sat in the bed and was dumbfounded at this strange and unique experience. He was a relic of the past; disorientated and confused, he found himself surrounded by an unfamiliar world of technology and societal changes. 

He was the key to Butcher’s new plan, the weapon to use against Homelander, but the one thing that was in his way was that Soldier Boy wasn’t complying with the “team up”. You, like M.M., were sceptical of all of this; could you really trust a supe to destroy another? Especially when looking at his history. But this feeling didn’t last long; you decided that this was the only option to get revenge that everyone was craving — to get Homelander to suffer finally. 

You were sitting on the sofa waiting for Butcher and Hughie to return; they told you they were running a few errands, which you knew meant ‘he’s your problem until we get back’. It wasn’t like you were in a vulnerable position, especially with the compound V that coursed through your veins and was the catalyst for your misery. It was something you and Kimiko could relate to; after learning her variation of sign language, you became closer and became each other’s comfort; you were similar to her in having enhanced strength, and this was another key component to the team — after Butcher was comfortable enough to accept you. After all, he couldn’t say no to extra manpower, especially when going against the worst villains. 

You looked to your side to look at Soldier Boy holding an empty bottle as he watched the television; he seemed to be in a sense of comfort but also tense with trying to understand the new world. Every joke that happened, every bit of news and culture change was swirling through his mind; you felt bad for him and wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes — frozen and betrayed. This sympathy lasted until his intolerance slowly emerged; you tried to ignore him and understand that he was literally from a different time. Your modern presumptions were unfair, but that was still a hard pill to swallow.

“What the fuck is that?” he questioned with an exclamatory tone. 

“What? The guy with his baby?”

You were watching the adverts, which showed a device a man could use to have his baby close to him, to help fathers. 

“That’s what being manly is now?” he took another sip of his new and fresh bottle, “Man, you lot went soft.”

You rolled your eyes, trying not to rock the boat too hard. You didn’t want to have to answer to Butcher if you ruined all his plans. You had powers but were still intimidated by Butcher; after getting into trouble with Vought, you didn’t want to face the future alone without your team.

“Just a man wanting to be with his baby… Probably helps the wife out as well,” you paused momentarily, “I know it’s a shock, but we don’t live in the detergent commercial anymore; things changed.”

Soldier Boy furrowed his brows, looking at you with a confused expression. 

“Personally, I think it’s sweet to see a man care that much about his child; it shows he doesn’t want to leave the mother and the child,” you felt the need to stand up for your beliefs around him. 

Soldier Boy started to look away from you and thought about your words; you could tell he was slowly seeing your point while thinking he couldn’t be caught wearing the contraption. He knew that being frozen didn’t damage his intelligence. 

“I know what you mean… I always wanted children.”

You were surprised; the Soldier Boy wanted children; he seemed like the player that would never properly settle down with anyone; you also felt a strange feeling with acknowledging that this was the beginning of Soldier Boy being vulnerable with you, wanting to break some barriers. 

“Really, Soldier Boy, wanting children… Don’t take offence, but I never thought about that.”

“I don’t take offence,” he paused momentarily, “Also, just call me Ben… I know you by Y/N, not your hero name.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What? But —”

“Forced to have it,” you took a deep breath, “I didn’t get the opportunity to choose; I was experimented on.”

“Wow,” he had to process what you said, “I’m sorry… That must have been hard.”

“It was, but at least I can protect myself now.”

Ben was already accustomed to your powers. He wasn’t impressed by them but was glad to see someone without a costume on, someone grounded; still, he had sympathy with knowing that his powers were on his terms while you were the guinea pig — at least a surviving one. 

“Guess that guy was right… I can’t find my team without the knowledge of today.”

“Yeah, Hughie was right,” you started to get up from the sofa, “Look, I don’t want to rock the boat, but —”

Ben cut you off: “Then don’t, already told that Hughie, Butcher and now I’m going to tell you… I’m not interested in helping anyone; I don’t care what you did for me… My old team used to be there for me and look where trusting them got me… Handed to the reds.” 

“That was the past, we will help you, and all you have to do is add one more person to the list… We practically made Countess a human sacrifice for you, Hughie and Butcher have found the rest and Black Noir is a part of the Seven. Now we can —”

“Y’know, sweetheart, you might think having a team is a good thing; you get the job done, then you can laugh when the working day is over… Look, I’m sure you’re a great person, but one day, your team won’t see that. I see the way Butcher talks about people like us,” he motioned with his hands to sign you both, “He’ll make you bait in a plan one day. Get rid of you as mine did… Betray me and made me think they loved me.” 

Ben was momentarily lost in thought, and you could tell he was thinking about Crimson Countess. When you met her, you were with Frenchy and Kimiko; you felt sympathy for her after watching her pathetic little tribute to Soldier Boy; after she spoke, you honestly thought there was a reason for what she and the team did; you had gathered the puzzle pieces a long time ago after investigations and using Annie for information. Yes, Ben was stubborn, but for a good reason; if you were in the same shoes and had the boys betrayed you and left you dead for decades, forgiveness wouldn’t be on your list. 

“They wouldn’t do that to me; we’ve gotten into too much trouble together… Think we’re thick as thieves at this point,” you let out a small laugh to lighten the mood, “I know it hurts… Especially with Countess, but you need to help us… We need you.” 

“It’s hard to forget,” he let out a deep sigh, “Y’know I wanted some rugrats of my own, with Countess, yeah ain’t that a bitch…wanted a couple of little boys and raise them up to be men, now? Now I got nothing.” 

This man had lost everything, was confused and experimented on, and you could relate to him in those ways; after being forced away from home under the name of curiosity and needing to match the American supes, you were just the surviving sample. But to lose love and know that they felt nothing for you is a different type of hurt, and you didn’t want to imagine that.

“I’m sorry, but if you do change your mind,” he shot a sharp look at you, “if you change your mind. You can live your life, be free from suffering and find a woman you can have fun with… You don’t need Countess.”

You tried to give him support until you saw a mischievous smirk that crept on his face, and he looked you up and down, taking a step towards you which you mirrored by moving behind; you clenched your fingers into a fist as you had an idea of what that smirk meant, thinking in your mind that you were probably overreacting and that nothing would happen. Your back hit the cold wall, Ben still moving in your direction, his face inches away from yours and his arm moving to pin you up against the wall; you moved your face away from him to tell him you were uncomfortable with this through your body language — but his behaviour continued. 

“Maybe I want to have some fun with you, honey,” he whispered, sending shivers down your spine. 

While standing there, you were conflicted; you had heard the stories and shared the same hatred for the supe’s with too much power, but Ben seemed different. Granted, you didn’t know everything about him and weren’t around when he was at the peak of power, but you were attracted to him. How he looked at you, feeling his hot breath trail along your neck as you made you feel helpless under his touch. 

“Do you think that is a good idea?” you met his eyes when you asked. 

“If you want me to stop… Just say,” he whispered into your ear again. 

You didn’t want him to stop, it was a strange situation to be in, but you wanted to see where this would go; after all, Butcher and Hughie wouldn’t be back for ages, and this could be used as some fun for you and to get Soldier Boy on the team. 

“Thought so,” Ben then started to kiss your neck. 

You gasped under his lips touch, feeling his smirk now and again when he heard you whimper and felt your hand place on his bicep, showing that you loved what he was doing and that you didn’t want him to stop. It felt wrong after hearing the stories about him, but you couldn’t help the attraction you felt towards him and the sympathy built up from your conversations. You wanted to just forget about the past and melt into the current situation, enjoying every sensation and feeling that made you tingle with pleasure. 

“I knew you were a dirty girl,” you moaned a little as he bit your neck, leading to a gasp every time he bit down harder and harder to the point a mark was left on your neck. 

His fingers then wandered, grazing over the deep v-neck collar on your dress, sliding his fingers down your breast as he continued to leave hickies and get harder when hearing your moans and whimpers. 

“For someone that was frozen, you’re really good at this,” you muttered with your eyes shut and feeling the sensations Ben gave you. 

“Shut up and enjoy what I’m giving you,” you got wet with his words. 

His wandering hand then made its way down to where your dress ended, lifting it up to reveal your panties already submerged in a wet spot; this sent another shiver with anticipation running through your mind — trying to figure out what Ben wanted to do to you first. He moved his lips away from you and started to unbuckle his belt, leading his pants to drop to the ground and reveal his lower half. You looked down and saw his length, getting even wetter at the sight of it. 

“Like what you see, doll?” you nodded. 

Ben smirked at your compliance, continuing to leave hickies on the other side of your neck and positioning his cock in between your thighs, moving his hips with a back-and-forth motion and feeling your wet, clothed pussy on his member. Running his fingers through your hair and grabbing fistfuls, pulling it and making you wince now and again.

“I love how you’re such a little slut for me right now.”

You couldn’t get any words out with the pleasure you felt at that moment, the dominance and power Ben had over you, but while you were enjoying it, you wanted the dynamic to flip a little bit — have a taste of that dominance he gave you. 

“How about we change some things… I’m sure you will like it,” you offered as you pushed him away from you, gently putting your hands on his biceps again, seeing him beg for you with his cock in between your soft thighs. 

“Hm, guess I’ll allow it… What do you have in mind, sweetheart?” 

He moved away from you, wondering what was happening in your dirty little mind, trying to figure you out — failing in the multiple attempts of analysing how you looked at him. You stepped towards him, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing him to the bed, your strength showing with the way the bedframe hit the wall and leaving a large crumbly dent in the wall. 

“Feisty… I like it,” you could tell Ben wanted more, liking how you were in control now. 

You started to take your dress off, slowly unclasping your bra and revealing your naked body by stripping your underwear down your legs, slowly moving on top of him to straddle and rub your wet centre against his hard cock. 

“Mmph, that feels good,” Ben started to shudder with this new feeling, a sensation he knew he would want more of. 

“Do you want to feel me?” you asked him, grinding on him even more as you awaited his answer. 

“Please, sweetheart, please.”

“Beg for it then.” 

You loved every minute of this, seeing him vulnerable but excited by what you were doing, the dynamic flipping and making him switch behaviour. 

“Oh, come on, sweetheart, let me have it… I’m starved for you.”

“More, baby.”

“Let me fuck you, please; I’m desperate to know how you feel… Come on, baby,” he was squirming while he begged.

You decided to let him have it, let him have some sort of dignity left as you hooved over and positioned your centre to let his cock inside of your wet hole. 

“Oh fuck,” Ben moaned. 

Finally, feeling your walls surround his cock. You smirked when seeing his smile, him closing his eyes to appreciate the moment; you started to bounce up and down on his dick and moan every time you went down for another stroke, your moans being harmonious with Bens and leading to a pool of pleasurable sounds bounce off the walls; it felt so good, and you could feel Ben want more. He put his hands on your hips, you pushing them away to drive him crazy. 

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t go touching.”

“Oh fuck, you’re so good at this,” he moaned again. 

He had many experiences before he was frozen with Countess and other women, but this was different. You were taking control, flipping the dynamic and letting him feel the pleasure while he was under your touch; different but still enjoyable to Ben. You moved your hands to either side of Ben’s head, your breasts lying on Ben’s chest as you continued to bounce and feel the joy fucking him was giving you. He was biting his lip, trying his best not the cum too fast, but this was getting futile the quicker you kept feeling each stroke; wanting to feel him release inside of you — a feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time. 

