#like??? what??? how are we supposed to stop people from assaulting us?? how is that our fault??

[wewindondowntheroad]

today it's clearer than usual that like dying at work is a thing that in my mind is always conceptually possible, but none of the customers understand that

#shoplifters beat up some of my coworkers yesterday #and today lots of the regulars were like how ??? and there was even one lady who was mad at the store that it had happened #like??? what??? how are we supposed to stop people from assaulting us?? how is that our fault?? #they don't understand #everytime someone raises their voice or is acting aggressive i'm like this is it my time has come i'm going to die in this godforsaken stor

[pellucid-constellations]

If It All Fell

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: If it all fell apart—if you forgot who you were—would you love him again? Would the bond guide you back? Azriel doesn't know if that uncertainty is one he can bear.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Nothing big in this one. Memory loss?? Overprotectiveness?? Azriel losing it (but not that much just yet)??

a/n: Hi this is going to be a series :) thank you for reading <3

Part 2 ♡

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

As you blinked through the haziness, a dull throb echoed along the base of your skull. You sat up abruptly, feeling rocks and twigs digging into the backs of your legs, and winced as several shouts attacked your senses. You recognized none of them.

Gods, your head hurt. 

A few more blinks and the sun made an appearance, light assaulting your too-sensitive eyes. The leaves beneath your hands crunched and blew away in the balmy breeze, a few flecks of green still stuck to your palm as you brought it up to rub your head. 

“Don’t,” a feminine voice warned, and it was then that you pinpointed one of the shouts from earlier. But it was warmer now, calm. “Don’t touch your head, y/n. Azriel and Cas are getting help.”

You scrunched your face up but obeyed the command, taking steady breaths to try and manage the pain. The woman in front of you—blonde hair, brown eyes, a fierce expression—was like no one you had ever seen before. She was so incredibly beautiful you weren’t sure if you were actually awake. 

You took a pause. 

And then another. 

Who was the last person you had seen? 

“Where am I?” you asked instead, trying to appear sane. Your voice sounded unfamiliar. 

The woman’s expression pinched. “You’re in Spring Court. You remember that, don’t you? Rhysand sent us.” 

“Rhysand?” you repeated, the name foreign on your tongue. “Sent us for what?” 

“Well, we were supposed to be rallying Tamlin into re-fortifying his borders to win back the Summer Court’s good graces, but that beast is an idiot. Forging agreements with witches was quite possibly the worst move he could have made.” 

“Witches?” 

“I know, unbelievable,” the blonde ranted, sitting back on her heels beside you. “We came to help only to find out he had helped himself to the wicked. I knew he was distraught after Feyre, but to turn to this?” 

The pounding in your head was making it increasingly difficult to follow the tale the woman was spinning. Perhaps if you had more backstory, more information, you would understand what she was talking about. 

Desperate for that connection, you winced as you asked, “Um, not to offend, but… who are you?” 

Her aggravated expression crumpled into one of shock and concern. Her mouth parted, her brows came together at a point, and then she shifted, bringing her hands to your shoulders. When you flinched at the touch, the woman pulled her hands back, her fingers curling into her palms. “You don’t recognize me?” she asked, trepidation lining her tone. 

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as pain shot up your neck. 

“Not at all?” she whispered. When your face remained blank, she pulled her hands into her lap. “Do you know who you are?” 

Another lapse in silence. 

“My Gods…” 

Darkness materialized nearby—swirling darkness. It reminded you of shadows and brought you a sense of peace for the first time since you opened your eyes. 

But then people started emerging from the darkness, taking up space in the vast forest, and that peace collapsed. Two large men with wings stomped against the twig-covered floor, causing a raucous disturbance as they began hurrying an older woman out from behind them. They both spoke in low, rushed tones and you wanted all the sound to stop. 

You ignored the woman’s directions from before and squeezed your head in your hands, your eyes snapping shut. It didn’t work, and you hadn’t expected it to, but Gods did your head hurt. It hurt and it was plagued by an impossible pressure that wouldn’t seem to let up.

“Mor, how long has she been awake?” one of the men asked. You felt him kneel beside you, felt him place rough, textured hands on your wrists in an attempt to pry your hands down. But he was gentle—so very gentle. 

“Azriel, she—” 

“Mor, if you could move aside. I need to look at her,” a much older voice chimed in. 

There was shuffling around you, new hands pressing to your face. You heard whispering that you couldn’t make out, and then the panic set in. 

You didn’t know these people. When you first woke up, the disorientation was focal; you were concerned about the pounding in your head and your whereabouts and that was it. But there were so many people here now, and you didn’t know any of them. 

You didn’t know who you were. Did they know who you were? They had to. 

“Majda, stop. You’re scaring her,” the man beside you, Azriel you’d heard him be called, practically hissed. 

Majda only hummed. “I am doing the job you brought me here to do. If I can’t work around a mating bond I will send you away, Shadowsinger.” 

Your breath came out in faster huffs, each one deeper than the last. You opened your eyes to try and gain some footing in the situation, still keeping your hands glued to your head. 

Your gaze went out before it went in, and you saw the blonde woman, Mor, beside a much larger man. His shoulder-length hair was messy and windswept, and he sent you a bittersweet, sympathetic smile that you couldn’t replicate. He watched with furrowed brows as your eyes darted from him, to Mor, to the wide forest around you. 

“I still don’t see why we couldn’t take her home first,” the man standing by the trees grumbled. “She would be more comfortable there.”  

“We didn’t want to move her with a head injury,” Azriel growled. “Not one from a witch.” 

His voice sent your attention towards him. Azriel was on his knees beside you, holding your wrists with his thumb circling the back of your hand in delicate strokes. He was painfully beautiful and you were left to wonder, yet again, if you were truly awake. When your gazes met, something foreign pulled at your ribs and the pressure sent an unexpected scream past your lips. You hunched over in a panic, yanking yourself away from those beside you.

That wasn’t right. None of this felt right. 

The older woman, Majda, cursed, staring after you as you pushed yourself further and further away. Each movement sent a new ache aflame in your head, but that didn’t stop you because you needed to get away. Your feet kicked up dirt and rocks and your hands tore with the effort but this wasn’t right. 

Azriel reached you before you could hit the tree just inches from your back. He held your head in his own hands and locked you in his gaze, keeping you trapped in the yellows and browns and the flecks that joined them. He took exaggerated breaths, wings flared out to block out the sun, and then he began whispering. 

It took a moment for you to understand the words, your heavy breaths mostly drowning them out. 

Something swished in the distance. More whispering, more secrets. 

“You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

When Azriel’s voice finally came through, it was like a lifeline. 

“I’m here, my love. You’re safe. I know it hurts, I know.” 

It was odd, finding peace in a stranger. The shadows that seemed to dance around him swirled into shapes that framed your skin, and some of the panic felt foolish in their presence. They twisted and curved, somehow amplifying the cool tone of Azriel’s voice as he promised you things you had no capacity to understand. 

But he never stopped talking, not even when your gaze left his to follow his shadows instead. If anything, the action seemed to spur on the small beings more, and you wondered—for a brief moment—if he was controlling them. 

Something like amazement seeped into your panic as you whispered, “Who are you?” 

You didn’t know the man in front of you, that much was true, but he looked so… broken at your words. Something akin to pain clashed with his beautiful features as his jaw clenched to an unnatural degree. You were surprised that his teeth didn’t crack beneath the pressure. You wondered what else he could withstand—what atrocities he’d seen to make his eyes turn so dark when you spoke your words out loud. 

“No,” Azriel growled, chin hooking over his shoulder. His wings pulled back to reveal a new man, but this one looked slightly different from the others. No wings, different eyes. “You stay out of her head, Rhysand.” 

Rhysand. He was the one that had sent you here.

The concern on Rhysand’s face looked unnatural, like it didn’t belong there. “Az, it could help. Let me help her.” 

“You could make it worse. We have no idea what that witch did to her.” As Azriel spoke, shadows began to cover you more and more. Your sight became dim, your body camouflaged in darkness. 

“Looking in could be the only way to figure that out.” The next bout of silence was uncomfortable. The pounding in your head persisted, exacerbating to the point of tears along your waterline. “I know what you’re feeling, Azriel. I get it. But I want to help her, brother. You know I would never hurt her.” 

A twig snapped beneath a boot.

Azriel growled low in his chest. 

The pounding gave way to a sharp pain, and it made your senses lighter, less focused. 

You couldn't remember ever passing out before, but you thought it might feel like this. 

“Stay away from her.” 

“She doesn’t remember you, Azriel.” 

A choked breath. “Don’t touch my mate.” 

Darkness that surpassed the shadows finally granted you a reprieve from the pain. 

Maybe you'd wake up and this would all make sense.

Part 2 ♡

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel #azriel fanfic #azriel spymaster #azriel angst

[qqueenofhades]

-Runs back into the room from having been wrapped up in the Sub Shitshow- context PLEASE on what’s up with Putin!?

Lol okay buckle up:

Yevgeny Prighozin is (well, as of now) one of Putin's closest allies. He is Putin's former chef and now the CEO of Wagner Group, the Russian private army of mercenaries who have spent a decade plundering Africa and destroying Syria in the employ of various terrible local dictators. Since the invasion of Ukraine, Wagner has become one of the Russian army's mainstays, mostly because they're the only ones who seem able to actually do anything. Of course, it did still take them nine months to take Bakhmut, Ukraine's *checks notes* 53rd largest city with very little strategic value, but given what a shitshow the regular Russian army has been, that's good. Or something.

The Russian army is mostly good at destroying dams and bombing civilians, which are obviously terrible for many reasons, but not that useful in the military scheme of things.

However, Wagner are also -- I hasten to stress -- thoroughly terrible people. Aside from all the shit in Africa and Syria, they've done likewise in Ukraine and will continue to do so. Legally speaking, they technically "don't exist," which has allowed them to get around a lot of the usual rules and regulations that are supposed to "bind" (ha) the Russian army. They are obviously in Ukraine directly at Putin's behest and doing Putin's bidding, but it turns out that giving an ambitious and amoral psychopathic warlord his own private army of criminals, rapists, killers, and whoever else they can dredge out of Russia's prisons to throw at the front line and die en masse may not be a good idea?

Shocking, I know.

Anyway, Prigozhin has spent months ripping into the Russian Minister of Defense, Sergei Shoigu, for what a whole shitshow clusterfuck this whole stupid war patently is. (Not, however, that this has stopped him from continuing to eagerly carry it out, since he's just as much or indeed even more of a zealot as the rest of Putin's government.) This has included blaming Shoigu for equipment losses, underprovisioning of Wagner troops, general strategic numbnuttery, etc. Prigozhin has not, however -- again, until now -- attacked Putin directly, or backed off from getting his losers killed in Bakhmut and/or wherever else. One suspects that Putin has been perfectly happy to let Prigozhin scapegoat Shoigu for the war's failures, since this means Shoigu can always just conveniently fall out a window or something if it gets too necessary to make a public show of displeasure, and not Putin.

HOWEVER, things took a turn VERY FAST today, within about 12 hours. Prigozhin has, as noted, spent months tearing the Russian military leadership a new asshole -- not because he's a good guy (he's a fucking war criminal on like, 10 different levels), but because it is plainly obvious what a shitshow this is and even a war criminal has his limits as to how much totally pointless murderous bullshit he wants to go through, I guess. (That includes telling the truth about why the war started -- i.e. to steal Ukrainian stuff/land for the oligarchs, and not any of Putin's other stupid excuses.)

Today (June 23) Prigozhin accused the Russian Ministry of Defense of orchestrating a rocket attack on Wagner's camp in eastern Ukraine (near the Russian border) and causing massive casualties;

We don't have proof of this yet, or indeed much else of what Prigozhin is talking about, BUT he finally decided to put his Coup Hat On and get serious about "punishing" Russian military leadership, i.e. presumably Shoigu, declaring that "there are 25,000 of us [Wagner soldiers] and we're coming into Russia to sort out this chaos"

So -- again, according to Prigozhin, who is not the world's most reliable source on anything -- he turned his army of yoinks around, left Ukraine, and marched into the southwestern Russian city of Rostov-on-Don, where the Russian military command in charge of the assault on Ukraine is headquartered;

For a while, there was nothing but Prigozhin's various unhinged rants on Telegram to prove any of this, but it's now early tomorrow morning in Russia and there are indeed a lot of videos of what DOES IN FACT LOOK like Wagner mercenaries rolling into Rostov and storming Ministry of Defense buildings;

Firm information on what is going on is almost nonexistent, even for Russia, but Putin is clearly taking this seriously; Moscow is shut down, there are armored vehicles on the streets, Google is down in Russia, and Russian newscasters are interrupting their broadcasts to insist Don't Look, Everything Is Fine Here, Totally Fine, Do You Hear Swan Lake? I Don't Hear Swan Lake!

Nobody can find Putin either, allegedly, but don't worry! He has been "briefed on the situation and everything is under control!"

The Russian FSB (successor to the KGB) has meanwhile issued a warrant for Prigozhin's arrest, said they'll charge/prosecute him for treason and armed rebellion against the state, and ordered him to stand down/his own men to arrest him

This, uh, does not appear to be working

ANYWAY, Putin's basically fucked no matter how this ends. Wagner literally just led an armed mutiny, he can't feel good about sending his ex-bestie Prigozhin back to Ukraine with any confidence that his orders will continue to be obeyed, it's Russian-on-Russian open war in the streets of Rostov and God knows where else, he's totally lost control of the narrative, the war, the domestic political situation, Wagner, probably good chunks of the Russian military command/elite establishment, etc., and we all know what happens to dictators in Russia who can no longer dictate

(And yet the Russian army is still finding time to lob some missiles at civilian buildings in Kyiv tonight, because they suck).

This is obviously a huge lucky break for Ukraine as well, since if the Russians are busy fighting each other, they can continue to push for a big breakthrough on their counteroffensive.

So yeah. Pride Month really wheeling out the big guns here, after Putin was the top option picked for Lady Karma to do her thing on in my poll a few weeks ago.

Stay tuned.

#anonymous #ask #russia ukraine war

[handmade-witch]

Incorrect Quote Generator × Slytherin boys part 4 (no i do not plan on stopping anytime soon) 😈

Part 1 ☆ Part 2 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Draco: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable... ...and also assault with a deadly weapon.

☆☆☆

*talking on the phone*

Mattheo: Remember how I said that Theodore and I were gonna have a calm night out for once?

[Y/N]: Yeah…

Mattheo: Well, we’re in jail.

[Y/N]: *hangs up*

☆☆☆

*The gang responding to being stabbed by a sword*

[Y/N]: Rude.

Draco: That's fair.

Mattheo: Not again.

Lorenzo: Are you gonna want this back or can I keep it?

☆☆☆

Lorenzo: I told Theodore that their ears turn red when they lie.

Mattheo: Do they?

Lorenzo: No.

Mattheo: Then why did you tell them that?

Lorenzo: Because I can do this.

Lorenzo: Hey Theodore! Do you love us?

Theodore, with their hands over their ears: No.

☆☆☆

Draco: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

Blaise: What the hell do you do?

Draco: I die? What kinda question...

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: I hate you.

Mattheo: Well, according to this picture I drew of us holding hands, that is untrue.

☆☆☆

Blaise: Where’s Draco?

Theodore: Doing stuff.

Blaise: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s [Y/N]?

Theodore: Trying to stop Draco from doing the stuff.

Blaise: And Mattheo?

Theodore: Trying to stop [Y/N] from stopping Draco from doing the stuff.

Blaise: I see. And what are you doing here, Theodore?

Theodore: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Mattheo from stopping [Y/N] from stopping Draco from doing the stuff.

☆☆☆

Draco: I spy with my little eye something that begins with the letter “s”.

Lorenzo: *looks over at Mattheo and [Y/N]*

Lorenzo: Is it “sexual tension”?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted.

Theodore: I’m “a couple of things”.

Mattheo: I’m “got distracted”.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: You know, there’s something weird going on with your face?

Blaise: What?

[Y/N]: You’re smiling! I didn’t know you could do that?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: I have issues.

Draco: Finally, you admit it! The first step to redemption is accept-

[Y/N]: With you.

☆☆☆

Lorenzo: Well, [Y/N] and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Lorenzo: That's right... We kissed!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Blaise: *crouches down*

Mattheo: *kneels down*

Theodore: *sits on the floor*

[Y/N]:

[Y/N]: I hate all of you.

☆☆☆

Lorenzo, admiring a sleeping [Y/N]: You’re so cute.

[Y/N], sleepily: I could beat your ass.

Lorenzo, lovingly: I know.

☆☆☆

#slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini #draco malfoy #matteo riddle #harry potter universe #incorrect quotes #lorenzo berkshire x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott x reader

[everythingelseisextra]

My Body Is Here

Part Five: Give Yourself A Reason

Part Seven: Lingering in Doorways

Description: A brutal accident leads to a revealing conversation. Warnings: Mention of trafficking, mention of guns and shooting, references to being drugged and withdrawal, skull being cracked (like in canon), references to sexual assault, panic attack, language, use of the word Gypsy for Roma people Word Count: ~3000 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @zablife @weaponizedvirtue @ttaechi @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @princesssterek @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul Author's Note: This is unedited. I have a headache and don't have the energy to go through and fix it. Hope it's not terrible.

You walk out of your house at two in the morning on Friday. You try to separate your thoughts, move through your work as though nothing unusual is happening. In the dark, you exercise the horses, and in the dawn, you return to eat and dress and make yourself presentable. Dressed to impress, with clean jodhpurs and a white collared shirt, you sit to wait for Tommy to appear.

The horses eat their hay, silent in the warm morning air, and birds sing faintly in the few trees that dot this barren countryside. Time trudges past, and you glance at the clock, brow furrowing. He’s usually early like you, greeting the day before it even fully awakens. At eight, you stand and start to pace, worry rushing through you. You haven’t heard from him since the call, and your mind jumps to the worst. You know how pain can feel like pleasure when the blade is sharp enough, and you know how exhilarating the finger on the trigger can be. You pause, take a breath, and try to convince yourself that you’re catastrophizing. 

At nine, you pick up the phone and call him. The line rings, and you stand in trepidation, heart in your throat. Just when you think no one will pick up, the ringing stops, and a female voice speaks. 

“Hello?”

“Hi.” You release a breath. “Is this— who is this?”

“This is Ada Shelby.” 

A spike of relief jolts through you and you speak a little too fast. “Tommy was supposed to meet me this morning. Is everything okay?”

“Who is this?” Ada grows suspicious, her voice losing the warmth it had when she first picked up. “One of Tommy’s women?”

“No— I mean— I guess, technically— but it’s not— we’re not—” You sigh, frustrated. “I’m a friend. That’s all. We were going to go look at horses.”

“You’re the one who sprayed him with a hose.” She softens, and you hear a weak smile in her words. “Right, okay. Well, he was certainly looking forward to it.”

“What happened?” 

“He got in a fight and his skull got cracked.” She sighs. “Poor Tom. Used cocaine to get him through the day.” 

“What?” Your blood goes cold, your eyes widen, and you feel yourself step back from yourself, an observer of your own reactions. Numbness flows, and you sigh, closing your eyes and tensing your muscles for a moment, working yourself back into your body. Something like panic shoots through you, simultaneously hot like fire and frozen like ice. You wrap your arm around yourself and take a shaky breath. 

“Scared the shit out of me. He could barely keep his head up.”  

“Is he okay?” Your voice shakes. Your hand clenches around the handset.

“Any longer and he would’ve died, but the doctors say he’ll make it through. Just had surgery on him yesterday. I’m taking care of Charles at the moment.”

“Who’s Charles?” Your mind latches onto the least awful thing, trying to sort through all the information you’ve just been given. 

“He’s Tommy’s son.”

“He has a son?” You shake your head. “Sorry. Sorry, but— Jesus Christ, he cracked his skull and made it through a day after?”

“Yeah, well, you know Tom. If he’s made his mind…” 

“Fuck.” You exhale the word, trying to remind yourself how to breathe, how to make yourself calm. “Fuck. Okay. Will they let people visit him?” 

“No, not until later. He wouldn’t even know who you were if you came now.” 

You run a hand through your hair, trying to sort out the next step, some way to move forward knowing this. You can’t go to the track without him. You can’t.

“Okay. Okay, I— I don’t live in town. I need— how can I get to him? What hospital? I can’t ride there, not to a hospital, not now.” You pinch the bridge of your nose. “I don’t have a car.”

“And you’re… his friend.” She says the word like she’s never heard it in this context before, like it’s completely new to her. “Just his friend.”

“Yes. Just his friend.”

“You can take a cab into Warwickshire and I’ll meet you there with Arthur and John.” 

“I don’t have…” To Warwickshire is several hours of driving, and you don’t have the money to pay for it.

“What? What don’t you have?”

Shame bubbles up in your throat, but you swallow it down and speak up. “I don’t have the money for that.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure Tom won’t mind if we cover it.”

“I don’t want to be indebted to you.” You shake your head. “I guess I can—”

“No, you won’t be. To be honest, love, I don’t think he cares about that amount.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

She’s quiet for a second, then, quietly; “His house has a name, if that gives you any idea.”

“You’re kidding.” You rub your forehead, completely nonplussed.

“Come to Warwickshire. He’ll need a friendly face when he comes out of it, and he’s not too keen on us at the moment.” 

“Um— okay.” You nod to yourself. “Okay. If he wakes before I get there, tell him I’m coming. Please.”

“I will.” She clears her throat. “See you in a bit.”

“See you.”

The hospital is a cold, concrete building, built more like a prison than anything else. Cave-like hallways flicker with uneven light, and your footsteps echo through them with each step. Around you, the sobs of patients and the creaking of cots consume the frigid air. The faint smell of rubbing alcohol burns your nostrils, and you close your eyes as the nurse leads you down the hall of thick, unforgiving doors. 

John and Arthur and Ada had all gone in before you. They came out thin-lipped and quiet, heads bowed as if at church, like something holy had sent them off. Ada murmured to you not to expect much, and you nodded, sharp anxiety pressing into your chest. Now, the nurse knocks sharply on the door, then opens it.

Her voice echoes around the square, freezing room. “Here she is, Mr. Shelby.”

She nods to you, then turns and walks off, hard-soled shoes clattering on the stone floor. You stand in the doorway, heart in your throat. He’s lying on a cot, and, at the angle, you can see the stitched wound in his skull from the surgery. His head turns slowly, and hazy blue eyes stare over at you, then look away again. 

He speaks to the rest of the room, apparently unable to shift his head for too long, letting his words echo over to you. “Don’t stare.”

“Sorry.” You blink out of your horrified spell and step inside, closing the door behind you. As quietly as you can, you walk over to sit down on a wooden chair next to him. His eyes are surrounded by pale purple, his skin pale and pallid. 

Inexplicably, you want to reach out and touch him, give him some sort of comfort in this cold, all consuming room. He’s talented at communicating in silence, and, right now, you simply don’t have the words to put your thoughts into, don’t have the ability to explain everything you’re feeling. When you were younger, when everything was twisted and terrible, you never knew if you were real unless you were touched. You never knew if you existed to other people until they put their hands on you. 

So, in silence, you reach out and place your hand on his. His skin is cold, calloused in places but fragile in others, and, for a moment, you’re not sure if he’ll respond in kind. His fingers twitch under yours, and then, slowly, he turns his hand and laces his fingers into yours. 

You stay like that, two specks of warmth in a cold, dark place, and you watch his bare chest rise and fall, watch his eyes close. There’s a half-full bottle of morphine on the bedside table, a spoon laying next to it. In this moment, neither of you are whole. You do not complete each other. You are separate, but syncopated, two notes that harmonize. And, for the first time today, you feel calm. 

“Will you come back?” His voice is gravelly as always, but slightly slurred, no longer sharp and commanding. 

“I’ll try. I have the horses, but… I’ll try.” You gently squeeze his hand. “Don’t need you going crazy in this jail cell.”

He squeezes back, weak, his only response. You lean back and close your eyes. Your mind swirls absently, flickering with memories you can’t place your finger on. Moments of intimacy with other people that you never knew the names of. The touch of another that you trust, gentle, loving, a comfort against the world’s atrocities. His hand warms in yours, the touch of skin against skin battling against the frigidity. 

“Thought I would die,” he says quietly. “Thought I would die and the last thing I’d see is that priest’s fucking face.”

“I’m sure your siblings have said this to you, but, if I could, I would kill him myself.” 

“No. Don’t get mixed up in all this.” His eyes remain closed. “Fucks with your head.”

“You think it’d be the first time?” You smile faintly. 

This gets his attention. His eyes open and flick over to you, waiting for an explanation. 

“It wouldn’t. I know what it does to a person.” 

“If you’re smart, you’ll stay away from me.”

“Tommy, you just asked me to come back and see you.” You shift forward in your chair to meet his eyes. “I’m not staying away from you. We’re past that.”

He blinks, and when his eyes open, he’s looking away from you. “I want you to stay.” 

It must be hard for him to admit that, when he desperately wants to keep you at arm’s length. When his instincts say to separate and protect and avoid, but he truly needs something else, something different.

“I can’t. The horses need feeding. I can come back, though. I can probably even stay the night and leave in the morning, if you want.” 

He pulls his hand away from yours and nods. “Go take care of your horses, then.”

You stand, the echo of his hand in yours tingling faintly. “I’ll see you, okay? And, once you’ve recovered, we’ll go get that racehorse.”

His eyes slide closed and he nods faintly. You turn and leave the room, stepping lightly to avoid announcing yourself to every patient in the entire building, and walk back down the long hallway. 

“You have a son.”

At night, the hospital room seems to freeze over. You curl into yourself on your wooden chair, trying to preserve your warmth and keep yourself from shivering. Pale moonlight shines in from the high windows, impossible to open but insistent on allowing in the cold air. 

“Yes. I have a son.” 

“You never mentioned him.” 