“Please let me cum; I’m dying over here… Please.”

You thought about it for a moment, giving a lick and nibble on Ben’s neck to leave him wriggling around in gratification. 

“Go ahead then,” smirking while talking. 

You continued to grind your hips up and down, only this time your hands were placed on Ben’s shoulders, shoving him down into the mattress; leaving bruise imprints on his skin. 

“Fuck,” Ben let out a loud and deep gasp. 

While feeling Ben’s warm release inside you, this was met with your mutual pleasure, trying to catch your breath as you processed everything that happened; your eyes still rolled to the back of your head as you felt every little bit of Ben’s cum warming inside of you, dripping out when you moved away and collapsed next to him. 

“That was amazing,” Ben said in between deep breaths, caressing your arm as he turned around to meet your face covered in a red dust of blush. 

“You can have more… If you join us.”

“How can I say no?” 

Authors note: I'm sorry this took so long, been busy with going out (having a fun time what can I say) as well as doing research for a current university project I'm working on. I hope this is good, if it isn't then... idk click off haha. If anyone has more requests please message me or submit (with user or as an anon idm). have a good day/evening <3

#soldier boy x female reader #the boys smut #the boys #the boys tv #soldier boy #the boys season 3 #jenson ackles #soldier boy oneshot #anon request #request open #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy smut #begging #dominance and submission #switch #the boys x reader #soldier boy x you #reader insert #the boys reader insert #fanfiction #smut #ao3 fanfic #x reader #y/n #smut oneshot #smut request #wrote this instead of sleeping #sorry for taking so long #requests open

[lettheladylead]

Hi! I was looking through Magica De Spell’s Wikipedia page today and it says that Magica has a sister named the Wicked Witch of the West, who has children named Witch Child and Warlock. I couldn’t find any information of them online so I was wondering if you knew anything about them, if they exist at all.

If they don’t, do you think you could instead do a character post on Magica’s cousin Matilda? Your old family tree posts helped me a lot in understanding Duck lore.

Aw I'm glad those posts help!! I'm still down for making them 'cause it's a lot of fun for me to find old comics and do some research.

So before I talk about Witch Child, I wanna clarify some things that are relevant to the character.

This is another case where Americans can't stop themselves from taking "sister" and "aunt" literally. Aunt can be used to refer to any older woman in someone's life. Sister is frequently used in stories about witches (because a coven is like a sisterhood/sorority, it's a whole thing). Neither imply blood relation! Even "cousin" is often used to refer to friends/neighbors. Different cultures and languages treat words like that very differently than Americans do.

Witch Child, Warlock, & Witch of the West are all from a very specific time period of Brazilian duck comics where Magica and Madam Mim (from The Sword and the Stone) were living together/dating/???? and interacted with other Disney movie characters. In this specific timeline, the ducks live amongst regular humans which is very strange but you just gotta accept it. Magica also lives in Duckburg I think? It seems like she and Scrooge just run into each other randomly so I believe she and Mim have a house in Duckburg for whatever reason

"Witch Child" is not her name and I don't know why she's referred to like that on InDucks/other wikias. Her name in Brazil (where she was created) is Magali, in Italian she's Maghetta/Maghina/Streghella (inconsistent names in translations are very common), and in French she's Seraphine. None of her comics have an official English publication so again idk where "Witch Child" comes from! But I'll probably refer to her as Streghella for the remainder of this post 'cause it's easier that way.

OKAY now for details:

In Streghella's first comic, Magica gets a letter from a friend asking her and Madam Mim to babysit her friend's daughter. Streghella is whiny and rude and a troublemaker. She ruins a magical career opportunity for Magica and it's pretty funny

Then there's a whole bunch of comics where she just appears for no reason, making trouble. She's a surprisingly powerful witch but she just loves to piss everyone off, especially Mim.

Another important note about Streghella - she was only really drawn by two comic artists during the height of her appearances (in the 70s, pretty much). The above drawings were all done by an artist named Jim Fletcher. But she had a lot of appearances drawn by an artist named Glenn Schmitz, who drew her completely differently.

I don't know if I would've realized these were even the same character if it wasn't documented lol but y'know they didn't have the same resources in the 70s that we have now so they did what they could.

Anyway, from what I can tell her personality stayed mostly in tact through most of these comics. Whiny, stuck-up, nosy, but also very funny and magically powerful. She would occasionally interact with Scrooge or HDL but mostly her appearances were in Magica and Mim comics.

Oh there's one comic where she looks like this for some reason?

BUT THEN what's interesting is Streghella making a few appearances years after her comics all came out. First there was one comic in 1995, then twice in 2011 and once more in 2016. There's also apparently a 2020 appearance but I couldn't get my hands on it :(

In her 1995 appearance she looks really cute but her personality is, well. Personality-wise she's completely unrecognizable. Now Magica makes comments about Streghella always trying to be good and getting in trouble for being good all the time.

(Ignore the bad english translation I was just popping pages into google translate lol)

She's still a troublemaker in the sense that she tries to trick Magica and Mim into consuming a potion that will make them good, kind people. But then the comic ends with Magica doing something nice by choice and it's cute but yeah the character is nothing like her original self.

Her first 2011 comic is where she...wants to go to a Jonas Brothers concert and chats with April May & June online to try and make it happen. Something like that. It follows along with "Streghella is too kind and Magica tries to teach her to be evil" from the '95 comic, but for some reason the colorist made Streghella a brunette. Idk! They also forgot her iconic hat!

Next 2011 comic has Huey Dewey and Louie accidentally traveling to a magic academy. It's very Harry Potter-y? I guess? Streghella is friendly and does some magic. You can tell it's her 'cause of the pigtails and bows. But still no hat :(

In her 2016 appearance, she's been reading April May and June's blog and wants to help them with some problem. Magica is like no be mean and Streghella's like no I want to help! You get it.

This comic is pretty fun. Magica turns herself into Grandma Duck and puts a truth potion into some cake Streghella bakes for the Duck Family and gets a bunch of secrets out of them.

There's also a joke at the end where Daisy accidentally reveals Brigitta's age to everyone (we don't get to see it) but according to this comic, Brigitta is much older than she looks lol Not that we didn't already know that.

Anyway so that's all there is to know about Witch Child/Streghella. She's cute!

Warlock time!

Warlock is Streghella's brother. He's only in four comics total and they're mostly very early comics - his real name is just whatever Streghella's name was at the time but with an -o at the end. If she's Maghetta, he's Maghetto. If she's Maghina, he's Maghino. You get it. He'd probably be Streghello if he had a named appearance more recently.

His personality is not very distinct from Streghella's. He's also magical and a troublemaker. In his first comic he arrives in the mail, in a, like...little jail cell? Crate? Idk? And then Magica and Mim eventually box both kids up into the crate and ship them away.

(Yes that's supposed to be him, apparently.)

He appears in the magic school comic as well...

And that's it! There's not really anything else to know about him.

Last but not least...the Witch of the West! Actually, that's a lie. Least. She appears just the one time. And I'm gonna be honest. I don't think she's the biological mother of these bird children.

'Cause yeah she's a human witch. Idk if she's from another Disney property or if she's supposed to be the witch from the Wizard of Oz. Idk man. But Streghella calls her "mama" and she refers to Streghella as her daughter so I'll take those ones literally.

There's nothing much to say about her - she doesn't have a name and all she does is drop her kid off with Magica and then reappear when Mim and Magica threaten to lock Streghella inside a bottle.

NOW if you're wondering...how do these characters connect to the previously known characters that are related to Magica De Spell?

They do not! The fact that Streghella has made a few recent appearances means you can decide how you want her to fit in, but trying to blend these different canons will not be seamless. You just gotta take what you like. Streghella frequently refers to herself as Magica's apprentice so you can always take that route, too.

Aaaaaaaaaand since you asked, I'm happy to talk about Matilda! God there are too many Matildas in duck comics. I have never met a woman named Matilda in my life. It's fine.

Matilda De Spell (not an official name but I call her that anyway) - Magica's teenage cousin! Is she actually, biologically, Magica's cousin? Probably not. But it's fiiiiiiine.

I did actually scanlate all three comics that Matilda appears in, so you can read them if you'd like:

There's not really anything to know about her outside of these comics. She's tomboyish, spunky, fun. Really looks up to Magica. I think their dynamic is fun and I always like to see more teen characters lol I think I've portrayed Matilda as Amelia De Spell's younger sister but that's definitely not canon, just me trying to stick the blondes together.

Anyway sorry this ended up being such a long response. I haven't had the opportunity to research random duck characters in a while. I hope this has the answers you wanted :)

#streghella de spell #matilda de spell #magica de spell #madam mim #streghello de spell #duck comics #topolino #thekrakenexperiment #carro answers #family tree #duck family tree

[simplyholl]

Across the Multiverse Pt. 1 [Loki x F. Reader]

*This is almost finished, so I will try to post an update at least once a week. I do have a toddler, so no promises. All the hugs to @lokisgoodgirl for reading this and holding my hand through the whole thing. You’re the best!

Summary: Y/N and Loki’s relationship takes an unexpected turn after one of Stark’s parties. When they are sent on a mission to find their multiversal selves, will they realize they should be together? 

Pairing: Avenger Loki x F. Avenger Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Incorrect use of multiverse travel. 

Your best friend Loki always came to your room after he sent his latest conquest packing. He had an endless line of women who couldn’t wait to be the newest notch on his bed post. You had never seen the same woman twice, and he made them leave right after. Then it was the same routine with you. He would make his way next door to your room where you would watch a movie, have snacks, and cuddle.

When you joined the Avengers, you had to do a lot of interviews together. Often paired while training, you two had just clicked. Your friendship had started by giving each other book recommendations, reading together, and eating breakfast after training.  Then came the interview. The one that shot you into best friend status, was one you would never forget. The interviewer incessantly berated Loki for the attack on New York, how some people still viewed him as a villain, and how could we believe he had changed. This was all old news. Loki had been with the team for a while. He had more than proven himself. You could tell the endless questioning was getting to him.

So, you spoke up. “How dare you question his loyalty to us. He has defeated countless enemies to protect this world. He was mind controlled during the attack on New York, so that wasn’t his fault. I trust Loki more than anyone on this team. I’m sure he gets tired of saving people like you, who doubt him daily. But he does it anyway, because he is a great guy.” Loki placed his hand on your thigh and gave you a thankful smile. Ever since that day, Loki got closer to you. He opened up more. He told you about his mother, his childhood being in Thor’s shadow, and his Jotun heritage. He knew you saw right through his cold façade. He trusted you.

“What are you thinking about?” Loki interrupted my wondering mind. I smile lazily at him as I snuggle into his chest. “Just thinking about our friendship.” “I am honored to have you as a friend, Y/N.” Yeah FRIEND, I almost laugh out loud. It’s not that I’m jealous of his harem or anything. I’ve just thought about what would happen if we crossed that line. I have no doubt that it would be mind blowing. He wouldn’t have all these women trying to jump him, if he wasn’t great in bed. My room is also beside his, so I hear everything. It’s kind of sad. I’m stuck in my room with my vibrator, forever single. While he is getting laid every weekend.

Maybe it’s not even him, I’m just horny since it’s been a while right? But he has those long, curly, raven locks that I would love to run my fingers through. The body of a literal god, and oh stop thinking like that! He will never take me to bed. If he did, he would treat me like those other women. He would toss me out on my ass after rendering me speechless. One night of great sex isn’t worth ruining what we have.