He shrugs. He sits up in bed, arms crossed over his bare chest, and he looks down at the blankets covering his lower half, not at you. 

“You also didn’t mention that you have more money than most people know how to do with. You came and looked at my little house and thought— what? What did you think?” 

“I thought nothing. Your money is spent elsewhere.” 

“How could you think nothing? Is that why you wanted to buy Draco? I’m not a charity case, Tommy.”  

He’s quiet.

Irritation heats up in your chest. “I asked you a question.”

“I grew up a gypsy boy with too many brothers and not enough to care for them.” His words are quiet, more refined than a few days ago. “Saw a man beating a horse and went after him with a stick. That man had friends. So, they said, ‘Go away to the war and come back with something.’ Came back with nothing. Built my way up from there. I don’t give a fuck about your earnings.” 

It’s the most he’s spoken in days. You cross your arms, mirroring him, brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you tell me, then? Not about the money, I get that, but about your son?”

He glances at you, then looks back down. His skin has more color in it before, the almost-invisible freckles across it showing in the moonlight. “I wanted you to give me a chance.”

“A chance at what, exactly?” 

He doesn’t answer. His eyes shift to you, those careful, bright eyes flicking over you, as if begging you to read his mind. You can’t.

“Always the mysterious one, aren’t you?” You shake your head, gently pushing his shoulder. His face remains stoic. 

“I looked into you. Asked everyone I knew in France about a girl at a boarding school from America. No one knew you, no one had heard of you. I need to know.” He speaks softly. “I need to know.”

You look away. “Why, Tom? Why do you need to know? It’s not who I am anymore. I don’t want to be that person anymore.”

“I need to know who you are.” His head tilts, his eyes still fastened resolutely to his legs. “I’ve told you who I am.”

“It’s different.” 

“Tell me how it’s different.”

You bite down on your lip, looking up at the ceiling. “Please, can’t you just trust me?”

“I need to know.” 

“Okay.” A lump forms in your throat, and you don’t even try to swallow it down. “Okay. I’ll tell you. You have to promise me something first.”

He nods.

“Promise me you won’t treat me different. Promise me you won’t treat me like a bomb about to go off.” 

“I promise.” 

“Okay.” You close your eyes, a faint burning sensation behind them. “I guess… It starts with my mom and the man who got her pregnant. I don’t really know what happened. I just know he kept women, rented them out to other men, sent them to other parts of the world.” You glance at him, waiting for a reaction and not getting one. “After I was old enough, which, to him, was when it wouldn’t cause permanent damage, he sent me off to France, where I was kept as… well, I was kept there to be used. There were other girls. One of them taught me how to shoot. I fell in love with her.” Your throat closes and your words grow choked. “When I was fifteen, one of the men that kept control of us beat her to death. I shot him, and I ran. I made it to the streets, hid in alleyways and basements, spent my time half lucid. They kept us drugged, and the withdrawal almost killed me.”

Your lip quivers. Memories drip slowly through your mind. Darkened hotel rooms, the taste of alcohol on your lips, the feeling of your body being broken over and over again, the fogginess that kept you alive, kept you able to do your work. You remember her icing and dressing your wounds. You remember her brushing through your knotted, wild hair. You remember her touch, so gentle compared to a man’s, saving you from your own mind. 

“I ended up working at a racetrack. They barely paid me, and it was hard work, but I was good at it. That’s how I ended up where I am now.”

“Why did you leave France?” His voice stays quiet and even, but not quite unfeeling. There’s a respect to the way he speaks to you now.

“They found me.” A silent tear drips down your cheek. “They found me, and I had to run again. You can’t find any information about me because there is none. I existed in underworlds and living nightmares, and then I was nobody. I’m no one. I’ve never been myself, I’ve just been the things other people want me to be. You can’t find out who I am because not even I know who I am.” 

“You’re not.” 

“What?”

“You’re not no one.” He turns to look at you, blue eyes clearer and softer than you’ve seen them in the last few days, or maybe even since you met him. “You’re someone to me.”

You scoff, wiping another rogue tear from your face. “You barely know me.”

He swings his legs off the side of the bed, one of his knees between yours, and leans forward to meet your eyes. You grow still, the intensity of his attention freezing you. 

“I don’t waste time, do I?” His eyes flick over your face, trying to read you. “Don’t waste time on nobodies, do I? You’re not nobody. Don’t give a shit what happened to you, or who you think you are, or whether you have fucking money or not. You don’t have to hold your head up so high that you forget who the fuck you really are.” 

You sniffle. It’s too much. Your heart pounds in your chest and you find yourself unable to breathe. You shake your head, pushing your chair back from him and standing. “I need to go.”

“No, you don’t. You can—”

“Thomas!” You gasp for breath, tears spilling from your eyes. “If I say I need to go, I need to go.” 

Before he can speak, you’re gone. Head bowed, body trembling, throat closing and lungs on overdrive, you try to silence your panting as you walk down the hallway. You’re fading in and out, failing to pull yourself out of your own head. There are hands on you, gripping at your flesh, trying to hold you. Pandora's Box has opened, and you’re caught in the stream of terror coming from it, stuck, light in the head. You leave the hospital, closing your eyes and repeating to yourself, over and over again. 

My body is here and I am inside.

My body is here and I am inside,

My body is here and I am inside.

#thomas shelby #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine #peaker blinders fandom #tommy shelby fanfic #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby imagine #peaky fucking blinders

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 38)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (35) & Alexia Putellas x Character (6)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**Don't be mad at me, please! Good stuff coming next chapter!**))

It was Friday morning and Lucy was just making breakfast when she heard Narla barking like crazy. Postman. She suddenly got excited and ran to the door, grinning at the package on her doorstep. It had arrived later than expected and she’d been like an eager child. Today was going to be a good day. A present. A hard training day for the game tomorrow. A bar dinner with Alexia after practise, and then YFN’s flight was supposed to land at 10pm.

She brought the little box inside and placed it on the coffee table in her lounge room so Narla could see it better. She was also interested.

“What’s this, Narls, huh? A present from mum’s girlfriend?”

Narla yapped at her as if they were having a conversation.

“Of course, you knew that, how silly of me. Oh, you’re going to love her. She’s coming tonight, remember!”

Narla yapped again, this time a little impatiently as Lucy tore into the box. She loved opening things; it was always like a Christmas present for her.

Inside she found three items. One was a new chew toy for Narla, a little football which she threw to her to stop her yapping. She loved it and Lucy wondered if it would last until YFN arrived. The second was a little set of sandcastle buckets with a shovel. It may have seemed like a silly little thing to most people, but not to Lucy. She immediately thought about how high and complex she’d now be able to build them with these. She grinned. YFN probably didn’t realise the monster she created by gifting those. The last item was a small blue polaroid camera.

She read the printed note inside the box.

Hi Luce,

We just hung up the phone and I already miss the sound of your voice.

I hope you and Narla like your presents. I’m excited for our beach mornings and sunsets!

As for the polaroid camera, I thought we could make some memories with it…

I can’t wait to see you again. I miss the warmth of you next to me.

I miss you.

YFN x

Lucy leant back against the couch and read the note again, unable to control her smile. 10pm tonight she’d be there. 10pm.

“A bit distracted, Lucia?” Mapi teased as her ball hit Lucy’s stomach before she had time to react.

They were standing in a circle, doing their usual training.

“YFN’s coming tonight.” Kiera teased from Lucy’s left, giving Lucy a light shove.

Alexia was on Lucy’s right and moved a little closer. “Your girlfriend is coming tonight?”

Lucy nodded, understanding the real question. “Yeah but not until 10pm. I’ll be with you until around 9:30pm. I figured we couldn’t be out too late anyways with the game tomorrow.”

“Ah,” Alexia nodded, though with a cheeky expression. “You are definitely not Spanish, Lucia.”

She slapped the opposite shoulder Kiera had, and Lucy rolled her eyes, used to being assaulted by everyone. What Alexia had meant was that in the Spanish culture, it was normal to stay up late and dinner around 9 or 10pm wasn’t unusual.

Jonatan called a break and Lucy pouted at Alexia as they took water bottles from the esky. “How long do you plan on staying out?”

The game was just over 300km south of Barcelona in Villareal at 4:30pm and their short flight left at midday. It wasn’t ideal for YFN who Lucy had also booked flights for, nor was it ideal for Alexia to be awake too late waiting for someone who may not show.

Alexia shrugged. “Midnight maybe.”

She had that determined look in her eye but Lucy could also see a little excitement there.

“Are you driving?”

“I’ll Uber.” Lucy didn’t like the thought that it allowed her to drink but she knew Alexia better than that. She wouldn’t drink before a game day.

“I’ll pick you up. I need to leave for the airport at 9:30pm though but you’ll only have to Uber one way.”

Alexia nodded.

“You two are going out?” Ona said, joining their little group huddled around the esky. Alexia always had people huddling around her, Lucy noticed.

Lucy found a soccer ball and sat down, looking at Alexia to answer.

“Si, but not for long.” She replied in Spanish.

Lucy scoffed. Five hours was definitely long enough.

“Lucia’s girlfriend in flying in tonight,” Asisat Oshoala teased. She was always being cheeky, especially with Lucy. They bantered well. Lucy looked at Ona for a reaction and she wasn’t surprised at her trying to hold her emotions together. She did quite well, to be fair.

“But isn’t it ah…storm tonight?”

Lucy sat up straighter. “What?”

“Oh, yah you’re right. Big storm tonight! Flights being cancelled already.” Oshoala shrugged.

“Already? It’s 5pm!” Lucy groaned and looked around for her phone. Alexia was quicker and knelt down next to Lucy, showing her the news report. The gesture wasn’t lost on Lucy. A week ago, Alexia wouldn’t have been this publicly empathetic towards her.

Lucy looked at the report. It was expecting most passenger liners to be cancelled, and the worst of the storm was hitting around the time that YFN was due.

“Fuck!” She swore between gritted teeth. Alexia rubbed her back. Again, an unusual new development in their friendship. She was pissed, YFN didn’t have much time off. She’d told Lucy the day before that she needed to be back for the games on Sunday, one of which was now starting earlier as she’d made a promise to Kyra.

She internally groaned at that. Her mind asked ‘Why does she have to be such a good person…” and then her mind also answered the question before she’d finished asking it ‘because it’s YFN and this is why we love her.’

The more Lucy read, the more upset she got. She gave Alexia her phone back and put her head in her hands.

“Is it that bad?” Kiera asked.

Lucy nodded into her hands and Oshoala answered. “Very bad weather. Very bad.”

Jonatan called an end to practise entirely then and Oshoala patted Lucy on the back as she walked towards the changing rooms. A few others followed suit until it was just Lucy. Or so she thought. She lifted her head, and wiped away the tears she’d been hiding. She jumped when she saw Alexia still sitting there.

“Sorry,” she gave a little smile. “Are you okay? We don’t have to go tonight.”

“No, we’ll go. It’ll be a good distraction, but I might be on my phone a little more to talk to YFN and check flights.”

“That’s okay. I’m happy you come with me.”

Lucy smiled at that mistake. “Let’s hope one of us gets the girl tonight, hey?”

Alexia had struggled to decide what to wear, eventually deciding casual was best. It was just a bar, after all. She was in dark jeans, white Nike’s, a white crop top exposing her midriff and a black leather jacket. She couldn’t even decide what she wanted to do with her hair and ended up with it down, however putting hair ties around her wrist in case she changed her mind.

Lucy texted just after 6pm and Alexia went to meet her outside. She was waiting in her car, furiously on her phone, and also dressed casually. Lucy loved her casual. She loved her oversized clothes and men’s shirts Alexia had noticed. It suited her well. Alexia saw her clothes better as she got closer. Light brown pants accented with a dark brown belt, her white and light brown matching Nike shoes of course, a tight white singlet and a brand new open white button up shirt. Lucy loved to accessorise also with necklaces and rings along with her studs and nose ring. Alexia tended to notice these little things about people as she loved fashion.

Lucy looked up from her phone as the door opened and looked Alexia up and down with her typical grin, this one more knowing, though.

“Don’t say a word, Lucia.”

“I was just going to say you looked nice.” She said as if she wasn’t also wondering how many times Alexia had changed. Alexia knew her better than that, though.

“Drive.”

They arrived to the bar already busy. Javier ran a comfortable, clean, bustling establishment and anyone could see the pride he put into it. It was due to this, that being busy wasn’t unusual. No matter the day or time, Javier’s bar was always popular, though tonight it was even more so as it was a Friday.

They entered the place and were greeted by a host Alexia recognised.

“Ah, Alexia!” He grinned and came over for their typical Spanish greeting. Lucy also did, and it was always funny to Alexia to watch Lucy have to be physical with people. She didn’t enjoy it. It’s one of the reasons she was so eager to meet her new girlfriend. “Javier has your spot reserved. Come, follow me.”

The host spoke in Spanish, though Alexia knew that Lucy knew enough to understand that.

“Reservation?” She asked behind her as they followed him through the crowd. She seemed overwhelmed by the place, and Alexia wasn’t surprised. She had also been overwhelmed the first time she’d come.

“Si, uh, it gets busy.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t worry, Lucia, we are safe here from cameras and people.”

The girls in the team had spoken about the bar often. It was one of the reasons they liked it so much, because anyone who came to Javier’s knew to respect boundaries and that no sneaky photos or paparazzi were allowed.

“Here you are. Here are your menus, and the girls will be over soon for drinks.”

Alexia’s favourite spot was a booth that hung onto the corner of the drinks area which allowed drink service across the bar straight to the table. It also had a great view of most of the establishment including the stairs to the private rooms, and also the stage. Alexia looked around and couldn’t see Ridley just yet.

“Anything?” Lucy asked, still looking around the place almost dad-like.

“No.”

A server appeared across the bar and served them then. Alexia and Lucy both weren’t drinking and ordered mocktails instead. They would only allow themselves a few though as they needed to limit bad sugars and keep healthy. Alexia couldn't help her eyes wandering through the bar even though she obviously wasn’t there. She would have been very obvious is she was; surrounded by people and stared at like Alexia was at football games or events.

“It’s early…” Lucy reassured. “If she’s a true Spaniard, she won’t be here until later.”

“She’s not Spanish.” Alexia responded without even thinking about it.

“Oh?”

“She’s Australian.” She’d forgotten how she knew this, most likely through Javier or people she’d spoken to about her, and she never would have guessed. It’s only when she realised she was Australian that she could pick up that hint of an accent and match it.

“Oh, we both have Australian problems, do we?”

Alexia rolled her eyes. “Mine is a problem, yours is not.”

“Not unless you count the crazy people.” That made Alexia laugh a little. Lucy always loved making people laugh. “Tell me about her?”

“There is not much to say, I don’t know her…well.”

“When did you see her last?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“And you haven’t been back?”

“No. We’ve been busy.”

They had been busy, that was for sure. But Lucy thought it was also due to another reason. They ordered an early dinner, Alexia grumbling that no human should be eating so early. As they waited, she opened up a little more.

“I saw her…often for months here. Then she went for five months. Then I see her again. Then she’s gone for five months.”

“Wow, you remember her after basically ten months without speaking?”

“Si, it’s pathetic.” Now Lucy could see why she was so mad at herself. She couldn’t escape this woman.

“No it’s not,” she said sympathetically. Lucy didn’t usually open up but felt like Alexia needed it. “If YFN and I hadn’t gotten close, I would be thinking about her for years. She’s just…I can’t even explain. She just occupies a part of me.”

“Occupies?”

“Ocupa?”

“Ah…yes, like that. We talked to say hello and goodbye and sorry but that’s all.”

“You were talking about Javier the owner? Does he know where she goes to?”

“He said it’s for work, and she parties when she doesn’t work. Normally in Ibiza.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen her there.”

“Me too.”

They talked a bit longer about Alexia’s crush until the conversation shifted to football and then onto family and all things they’d never spoken about before. It had evolved to a natural conversation as if they regularly went out just to talk. They ate dinner as they talked, Lucy eating so fast that Alexia was genuinely worried for her and the amount of room she took up on the table. That was Lucy though, and she was unapologetically herself. She listened to Lucy speak about her family, Narla, and when she spoke about YFN she changed. She became someone else and Alexia saw her soften and smile without even knowing she was. She’d sent her a few surprises this morning and Alexia personally wouldn’t have wanted sandcastle buckets, but she knew it was perfect for Lucy. She was Captain and made sure to know her players well. Lucy was one of those players who could influence an entire team, an entire game. She was either high, high energy or very low energy and quiet. A few of the Barca team had been worried about Lucy’s personality clashing when she moved over, however it hadn’t been an issue at all. Alexia had watched as she came in almost shy and took the young players under her wing and slowly integrated with the team to the point where she was now her loud, happy self. That’s one thing she loved about Lucy, the fact that she was happy most of the time, always smiling, even when things were terrible. It was easy then to spot when she was actually going through something horrible, as it would be written over her face. On top of this, Lucy had always been a player she respected highly. Her determination, tenacity and self-confidence were always things Alexia had struggled with, though she never showed just how much. She always kept a brave face. Lucy’s ability to speak impactfully and stand up for players and female football all together were also qualities she’d admired. She hadn’t told her all of that, of course, but she knew Lucy respected her also from the way she treated her. They didn’t need to tell each other; they both knew.

They talked for hours just enjoying each other’s company until it dragged closer to 9:30pm and Lucy became more worried, checking her phone more often.

“Can she come?” Alexia’s limited English made it frustrating to speak, though she did it for her teammate.

“Maybe…there’s a few flights going but we’re unsure. She’s at the airport and they haven’t boarded yet. I…I think I’m going to leave anyway and go to the airport to try and find a flight for her. Will you be okay?”

Alexia nodded. “I’m okay, I will find Javier to say a hello and go home.”

“Do you want me to wait?”

“No Lucia, it’s okay. Thank you for tonight. Go and get your woman.”

Lucy chuckled at that and when they both slipped out of the booth, Lucy hugged her.

“We’ll keep coming back until she’s here, okay?”

Alexia was unsure if it was even worth it, but she nodded and watched as Lucy walked away.

Alexia found the host again and asked where Javier was. She’d seen him moving around through the bar but he hadn’t spotted her and had looked busy. To be honest, once she’d started a full conversation with Lucy, she hadn’t noticed much around them anyways.

“Javier is upstairs sorting out a little drama…” He admitted.

Alexia nodded. It wasn’t regular but it also wasn’t unusual for there to be some drama in the private rooms. She headed up the stairs, looking for her friend. Most rooms were closed, and some were open as they were being cleaned. She rounded the corner where her room eleven was and came to a halt when she saw Javier. He was talking to a figure leaned up against the doorway looking as relaxed as always. She was in dark jeans and a bra, no shoes, no jacket, just that.

“Are you sure you don’t need help? I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

Javier gave her a sceptical look. “It’s all sorted. Go back to your entertainment for the night.”

He spotted her out the corner of his eye then and turned, giving a polite wave and beckoning her over. Ridley’s eyes fell on Alexia and refused to move. They looked her up and down unapologetically.

“La Reina.”

“Alexia!” Javier gave her a proper greeting.

“Hello,” she said in Spanish with fake confidence. It took every fibre of her strength to not look at Ridley, though she could feel her stare burning into her. “I came to find you to say goodbye.”

“Ah, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you and your friend earlier, it’s been a nightmare, let me tell you.”

Before Alexia could respond, one of Javier’s security was beckoning him up the hall and towards where she assumed the drama was occurring. He said his apologies and left to sort it out.

“You’re leaving?”

Alexia looked to Ridley, barely holding her demeanour. “Si, I’ve been here for a few hours, catching up with a friend.”

“I didn't see you…”

“I was in my usual spot,” she smiled politely and couldn’t help but wonder who was in the room behind her. “Have you been here long?”

“Just arrived. We must have missed each other.”

There was a silence then as they stared at each other. Alexia saw Ridley’s pupils dilate as she tilted her head. She looked over Alexia’s face at each of her features, her eyes tending to settle a little longer on her lips. Alexia held strong her confidence for the sake of appearance but couldn’t help her eyes darting into the room and back out. Ridley smirked at that. She really did notice everything.

"I hope you have a good night.” She turned to leave but Ridley’s response stopped her mid turn.

“Would you like to watch?”

It was the same question as that last time she’d seen her and just like then, Alexia hesitated. Her eyes met the teasing gold flecks dancing around Ridley’s dark eyes, though she couldn’t form a response. Unlike last time though, Ridley stepped into her space; the woody, spicy, musky smell melting her, and said something different. “That wasn’t a no, la Reina.”

She waited, though Alexia could still give no response and when Ridley stepped to the side, Alexia found her feet moving her into the room. She stopped as she heard the door click behind her, the locks sliding into place. Ridley’s hands found her hips and gently guided her into the darkened room. She was worried what she’d find, though it wasn’t unexpected. There was a woman, a very attractive woman, lying naked on her bed. Her blonde dyed hair was loose and across the pillow, her wrists tied together and to the bedframe above her head. She also sported a blindfold and a set of headphones.

Sensory deprivation. Alexia hadn’t tried it before, but it looked…incredible.

Ridley made sure the look on Alexia’s face was to her satisfaction before she leant over her other woman and pulled the headphone off of one ear.

“Baby, I have a guest here. She’s going to watch and help. Is that okay?”

“I trust you.”

“Good girl. Be patient, baby, you’ll feel good soon enough.”

She put the headphone back over her ear and kissed her gently on the lips. Alexia’s stomach dropped at that and she felt jealous. She wanted to kiss Ridley. She came back to Alexia, standing in front of her.

“You look nervous, Alexia.”

Something in her body awakened at that. It’s the first time she’d said her name. Ridley noticed and smirked, her fingers touching her cheek lightly.

“Ask me anything.”

“Is she your girlfriend?” Alexia whispered.

“No. She’s someone I sleep with.” Noticing Alexia’s unsure look, she continued. “She gets tested often. So do I. We satisfy each other.”

“You’ve been with other women though.”

“So have you, la Reina. I’ve seen you flirting around this bar with different people. You’ve been up to these rooms as often as me.” Her Spanish was impeccable, and the tiny hint of an Australian accent melted her.

Her words also shocked her. She’d been keeping track of her?

The question must have been written on her face because Ridley ducked down close enough that their lips were almost touching. “Are you here for me?”

Alexia found herself too proud to answer that.

“Hm. Will you tell me if I admit to you the reason I’m here?” Her lips found her ear where she whispered. “I come here to see you.”

Alexia shivered, her head moving towards Ridley.

“W…What do you want from me?”

“Oh many, many things. For starters, I’d like to see you doing what you’re told. Can you do that?”

Alexia nodded. Pride out the window.

“Good girl.” Ridley ghosted her lips over Alexia’s teasingly. “Now get on top of her and kiss her.”

She stepped to the side so Alexia could better see the woman on the bed. She felt Ridley behind her carefully taking off her leather jacket and placing it on a spare chair in the room. Without thinking too much about it, Alexia was on top of the gorgeous woman tied to the bed and Ridley watched as Alexia kissed her. The kiss was soft at first as the woman got used to Alexia, and then it became more open mouthed and with purpose.

“That’s enough.” Ridley said almost harshly. She guided Alexia through what she wanted her to do. To kiss her neck. To suck her nipples. To work her mouth down her body until she was settled between her legs. Ridley settled above Alexia, her mouth at her ear.

“Eat.”

Alexia did as she was told. She tasted the woman on the bed whose body gave away just how much she wanted Ridley. She was soaked.

Alexia made quick work of her; her mouth assaulting her clit. The woman on the bed wriggled desperately, moans and whimpers coming from her mouth as Alexia worked.

“Good girl. Fingers now too.”

Alexia’s fingers teasingly ran around her hole, feeling it clench around nothing. It must have been too slow for Ridley though as she took Alexia’s right hand with her own, lining up their index fingers and pushing them both in. The girl on the bed sucked in a breath and gasped at the feel. Ridley controlled her and Alexia’s fingers into the woman for a few strokes until she pulled hers out and left Alexia to finish the job. Alexia felt herself squirming excitedly and then Ridley’s hand slipped between Alexia’s body and the bed, finding its way down her pants and to her core.

“You want this?” Ridley asked in her ear.

Alexia nodded against the woman’s clit.

“Out loud.”

Her mouth popped off of her clit just to respond. “Si.”

Ridley’s fingers moved into Alexia’s folds like she knew her. She teased her clit while Alexia was getting her woman close. She just didn’t know how close Ridley was getting her.

It only took another minute for the woman to scream out asking for Ridleys permission to come. She didn’t give it until Alexia was also close and relished the feel and image of them coming simultaneously.

As Alexia came down, the warmth on her back disappeared as Ridley stood. It was then that she realised what she was doing. Ridley wasn’t kissing her. She was using her for the woman on the bed. Ridley didn’t want Alexia, she wanted her.

Alexia was ashamed of what she’d just done. She stood and felt the panic overwhelm her as she darted for the door. Ridley managed to catch her, holding her against the door with a worried expression.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m not just one of your girls you can control.” She had no idea where that came from but suddenly she remembered who she was. Strong, confident Alexia Putellas, Captain of Spain and Barcelona.

Ridley’s worry fizzled away as she realised Alexia was okay, just mad at her.

“I don’t think of you like that, Alexia.”

Again, that name from her mouth sounded like it dripped with honey.

“This,” she gestured to where she’d just been, “this makes me feel like that.”

Ridley looked like she’d been expectedly exposed and she leant down as if to kiss Alexia but stopped herself short. Alexia had been watching her closely, wishing she hadn’t stopped. She wanted her, not some random woman.

“I…I don't know how to give you anything else…” Ridley admitted with a pain in her eyes Alexia couldn’t understand.

“Ridley?” The voice came from the bed. Alexia’s heart sunk. She was so conflicted with no idea how or why.

“You need to go to her.”

The look on Ridley’s face said that she didn’t want to be anywhere except right there, with Alexia.