~The Next Weekend~

The music is booming over the speakers as I make my way to the bar. If Tony’s parties are good for anything, it’s free alcohol. I glance across the room searching for Loki. Four women surround him. One on each of his arms, the other two trying to get as close as possible. He is putting on a show for them, fireworks dancing in his hands. He catches me staring and winks at me. I turn around smoothing my dress. That’s it! I am not going back to my room alone tonight. I take a shot hoping it will soothe my nerves. I’ve never had a one-night stand before. It’s been too long since I was in a relationship.

I take a deep breath. I can do this. “You look stunning tonight.” Bucky grins checking me out. “Thank you. Hey, do you wanna dance with me?” “Sure thing, doll.” He grabs my hand leading me to the dance floor. A slow song comes on, he pulls my body close to his. His hands rest on my hips, the coolness of his metal arm makes a chill run over me. I rest my head on his broad chest. “Hey Y/N, there’s nothing going on between you and Loki is there?” I laugh at the ridiculous insinuation. “No. Why?” “Because he is looking at me like he is going to kill me.” I glance over at Loki to confirm. Sure enough, he looks really pissed off. “I’m not sure what that’s all about. But I do know it has nothing to do with me. Don’t worry about it.”

The next song plays and I back it up on Bucky in time with the fast beat. I gyrate my hips while his hands roam all over my body. When I turn around Bucky’s lips find mine. His tongue explores my mouth as I pull him closer. I am ready to take him back to my room when I feel a large hand on my shoulder. “Y/N, I need to speak with you.” Loki’s eyes are filled with rage as he takes in the scene before him. “I’m a little busy right now, Lo, can’t it wait?”  

I’m pleading with my eyes signaling that I was trying to get busy with Bucky. Surely, he knows where this was going, that it has been so long for me. He jerks my hand off Bucky, practically dragging me away. “No, it is an urgent matter.” I look back at Bucky and mouth sorry. “What is so important? I was about to get dicked down for the first time in forever by a SUPER SOLDIER, Loki! A super soldier.” I whine. “Just imagine what he can do with that metal hand.” My rant is cut short when Loki slams me against a wall. I peek around his shoulder to find we are in his room. “Loki, what are you doing?” He breathes deeply, eyes conflicted.

“Do you really think he could fuck you better than I could, Y/N?” My heart stops for a second while I realize what he said. “I – um, what?” I stutter, my voice barely recognizable. Loki pushes my hair away from my neck. He places a trail of kisses from my collar bone to my jaw. I’m not sure if I’m breathing. He stops his assault, looking into my eyes intently. “I said do you think he could fuck you better than I could? A super soldier? That is what you desire, love? I am a god. He wouldn’t be able to make you come. I would leave you a whimpering mess, and you would still beg for more.”

He places more kisses to my jawline. “Let me worship you, darling.” He doesn’t have to ask me twice. I nod my approval. “Before we begin, I have two rules you must follow. Number one: do not fall in love. This is the most important of the two. I will never be in love with you, and I do not wish to hurt you. Rule number two: This will only happen this once. I never take Midgardian women to my bed more than that. You lot are too fragile with your feelings. You get attached too easily. The last thing I need is an obsessed woman following after me like a lost dog.” He looks intently into my eyes gauging my reaction.

“I will do whatever you want, Loki. Just please touch me.” His smile turns wolfish as he grabs my face. His lips crashing into mine. When we part, he lifts my dress up. I watch as he peppers kisses on my thighs. He places a kiss to the front of my soaking panties before sliding them down my knees. He tosses them over his shoulder. I cry out in surprise as he lifts me up against the wall. He laughs wickedly as he bunches my dress around my waist.

“I lie awake at night imagining this, Y/N. Wondering how you would taste, what sounds you would make as I brought you pleasure.” “Loki, please?” I beg him gripping his hair trying to pull him closer. He wastes no time. He licks a stripe up my center before suckling my clit. His name a prayer on my lips. I pull on his silky curls as he moans against me. “Tastes so good.” He devours me while pleasure hums low in my stomach. “More, Loki.” He pushes me harder against the wall. I hold onto those glorious, muscled arms. He eats me like a man starved, and I am more than willing to be his feast. “Loki, I’m c... oh God, Loki!” I come down from my high. He places a gentle kiss to my thigh as he sets me down. My legs are so wobbly. I don’t think I can stand on my own. I reach for him to support myself. But he swiftly picks me up placing me on his bed.

He waves his hand and my dress disappears along with his clothes. I can’t help but stare at him. I don’t have long to take in his beauty before he climbs on top of me. He sinks into me completely claiming me. With his moaning against my neck and experienced fingers circling my clit, it doesn’t take long before I am coming undone again. Loki follows close behind. He lays his head on his silky forest green pillows smiling at me.

I don’t think I can handle my best friend throwing me out of his room. So, I stand up covering myself with my hands. I walk over to my clothes long forgotten in the floor. Loki sits up as I start putting my now wrinkled dress back on. “Y/N, what are you doing?” “I was going to go back to my room to shower and give you some space. I know you don’t like women staying over.” His face holds a look of concern while he considers my words.

“I have a bath drawn for you if you wish to stay.” He takes my hand leading me to his bathroom. I step into the warm bath, getting used to the water. Loki climbs in as well. “I thought you said this bath was for me?” I tease.  “I could not leave a beautiful lady to clean herself after I have so thoroughly ruined her.” He smiles while lathering soap on the soft cloth. He pulls me closer starting to wash my arms. When he gets to my breasts, he ditches the cloth using his hands to apply the soap. I moan as he pinches my nipples.

He continues massaging me, working his way lower. I squeak in surprise as he slips one long finger inside me, then another. He laughs mischievously. I lay my head on his porcelain shoulder grasping onto him as I come undone for the third time. When I can think clearly, my eyes find his. “I thought you said we were only going to do this once?” He scans my face, lowering my body onto his. As he sinks into me, he whispers, “Once is not enough.”

Part Two

Tags

@lokisgoodgirl @sarahscribbles

#loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki smut #loki x yn smut #loki x reader smut #across the multiverse

[summerf0x]

I think it’s weird how the monarchy is never really punished in Wings Of Fire.

The go-to solution is always just “replace the old evil queen with a new, not evil queen!” The sandwing sisters? Replace them with Thorn. Scarlet? Replace her with Ruby. The rainwing queens and Battlewinner? Replace them with Glory. Aside from a couple comments about how the rainwing’s contests being a nonviolent way to determine the queen while also giving everyone regardless of status a chance to rule, there isn’t much criticism of the monarchy when the New Better Queen rolls in.

The first arc is practically a powerpoint presentation on how bad it is; the three sandwing sisters tear apart the continent because Blister and Blaze couldn’t win in a duel so they drag everyone else into their mess. The correct thing here is getting Thorn to become the queen, who stops the war and does literally nothing about the Scorpion Den despite living there for mostly all her life.

Queen Scarlet openly supports and profits from this system. She runs a gladiatorial arena filled with P.O.Ws and makes them fight each other for the amusement of her court and Burn. The solution to these events which presumably would leave a lasting scar on the skywing kingdom is just get Ruby to replace her. Ruby chooses to stay out of the war, turn the arena into a hospital, and work on expanding relations with the other kingdoms. This is fine in theory, but it does nothing to stop a new queen from doing the exact same things that Scarlet did. Hell, in her brief coup Scarlet does this:

Queen Coral, while not a major supporter of the war, still allies with Blister and kills or dismisses multiple of her own subjects intentionally as a punishment for those who fail her (Webs’s wife, Snail, Herring’s brother, Tortoise). Tsunami’s gradual disillusionment with the royal lifestyle reaches its peak when her mother orders her to get thrown in jail, but the buildup to that is Whirlpool’s existence and Tortoise getting her teeth ripped out in front of her. We never loop back to this, just get a couple comments about how she’s better now that Blister’s gone. As much of a throwaway line as it was, Coral still enforced classism and neglected her other children, but as far as the series is concerned, she’s a new person.

The Rainwing court suffers from and entirely different problem (Kestril’s abuse towards Glory is because she’s a “lazy rainwing” and this turns out to be true? how is that the direction you go in?) but still falls in the same pitfalls as the others. Glory becomes the queen and she is clearly more fit for this job than those awful, vain, common rainwings from before. It also turns out that she’s Grandeur’s relative, who was still around when there was an actual rainwing royal family, so she’s even more fit for the job!

The nightwings are more similar to the other monarchies. Instead of looking at how their isolation caused them to develop a system circled around lies and their own supremacy and how it could be dismantled, the two guys at fault (Battlewinner and Morrowseer) get exploded and now Glory’s their queen, who despite being six (or however old that is in human years), has enough sense to rule over two entirely different groups of dragons that she has rarely interacted with aside from a few days.

The icewings are given the most criticism in-universe because they’ve got a monarchy and class devision! Winter sees how the icewings in the upper circles only treat their children as extensions of themselves in order to further their own goals and how those in the lower circles are forced to live without luxuries he gets just because of where they were born. The solution to this is to make the new queen have magic empathy visions and just destroy the class devision wall and racism crown. Sure, some older dragons give mean looks, but everyone else claps!

Mudwings. Uh. I really wish I could say something here but Tui hasn’t given us much to go off of. Moorhen is just being bullied by Burn into joining her side?

I’m not really going into the arc 3 queens because I honestly forgot what happened with a lot of them, but Wasp’s defeat is salt in the wound. You have a whole oppressed group of people with fire powers and two of our main characters who directly oppose Wasp are part of that group, and the way she gets taken down is… venom-blasted by a rainwing who has no significant connections to her and then locked up in a throwaway line.

I don’t know. Maybe I’m looking too deep into a kids book about dragons, but I feel like there’s something better that could have been done.

#wof #wings of fire #wof analysis

[beblessed]

He Loves You Still (Part 1)

Based on Hosea Chapter 1 -2 (Mostly 2)

The book of Hosea opens up with God speaking to Israel through his servant Hosea. He commands Hosea to go and marry Gomer, a prostitute. Wild, yea I know, but it gets better. Go then tells Hosea that some of her children will be conceived in prostitution. This was to illustrate how Israel was acting like a prostitute and worshipping other gods, mainly baal (not capitalized on purpose).

Hosea marries Gomer and they have three children. Gomer is still promiscuous during this time. All the names of their children were given to Hosea directly from God. This speaks to the true love and heart of God that when he names something, he gives it identity and purpose. That purpose may take time to manifest but it will come to pass. God says to call the first son “Jezreel,” because God was going to punish the house of Jehu for the massacre at Jezreel and “put an end to the kingdom of Israel.” Let me just say that, this name appears to have nothing to do with the baby. Hosea and Gomer conceive again and give birth to a daughter and the Lord told Hosea to “Call her Lo-Ruhamah (which means “not loved”).” God said that he would no longer show love to the people of Israel or forgive them. I need to know Hosea’s reactions to these names and their meanings. However, I’m assuming he had no problems or issues with the names otherwise it would’ve been recorded. Hosea and Gomer have a second son who the Lord said to call “Lo-Ammi (not my people), for Israel is not my people and I am not their God.” 🙃😮 At the end of chapter one God tells Hosea that Judah and Israel will reunite and He will restore Himself to His people. This was an interesting time for God to make a promise.