“I…” She leant forwards again, letting herself show just how much the footballer mesmerised her. Her fingertips brushed Alexia’s lips ever so softly and they parted under her touch. Ridley. Ridley. Ridley. It was like a chant in her head. All Ridley needed to do was give up that control, but they both knew it was more than that. “Yes, I do.”

Ridley composed herself and took a step back, the two watching each other for a little before Alexia turned and left.

Her back hit the wall outside as she took some deep breaths and shivered, trying to understand what happened. She needed to control herself. She had a game tomorrow.

Alexia took out her phone to order an Uber just as a message from Lucy appeared.

Lucy: All flights cancelled. She’s not coming. Do you need a lift home?

#woso #womens football #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #woso imagine #jordan nobbs #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #engwnt #lionesses #lucy bronze imagine #woso x reader #alexia putellas #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #fc barcelona #barca #culers

[lazywriters-blog]

THE DESPERATE HERO

YANDERE IZUKU MIDORIYA

Warning: May contain triggering content, sexual assault, non-consensual touching, creepy and stalkerish behavior, and yandere content.

Summary: She has been a fickle little friend, and her avoidant nature leads up to a disastrous position, and her best friend is the center of it all. Grown into a man, a focused and determined young man that meets with his distant friend who will avoid him at any cost. What shall occur?

"Hey, I stopped by to see you again, are you home?" three taps on the door and her shoulder flinch up, blood-shoot eyes swift to steady on the voice behind the main entrance, menacingly dark and unwelcoming, "I want to talk to you, please don't ignore me." he pleaded, another series of knocks chimed throughout her space and tensed up the peace. Then, it began. The phone calls.

The device illuminated with life in the clutches of her hand, stiff and unrelenting against the soft metal that buzzed silently, she peered down and without a thought, pressed her finger on the power button and brought the screen into darkness. Lifeless and still.

"You don't even pick up your phone, how am I supposed to talk to you? Please just let's sit down and speak, I'm sorry for what I did the night before." he continued, "I wasn't thinking straight." He had leaned closer to the door, kept his hand on the handle, and tried to listen in to her movements she's sure. "You don't have to isolate yourself, there are people who care about you, please let me help you."

The peacekeeper talk had crawled under her skin, the times he uses it to bring about change that would benefit him, and keep her aware of her every wrongdoing. Her bad habit of pushing people out of her life had become a prominent obstacle in his way, and he had his chances.

She knew she should have kept away from him the moment he held her hand, but best friends always do, so she never said anything about it.

She really should have pulled her hand back when he blushed and flashed her a shy smile, gently combing through his green hair and leaving no space between them. She was wrong in not doing anything.

"I... Know you were avoiding me since the time we held hands, you were cutting me out of your life and I didn't want that! I want to be your friend forever, I want to help you, please let me in." his voice held no motive other than to convince her she was the one who was overreacting. Somehow, his kiss was a friendly gesture, and she'd never believe that the innocent izuku had put his lips on hers, he just didn't seem the most courageous. When it came to her, at least.

"That one time, I called out your name, you almost pretended that you didn't hear me and walked into the bathroom, that was mean of you but I'm not mad, I get it, I'm somewhat clingy, and I'll try my best not to be. So, please open the door."

She would rather risk their friendship than feel the immense discomfort of being observed under his gaze, but confrontation seems impossible once she steps out and into the wide big world, he'd find her during his duty and she would have to sprint back home in a sweaty mess. Barely managing to dodge him all while.

Her eyes locked onto the handle and saw it shift, she knew his patience was cracking and she'd be one to piece them back for the sake of harmony.

He never liked her pushing him out of her life. All too many times, that seemed to be the case for her, and to get him off her back she would get to be the peacekeeper.

"Please let me inside your life. I want to be a part of it, even if a little. I want to be by your side."

The hopelessness in his voice made her reconsider, made her sympathetic for a moment, and provoked her to get onto her feet and move toward the only thing blocking him out. The one thing she's hesitant to unseal.

Resting her hand on the wood, she bends to look into the peak hole. Standing near, he's drawing in breath quicker, and the tears pooled in his eyes made her will weaker and the desire to let him in stronger. But she knows better.

"Please, I can't live without you. Let me in..." he inhaled a choked sob, "I love you... I love you so much, it hurts."

"You know, I think you're cool... Cooler than me, at least." she laughed, chugging down her last portion of vanilla tea, and looked at the astonished man with smiling eyes. His freckled cheeks vaguely appeared red before the fluorescent lights, his mug in his hands held tighter while he gulped.

"Thanks, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, fondly staring at his beverage. Before lifting his gaze back up to see her walk into the kitchen, he kept his glass down and suddenly stood up. Followed in her trail and ended up behind her as she was calmly washing her cup.

Izuku didn't know where he found the intrepidity to finally wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin in the crook of her neck, something he's been wanting to do forever. She didn't seem all that stunned at first, she kept still and slowly turned around to face him. An unanswered question lingered in her head, her eyes questioning his abrupt change.

"I love you... so much..." he starts, staring into her and steadying his grip, the distance between them was little and he's never felt his heart racing so fast, he forgets what he set out to complete.

"I figured that much." she giggled but it wasn't her usual teasing one, this one had a sad tone, "I knew this was coming and I still wasn't prepared for it." she carried on, "I'm not ready to commit to a relationship, I'm far too avoidant for it. Plus, I'll only hurt you and that's what I've done so far so, I'm sorry to deny your feelings but, I can't do it."

She gently attempts to shake him off, but he doesn't let her and quickly stumbles to give a reason, "No! no, you are not, you've never hurt me and you and I know each other better than anyone else, I want to be a part of your life so please don't push me out after so long. We can try, can't we?" He brings her back close, sealing the gap so much so their nose touches.

"I know you better and no matter how much you try to cut me out, I'll keep coming back for you, I love you that much. I can't imagine being without you."

"No, we both know it's only going to hurt us so let's not get ahead of ourselves and stop, you have a life better worth spending on someone else, you know it, so let me go izuku," she argued and forcibly made her way out of his embrace.

"I want to spend it with you!!" he yells, in a frenzy corners her into a kitchen counter and the electronics fall out of place while the clean cup she had set down drops to the floor and into a handful of chunks. She looks at him and she's taken aback by the strength he used on her, laid down in an awkward position she whimpers and pushes her hand against his chest.

"I don't want to." she hisses, catching the man off-guard as he goes quiet with the realization. Hurt displayed in his leafy green eyes, she knew she hit a nerve.

"You can't cut me out of your life again, I won't let you..." it was sudden and raw, anger twisting his features into a person she's rarely seen, and the kiss had barely registered in her mind while she contemplates the unexpected change in the tides.

His scarred hand lowered down to her hip, while her futile attempts at throwing him off her seemed impossible. Suffocated by the kiss, she squirms in misery feeling his lips press down on hers and his body radiating heat that made it so much more unbearable.

She snakes her hand to claw into his arm but it didn't induce an expected reaction of pain, instead, he moaned, and took it as a sign to continue.

Certain the moment he leans back and disconnects their kiss, she'll scream.

He didn't want that.

Cupping her face, he muffles whatever struggling noise she makes, he sadly stares down at her face and gives her a reassuring smile, his right hand moving down to her warm spot, before slowly feeling her long skirt, and revealing the color of her panties.

"I promise I'll take care of you..." he whispers, snuggling closer to her body heat and caging her underneath him.

He seemed to blush with glee, while he unbuttons her green shirt and fests his eyes on the black bra perfectly fitting her chest, he slightly trembles as he traces his hand against her collarbone. His ear redden, and his stiff muscle loosened.

He chuckles, tears gathered in his eyes while he slopes his head down, "I love you... I love you so much, it almost hurts." he mutters against her skin, then looked up at her. "I want to be someone special to you."

"I just want you..."

The doorbell rings, piercing the stagnant air as izuku quickly drags his attention to the unwanted visitor, his hold on her face grew tight. This was her chance, but her silenced words could only be heard by izuku.

"Pizza delivery." shouted a monotone voice.

"Hello, ma'am?" he repeated four knocks. "I'll leave the pizza by the porch." he finished once no response came from anyone, and soon, she was left alone with him.

But the slight deviation was what she needed.

Grabbing the steel pencil holder, she banged it on his head and used her leg to give him one final shove to get him off her, immediately after making a mad dash to her room and closing the door in time. Not stopping there, she ran to her bathroom and locked herself in for what seemed like a day before he decided to leave.

Not after slamming into the door once or twice.

She remembers coming out of there, scared inside her own house while she checks every room and every hidden place to see if he had truly left, she locked herself in her house and hasn't decided to leave until he showed up again.

If he wanted to, he could burst through the door and get to her. But for however long it takes, she will not let him enter her life again.

#yandere imagines #yandere #yan yan #yandere drabble #yandere izuku midorya x reader #yandere izuku #yandere bnha x reader #yandere izuku x reader #bnha izuku #yandere midoriya izuku #yandere midoriya #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #mha yandere #yandere mha x reader #izuku #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #mha imagines #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x y/n

[blue-slxt]

Our Song Cord: What About The Way We Kiss The Same?

(Chapter 3)

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Welcome to the filth lol. I don't really have a whole lot to say about this chapter. It's just smut lol. I hope you enjoy! Every chapter title is a song reference so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Friends to Lovers, Smut, Heat Cycle, Masturbation, Oral (M receiving), P in V, Belly Bulge, Creampie, Knotting, I think that's it

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Your heat proves to be more than you're able to handle on your own. So you turn to the only person you can.

You get little to no sleep through your night. You’ve long abandoned your loincloth seeing as how you soaked through it hours ago. And now you have a huge wet spot on your sleep mat right under you. You’ve had short periods of reprieve where you took the chance to eat your utumauti and rest your eyes for as long as your body will allow. The herbs you got from Kiri aren’t working like they normally do. They usually let you get a couple of hours between the waves of desire, but now you’re lucky to get even one solid hour without needing to bury your fingers inside of yourself again. It’s so much worse this time and the intensity is only growing with the passing hours.

Before you know it, the whole day has dragged by in a hazy blur. The only thing you’re able to fully process is the deep, ravenous hunger inside of you that wants to rip through your body. It’s getting painful. You need something, anything to take away this agony. Your mind isn’t thinking clearly and you know that, yet, you can’t do anything to stop the ideas that start to seep in like a thick fog. It’s about dinner time and the whole clan should be gathered to start eating. You manage to pull on a new loincloth and weakly walk yourself out of your home.

You do your best to fly under the radar which is difficult with your pheromones assaulting the senses of every male Na’vi you pass. You decide it’s best to go through the trees to stay on the edge of the crowds. You climb up and cautiously jump from branch to branch moving in the same direction as the groups of people. When you reach the spot where everyone is gathered for dinner, you search and scan for Neteyam. You finally catch sight of him talking with Kiri, Lo’ak, and Layao. His arm is resting comfortably around her waist and his hand is sitting on her hip. It makes your body burn, but not in the good way.

You need to get his attention without attracting too much attention to yourself. If you get too close, everyone will smell you. But you can’t call out to him either. You have to think quick, time is ticking on your hormone clock. An idea pops in your mind, your signal. You and Neteyam would imitate an animal call to signal to each other when you needed to be discreet. It comes in handy when hunting or on missions. You cup your hands around your mouth and let off a high-pitched chirp in his direction. No one else even blinks brushing it off as a creature in the night, but Neteyam notices it. You can see how his eyes search around for the source of the call. While he’s scanning, you do it one more time and he finally starts looking up. His brows furrow together when he spots you. He doesn’t know why you’re hiding or why you needed to use your signal to get his attention, but he knows it must be something important.

You wave your hands and point in the direction behind you towards the shack hoping that he understands your message. He confirms by nodding his head one solid time at you and then he watches you disappear off into the trees. Neteyam politely excuses himself away from the group. He uses the excuse of forgetting that he was supposed to survey a part of the forest where a tip came in about some sky people. He reassured them that he’d be back soon and takes his leave. It was a believable enough excuse that no one questioned him about it and he was able to sneak away to come meet you by the shack.

Somehow through your lusty haze, you find your way to the old shack and nervously pace back and forth waiting for Neteyam to reach you. This is crazy. There’s no way he’ll agree to something like this. But then again, I mean, this is where this was always leading, isn’t it? Isn’t this just the natural progression of things? But he might reject you because of your heat. But now that you realize how you really feel about Neteyam, you don’t want it to be anyone else but him. All of these thoughts swirl around your head so much that they distract you from the sound of a twig snapping under the weight of an approaching Neteyam.

“Are you ok—” he cuts his own thought short as he gets closer and he smells the air around you. It smells like sweet sap from trees and exotic flowers. The smell tickles the back of his head and sends a shiver down his spine. And he realizes, “Your heat is here…”

You shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other hoping to try and create some kind of friction between your thighs and only offer him a nod as a response.

“Well, why aren’t you at home right now? Aren’t you supposed to be riding it out?” his face and voice are full of concern. For whatever reason that you won’t attempt to make sense of right now, that fact makes you hot.

“I—I can’t, Teyam. It’s so much worse this time. None of my usual stuff is working. I need your help. Please.”

“But, what am I supposed to do?” A pause as the question hangs between you while you wait for him to catch on. “I need you to help me, Teyam. Please.”

His face flushes and his ears stand straight up finally clicking it into place what you were asking for. “O-Oh…”

Seeing his face now, you’re starting to regret this decision. Your eyes start to dart around feeling very insecure. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I just figured that this was kind of where this whole thing was heading anyways. And I know that your ceremony is approaching so I kind of just figured the timing works out. But maybe this was silly. I just didn’t know who else to turn to and—” A pair of big hands on your face break your train of thought as your eyes find Neteyam’s. There’s a long moment where he just holds your gaze. Your tongue swipes across your bottom lip trying to add some kind of moisture back to your mouth that suddenly feels very dry. It’s probably because you didn’t even realize that you were panting at this point. Chills run through your veins as he stares at you. He finally leans in to kiss you and your body feels the first real wave of relief you’ve felt this whole time. It’s short lived though when he pulls away from you and your lips try to chase his to hold on the feeling. When your eyes flutter open to look at him, there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t fully comprehend its’ meaning right now, but none of that matters when he says, “I’ll do it.”

You could cry from happiness at his answer. You throw your arms around him and bury your face into his chest. “Thank you, Teyam. You really are the best there is.” And with that, you let your senses dissipate down to your bare bone, carnal instincts. Neteyam does his best to not show how flustered he actually feels. Especially once you start just subconsciously rubbing yourself against him. It feels like you need to drag every inch of your skin across his. He smells and feels so good. You just want to bathe yourself in this delectable smell. He clears his throat above you, “So, what do you need?”

Your hand automatically slides down his torso and past his tewng to grab his already stiff dick. You’re not sure which one of you shudders more at the contact. “Ahh…I need this.” Your free hand finds the knot keeping his loincloth around his hips and fumbles a bit at untying it, but you get it done. His dick springs up and slaps his stomach with a very audible thump. Your mouth is violently salivating while you drop to your knees in front of him. You can feel how your body is craving his. With no hesitation, you take him into your mouth and move your head at a steady pace.

When you look up at Neteyam, he can’t bring himself to hold your gaze for longer than a second. The sounds you’re making swallowing his dick are too much. You momentarily pop off him.

"You gonna fall in love with me, Teyam?" you say dragging the flat of your tongue up his full length and lightly sucking over his slit. Your tone is teasing not fully realizing just how loaded of a question that really was. You need his touch. Need to feel his hands on your body all over. You grab both of his wrists and guide his hands to rest on top of your head and use your fingers to urge him to take hold of your hair while you slide him back into your mouth. All the while, your eyes never leave his face. Watching his face contort with pleasure while you made him feel good was making electricity run up the back of your neck.

Neteyam’s perfectly polished self-control is gradually fading from his body when his hips start to buck forward into your awaiting mouth meeting your movements. You moan at the small tug of his fingers in your hair. Every push forces more of his length into your mouth until your nose is almost touching his pelvis. Your eyes roll feeling your slick pool in your tewng. Your pussy is getting needier with every suck and slurp. But you need to taste him. That sweet utumauti flavor. It’s a need you can feel deep in your bones.

His eyes close relishing in the feeling of his approaching orgasm. “Oh, Eywa, I’m close. Should I pull it out?” he tries to get the question out quickly before he can’t hold it back anymore. Much to Neteyam’s eye-rolling pleasure, you hum out ‘mm mm’ around him while gently shaking your head back and forth. “A-ah, if you…hng, do that…” his hips stutter in your mouth when his thick, hot seed shoots into the back of your mouth. His delicious flavor explodes over your tongue and it makes you feel like you could almost cum without even being touched yet.

A deep, guttural groan leaves his throat as you eagerly keep sucking his release out of him. You’re so desperate to get every last drop of him. So much so that he doesn’t even get the chance to get soft before he’s fully stiff again. He has to fully grab you by your hair and pull you off of him before you drive him to the point of overstimulation. You’re panting looking up at him. His eyes are soft, but the way his pupils have overtaken the color in his eyes tells you the truth of his desire.

Your fingers start to rub against your clothed cunt that was just begging for attention. “Please, Nete…I need you inside me…”

Self-restraint has now fully become a thing of the past. In fact, Neteyam was pretty sure in this moment that he didn’t even actually know what those words even meant. He couldn’t remember. They feel like a foreign concept in his mind right now. I mean, how could he possibly think about restraining himself when your voice is dripping with all the sweetness of a ripe yovo fruit calling out the name that he only liked to hear from your mouth? He didn’t stand a chance and you both knew it.

He crouches in front of you to capture your lips in another heated kiss. The taste of his mouth mixes with the taste of his cum still fresh on your tongue and it’s disorienting. He swallows the moans you let out against his lips. His hands fidget with the knot on your tewng until it finally falls from your hips. An absolutely shameless moan falls from your lips when his fingers come into contact with your core. He easily slips two fingers inside of you and, while it makes your hips jerk, it’s not enough, not tonight when you’re feeling needier than ever. It takes all your will power to pull your lips away from his so that you can lie on your back. Your hands push your top out of the way to expose your chest and you spread your legs for him.

Neteyam is left awestruck staring down your most intimate area. The way your skin is shining from being covered in your slick and the slightly pink color peeking between your royal blue skin. Not to mention the tanhì speckled around your mound and converge perfectly above your clit. It’s his first time seeing it so clearly and he can’t help but think how pretty you look. His tail excitedly thrashes behind him and he just feels stuck.

“Nete, don’t stare. It’s embarrassing.” Your hands cover your face hoping to hide the blush coloring your face. You don’t look at him yet, but you can hear him shuffle around in front of you. His body slides in between your still open legs and he uses one hand to move yours from in front of your face so that you have to look at him. His face is so close to yours and his eyes are peering down at your lips making you part them slightly. There’s so much you want to say to him, but the words never find you. They don’t feel like enough to fully convey what you feel so you let your body do all the talking for you.

Your arms fall around his neck and pull him back into a kiss. One of his hands stays planted next to your head to hold himself up while the other is softly gripping your hip. His tip is just barely brushing against your clit and it makes you whine helplessly as your hips rut up trying to meet him. You take it upon yourself to line him up with your entrance. His hips chase the warmth of your body and he pushes into you slowly. Your back jumps to arch up against him when the head pops in. The stretch is just on the very edge of being painful, but not quite all the way. Your face nuzzles into the crook of his neck as his arms come up to cradle around your head while he keeps slowly stroking his full length into you. Your nose lingers around his scent gland and you breathe in big, heady lung fulls of his scent. His lips kiss at your gland right below your ear and normally, this would be something you would both avoid, but your need is too great. You decide you'll deal with whatever the fallout is later, but for right now, you need to have him completely be yours.

When he bottoms out in you he just holds himself there letting you and him adjust to all the new sensations you’re both experiencing. He’s so big and deep in you that there’s a small bump protruding through your stomach almost reaching your navel. The pain is almost gone, but you can’t wait for it to fully subside.

“N-Need you to move, Nete.” Your hips are already grinding up into him searching for some kind of friction that can hopefully finally scratch that itch. When he slowly pulls out and pushes back in, you can feel how every inch drags perfectly against the spongey part of your walls sending you jolts of satisfaction. And now you question how you’ll ever survive another heat cycle without a partner to help you through it like this.

“Mm…Ahh. Faster. It’s okay.” You reassure him.

“Is this good?” he asks speeding up his pace. The lovestruck expression on his face is overwhelming while he makes you feel oh so fucking good.

Your pussy spasms and hugs tight around his cock that’s buried to the hilt inside of you. “Mhm! Ah, that’s good.” Somehow, you still want more. You don’t know how much closer you could get, but your skin is burning for more of his touch. You lead one of his hands to hold one of your breasts, “Touch me, Nete.”

It’s like your words flip some kind of switch for him. His fingers start to massage the soft skin under his touch. You watch the physical change on his face as his whole demeanor relaxes and he lets himself give in to his urges. His eyes are still soft on you, but the nerves are gone. There’s not a hint of hesitation left to be found. He starts to give you long, deep strokes filling the air with the loud squelching sounds of your pussy being stretched for the first time.

Neteyam’s voice drops to a low, hushed tone whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

“You feel so good, ma txe’lan. Oh, I want you so bad.” His pace gets faster as he speaks. You can hear his voice and you hear the words, but the meaning behind his words gets lost on the trip from his lips to your ears. The only thing you can think about is how he’s now fully pounding into your cervix and his sweet, sweet smell filling your dizzy head. Your hands claw at his back feeling the building tension in your core begin to tighten.

"Hng...you're taking me so well. Doing such a good job."

“Ah! Neteyam! Yes!” Your pussy clenches around every inch and ridge of his dick as he fills you making him suck in a sharp breath.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” You can feel the swell of his knot starting to come in at the base of his cock. Feeling the constant knock of it against you sends you into a purely instinct-driven frenzy.

“Aah! Haah! HaAH! Fuck, I’m going to cum!” your legs are starting to tremble around his waist signaling your impending release. “I need…need your knot.”

His eyebrows scrunch together feeling unsure. You notice the look on his face and place your hands on either side of his face before he can protest. “Please knot me, Nete. Ahhhh…I need it so bad. Pleeeeaaase.” Your begging is nothing short of pitiful, but for Neteyam, he’s never been more aroused in his life. How is he ever supposed to deny his most precious girl what she wants when she’s literally begging for it? He knows he can’t.

His arms wrap completely around your middle and hold you against his body, fully lifting you off the ground balancing your combined weight on his knees and his lips attack your exposed throat. “S-Shit, I’m gonna make sure you take it.”

His knot prods at your opening struggling to fit the extra size in. When you shift your hips under him and spread your thighs just a little bit wider, it pushes in with ease. The extra size makes you want to scream, but Neteyam’s lips find yours just in time to muffle the sound. It throws you into the deep end of your orgasm and he watches as you come undone in his arms. The continual rolling of his hips against yours gives him just what he needs to reach his own high as his cum spills directly into you. His fingers hold you with bruising strength feeling the most intense release he’s ever had.

It’s hot like fire inside of you, but it ironically puts out the flame of your heat. Stars spot your vision as you reach your peak and ride it out clenching around Neteyam’s intruding length. Your body goes limp in his hold, but he still keeps you close. When you both come down, you stare into each other’s eyes letting the reality settle in your minds.

Neteyam is the one to finally break the silence, “Um, w-was that good?” his voice is small and unsure.

“That was perfect, Teyam. Thank you.” A euphoric smile sits on your face feeling the blissed-out afterglow wash over you.

He tries to shift his hips back out of you, but you both quickly realize that that’s not an option just yet when you wince a little in pain.

“I don’t think I can pull out of you without hurting you.”

“Yea. I guess we’re stuck like this for a while.” You say while you both look down at where you were still connected. Neteyam pulls back so that he’s sitting upright and brings you with him so that you were now straddling his lap. Your mind still isn’t fully coherent as now, instead of your body seeking a heated, lustful touch, you now only wanted comfort and compassion. Seeking out that safety, you let yourself cuddle into Neteyam’s chest and your body purrs with content.

His hands rest on your back and draw little shapes into your skin with his fingertips. He tries to focus on not immediately getting hard again, which only halfway works, and watches the sky in contemplation about his life and what he truly wanted.

It feels like the longest time that you both just sit there physically tied together and feeling the nirvana of the skin-to-skin contact while you wait for his knot to go down enough for him to slide out of you. Even when it does and he pulls out, you still stay holding onto each other for a few more minutes, neither one of you really wanting to turn back to reality after the time-suspending experience you just shared.

When you both get dressed Neteyam offers to walk you back home in case you were still feeling disoriented from your heat, but you assure him that you are fine enough to make it home on your own. You remind him that he needs to get back to dinner before people start to come looking for him.

“Thank you, Teyam. For everything. You really saved me.” You say only half-joking. Even though you know that you would have survived your heat somehow, when you were in the thick of it, it didn’t feel that way.

“Who’s the mighty warrior? Come on, say it.” He teases his signature line with a lighthearted lilt to his voice and a playful smile. You lightly shove his shoulder and scrunch your nose at him. At the same time, your heart can’t help but sputter in your chest. You quickly, without thinking, press a kiss to his cheek and turn on your heels to run home. “Good night, Teyam!”

Neteyam stands frozen in place, stunned. His face flushed and his tail swayed wildly behind him. His chest squeezes with the thought, the hope, the hunch that maybe, just maybe…you loved him too.

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut #neteyam smut

[femsolid]

So the french police killed a teenage boy during a traffic stop. They asked for his identification papers and he refused to give it to them. They shot him in the head and he died on the spot. They later claimed that he was charging at them when they shot him, but someone recorded the scene on their phone and it showed no such thing.

This caused a lot of upset, especially in all the "sensitive" neighbourhoods where they pile the poorest people, typically people of colour, and where the police is known to be harassing and assaulting people a lot. Men and boys manifested their anger by rioting, burning cars and garbage bins or destroying and looting shops all around France. It isn't very smart as they are typically destroying their own neighbourhoods or their neighbours' property, who are just as poor as them. And who comes when that happens? The police.