Chapter 2 is where it goes down. Seriously, stop right now and go read Hosea 2:1-8, this will help as you keep reading this post. COME BACK after you finish! God starts likening the people of Israel to an unfaithful wife. Hosea can understand and relate to these words from God because he is literally a living example. God begins to admonish the people of Israel for turning their back on Him and turning to other gods. Here we see the true love and faithfulness of God, even when His people don’t reciprocate that love. He continued to bless them. Israel was consumed by the “good” they thought they were getting while in their sin. They couldn’t even see that the pleasure from their sin was void and empty. This is how sin keeps us in a never ending cycle. We get full of our sin for a moment and then we’re left feeling empty and we run right back to that sin. The cycle continues until God in His faithful and unfailing love steps in.

As I’m reading, I’m asking myself “where is the love in this?” Then I get to verse 6, where God says He will block their path with with a wall of thorn bushes. Isn’t it amazing how God can love us so much when we aren’t even thinking about Him. He loves us so much that he would put thorn bushes on the side of our path to keep us on the right path and deter us from getting on the wrong one. When we steer off the path towards God and encounter those thorn bushes they hurt and the enemy will try distract us and get us to blame God for trying to hurt us. When actually, it’s God’s love trying to get our attention and let us know we are going the wrong way. Not following God comes with scars, the good thing about scars is that they do heal. Praise God for the thorn bushes in our lives!

God continues on in his infinite wisdom and love about not allowing her (Israel) to catch the lovers (other gods) she runs after or searches for. Israel will then realize that “I might as well return to my first husband (God), for I was better off with Him than I am now.” God will eventually expose the emptiness and weakness of the things we put before Him. This was symbolic of Israel returning to God after understanding the blessing they thought was coming from baal, was actually from God all along. The whole time Israel was praising baal and giving sacrifices and gifts to it. God is so unselfish, kind and loving that He STILL provided for His people though they wanted nothing to do with Him. How many times do we take what God has blessed us with and give it to the god or thing we put before Him? How often do we disrespect our Heavenly Father by giving someone or something else the praise and glory for the provision He made? God’s love for us is truly unconditional. God used Hosea’s relationship with Gomer to mirror His love toward us.

When we misuse the gifts from God, He will sometimes take them away. Not to punish us for the sin we are in but He wants us to expose that sin or situation that we are putting before Him for what it really is, fake and deprived. He puts us in a “wilderness” so we can see that the source of the problem is where we are putting our focus and energy and that it was Him sustaining us all along, when we didn’t deserve it. I don’t know about you but this is where I start getting angry and upset with God. “Why did you leave me?” “God it’s your fault I’m in this mess because you left me here?” The problem isn’t that God left, the problem is that I made decisions and put other things before Him and He let me see how much I can actually trust them.

————

Think about the things in our daily lives we put before God? What might happen if God were to expose those things by removing His favor or blessings?

Ask God to help you identify those things we have in His place. Be ready for some changes in your life when you pray this prayer. It’s going to get real uncomfortable.

Stay Tuned for part 2…

Be Blessed

#Hosea #God #Trust #Blessings #Unconditional Love #Bible

[jemmo]

so i’ve been doing some thinking on the thua situation, and have reached a point where i feel like i can explain his actions but am still angered by the inconsistency of it. whenever i rewatch the scenes, I keep thinking why didn’t he just go to akk and ayan, or even just their small group to discuss this?? i get that he wanted to kick up a fuss but it also doesn’t sit well with me that you have to hurt and shame people in the process of igniting change, even if you feel you deserve it, which I don’t think akk does. I’d feel better about him doing so if he didn’t know that chadok was really behind it, but when he explains himself he says that he realised that and moved target to chadok. yes, he doesn’t know the full extent of how akk is suffering bc of what chadok is, but as someone he is friends with, i just feel like the better thing to do would’ve been to deal with him privately and deal with chadok in public, explain that he’s wrong bc of the things he made akk do. but then you get to the fact that chadok was suffering too, which gets to an important point i think the show is trying to make. what is the human cost of change like this, what is at the core of it?? at the end of the day, so much of this harm stems from individual people that are themselves hurting, so how do we deal with that?? do we expose them and punish them?? or do we take them to one side and sort things out privately?? how do we weigh up the hurt they’ve done to other people vs the hurt they’re feeling themselves?? it’s a really hard question, and here you see the two different ends of the spectrum. aye finding out what akk did and treating him with gentleness and kindness nonetheless, making him feel like he can change in a comforting way that is both kind to him but also makes things better for everyone in the long run. and then thua, who doesn’t care about akk in the way aye does, and who makes a valid point that he should have to be held responsible for what he’s done, no matter how bad he feels about it. I think for this reason, im glad thua did what he did, to make this point. but in that, thua isn’t right, nor is aye, it just gives us reason to think about these things which is good.

and as for why thua did this, alongside what is stated, that he wants truth and wants this over, I think what he says when he explains himself both gives that explanation but also makes his actions contradictory. bc he keeps saying he wants the truth, for it to be out in the open so the lies and the curse can be over. which makes me think, who does that help that’s connected directly to thua?? who is so hung up on the curse that it makes him paranoid and angsty, makes him suppress himself and feel bad?? it’s kan. kan has always been fixated on the curse, and thua has seen how that’s affected him, literally seen how that’s changed him since he was younger. so yes, I think maybe that contributed to making thua do this, the fact he wants everyone to stop being so obsessed and hurt by this, no one more than kan. but at the same time, if i was kan listening fo what he says, things like “so that everyone would tell the truth” and “do you think it could be fixed by letting it go away quietly”, I’d find it hard not to relate that to the way kan has acted, keeping his feelings quiet, keeping up his bruce wayne lie, which is where the inconsistency comes in. he has the time and patience for kan to come to terms with his feelings and figure out what to do slowly and quietly, but for this he’s sick of lies, needs truth now, needs it out in the open and sorted?? yes these are two different things and yes thua would of course give kan a lot more time and space bc he cares much more, but then you get to the point that again this is an issue centred around humans, who thua is not giving the time and space he granted to kan. it hurts akk and aye and in a way hurts kan when thua says he needed answers and truth, something kan couldn’t give him for so long. at the end of the day, it’s hard to reconcile what thua did bc we feel and care for akk so much, bc he’s our character, we’ve seen his journey and struggles. if it was told from thua’s perspective, and akk was just part of this bad system doing bad things, you wouldn’t feel as upset or angry about his public exposure. but then again, i didn’t feel upset or angry about chadok’s public exposure, bc he wasn’t our character, he was our villain. but then you get underneath that all and find out what happened and realise he too was a man caught up in doing bad things for what he thought was right, to look after someone he loved. and the theme of akk being the new chadok is made even clearer, it’s just that akk has the people around him and the momentum of a different and progressed society to break him out of the cycle. it just begs the questions where is the line drawn when it comes to granting sympathy to those that have done wrong vs granting punishment, and what is the cost of making a change. everyone has their own ideas about how to bring about progress and what has to be done to achieve it, and for a show that is so reflective of our society and trying to be an allegory of systems that are in place for us, I think I’m ok with the fact that what I’m getting out of it is a nuanced discussion of how to dismantle these systems while not forgetting the humans involved in them, bc at the end of the day we are all just flawed humans, hurting, and making mistakes, and we all need to figure out how to reconcile with those actions before we think about moving forward

#this was messy but I just rlly needed to figure out my thoughts #and hey I’m alright with this #im alright with thua doing something a little bit wrong and inconsistent in order to make me think about this stuff #the aftermath is another matter im not so ok with bc I would’ve liked to see more discussion of how this affected everyone instead of #immediately moving on #but I like this #I like people being influenced and changed by their environment into wanting to do something #and I like that it isn’t the right thing it’s the thing that he feels is needed #which he isn’t right abiut it wasn’t needed #but neither is aye’s complete forgiveness of akks actions #hurting people still have to answer for what they’ve done #it’s just finding that middle ground of how to treat them is hard #but such an interesting point to bring up and I rlly like that #man I’m just here for all this political societal allegory and commentary I got from this #idk if this is what anyone else is vibing with but yeah I just love when we’re forced to remember that the root of these things is people #hurting and it makes it harder to deal with but is something we have to figure out to make progress #golf I see you and your genius and I adore it #and thua yes you I love you and the incorrect things you do #the eclipse

[storiesofsvu]

Under Over Ch 25

Joe Velasco x reader Warnings: language, some hurt/comfort maybe? Just a lot of fluff and minor case work talked about, minor medical shit. I'm not sure how many more chapters there's gonna be, the ending on this one was a little rough so, apologies there. It's also not as long as I would like but I literally didn't know what else to do. I think there's gonna be one work related chapter and then one nice fluffy, tie it all up with a bow chapter. And then we say see ya real soon to these two cause there's already a sequel in the works 👀 though I am gonna be focusing on bingo stuff for the next little bit.

Arriving at Mercy was hectic, which was no surprise, there were always countless amounts of idiotic injuries on super bowl Sunday. Joe sprinted through the ambulance bay, searching for the bus you’d been brought it but it appeared it was already gone on another run. His heart hammered in his chest as he jogged through the emergency room, skidding to a stop in front of the check in desk, flashing his badge to try and get information quicker. Before the poor nurse could even unscramble what he said there was an intrusion from his left,

“Velasco?” Baker’s voice broke into his panic and his head shot up to her, “shouldn’t you be at the precinct?”

“Where is she? What the fuck happened? She said she wasn’t hit!”

“Hey…” she stepped towards him, hands wrapping around his forearms to pull him back to reality, “take a breath, she’s fine.”

“The other EMT’s said you left with lights and sirens?!”

“A bullet nicked her, barely a cut but it was deep enough she needed stitches. I took her down and was gonna send her to the precinct right after but it turns out she was allergic to the local anesthesia they used. Her throat started to close.”—

“Oh god.” He ran a hand over his face, his stomach sinking and Baker grabbed his arm again.

“She’s fine.” She assured him, “never once unconscious, they gave her epi on the way here and a steroid to keep it dormant until the anesthesia’s out of her system. They’re keeping her probably overnight just under observation and to run a couple of allergist tests so this doesn’t happen again.” Joe let out a shaky sigh of relief, the adrenaline and emotion still coursing through his body he didn’t really think it over, it just happened and he pulled Phoebe into a tight hug that surprised her.

“Thank you.” She squeezed at him gently before he took a step back, cheeks turning pink slightly embarrassed at his actions. Phoebe simply laughed softly, shaking her head at just how enamoured the two of you were with each other, “can I see her?”

“Yeah, c’mon.” She nodded in the direction of your room, “I think she’s sleeping, but they want me back at the precinct, I’ll leave her in your care.” She lead him down a couple of hallways to show Joe your room, saying a quick goodnight before she made her way out of the hospital.

Joe slipped into the room quietly, a small lamp on the bedside table illuminated the space with a warm glow. He couldn’t help but let out a little sigh of relief at the sight of you asleep in the bed, safe and peaceful. The last couple of weeks had been more than hectic, you’d been working basically twenty-four seven, whatever drugged up sleep you were in, you more than deserved. Perching on the edge of the bed his hand reached out, caressing at your cheek softly before he leant in and kissed your forehead, holding you to him for a moment. Despite knowing that you were safe and here in front of him, he still felt tears pooling in his eyes at the thought of things having gone far worse. His thumb stroked across your skin, simply needing to be in contact with you right now. You let out a little groan, shifting slightly in the bed and your eyes cracked open, blinking a few times to get rid of the sleep before your lips curled up into a grin.

“Hey pretty boy.”

“Thought you said you could take care of yourself.” He replied with a small smile and you huffed out a laugh.

“I had everything under control.” You grumbled, stretching out your body, “damn EMT’s were the ones who nearly killed me.”

“You’re okay now though, right?” The worry took over, his voice shaking lightly and your brow furrowed at the glassy appearance of his eyes.

“Yeah… hey.. Jose..” you sat up, wincing at the pain in your side as your hands found his, “I’m fine. What is this?” One of your hands came up to cup at his cheek, searching his eyes as you felt your own emotion begin to bubble in your chest. Instead of speaking he gently pulled you into a hug, one of his hands cupping the back of you head and tightly holding you to him.

“I’ve lost too many people, especially ones that I loved. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.” His voice was muffled by you hair but you could still hear the shakiness to it as he held you to him for a moment, letting the embrace sink fully into both of you before he spoke again. “You really need to stop getting into trouble.”

“Baker tells me that at least once a week. I know.” You muttered back and he let out a small chuckle, his hand rubbing at your back before he finally let you go. Your hand came up to cup his cheek, your own eyes glistening with happy tears as you did so, a smile on your lips as you spoke, “you really love me?”

“Are you kidding me?” He laughed, “you had me wrapped around your finger from that second party and you know it!”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” You shrugged, you hand dropping from his face and he picked it up in his, mindlessly playing with it, “everyone loves the diamond.”

“And I love the girl behind it.” He murmured, leaning in to leave the world’s softest kiss on your lips, “the one that’s still got that fire yet is incredibly soft and caring. The one with the incredible detective skills, wildly brilliant mind, and looks unbelievably hot while handling a gun.” You couldn’t help but laugh at that, your gaze returning to his, smile on your lips.

“You’re…. like no one I’ve ever met Jose, and I love you too, more than you could imagine.” Smiling, he leant in, kissing you again and you let out a happy little sigh into the kiss before you pulled away, “I only wish I’d said it sooner.”

“Me too.” He kissed your forehead gently, “I’m… not really great with this kinda stuff.”

“You may not be great with the words, but you speak a million words with your actions.” You smiled softly, cupping his cheek as you thumb softly rubbed across his skin, “I could tell I was incredibly important to you weeks ago, even before I showed up in your squad room. I don’t need to hear it every day, the way you show it is even better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” You smiled, “because I’ve never felt as loved as I do in this moment, and half of that is coming from the look in your eyes.” Blushing, he ducked his gaze with a small laugh before pulling you to him to steal a kiss. “I meant it when I said I wanted my future to be with you, I simply… don’t see one without you.”

“So did I.” He replied, smile gracing his cheeks.

“Then I guess we have an agreement.” You smiled, eyes sparkling with adoration towards him before you involuntarily let out a little yawn.

“We do.” He kissed your cheek softly, “but only if you get some rest. It’s been a long day, you need to sleep.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, sinking back into the bed.

“And I’m not going anywhere, okay?” He pulled a chair over to the bedside, his hand not leaving yours as he dropped into it, “I’ve got you.”

“I know.” You smiled, curling onto your side to fully face him as you readjusted the blankets, your hand tangling in his as you let out another little yawn before your eyes fluttered shut and you drifted off once again.

**

You were pleasantly surprised when you woke up the next morning that Baker had dropped off a mini care package from your apartment. A pair of leggings and an NYPD shirt, make up wipes, a few crucial make up items if you were deciding to just go home, tooth brush and paste and couple of hair ties. You got yourself refreshed and changed before finding Jose awake back in the room scrolling through his phone. You still had to wait a couple of hours to get test results back, and they were being kind enough to fill the epi pen prescription then and there. Your next surprise was when Olivia turned up at the door, gently knocking on the frame.

“Heard you had quite the night.” She greeted with a smile and you laughed.

“Would much have preferred work.”

“You okay?”

“Perfectly fine.” You assured, “just waiting for a signature so I can get out of here. How was the rest of the bust?”

“We got all the top guys, and a lot of the other ones flipped on someone higher or gave us intel to other rings or parties.”

“And Kayra?”

“Refuses to talk.”

“He lawyer up?” Joe asked and Olivia shook her head.

“He says he’ll only talk to one person.” Her gaze redirected to you and you let out a small laugh.

“Why am I not surprised?”

“You feel up to an interrogation today? She asked and you nodded.

“Yeah. We can head in as soon they discharge me.”

“And you get breakfast.” Jose added firmly and you nearly rolled your eyes, pulling a chuckle from Liv.

“Listen to Velasco, you’ve both got a long day ahead of you.”

“I know.” You replied with a small smile.

“Almost all of the girls have been asking about you, some of them saw you go outside with Kayra before the shots were fired and they didn’t see anything after that.”

“What’d’you tell them?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged, “I didn’t want to blow your cover so I didn’t say anything, but they’re worried.”

“I’ll talk to them.” You shifted, grabbing your water cup to take a sip, “you hear anything from McGrath?”

“He heard about the bust, I’m guessing he knows that he’s caught red handed. He’ll plead to sexual misconduct, and the murder as long as he gets protective custody.”

“The murder gives him life in prison, that’s all I care about.”

You were briefly interrupted by a nurse and Olivia made a quick goodbye, knowing she had a precinct to get back to and a lot of work to get done today. In just under an hour you were officially discharged and had a hospital provided breakfast in you, after pleading with Jose he finally gave in and let you have a second coffee. You smiled brightly, pecking his cheek, reminding him how much you loved him and he let out a little laugh, wrapping an arm around you to press a kiss to the side of your head as he guided you out to the car.

Finally, the world of the Manhattan Elite was behind you, you were free to be just you, at least for a little while now. Free to focus on your future together and what it held, what you wanted it to look like. A world where you were both NYPD detectives, no more living under layers and hiding your lives from the people around you. Now all you had to do was get Kayra talking and wrap this case, and that was something you would be able to do together.

__________________ @witches-unruly-heart @fandom-princess-forevermore @cycat4077 @xoxabs88xox @alwaysachorusgirl @teamsladsandgents @thatesqcrush @im-just-a-mississippi-girll @katieslotherford @almatra @momlifebehardhard @dondivajade @misscharlielulu

#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #law and order svu #under over #svu #law and order special victims unit

[cherrypeaking]

good morning~ how’s my beautiful woman doing? 🥺🩵 i hope you slept well~

i took a preemptive pain killer to drive my cramps away but somehow my body didn’t get the memo so my cramps started coming at full force 😭😭 it was so bad that i tried to get up and run away from the pain but you can’t run from the pain if it’s in your body 😭😭😭😭 so now i’m laying in bed trying to recover djshhss

i’m looking back at our conversation from earlier and it’s so wonderful that we’re so comfortable around each other 🥺🥺🩵🩵 it had me yearning to be by your side already 🥺🩵

aaah i can’t stop thinking about you baby i want to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles >//< i wanna do a bunch of romantic stuff with you 🥺🩵🩵 it’s so funny that we both related to anti romantic so much at one point and now look at us 😭😭 we went from anti romantic to hydrangea love hehe 🤭🩵🩵🩵 it’s funny but it’s also so beautiful and it makes me so glad that we took our time with each other 🥺 i would’ve waited however long for you~ i knew i only wanted you before you even asked what we were djshhs 😳😳👉🏾👈🏾🩵 you’re a lot braver than you let on honestly!! i know you get shy and nervous a lot but you’re so brave to me baby 🥺🥺 so brave and strong and powerful~ i admire you so much 🥺 my baby’s simply the coolest~ 🥺🩵🩵

(taehyun as THEE baby star 🥺🥺⭐️⭐️ i couldn’t choose one pic of tyun or one jirachi pic so here’s a rare 4 pic collage :3)

in other news, i think twitter is back up now so i can go back to tagging you in cute stuff :3 but that app is on its last strike with me idk how much longer i can take the muskrat screwing it over and changing things that never needed to be changed :/ but ultimately it’s okay if i leave twitter bc i have you and a perfectly loving community here on tumblr dot corn 🥺🥺🩵🩵 and as much as this site has its own problems the love and community i’ve found here is worth more than anything any dim witted ceo could mess up 🥹🥹🫶🏾🫶🏾🩵🩵

i love you so much my love~ as always, i hope you have a great day!! i’m here rooting for you my love, my little fairy princess 🥺🩵

P.S look at our themes side by side we’re literally so cute 😭😭😭🩵🩵🩵

my love 🥺🥺🩷 getting to read your ask really made me feel better… and talking to you ultimately… like i told you i woke up from a nightmare but i feel way better thanks to you 🥺🥺🩷 i just had my caramel coffee~ it’s funny that even though you don’t really like coffee, my caramel coffee always makes me think of you 🤭🩷

hmhm :(( i feel like it happens to me too like some period cramps are so painful all you can do is sleep it off?? i’m so sorry like why do we have to go through this :(( im so glad you’re feeling better… mommy deserves kisses and tummy rubs 🥺🥺

i loved our conversation as well >\\\< it was so cute and just like you i love that we get to communicate and feel comfortable to share everything 🥺🥺🩷

mommy 🥺🥺 i would love that so much… i do get lots of romantic thoughts about you my sweetie pie 🥺🥺🩷 please i do find it so funny cause antiromantic was basically my jam i was thinking no bye i’m not going for relationships anymore 😑 and then i met you 🥺🥺🩷 it’s so cute that you think that i’m brave >\\\< i was actually very excited and nervous and anxious and trying to know exactly when i’d be ready 🥺🥺 i want to live what we have to the fullest and that’s when i decided to ask you out 👉👈🩷 to me you’re really the coolest and strongest, my girlfriend is the best 🥺🥺🩷 i remember you were saying the same, no more relationships or maybe just one but then i’m done and i was thinking omg so true queen and then- FHSBFBDB 👉👈🩷🥺 i love you my crystal gem 🥺🩷🩵💎

MOMMYYYYY MY TWO BIGGEST COMFORTS (outside of you~) 🥺🥺🥺 they look so so cute my love 🥺😭🩷🩷 thank you so much 🥺🩷

tbh same :( i feel like i’m gonna be there for much longer unless that rate limit thing is indeed temporary… what sucks is especially for txt content and translations it was really good to have access to twt… i’m happy twitter hasn’t really been on my mind ever since i came here and met you my love 🥺🩷 our cute little community is very much loving and caring and i love being here, way more than there~ so if i had to leave i know i would stay here despite the lags hehe :3 🩷🩷

i love you so much as well mommy 🥺🥺🩷 you’re my queen~ my garden fairy 🥺🥺🩷 im always rooting for you too my love, thank you so much 🥺🥺🩷

PLEASE OMG LOOKING AT THEM SIDE BY SIDE THEY ARE SO CUTE OUR BLOGS ARE SO CUTE 🥹🥹🩷 this tyunning concept is really top tier and we sport it so well as tyuntwinz 🤭🩷

#crystal gem 💎 #my love :((( #thank you so much for being here for me i woke up feeling so scared and you were so patient with me 🥺 #i love you so much my fairy of crystals 🥺🥺😭🩷 #im so so happy i’m with you 🥺🥺 always thankful that i met you at a time i really needed to at least make some friends 🥺 #i made a friend who became my girlfriend 👉👈🩷🥺😳 #im so happy with you 🥺🥺 i hope you are too with me 🥺

[itchyeye]

I tried to live a normal life. I really did. I took jobs working in the backroom of offices where I wouldn’t need to meet anyone. I had boyfriends who promised they didn’t care. I burned through half a dozen counselors. None of it worked.

You see, my father’s always remained one of the darlings of the true crime community. Articles, documentaries, grisly retrospectives: wherever I ended up, somehow it would always worm its way into my life. One of my co-workers or new friends would stumble across a profile of my father, and that would be that. Every time I ended up in a relationship, it was only a matter of time before I caught them on some true crime blog, or spotted a profile of my father in their search history.

Sometimes, I tried to lie about it, so there was no relation, but the damage was done. They’d get distant, throw me nervous glances when they didn’t think I’d notice. Or worse, they started to look at me like I was some sort of prize, some small claim to fame: the serial killer’s daughter.

I suppose I could have changed my name. Um, something always stopped me though: it was the only connection I still had to my dad, and even if it did keep ruining my life, I couldn’t bring myself to lose it.

The counselors and the therapists were more understanding… but even they couldn’t quite keep the eager quiver out of their voice when I started talking about the murders. It felt like every couple of years, I was having to start my life over from scratch.

What is it, do you think, that makes people so obsessed with horrific things happening to other people? Even now, after all I’ve done, I can’t quite figure out what it is that makes people treat actual atrocities like cheap entertainment.

Maybe we’re all just broken inside, unable to really grasp the difference between fictional people, and people we just don’t know. They’re all just abstract ideas we’re happy to have suffer for our enjoyment.

Or… maybe the fact it really happened is exactly the point, adding the awful spice of reality to people’s morbid fantasies.

When I think of the lurid joy some people would feel if I were caught – the serial killer’s daughter taking over the family business – it makes me sick. But even back then, with my hands unbloodied, that collective obsession with brutality chased me throughout my life.

MAG 109 Nightfall; Statement of Julia Montauk, regarding her initial encounters with the hunter Trevor Herbert. Statement taken direct from subject, June 29th 2017.

Okay, I know how it sounds, but Murder Club wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was just true crime stuff. My boyfriend, well, ex-boyfriend, used to call it my “serial killer fan club”, which I’ll admit doesn’t make it sound a lot better, but you’ve gotta believe there was no way any of us would have chosen to get involved in anything like what’s happening.

Except, I guess, that we did. Somehow.

I’m not a violent person, not at all. My sisters used to play-fight when we were kids, and I’d always just… I’d end up crying in the corner. But for some reason, true crime never had that effect on me. Or maybe it did, but I kind of liked it when I could control it. I remember when I first got the taste. I stumbled across a book on famous murders that had somehow ended up in our school library. I read about Lizzie Borden, feeling the breath catch in my throat, and I put the book away quickly before literally running out of the library. I didn’t sleep at all that night, but I still went back to that book the next day.

It’s always scared me. That’s the thing. I could never get into horror; ghosts and monsters always left me bored. Even thrillers never really got me in the same way. But there was just a part of me that always knew it wasn’t real, it never happened. But true crime? The awful stuff that humans do to one another? That got me. I used to think it was about facing the darkness, and coming to terms with my fear, or somehow honouring the victims, but it’s not. It’s just that there’s a part of me that gets an awful little buzz from it. From that shudder that goes through my body when I’m getting all the gory details of how someone died at the hands of a real-life human monster. Books, podcasts, documentaries, I… I went through all of them all, and still wanted more.

MAG 112 Thrill of the Chase; Statement of Lisa Carmel, regarding her involvement in a series of murders. Statement number 0111311, 13th November 2011.

#tma #the magnus archives #true crime #[🪳]mine #[📑] transcripts #mag 109 #mag 112 #julia montauk #i've always really liked both of these passages... two of my fav episodes #[smirke's 14] 🐺

[palettesofrenaissance]

I had thoughts about a gorgeous painting and I unintentionally ranted about women and the shit we get put through

I was looking at a piece of artwork with a figure whose back is facing the viewer, and I thought how we, worldwide, could automatically and immediately recognize it as a woman because of her dress

And then what came to mind was how women have been the subject of paintings and other artwork for decades and decades and centuries and centuries. We are so admired and loved at being muses and subjects of art... And yet we have been erased from history since who-knows-how-long

There's a quote from someone I unfortunately can't remember that went like, "Throughout history, [the author named] "Anonymous" was a woman." And that quote still shakes me. Women, collectively, have experienced the longest running form of oppression: Misogyny. And yet we still struggle with having class consciousness and solidary. One of the earliest laws was against women speaking, with a brutesque, barbaric contraption to harm the wearer if she tries to speak. There have been countless moments when men across races have been able to band together to go against women. I've witnessed a few

And now as I'm typing this, in the grand concept of time, women have not had bodily autonomy for very long. In the USA, it hasn't been long since a single woman could open up a bank account on her own, or own a credit card on her own, or own land property on her own; we couldn't even get divorced not that long ago in the concept of time. We are credited as being the "pure ones" and even the "great diviners" for literally being able to create human beings, but where is the respect that comes along with it? In relation to that aforementioned quote, I remember doing a short report in high school on an author, Joanne K. Rowling, and learning that only when she chose a writing pin name that was unisex but "sounded male" did she stop receiving so many rejection letters. People don't care for what you have to say if you're a woman

It's harder for women to succeed at anything when it's discouraged to even read anything with a feminine name attached to it. That's happened to many journalists too. I still remember that interview between a misogynistic Middle Eastern man and USA female reporter; she was very respectful of the culture and dressed appropriately, but because she is a woman, he refused on camera to even talk to her. People don't care how hard women work, or even any of their work just because they're women

It's about Beyonce only relatively recently being recognized as the greatest performer ever. It's Maya Angelou getting her recognition only after many years. It's being "forgotten" that Marilyn Monroe created her own production company, among other things, which was unheard of in her time period. It's in Amelia Earhart crash landing and radioing for help, but not receiving any, on purpose. It's in that Twitter thread of fucking comic book writers being mansplained to about characters those women wrote. It's in, the most recently I've seen, in a woman in robotics retelling on TikTok her childhood memories of high school boys sabotaging her robots (pouring a cup full of water on hers) and a fucking news anchor thinking she designed the robot rather than built it

Women have so many biological advantages and greatness, but we're reduced to fashion statements, our bodies types going in and out of style; we're reduced to "a feeling," that if you aren't feminine, then you aren't really a woman, that falseness which excludes the many masculine women throughout history and other women who broke the molds that the ideal of femininity =/= women, and other sexist bullshit

Our pain is entertainment; aka the tv show Law and Order SUV that has countless episodes of femicide and rape. Dehumanizing us is enjoyable; there's fucking porn categories like "rape" and "hate fuck" and brutish, disgusting categories I don't want to think about. We're needed in and only to desired in the home (old vintage ads for example, glorifying this) and for a period of time, we couldn't even represent ourselves on stage (ex: Kabuki theatre). Our harm is no big deal (the thousands of Indigenous and Native American women and girls kidnapped every year). No more murdering daughters for arranged marriages, being given to pieces of shit men, or murdered over a piece of head covering. They want to care about us, but only to the extent of: child birthers, pleasure givers, babysitters, or maids. We have our own category of curse words/slurs directed towards us (and men don't). On average we live longer, can maintain longer stamina, are more flexible, less susceptible to most diseases and illnesses, but we're a goddamn joke in our own species

It's been credited that women created calendars, language, home rearing, some medicine, and several tools and crafts. But we we're so focused on unimportant things

I want a world that's better and which does not reduce girlhood/womanhood to a list of stereotypes. I'd love a world where college girls don't have to protest after being raped or assaulted; a world where laws prohibiting rape, pedophilia, assault, and femicide become mandatory. No more period huts or being deemed unclean for a natural bodily function you can't even fucking control. No pink tax. That cures and solutions are found for treatments that mostly effect women, instead of continuing being "a mystery." The toxic ideas of "welfare queen" and "baby mamas" will die. Getting cat called is recognized and punished as the harassment it is. No more cotton ceilings. Women won't be purposely promoted to heads of companies the previous heads know will fail, solely to make the women look bad. We were close with the last feminist march and the pussy hats, but then that was cleverly villainized and disbanded. I want a world that better for women and girls, but I recognize that it won't be near to a reality for the next 3 to 4 generations, minimum

"Behind every great man is an even greater woman holding shit together."

"Behind every successful man is an even better woman who way he's standing in."

Women are great and amazing, and the only truly negative part about our existence is this crummy world that feeds us lies that we aren't shit. There has got to be female class solidary if there ever plans to be a better future (but also, the men know this, and is why they devise ways to sidetrack us)

#feminism #feminist #female class consciousness #female class solidarity #women's rights #female rights

[percervall]

wildest dreams (bonus scene)

Player: Thiago Alcantara Words: 1944 Warnings: talk of sexual fantasies, fingering, smut, dirty talk, cursing, slight dom/sub A/N: after having written this oneshot about Kostas and Thiago, I kept thinking about how that conversation between Thiago and his wife would have gone, which turned into this

This is the first time I've written something like this so please let me know what you think! 🧡

---

While his teammates were sitting down for lunch, Thiago managed to sneak away to an empty board room. Kostas had been dropping hints for three days now but he wanted to phone his wife before agreeing to anything.

“Everything alright?” Liesa said once she answered his FaceTime call. She pushed her glasses up on top of her head and leant back in her chair. Thiago smiled and nodded. 

“Yeah, don’t worry. The rehab is still going according to plan. I just wanted to run something by you before I agreed to it. Kos came to see me with a-... a proposition,” he said, dragging a hand across his stubble.

“What, like a business proposal? I’m no accountant, but if you can get me the business plan, I can run the numbers for you,” Liesa replied. 

“Ah, well.. It’s not a business proposal. It’s-.. Uhm…” Just the idea alone had him flustered, but he was also intrigued. He’d be lying if he said the picture Kostas had painted for him hadn’t affected him. Thiago was kind of proud of his best friend for being brave enough to put himself out there like that and ask. He wasn’t entirely sure he would’ve been as brave had the roles been reversed. 

“Babe, you’re blushing! How did Kos reduce my smooth talking, flirty husband to a blushing and stumbling man?” 

Thiago closed his eyes. Better to just rip off the plaster, he thought to himself. 

“By asking me to join Olivia. And him. Per her request. That’s how,” he mumbled. It was not something they had ever discussed before. Then again, until recently they had also never really discussed phone sex and look at how that had turned out for them.

 Liesa let out a laugh that pulled him back from his memories.

“Let me guess, Liv finally came to the darkside of shirtless selfies?” 

“Apparently literally. He told me he caught her red-handed  and got her to confess that she wanted for me to join them,” Thiago added.

“Damn, I don’t blame her,” she said. Her cheeks were now as flushed as his probably were as she processed the information. “Okay. So, what is it you’re asking me?” 

“Before I say yes to Kostas, I wanted to talk about it with you first. I’m not gonna make decisions about things related to our marriage without asking you.”

“Aha, so you’re asking me for permission?” Liesa asked, an eyebrow raised. Thiago shrugged. “I guess..” 

Liesa chuckled.

“I have no problem with it. Hell, I’m proud of her for asking. That photo was hot. And if I’m right, I can assure you a lot of women have that fantasy even if it only stays a fantasy. Just promise me three things,” she said, moving the phone to her other hand, “one: check expectations, two: make sure she knows she’s in charge and can stop any moment. We have that in our relationship, but I need you to talk her through that whether she and Kos have the same dynamic or not.”

“Agreed. What’s number three?” 

“Practice safe sex. I have no issue lending you to them, but your children are mine,” Liesa continued. Thiago laughed and nodded.

“I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get home tonight,” she said, a blush spreading down her chest. Thiago had a feeling it would be more a show and tell, but he agreed: he couldn’t wait either. 

+

When he got home that evening, he found Liesa in the kitchen. The dishwasher was already running and she was finishing up the dishes that couldn’t go in the dishwasher by hand. The room was filled with soft Portuguese indie music. 

“Hey schatz, the children already ate, but I saved you some,” she said as she slung the teatowel over her shoulder. Thiago came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressed his lips to the hollow between neck and shoulder. Liesa smiled and dried off the last pot before turning around.

“Want me to heat up your dinner?”

“Dinner can wait, I want to kiss my wife,” Thiago murmured in the space between their lips before diving down to kiss her. 

Liesa’s eyes fluttered closed as a soft moan escaped her. She arched into him as Thiago deepened the kiss. 

“I take it you had fun then?” she asked a little breathlessly when they broke the kiss to get some air. She saw how his normally amber brown eyes darkened in colour, pupils dilating.

“Never knew watching someone go down on their partner was so hot. Kos worshipped her on his knees, just like this,” he said, lowering himself to the ground. His hands disappeared under her skirt and pulled her underwear down, helping her step out of them. Liesa gripped the edge of the counter behind her as she leant back against it. Thiago gave her a devilish smirk, eyes twinkling, and pushed her skirt up high enough to grant him access. Liesa threw her head back as his tongue made contact with her now exposed sex. He closed his lips over her clit and sucked slightly before pulling back. Thiago lifted her left leg and placed her foot on his shoulder, pushing her thighs open.

“Taste so good amor…” he said, voice barely above a whisper, before he ran his tongue over her folds, flicking it over her clit. Liesa moaned and ground her hips into his face, trying desperately to keep a hold of the counter. 

“Gotta be quiet for me nena, wouldn’t want the children or the neighbours to hear you,” Thiago said, giving her thigh a squeeze. The thought of getting caught sent a jolt of desire down her body to her already throbbing cunt. 

“Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you, nena? Getting bend over and fucked hard and fast, not caring if anyone will hear,” Thiago murmured, picking up on the way her body responded to the image, sliding two fingers into her. All she could do was gasp and moan as he curled his fingers and brushed against that spot inside her. Her fingers were turning white with how hard she was grabbing onto the edge on the kitchen counter, legs trembling as she could feel her orgasm building. He wasn’t wrong; she would love nothing more than for him to strip her naked and fuck her against any solid surface in the livingroom.

“Thiago…” she gasped, grinding against his fingers. She was desperate for release. Thiago’s phone call had left her hot and bothered. 

“That’s it, amor. Let go. Come on my fingers,” he said, biting down on her thigh just hard enough she was sure would leave a mark. Him giving her permission was all it took for her orgasm to crash over her. Thiago removed his fingers and pressed a kiss to the spot he had bitten before getting up from the floor. He kissed her, wrapping his arms around her. Liesa moaned into his mouth as she tasted herself on his tongue. 

“You’re not wrong… I-.. I have fantasised about you bending me over our kitchen table and just taking me. Hard,” Liesa confessed, her voice barely audible. Thiago let out a curse in Portuguese at the image she described. He pulled her along to the dining room, taking off his shirt. Liesa chuckled, watching it land on the back of the couch.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, holding her in his arms again. Liesa nodded and kissed him, feeling his erection pressed against her stomach.

“Need you to fuck me Thiago,” she murmured, pulling her t-shirt over her head before taking off her skirt. Thiago groaned and kissed her again, a hand resting on her now bare ass, giving her a squeeze. She snaked a hand down to the front of his jeans and undid the button and fly. Thiago quickly shoved his jeans and underwear down his hips, his erection slapping against his stomach. Liesa took him in her hand, stroking him. Thiago let out a strained fuck and reached behind her to undo her bra.

“Lie down on your stomach,” he said, an edge to his voice.

Liesa didn’t need to be told twice. She gasped as her skin made contact with the cold table top. She felt Thiago move to stand behind her and arched into his touch as he ran a hand down from her shoulder to her hip. Squeezing her thighs shut, she felt how her arousal had dripped down them.

“Are you gonna be a good girl then? Gonna take this cock, are you?” Thiago all but whispered. 

“Yes, yes… Please… Thiago… Please…” She heard him chuckle as he ran the head of his cock along her folds. Liesa couldn’t help but push back against him. Thiago tsked at her, digging his fingers into her hip to stop her.

“Look at you, already begging for it. Spread ‘em,” he ordered her, tapping against her ankle with his foot. He slowly pushed into her, eliciting a moan from them both. Thiago set a bruising pace, pelvis slamming against her with each thrust. Liesa tried to find something to hold onto as he fucked into her and managed to curl her fingers around the sides of the table. The legs of the table screeched over the hardwood floors with the intensity of his thrusts, and Liesa would’ve worried about scratches if her brain had been able to function. 

“S-So good… Fuck..” 

“You take my cock so well nena, so good for me…”

Every single word of praise and every single filthy thing that left his mouth unfurled ribbons of need through her body. 

Thiago grit his teeth, digging his fingers into the flesh between ass and thigh. She was a panting mess underneath him, the only sounds leaving her strangled moans and whispered yesses. He could tell she was getting close to her orgasm as her legs began to tremble.

“You gonna come on my cock, nena?” he asked, getting nothing in reply but her moaning his name. He could feel her pussy start to clench around him.

“That’s it. Fuck.. Such a good girl for me, letting me use your pretty cunt. Come for me, nena.. Come on my cock.. Wanna feel you..” 

He felt her tighten even more around him, squeezing him, a chorus of whispered yes, yes, yes the only thing leaving her mouth as she climaxed. Thiago groaned at the feeling and slammed into her once more, stilling as his orgasm crashed through him. 

Liesa whimpered when he pulled out of her, body still trembling with the aftershocks of her orgasm. Thiago helped her up from the table, lifting her in his arms when her legs gave out, and carried her upstairs and into their bedroom. She was aware that he laid her down on their bed and disappeared into the ensuite to get a flannel. Liesa let him clean her up, not being able to move even if she’d wanted to. Her heart was still hammering against her chest and her vision was unfocussed. Thiago threw the flannel into the bathroom through the open door and laid down next to her, pulling her closer.

“Thank you,” she mumbled in the crook of his neck, feeling sleep pull at her.

“Hope it wasn’t too much?” 

“No.. Was perfect..” 

Thiago smiled softly at her. She tried to fight the exhaustion that had taken hold of her.

“Our clothes are still all over the living room..” 

“I’ll get them in a moment. Sleep now amor. I love you,” Thiago whispered into her hair. Liesa sighed contently and drifted off to him rubbing soothing circles over her shoulder. 

---

Masterlist

#football fanfic #football drabble #football oneshot #thiago alcantara fanfic #thiago alcantara drabble #LFC fanfic #Liverpool FC fanfic #Liverpool FC oneshot #I'll go hide in a corner now

[salt-volk]

Tldr; custom criticism and more

So now you can’t even trade with customs if you’re not the original owner? So if I don’t like it anymore, I have to keep it or trade with a non CO? Honestly guys, just be clear if y’all want your own little club, because that’s exactly what it is. You’re only trading with other COs bc those other users would be pissed it they couldn’t get another custom for the price of a mirror, rather than having to struggle like the rest of us to somehow get access to customs.

At this point I wish there was an option to just toggle custom items and pets so that they don’t show. Blocking someone gives me a banner that makes me unable to see those people, and I’d take that banner over having to come face to face with customs every day. I don’t want to see them on the front page, I don’t want to see how many days until a custom maker can be spun again, I don’t want to see anything related to it anymore. I’m sick and tired of customs, and I can’t even curate my own DV experience bc quis can’t get her head out of her ass to actually make a functioning game that has a goal that reaches farther than getting their hands on a custom maker. What absolute bullshit. We’re supposed to wait until DV gets better and there’s more content etc but hello??? If the base game play is so focused on customs, it means that there is no understanding on staff’s part of how to actually run a game - it’s not going to get better if you rely on staff??? The most interesting things have been user run content, and every single feature that staff tried to tout as great has been a failure: guilds, customs, the lack of housing, etc.

I’m tired of waiting and hoping that things get better - and I WANT things to get better! It’s just absolutely miserable to see that literally 99% of feedback is ignored. Why the fuck are turnips not tradeable??? Besides the obvious “we want you to directly purchase turnips from us” which is so short sighted and completely ignores how people actually end up playing these kinds of sites. I don’t have the time to play dailies and grind for taters, but I 100% would have bought turnips if I could pay people with them??? Hell, subeta even had a subscription model for their premium currency now??

Note: please don’t fucking tell me to stop playing if I’m so unhappy 🤡 I know I’m an absolute clown for sticking around, but y’all, just bc your experience has been more positive, doesn’t mean that mine is less valid.

.

#anonymous #customs #mod yoshi

[ezzydean]

“You invited how many people over for Christmas dinner??” - Stilinski family feels

some more shenanigans related to this prompt and this prompt and this prompt

1k under the cut

click here to read on my blog instead of the dash

“You invited how many people over for Christmas dinner?”

Noah freezes for a moment and then closes the fridge door slowly.  He’s not afraid of Peter.  He’s never been afraid of Peter.  Not even when he first realized werewolves were real and Peter could, quite literally, rip out his throat before Noah could manage to blink.

Peter doesn’t scare him.

But the look on Chris’ face when he turns around and meets his husband’s gaze makes a sliver of fear trickle down his spine.  How strangely fitting that his completely human husband inspires more fear in him than his werewolf boyfriend does.

“Whatever number will get you to stop looking like you want to bury my body in the woods under an endangered plant so I can never be dug back up?  Subtract, like, two and that’s the number we’re going to go with.”

“Noah,” Chris grits out.

“Come on,” Noah says as he starts putting the rest of the groceries away.  “We had everyone over for Thanksgiving not that long ago.”

“Most of us, yes.  But all of us?  No.  Jordan wasn’t here for Thanksgiving.  Neither was Laura.  Or Allison.  Or the twins.  Or—”

“It’ll be fine.”

“How are we even supposed to fit everyone here?  It was already crowded at Thanksgiving!”

“Chris.  It’s the first time in years, hell maybe the first time pretty much ever, that we can all be in one place.  It’s not going to matter how crowded we do or don’t feel.”

“I know!  I know it’s the first time!  Do you know how dangerous that is?  Everyone here all at once?”

Noah immediately drops the boxes in his hands on the counter and crosses the kitchen to draw Chris into a hug.  Now he understands exactly what Chris is worried about with the whole thing and it’s not the space issue.

“I’m going to call Peter and the three of us are going to have a sit down, alright?”  Chris tenses in his arms but Noah just hugs him tighter.  “You’re not going to run away, Chris.  We’re talking about this.  All three of us.”

Chris huffs but he doesn’t disagree.

—

“I have been back in town for twenty-seven minutes,” Peter says.  “Pray tell me what was so important that I couldn’t even go back to my place and shower first.”

The front door shuts with a loud click and Chris forces the surge of panic down.  It’s irrational, he knows that.  But he’s been strung tight all week and today had just been the icing on the cake for whatever reason.  The boiling point.  The final straw.

Peter is there in an instant, warm hands cupping Chris’ face and forcing him to stop his pacing and look at Peter.

“Hi, Peter,” Noah says from the kitchen.  Chris hears him moving past them and settling on the couch but he can’t look away from Peter.

“Hello, Noah,” Peter replies as he holds Chris’ gaze.  There’s something in Peter’s eyes, something warm and strong and comforting and Chris is just so damn tired that he wants to sink into the promise he sees there.  The promise that they’ll be okay, that he’ll be okay, that Peter will make sure they are okay.

“Peter,” Chris whispers.

Peter smiles at him like he just made his entire day with that one whispered word and Chris finally lets himself fully fall for this ridiculous, smarmy, overly confident asshole that he would trust — and has trusted — with not only his life but the lives of his family.

The lives of his pack.  Their pack.

Peter takes a sharp breath when Chris opens up and fully accepts and gives their bond free rein.

“Christopher,” Peter breathes his name like it’s a gift.  His eyes flash when Chris leans his head forward to bump their foreheads together before tilting his head to press his cheek against Peter’s hand.  Peter’s other hand slides down to brush against Chris’ throat before it drops to his hip and then Chris is being hugged within an inch of his life.

“You’ll keep them safe, right?”  Chris wraps his arms around Peter’s waist and tucks his face into Peter’s shoulder.  “When they all come back?  When we’re all here together?  You’ll make sure nothing happens, that I don’t—”

Peter makes a shushing noise, cutting him off.  “You are not your family, Christoper.  You never have been.  I don’t need to worry about keeping them safe.  Because I have you here.  You and Noah both.  I can leave town without fear because I know the two of you are here to watch over them, to watch my back.”  He pulls away from Chris but only far enough to make Chris look up and meet his eyes once again.  “You give me peace, Christopher Argent.  You and Noah both.”  Peter glances over his shoulder and smiles at Noah.  “And I will do anything necessary to protect that peace.”

Chris takes a deep breath.

“Okay,” he says softly.

“Okay?”

“Yeah.  Okay.  Thank you.”

“Of course, darling,” Peter says.

—

Noah throws his arm over Stiles’ shoulder and gently shakes his son a little while Stiles laughs.  It’s good to have them all here, to have them all home.  Even if it is only for the holidays.

Before long Allison and the twins will be gone again.  Laura is staying through New Years but then she’ll be back on the other coast.  Erica and Boyd are leaving in a couple weeks for an as of yet undetermined amount of time.  So he’s going to soak up all the love and laughter and good cheer he can while they are all here.

Peter glances over at him from where he’s pressed against Chris on the couch and they smile at each other.  Peter has been damn near attached to Chris’ hip since the other day and Noah feels a flare of warmth every time he spots them together.

“Congrats, Dad,” Stiles says softly.

“What do you mean?”

“You and Pops and Peter.  A traditional Hale Pack triad.  From what I’ve read in the books from Peter’s library it’s something that hasn’t really happened in a long, long time.”

“That so?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that a good thing?”

Stiles laughs again and twists so he can bury his face in Noah’s shoulder as he hugs him.  “I think it’s a great thing,” he mutters.  “You three deserve the happiness.”

Then he’s pulling away and yelling at Jackson and Jordan about something and Noah just shakes his head as he lets the sound of Christmas with his pack, his family, wash over him.

“I think it’s a great thing too,” Peter murmurs when Noah joins him and Chris on the couch a few minutes later.  “I think we’re a great thing.”

“Yeah,” Chris says, wrapping his arm around Noah’s shoulders and tugging him close.  “I think so too.”

“Merry Christmas,” Noah says in lieu of all the thoughts of love and happiness that are crowding his throat.

“Merry Christmas,” Peter and Chris reply in unison.

It’s the best Christmas Noah has had in a long, long time.

#teen wolf #wolfy writing #noah stilinski #peter hale #chris argent #prompt #cattatonically

[learningnewways]

Week 1 Thoughts

While I may be a few weeks overdue with this blog post, these are my thoughts and musings from my first week being back in NZ.

When my flight from San Fransisco to Auckland landed in New Zealand and I walked off the plane, I nearly cried. After literally a week of travelling from The Gambia to NZ, with 2 cancelled flights and 2 overnight stop overs in NYC and San Fransisco, I was ready to get home. I always get anxious when flying, particularly on long-haul international flights, so I was feeling very relieved to land in NZ, especially after so many delays!

However when my flight from Auckland to Nelson was coming into land, instead of the anticipated tears of joy, there were tears of sadness. As I looked out at the stunning view of Nelson and Tasman, of the place I’ve called home for most of my life, something didn’t feel right inside of me. Instead of rushing off the plane like I thought I would, I ended up being one of the last people to get off the plane. Even thought I’d finished my mission and had surprisingly stuck out the whole last four difficult months, I also felt like I hadn’t quite finished my mission, or that I hadn’t achieved what I set out to do, but I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt that way. It was overwhelming and surprising. When I finally dragged myself off the plane and was slowly walking across the tarmac, I looked out at the hills that are so familiar to me and always feel like home, yet at my core it didn’t feel like home anymore. At the same time, The Gambia also didn’t feel like home, so where did I belong now? Despite not even walking into the airport yet, I already felt like an outsider, back in my hometown yet feeling like I don’t fit anymore, but not fitting in where I’d just been for the past three months either… It was not the feelings I had anticipated for my first few minutes of arriving in Nelson, that’s for sure, and it definitely started me off on a somber note.

It was just my dad waiting for me at the airport, and after a quick hug one of the first things he said to me was, “Well, now time for the depression to kick in!” He went on to talk about times when he’d lived overseas and would come back home and feel down for the first few months because he’d had this amazing experience overseas and changed, yet everything and everyone back home was just the same, and no one could relate to his experiences. I understood exactly what he meant, because I’ve also lived overseas before and had to deal with the transition that is coming back home. But this time felt different. I didn’t want to slip back into my “normal” life, and at the same time, I had a feeling that this wasn’t my home, but that The Gambia wasn’t either… Was this a case of, “we are in the world, but not of the world?” Or that, “this is our temporary home,” on the way to eternity with Christ? That it’s actually okay for nowhere to feel like home?

After a quick catch up with one of my best friends, I spent my first few days back in NZ in Golden Bay with my parents and boyfriend, which was really nice. Golden Bay has always been my happy place, so being able to just get away and spend quality time with them was much needed. The weather was nice and it felt like being in heaven, particularly after so many months in The Gambia. But towards the end of the weekend, I got a message from M saying there’d been rioting on the streets right outside our compound back in The Gambia. She sent through some videos she and her family had taken, and they made me cry. A local guy had been murdered and the suspect was being held at the police station down the road. The locals wanted justice and to take it into their own hands, and were protesting and rioting on the street as the police wouldn’t release him. The videos showed people throwing rocks at the police, police firing tear gas at the crowd, people running and screaming, fires in the middle of the road… It was terrifying! Literally right outside my house! Luckily no one was seriously hurt, although M and her family were sick for a few days because of the tear gas. But it really shook me. Here I was, in what feels like paradise, meanwhile back in The Gambia, where I was only a week prior, all this was going down… I was glad to have come home when I did, as being there with that happening would’ve freaked me out too much, but being so far away was also difficult.

One morning during my few short days in Nelson, I was back at my parents house, trying to sort through some suitcases of stuff I’d left at theirs while I was away and figure out what to pack for my trip to Christchurch. I was feeling overwhelmed looking at all my stuff and all the choices, after having only 5 options of clothes for the past 4 months. Even though I now had so many options of what to wear, I kept reverting back to the same few items I’d been wearing on repeat, overwhelmed by my new-found choice. At one stage I checked my phone and there was a message from Antonia. She had sent me some photos from my final day at the government shelter. I was looking through the photos of me and the kids, and there were two kids that I connected with in particular over my time there, and when I saw the photos of those kids, I started crying. And then I cried and cried and cried and cried. My crying turned into deep sobbing that I couldn’t stop.

Seeing the faces of these beautiful children in the government shelter, while I sat surrounded in an abundance of clothes in New Zealand, which is like heaven compared to their living hell, made me so overwhelmed and upset. I’m over here, safe and living the good life, while they remain there. My heart broke as I thought about the reality of that. Then I started thinking about all the other people I’d met and the injustices I’d seen and heard about, not just in The Gambia, but across the world. And so the tears kept coming. I may have mentioned on the blog before that one of my lifelong prayers has been, “Father, break my heart for what breaks Yours,” and in that moment I definitely felt a glimpse of what He feels. I’d felt it a lot in The Gambia too, after first meeting the trafficked girls, after visiting the babies and children in the government shelter… So many situations broke my heart. But now that I was facing the reality that I’m back here in paradise and they’re still there, it was unbearable. I was listening to Brandon Lake, so that probably didn’t help either! But I was just so overwhelmed by emotions and heartache, being so far away from The Gambia and knowing I need to do something about what I’ve seen and experienced, but what? There’s so many issues, so much injustice, where do you even begin?

I spoke to one of my best friends about a bit of what I was experiencing, about feeling like I don’t belong here anymore, pondering if I even what to belong here. I decided that I don’t. I don’t want to ever forget that the world is so much bigger than what we see here, that there are people who are suffering and need Jesus. I talked to her about my initial wrestlings and she had this great analogy for me about the seasons. She talked about how when we first enter winter or perhaps move to a country where it is very cold and snows, it’s hard to adjust. We miss the summer, we’re cold and miserable. Then over time, slowly but surely, we learn to embrace it. We learn what clothes to wear in the extreme cold, we learn how to shovel snow so we can drive, we make snow angels on the ground, we go sledding… Then just as we seem to be adjusting and possibly even thriving, the snow starts to melt or we move countries again. We aren’t ready to let go of the snow and winter yet, but it’s gone already. As the flowers start to blossom and the temperatures rise, we miss the winter and all it held. We had just learnt to thrive and now everything is changing again. Yet slowly and surely, we adjust and we find joy in the spring time. Then, every now and then, we see things that remind us of the winter. We see fluffs of white falling off trees that remind us of the snow, someone shovelling dirt in their garden which reminds us of the hard work of shovelling snow in winter… Winter is now a memory, not our reality, yet we still have all the learnings and emotions of it inside of us.

The image that it put in my head was so beautiful and exactly what I needed to hear in that moment. I’d just been in a really hard place for the last few months, where everything was new and it was a constant uphill battle. Yet towards the end I was beginning to enjoy parts of it, thrive even, and then suddenly I’m back home, confused and out of place. Yet I have all the learnings and emotions from my time in The Gambia. Will I go back to The Gambia? I’m not sure. Will I stay in Nelson forever? I’m not sure. What am I doing next year? I’m not sure! But there is beauty to be found in all of it. Speaking of beauty… New Zealand is so frickin beautiful… We are soooooo blessed to live here, with our amazing weather and absolutely stunning scenery. As I kayaked in Golden Bay and as I drove from Nelson to Christchurch, I felt like I was literally in heaven. I was thinking, if this is what earth is like, what is heaven going to look like?! Wow! Anyway, those are some initial thoughts from my first week back… I know that there will be a lot more processing and unpacking to be done…