The french police has built quite the reputation during the yellow vest protests, it's notorious for being the most violent, racist and sexist police in Europe. They typically use rubber bullets against protestors which are still dangerous weapons: they aren't supposed to be used at close range nor to be aimed at the head and obviously shouldn't be used on people who pose no threat. That's not what the police does with it of course, during the yellow vest protests we used to count how many people were loosing their eyes, some had their hands ripped off, and there were countless videos of policemen aiming at random protestors who weren't doing anything, and aiming at close range too. So what happened next should come as no surprise.

During the night of the riots a young man was shot in the thorax and died. Another lost an eye. More than 30 people have registered a complaint to the police of the police (not very efficient, as we've come to understand) for assault and injuries caused by the police during that night. But one specific case shocked the nation, that of a young man who was just passing by and was assaulted by the police, who didn't ask for any sort of identification and left him for dead. They took him to a back alley and beat him senseless, broke his jaw and shot him in the head. He lost a part of his head, literally, it had to be removed. He's now blind from one eye. They did this to a young woman during the yellow vest protests as well. She also was not a protester and was just passing by. In both cases the police is not looking to make an arrest, they are lashing out, like a rogue militia, and leaving the person for dead. It's up to us, the civilians, to help the dying person and call for an ambulance. The person is left with permanent disabilities and trauma. In fact, in recent years a lot of people have developped trauma reactions towards the police, some were first time protesters, peacefully marching on a sunday afternoon and did not expect to be charged by a mob of policemen, to be insulted, gased and shot at. The population's trust in the police has plumeted.

But in this case, one of the policemen involved in the assault was identified and is currently in jail pending investigation. As a result, the police, nationwide, is going on a strike. Yes, apparently when one of them is temporarily jailed for an obvious and extremely violent crime, they get outraged. Their unions called for a strike to show their support to their incarcerated colleague. Policemen support each others as they commit crimes, publicly, with the director of the police saying that a policeman's place is not in jail if he hasn't be trialed yet. Since policemen are not allowed to go on strikes, not legally, they went to the doctor and asked to be put on sick leave. It's not really a strike if you're still getting paid but they aren't used to protesting so we'll excuse them, maybe shoot them in the face to show them how it works? The police unions are asking the government to create a special status for police officers preventing them from being jailed while they are investigated for crimes committed while on duty. I guess they really think the law shouldn't apply to them. They also ask that policemen become anonymous, impossible to identify. Make it more obvious why don't you?

All the french racists are in full support of the police right now, saying that, yes, shooting "thugs" is totally acceptable (thug = arab = french guy with north african parents or grandparents). Someone on twitter counted how many men with arab names had been participating in the riots and thought he was making a point against immigration. But the fact that it's mostly black and brown people who are poor and live in ghettos says more about France than about "arabs".

Anyway that's the state of things in my country.

[devine-fem]

I wanted to talk about Damian’s sexuality.

That comes out weird, I know but this is prompted more so because I saw someone post about how he’s always been straight and op didn’t understand how people were so surprised when he started dating Nika. Then someone took a jab at Damijon + another person who said they didn’t understand the concept of Damian not understanding queerness.

I think that Damian doesn’t understand queerness but I’ll get into it toward the end of the post.

This will be put in two parts. One for Damian and how he feels about his sexuality and Damian’s internalized homophobia.

Let’s start with his canon love interest; Flatline. Flatline unlike his other attempted love interests was supposed to be taken seriously and didn’t suck. Compared to the others on this list, we should be rejoicing at Flatline.

Then this person used panels where it suggested that Damian had a sexual interest in a woman.

Almost every single person Damian has been interested in has been treated like a joke and not taken seriously. Some women are much too old for him and just awful picks.

Katana… why… stop please. Another example of them only doing it as a joke. This is so weird considering she’s much older.

Supergirl. Another joke. And much older.

Djinn… I don’t even know why…

Cassie Sandsmark… in a Earth, nice one Tom Taylor.

He has a couple more one off ones that weren’t taken seriously as well.

I know he got a cheek kiss from Emiko. He also dated Raven in an animation but I feel it was more a plot device. Also there are a lot of sexual jokes about Damian and I hate because he’s supposed to be ten by that time… there were some weird sexual impilcations when he teamed up with steph and I don’t know why writers do that instead of exploring the potential of their characters together and relationship…

Now let’s get into how Damian personally feels about his sexuality.

He jabs at romance and the concept of it a lot.

In Robin 2021 he also was very against romance but it was more as a way to sheild himself from his feelings. The only real confirmation that Damian is attracted to woman is Nika. So thank you, Nika. Anything other than that is just comphet to me at least.

This is also why he’s hc as Aro, Ace or Demi because he literally shows no interest in romance and the only times he does it feels like the writer has forgotten his personality.

TW: SEXUAL ASSAULT.

People don’t talk about that time Damian was kind of drugged/mind controlled and sexually assaulted… I’m not sure if people don’t perceive it that way but it seemed like SA to me.

She’s much older than him. He’s a ten year old. The way she’s speaking… her being naked. Damian telling her he doesn’t like it. Him not being in his right frame of mind… it reads this way to me.

Listen, I don’t understand how you can interpret Damian as any sexuality anyway when he’s so young. Only when he’s thirteen/fourteen can it truly be explored.

Although, Damian saying he won’t/can’t feel that way also proves my case.

He’s never really shown a whole bunch of interest in anyone.

—— End of trigger.

Now for the internalized homophobia.

So, the arguement is “he’s too smart not to know about queer culture…” What? What part of not knowing about queer culture makes you stupid?

Damian grew up in a very controlled environment where he was taught how to survive, taught how to lead and how to feel. What part of his schedule would fit in learning about queerness?

Internalized homophobia is in no way a bad thing and personally, as others do as well, see it as another way to queer code because its something a lot of queer people experience. This doesn’t negate the attraction to woman by the way but that doesn’t mean Damian can’t be interpreted as some other type of queer.

There’s also people who like to negate and ignore this part of Damian’s character but… why? These moments are part of important comics with his character. Damian was young and didn’t know much about well, anything. If you’re not personally queer yourself then you have no real incentive to learn about queerness.

There’s nothing really wrong with it. Even if Damian used gay as more of an insult. I doubt he knew what being queer was outside of “When boy likes boy.”

Also, he makes some comments often that come off… not the best.

I still really don’t think its bad and can be interesting if explored.

This also coupled with his culture shock, probably adds to his confusion on certain cultures.

I mean, he doesn’t know all that much. He’s not exactly mister super genius when it comes to real life things as well.

He doesn’t know what laffy taffy is… come on.

All this evidence doesn’t even matter anyway because it’s confirmed that when he does go to pride that knows literally nothing about it and has to be EXPLAINED by a friend about how it came about and how it works but people get so upset about that.

I don’t know what Damian’s sexuality could possibly be but I just don’t personally think he knows either and that has nothing to do with Damijon or any ship, but with canon.

I wanted to go more indepth to this but yeah, internalized homophobia Damian is very close to me.

#damian wayne #damian wayne meta #batfam #dc comics

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine the beast pirates learning you are a criminal mastermind

Kaido: *going over a cargo manifest* we will sell these in Port Chugal, prepare them for shipment.

King: Port Chugal won't buy pirate goods anymore, the world government found out they've been trading with us, so they replaced the king there.

Kaido: That's the third distribution market I've had to change in the last month. First the Bourgeois Kingdom, then Ballywood, and now Port Chugal. How are they finding my warehouses?

Queen: we don't know at the moment, but we're working on it

You: *King's assistant* I would like to point out something that all three have in common.

King: Silence.

Kaido: let em talk, I want to hear what they have to say.

You: they were all common stops on Captain Rondow's transport route, who was captured almost three months ago by the world government.

Kaido: You think the poor bastard broke under torture?

You: It appears so, and from the other reports we're getting I'm guessing they have figured out how you conduct your exportation operation. *Hands King the reports*

King: *Skims them* we spent years building this system.

You: which means building another will be faster this time. I'm guessing how they're locating our goods is by the fact that while it's labeled under a company that doesn't have any paperwork officially filed in countries we claim it's from.

Kaido: what are we supposed to do, get a business permit?

You: yes, but actually no. Now any new businesses from any nations in your territory will come under scrutiny by the world government. So I think we should find any failing, but long-established companies, and bail them out in exchange for slipping our illicit cargo into their product distribution.

King: that... might actually work, but there's no way we can guarantee their loyalty.

You: that's why you give them a small percentage of the profits and gather blackmail material. Most rich people are sick fucks will have skeletons in their closet, you just have to look for it.

Kaido: I'll entrust the task to you, and in the meantime we'll have Yamato fill in for you with King.

King: what! No! Your son is... not great at paperwork.

Kaido: Sorry bud, but I'd like to see what they can do on their own, so I'm setting them loose.

Returns from setting up the new network seven months later

Kaido: I just got the finance report for the last quarter

You: *literally just got off the boat* Sir?

King: Your network is more efficient than what we had set up.

Kaido: you're getting promoted, so you can manage it from here.

You: But I was really looking forward to working with King again.

Kaido: then you'll work under him not me.

You: I'm keeping my desk in your office.

King: For someone who ruthlessly castrated a man to get him to do what they wanted, you are very clingy and sentimental.

You: I was well within my rights to revoke that man's dick privilege, you had no idea how man people he's assaulted. I did that town a fucking favor by pickling that man's junk

Kaido: you pickled it!

You: Yes I did, how else, so you think I got an entire town to look the other way about our ships coming into the harbor?

Kaido: I never would have thought of that... You know when I met you I never would have guessed you'd be an asset to my operations. You seemed too soft and naive, too kind.

You: *shrugs* Well thank you for thinking I'm kind, but I just so happen to hate you less than the world government, and you have more money than the revolutionary army. And Lin Lin and her family freaks me out.

King: don't forget Akagami and Whitebeard won't hire you since you've worked with us.

You: *clicks your tongue* and I regret it every day.

Coming Soon

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #beast pirates #animal kingdom pirates #kaido #kaidou #king the conflagration #king the conflagration x reader #king the wildfire x reader #from the depths of the dragons hoard #tma original #4/2/23 #no beta we die like men

[waiting-makes-me-antsy]

Why the KOSA Bill Should Not Pass

tw: ab0rtion talk, assault mention, su1cide mention

also, credit to @the-realest-spot-conlon for getting this strike started. i've known about this bill for a while but until she talked about it, i hadn't really researched what this bill would have in store for the united states.

this will be a bit dark because this is sort of a speech against the KOSA bill and the bill basically wants to ban any talk of abortion, protesting and the LGBTQ+ community from kids under 16- WHICH the parents have no control over controlling what their child could see and the government would basically be saying:

"oh that's inappropriate" to say something like, idk, an inclusive video

and basically sort of brainwashing an entire generation

so yeah this will be a bit dark so don't read if you might be uncomfortable with the topics this sort of speech will have

(and this is directed at the government so when I say 'you' in the paragraphs it's towards the government)

[i removed the first part because it's a bit more personal and uh i dont think it should be shared here :sob]

And while it might seem a bit overexaggerated, it’s true. There are teenagers all over the united states, countries and the globe who face problems like these. And it’s not just verbal. No, there is physical violence and assault, hate crimes happening to students everywhere.

You might now be asking: “What does this have to do with the KOSA bill?”

I hate to say it but the internet has truly been my one and only friend I can ever count on. Who I always know has my back. The LGBTQ+ community doesn’t care if I’m not super skinny or if I have scars lining my arms. They support the fact I don’t really have any romantic feelings towards other people or really just romantic feelings in general. They make me feel normal. That it’s okay to not feel inclined to have and align with the normal gender rules. That I don’t have to follow the binary.

The internet is the only place I can analyze poetry and art deeply with different interpretations and analyzations of every single line, or every single stroke in a painting or word in a novel. Where I can freely talk about my new hyperfixation and no one will stare at me weirdly. Instead, they will respond with another essay.

They won’t say it’s “fucking sad” that I like to write essays in my free time- one of the only ways I can truly express myself because no one at school wants to hear me talk.

And it’s not just a safe place for me. No, it’s a place where everyone as a whole can express their rights and their thoughts. This is our future generation- our future leaders we’re talking about. If the only things that can make us realize what we need to change are censored, how will we ever be able to fix these problems that citizens make? 

Abortion laws. Yes I’m saying that. You want to censor any talk of abortion. What about all the innocent girls out there? Brutally assaulted and forced to ruin their career because they can’t get rid of a baby that’s not even developed yet. That doesn’t even have feelings or a brain yet. It’s just a tiny hint of life, not a fully classified human being yet. An embryo. And so now, they will have to face anxiety, depression, guilt, maybe even shame and ruin for the rest of their lives. 

They don’t have a free choice. But America is supposed to be freedom for the people! And here you are, taking away futures. Taking away future doctors, lawyers and even presidents. Just to save a cell inside their stomachs. Just to make them risk their lives giving a painful birth that will destroy their bodies. No brain, no feelings and no heartbeat. 

We need to know the wrongs in our world to stop them! To be able to protest against them! To be able to stand up for ourselves! So the older generations won't keep making votes that will ruin OUR futures.

Let’s look back at the first right for our states. Freedom of Speech. Huh, sound familiar to your bill? You want to take away protesting from the eyes of our future. From what can help them make the right decisions for our nation. So they can learn to lead. But no, you just want to raise mindless sheep that will bend to your will because they never had any exposure to what can help them break away. 

This bill will ruin lives. It will break apart the nation into pieces like a glass window broken by a bullet. Because if this bill passes, I bet you this: suicide rates will go up. Depression rates: up. Without the comfort of people who you actually connect to, isolation will take over your feelings and it just leads you into a downward spiral.

Imagine you’re a 13 year old who just watched their entire future torn to shreds by a bill signed. You just took their voice away. Their rights away. Possibly their entire life away. Consider that.

#KOSA newsies strike #fuck kosa #stop kosa #kosa bill #antsy whispers speaks

[gatheringbones]

there is considerable cultural pressure to ensure that I approach being a lesbian as a white woman lesbian.

some of my duties and responsibilities as a white woman lesbian are to define and impose and reinforce the binary of lesbian and not lesbian, just as I’m meant to define and reinforce the binaries of white and nonwhite, women and not women, threat and non threats, and so on. white woman cultural conditioning further positions me as a civilizer and teacher; I am meant to use those positions of power on those who betray or corrupt the binary. I am supposed to civilize them better, teach them better, parent them out of doing anything that weakens the binary.

there are duties I am meant to carry out as a white woman lesbian upon being confronted with a false lesbian. She (never he or they or zie or hir) must abide by the binary. She must have the genitals a lesbian is meant to have and she’s meant to call them very specific words. She must sleep with all the right people. She must relate to them in the exact right way. She must relate to the people who assault or rape her in exactly the right way. Her language must be pure, scientific, forthright, and describe her in totality. It must be very simple for Men to understand. She mustn’t be mad and said things that don’t tie to scientific reality in the way that mad people often say things. I might let any other mad person say whatever they wanted about their sexuality without question, but not lesbians, who must know better. There is nothing interesting or worthwhile to be gleaned from the ravings of a mad false lesbian, which is why they must be suppressed. nobody needs to hear that shit.

I must emphasize my white woman lesbian fragility when I teach, civilize, parent and correct false lesbians. I must remind everyone that the Men are always listening, always looming, and will tear into us like starving wolves the second they overhear a lesbian say something that makes them feel entitled to all of us. I must remind everyone of how powerful the Men are and how we can’t do anything to stop them and never have. I must position the mad false lesbian as a judas goat in our midst leading us to slaughter. I must position history in such a way that suggests that the only way lesbians have attained any degree of power and safety is by doing exactly what the Men want in exactly the way they are capable of understanding.

something dreadful and grotesque will take place if I don’t do this. the word lesbian will undergo a terrible degeneration/rebirth like the chernobyl elephant’s foot. I certainly mustn’t stand and watch to see where it goes from there. I mustn’t.

[konigsblog]

That mlmxreader blog also keeps claiming that you're sending your followers to go attack them and send death threats. They do a lot of arguing that your dark fic is not real dark fic and that you're purposely trying to trigger and retraumatise them - is what I gathered looking at a couple posts...

I think that for one, there are definitely writers who do romanticise some topics unhealthily with things such as rape/assault/torture, but I don't think you're one of those people? Like you frequently tag and keep stating that what you're writing is fiction, it's fantasy.

On that note, they keep trying to argue that CNC is the more "moral" kink to be writing vs. rape. I honestly think that rape fantasy is something people do fantasize about and can sometimes just not be CNC (bc they keep trying to pin it back to that kink). It's the fact that there's no established relationship and discussion like in most BDSM pairings where they talk about rape play. At the end of the day, you tag your works properly. I don't see much issue with writing what you want when you make sure to tag (which you do!) and are aware the subject you're writing about and its usual connotations (which you're also aware!). People can be mad and uncomfortable, but at the end of the day it's them who chose to keep talking about it. I think people need to get used to being uncomfortable on the internet. This is not a new concept and nobody here is a "hero" for anything.

Sorry I just paraphased some posts and asks with some of my own thoughts on it!

i mean, my content is supposed to be dark, it's dark content for a reason, and i'm not describing these characters to be standard; i'm writing them manipulative, vindictive, depraved, ect. i do appreciate you, anon, as you weren't rude, and instead polite. i appreciate it, my dear! 💗

i don't really care about this whole thing, but something i have never said was to send death threats. now, we don't know if they're lying – they could be – but, if they aren't, stop. i didn't tell anyone to send death threats, because i don't condone that. aside from death threats and mocking someone's trauma, i seriously don't care what you want to do. whether you don't block them, block them, whatever, they've made multiple posts directly insulting me in weird ass ways, so i couldn't really care about their immature opinion.

i'd like to point out something they said though, kinda funny, considering they've mentioned me multiple times outside of their callout post. they said they made ONE post about me with examples, that would be their callout post. but, they're not counting how they're talking about me in response to anons, or how they're mentioning me in their hashtags. it's childish. yes, you 100% have the right to not enjoy a certain kink/coping mechanism (because funnily enough, people use different ways to copes) but it's immature to name people, talk about how what i'm doing is "disgusting" or how i'm a "vile cretin" (like what lmfao 😭)

here's some screenshots of what i'm talking about when i say they've even insulted me, or made comments. this is 4/11 screenshots.

and comparing my supporters to an iof soldier... 😬 wtf is wrong with you? that's disgusting.

now, if anyone sends this to @mlmxreader, go ahead and let them know that they're not the centre of the world, them multiple posts taking about me and insulting me is immature on their end.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod fandom #cod #call of duty

[talisidekick]

The patriarchy isn't gendered in it's evil. It's a collaborative approach. It can't uphold itself if there aren't women and men supporting it's views.

We talk about toxic masculinity and the threats men pose with the power and privilege given to them under patriarchal systems, but what about the toxic femininity wielded by misogynistic women? What about the unique level of power the patriarchy gives to women who conform, and strips from women, men, non-binary, etc. who do not?

There's women who uphold the patriarchy, and they are the backbone to the whole structure. The validation and vindication to do the harm it does to others.

If you need a taste, take a look at how 'gender critical' and transphobic women justify why trans women aren't women. They use 'biological essentialism', the same ideology that gives patriarchal men the absolute ability to prey on women citing a biological need that absolves them of guilt and wrong doing, to paint transgender women as nothing but predatory men by matter of biology. That by being born sexually male, an AMAB person can never be a woman because they are bound exclusively by biological whims they cannot control that AFAB people do not have. They don't chastise cisgender men for this supposed biological difference, as if it's okay to have these supposed 'uncontrollable urges' being a cisgender man. They further back up this false claim by pointing to any behavior if transgender women that is loud, flashy, gaudy, dominant, etc. claiming that even identifying as women, we're unable to act like women, as if to say that being a woman is to act modest, quiet, submissive, etc. I remember not men, but women and mothers telling their children not to speak unless spoken to, not to complain, not to dress flashy, etc, to their daughters growing up. Never their sons.

Toxic femininity is real, it exists, and it supports the same system toxic masculinity does and I want to see crumble. I want a world filled with just as many loud, gaudy, flashy, and rebellious girls, women, enbies, etc. as I see men.

I need three things from the world:

I need cisgender women and men who are staunchly against the patriarchy to stop treating the transgender assault by 'gender criticals' as a "trans only issue".

I need people to recognize that men, cisgender and transgender, aren't an inherent enemy, which means learning to identify toxic masculinity from masculinity. Which is essentially learning that anytime masculinity or an aspect of it is framed as "above women" or "above other men", and "below women" or "below other men"; that it's the toxic kind of masculinity.

I need people to recognize women, cisgender and transgender, aren't the inherent victims, which means learning to identify toxic femininity from femininity. Which is essentially learning any time femininity or an aspect of it is framed as "below men" or "above other women", and "above men" or "below other women"; that it's the toxic kind of femininity.

Ending the binary gender hierarchy is how this system fails. Masculinity and femininity under a patriarchal system is oppressively wielded against women, men, those outside the gender binary, and those that exist within but don't conform, but masculinity and femininity are not it's tools. It appropriates them, and redefines them to hurt those it wants to force into a mold. It makes existing outside it's definitions painful where the easy salvation is conformity.

I propose a different tactic: rebellion.

#talisidekick things #talisidekick #trans #transgender #trans men #trans women #trans fem #trans masc #femininity #masculinity #end the patriarchy

[ih8simps]

My first post EVER;

The Runaway (Chrollo x reader)

The sound of the deep bass assaulted your ear drums as the lights around you flashed.

The room was filled with the smell of sweat and alcohol as the people around you continued to bump against one another. Your eyes swiveled around the room as you watched the sea of people all dancing to their own rhythms.

The music made you feel the need to continue dancing and the alcohol dancing around your bloodstream made you never want to stop. You continued to dance even when a red haired stranger came into your view. The moment his golden eyes locked onto yours, you knew he was trouble. From the bold red of his hair to the points on the tips of his shoes, you knew this guy was something peculiar. But by all means, you liked peculiar. As if drawn together by magnets you both met in the middle of the dance floor. You didn’t give him a chance to speak as you began to press your body against his. That smirk on his face grew into a Cheshire grin as you both danced to the music.

After a few songs you were still pressed against him and by now you could feel that he was certainly excited for you to be so close.

“Do I get to know your name now?” He spoke with his lips practically against your ear.

“You’re a pretty decent dancer. I’m having fun with you”. You turned away from him and rubbed your ass against his hard length. From what could be felt through your clothes, that would certainly be a sight to see. Your body hummed in delight at the thought. If only time and circumstance had been different.

In the rafters above the dancing bodies, the spiders were spinning a web. Phinks, Feitan, Pakunoda, Shalnark, Machi, Shizuku, Nobunaga, and their leader Chrollo were stationed in the upper level of the club watching those below. The spider was here for a job. There were some big fish that owned some shiny things that Chrollo wanted to steal. The owner of this club was a prolific businessman who was heavily into trade. He had a safe somewhere on this premises full of rare treasures. He used this club as a way to gather fellow traders and rare collectors without raising too much suspicion. To the authorities this just happened to be the place where rich traders and businessmen found themselves on Friday nights.

“Damn it. I wish I was a better dancer” Phinks practically whined.

“You are bad” Feitan spoke in his slow drawl. Phinks opened his mouth to yell out a retort but before he could Machi cut in.

“How you dance doesn’t matter. We aren’t here for dancing. We are scouting this place”

The spiders all had their eyes on a different target. They all knew who exactly they were supposed to be keeping their eyes on at all times but watching old men try to drunkenly dance or slobber on women was such boring work. It seemed that Shalnark had become bored quite a while ago as he was playing a game on his phone. Feitan flanked Phinks against the railing that looked over the crowd. Pakunoda sat on the sofa sipping a glass of vodka. Machi stood close to Chrollo as he stood with his back to the railing. Nobunaga begrudgingly stood close to Shizuku as she leaned over the railing to get a closer look at the crowd.

“I don’t know. Maybe Phinks is right. We should all learn how to dance. I mean look at Hisoka.”

The eyes of the spider searched the crowd for the eccentric red head. When they finally caught a glimpse of him, a hush fell over the group. Shizuku couldn’t understand the sudden silence.

“What’s wrong?”

“Is that-“ Phinks could hardly believe what he was seeing.

“(Y/n)” Machi whispered.

With the music still blaring, the lights still flashing absurdly, and the warm body of the man behind you still rubbing against you, you were in a form of chaotic bliss. For a brief moment you felt truly free. That feeling came to a screeching halt when a heavy coldness swept over you. It felt like a cloak of heavy darkness and filthy disgust. It seemed that the man behind you could feel it too as he suddenly stopped dancing. His eyes immediately swept the room before he looked up and directly at the source of the awful feeling. Your blood ran cold as you realized what you were looking at. The minute your eyes locked with his steel cold gaze, you realized you knew this feeling all too well. This was Chrollo’s bloodlust.

It had been years since you had seen him. Even from this far away you could tell that even in this sea of still dancing people he was looking directly at you. The intensity in his eyes made you believe he could probably see through you.

“No” you choked out.

The man behind you grabbed your arm, seemingly making the room grow even colder.

“How do you know each other?” You shook your head in response. Shock wouldn’t allow words to fall from your lips.

“How-“ the man opened his mouth to speak again but before he could you watched as the spider suddenly began its ascent down to the dance floor. One moment they were 40 feet away, the next moment you could feel them near inches away from you.

“(Y/n)” Feitan was the first to speak from his short distance away. “Why are you here?”

You ignored him as you began to count backwards from 10.

“What is she saying?” Shizuku could not understand what she was hearing.

“Grab her before she gets to-“

“One” you choked out. Just as you were about to disappear from the room you felt a brief pressure on the back of your neck. Before you lost consciousness you peered into a pair of familiar grey eyes.

“Chrollo” you whispered.

#chrollo x reader #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #yandere phantom troupe #x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter