#maybe I’ll respond directly to those people at some point

[queerbauten]

I love that people in my notes are calling Neil Gaiman a “random Jewish celebrity” that I’m baselessly attacking, as though: 1) “Israel has the right to exist” is not textbook Zionism; 2) he was not married to Amanda Palmer when she performed in Israel (in spite of calls for her not to do so); and, 3) he isn’t a wildly successful author and artist that this website worships

There are plenty of Jewish celebrities who give me no reason to think about their stance on Zionism! There are plenty of gentile celebrities who do! Get a grip!

#maybe I’ll respond directly to those people at some point #but right now I’m tired #Neil Gaiman #Amanda Palmer #Zionism is still Zionism if you’re not an extremist about it #antisemitism tw #text heavy

[thepenultimateword]

Skin Crawl

CW: Bugs, Bug horror, bullying

Hero scrubbed uselessly at the permanent marker, but even with the rubbing alcohol stinging their nose and their shoulders sore from vigor, an outline of obscenities stubbornly marred the top corner of the desk.

Hero sighed, leaning back on their heels. How did they even get roped into this? They’d only pointed out the spattering of language to their teacher so that they could punish those responsible. They hadn’t been volunteering to clean up the mess themselves. But the teacher had seemed so pleased with their willingness to help…how could they have refused?

They glanced to the back of the classroom where their dark haired classmate leaned way back in their seat, feet kicked up on their desk, book held open directly overhead.

“Are you…going to help?”

“Sure,” they waved without looking away from their page. “You can go if you want. I’ll do the rest.”

Hero straightened their aching back. “Will you?”

It came out a little snarkier than they’d intended, but Villain wasn’t exactly known for their work ethic. They were always coming to school late, staring off, or ignoring assignments. Unlike Hero, they hadn’t volunteered for classroom cleanup.

Villain cocked their head to the side, raising one dark brow. “How many times have you cleaned this classroom?”

“Well, just this once—“

“How many times have I cleaned this classroom?”

“How am I supposed to know? I don’t count all the times you mess around—“

“Oh yes, you do. You have that cute little book with all the tallies.”

Hero’s face burned.

But for some reason, Villain didn’t sound angry, just…making a point.

"Go on, open up to my page. Tell me how much experience I have staying after school."

Hero shouldered their backpack with a huff. "Ok, I get it. Just...make sure you drop the classroom key at the office when you're done. I don't want to lose the staff's trust because of you."

"Yes, master," Villain said and went back to their book.

Hero hesitated. Part of them still didn't trust their classmate to continue where they'd left off. Could this be a ruse to get them in trouble? Or maybe they just wanted Hero out of their hair and didn't care about the consequences.

Or maybe you need more faith in people.

Ugh. That was hard when everyone in this school had proven untrustworthy. Even the friends they'd made from the 'good crowd' hadn't lasted past the first month of the school year. None of them had what it took to stand up against immorality. They'd rather turn a blind eye and cut ties with anyone who might stir up the hornet's nest.

Whatever.

They grabbed their notebook off their desk and whisked out of the room. Now, what misdeeds had they borne witness to today? They flipped open to the middle of the boo; they might as well report these to the office before heading home.

11:45am--Caleb stuck gum on the inside of his desk sticking together the pages of the math textbook

11:50--Kayla texted in class for half an hour straight and did not complete any of her schoolwork.

12:30--An unknown underclassman with red hair shoved a smaller boy at lunch and took his place in line (please identify).

12:45--Taylor C. was making out with her boyfriend in front of the east stairs between classes, blocking off the way for anyone needing to use them. She also used some choice language against a well-meaning student who asked her to refrain until they left the grounds.

12:48--Victor verbally harassed an underclassman girl in the hallway despite her repeated refusals for acquaintanceship; he did not respond well to outside interven--

Hero's notebook hit the floor with a loud smack.

For a moment all they could do was stare at their empty hands in shock, then they lifted their gaze to the sneering, chiseled face in front of them.

"How many times did it make it into Book Golden Rule now?"

"Only once today, Victor," Hero said, bending for the book. Victor snatched it just before their fingers could brush the spine. At about the same moment, someone kicked them behind their right knee. Hard.

Hero gasped, collapsing onto the sneaker-smudged tile.

Victor flicked casually through the pages, stopping at his own tally sheet near the front. "Wow, my infraction rap is growing. You must be obsessed with me or something. Kinda gross but I guess you can't help it."

A chorus of laughter sounded over Hero's shoulder, and suddenly they were surrounded on all sides. They defiantly looked into the perpetrator's faces, memorizing identities: Caleb, Rick, Renna.

"Just give it back," Hero said dryly. "You're only making this worse on yourself."

Victor laughed now. "Really now? Your self-righteous ego is so big you still think you've got the upper hand here?"

"Not physically obviously, but anything you do to me, I'm just going to add it to my report."

Victor stared Hero dead in the eyes and slowly tore the notebook in half.

"I'm going to beat you so soundly, you won't even look at me without peeing yourself. You're going to look away from everything I do because all you'll remember is the pain of this moment.

"I'd never turn a blind eye for my own personal--"

The words scattered as Victor's fist met their mouth. Before they could recover he hit them again. And again. And again. A cleated food hit them from behind, sending a stab of electric agony up their spine. Dangerous. This wasn't just a scuffle. They wanted to seriously hurt them!

The next punch threw Hero on their back. They'd never been one for envy, but suddenly they wished they had one of those combat powers, super strength, invincible skin, knife fingers, anything actually useful for defeating evil!

Army boots smashed over their fingers.

Hero screamed.

"Shut them up!" Victor snarled.

Caleb's shaved head bent over them, and something knit and strongly scented of sweat was forced between their teeth and far enough in to make them gag. They spasmed but movement only made Caleb lean in harder. They couldn't breathe!

Where was the principal? Where were the teachers? Someone had to be hearing this? Someone here had to care?

The boots hit their ribs and tears gathered in their eyes.

"Aww, the wittle baby is cwying," Renna said. She balanced one foot on the center of Hero's chest and slowly leaned in her weight. "How does it feel when someone steps on you?"

Hero wanted to say that exposing someone for cheating wasn't crushing anything deserved, but there was too much sweater down their windpipe.

"Hey."

The group jolted and some of the wight lifted. Hero's vision was blurred, but between Victor and Rick's shoulders, they made out unkempt midnight hair and lanky limbs. Villain.

"If it isn't Psycho," Victor practically purred. "You want to get a few blows in too? Go nuts."

Hero's screaming insides twisted. They cared more about facts than rumors but they'd also never been this helpless in front of their dark classmate, as alone and outcast as they were but for totally different reasons. Villain supposedly had a penchant for macabre experimentation. Students said they had a devil in them. That they ate the raw innards of animals to feed it and placed curses on anyone who messed with them. There was even a rumor that they dissected a kid who made fun of them in class. Hero always found that one ridiculous, the student probably just moved away. But now, pinned and gagged and Villain getting closer they were having doubts.

Villain stopped directly in front of them. "Let the angel go."

Victor gaped for a moment. "Are you kidding? They write you up almost as much as me. You think all those after-school detentions come from thin air?"

Villain only slow blinked. "I'm giving you 5 seconds to get out of here before I do go psycho. Unlike angel, my problem-solving is more physical."

"Get out of here," Victor said waving Villlain away before back toward Hero, though the rest of his crew looked a little more nervous.

Villain shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Their mouth opened wide, cavernous. The inside might have actually been black for all Hero could see. Though something almost seemed...to move.

The first centipede dropped on Renna's boot.

"What the..." She kicked it off, lip curled in disgust. "Did you just throw--" As she turned back, she let out a splitting scream. Everyone whirled. Caleb lost his grip on the sweater gag, and Hero finally managed to roll to the side, coughing and spitting. When they raised their head again a mass of black centipedes scurried across the floor, swarming the group's shoes and wriggling up their legs. The great arthropods dropped in heavy droves from Villain's lips, some crawling down the sides of his face and neck in rapid desperation to get to the floor. Through it all Villain was still and unflinching though their eyes danced with dark amusement.

"You freak!" Victor shrieked slapping off bugs--all four perpetrators were already littered with angry bites. "You're possessed! You're--"

He cut off as a low buzz gathered in the back of Villain's throat, this time the bugs emerged as a cloud, a swarm of wasps, as black and large as the centipedes.

"Forget this!" Rick cried, taking off at top speed Renna and Caleb were close behind. Victor looked like he wanted to curse them out but all he managed was a rude hand gesture before taking off after his posse.

The centipedes followed in a dark wave, cutting a path on either side of Hero. Villain let them go, though a deep inhale sucked the wasp swarm, and a few stragglers on their shirt, back down.

Hero stared. Villain stared back. Hard black eyes evaluating. Hero's breath caught in their chest, which was probably for the best. It hurt to breathe right now.

“You know it’s being an insufferable goody two shoes that keeps getting you in trouble," Villain finally said.

Hero rose achily to their feet, brusquely wiping their face with a stifled sniffle. "Yeah, well...no one asked you." Tears threatened to spill full force over their lashes, so they began quickly gathering up the pages of their shredded notebook. "I'm going to have to add a tally for physical violence in school. I can't be biased."

Villain barked an incredulous laugh. "You're really something else, you know that?"

"And you have centipedes living in your stomach."

"Not sure if they actually live there, more like they materialize there when I want them."

"And how'd you figure that out?"

Villain smiled. "You mean you don't commonly dream of centipedes?"

Not really an answer but Hero snorted, catching themself with a wince on the wall as they did.

Slender fingers gripped their shoulders. "You should sit down."

Hero obeyed without argument. They probably looked completely pathetic right now. Tear stained, bruised, shaking. They'd always sworn it didn't matter how many people disliked them as long as they had their dignity. So much for that.

Hero ducked their head between their knees.

"Why'd you help me? Victor's right. I get you in trouble almost daily."

Villain slid down on the floor next to them. "Yeah. But being a massive pain in the butt doesn't mean you deserve to get beaten up. Besides, some of the things they do need to be exposed. And...it's impressive that you're not scared to do it."

Hero didn't fully know how to respond. That someone needed to care? That obviously when five students screaming at the top of their lungs didn't even crack a door there was a problem? Yes, they'd realized early on that putting things on paper was the best way to get results, but it wasn't like they were completely without ulterior motives either. Did choosing to confront the bad for self-serving motives make them any better than those who turned away? Villain had called them angel. But they were far from it.

"Is it a power?" Hero said, shoving away the thoughts and pointing at their mouth instead.

Villain nodded.

“Cool.” They couldn’t help the note of awe.

“Really?”

Hero looked them head on. “Yeah. I guess it’s unconventional, but you took on four people and won without moving an inch. That’s a real power.”

"You don't think it's disgusting?” For the first time Villain looked something close to vulnerable. Like Hero’s reply had thrown them off so much they’d forgotten their nonchalance. “It doesn’t make your skin crawl?"

"Not really." Hero looked up and down the vacant hallway. They wet their lips, took a deep breath, and shed their skin. They’d done it in the mirror enough times to know it was disturbing. It wasn’t the sort of shapeshifting that happened in glamorized movies. It was messy. Sometimes bloody if they went too fast. They looked at Villain with a mirror of their face. “That make your skin crawl?"

Villain grinned. "Not really."

A beat.

“So that’s how you get the dirt on so many people.”

Hero flushed and shed back into their own skin.“Most of the time yeah. They usually cover things up if they see me.”

Villain’s eyes roved them up down, hard and cutting and dark, like black diamonds. “Amazing.”

Hero shrugged, trying to pretend that gaze was not cutting them to the core. “It’s not a useful power. I connive against evil. I don’t beat it. After graduation I want to try for Allegiance Academy but…well you saw. What hero team would want someone who can’t even fight? Even with combat classes I’d never compare to the big powerhouses.”

Villain didn’t respond.

Great. Hero opened up to much. They’d gotten whiny with a practical stranger. They’d gotten Hero out is tight spot, not asked for their life’s dreams and woes

“Don’t hero teams need reconnaisance?” Villain said

Hero blinked. “I guess so.”

They’d never really thought about it before. That wasn’t the sort of role that showed up on the news. It wasn’t the thing that got peace prizes or admirers. But…maybe that was fine. They’d always craved power for the sake of being accepted into the academy and eventually chosen for a team, not for the sake of attention. Besides they were used to being alone; they were fine with it.

"Well, I better finish that cleaning," Villain said, pushing to their feet. "I wouldn't dare risk another infraction."

"Villain," Hero said before they got too far.

"Hm?"

"Thank you. For the help. You're...good."

Villain crooked a smile. "Never been called that before. Probably won't again. But I appreciate it."

With that, they were gone.

Perhaps Hero didn't need to be alone after all.

8 years later…

Hero straightened their silk tie in the rearview mirror, a silvery ribboned thing they normally wouldn't have gone for but couldn't say they disliked. Though maybe that was because it suited this face. Round, prim, pink-lipped, nothing like their own drab, haggard countenance. They swore each time they returned to their true skin it looked worse.

They quickly double-checked their current contours with the photo in their glove box. "So, this is our target's lover?"

"Remy Navarro," their earpiece crackled. "They've been together six months, and they are very involved in this villain's inside plans. We're thinking 24 hours tops before you come across something big."

Hero stepped out of the car and began weaving their way through the menagerie of fine-dressed gala members. "Ok, well you rushed me into this, anything else I should know before I find this criminal overlord?"

Their teammate hesitated at the other end of the line. "Just don't act surprised about the legs."

"Legs?" Hero said. "As in, they look weird?"

"As in. there are extras."

"Excuse me? I'm really beginning to think I didn't get a proper debrief."

"It was an unexpected opening. We had to take it. Anyways you're good at improvising."

Hero dodged around a cocktail tray. "I appreciate your faith in me, but I'm better at improvising when I've had a week to carefully study my subject's personality and mannerisms. I mean what is my personality? Are they an affectionate couple?"

Silence and then finally, "You'll be fine."

"Are you kidding me? Other Hero! Other Hero?"

They'd dropped the line, hadn't they? Hero sighed, stuffing the earpiece into their pocket. Sure, they'd do better without distractions, but this was verging on insanity. Other Hero had better gather more info on their new identity before tomorrow.

They stopped in front of an intricately carved set of double doors at the tops of the stairs. The private quarters of the newest villainous boss their team had begun tracking. The assignment was a rush job so all they had was a blueprint layout and the supposition that tonight's gala was prepared as a cover for something big.

They rapped quietly on the wood before immediately easing the door open. Lovers would be comfortable enough to do that, right?

A tall figure turned as they entered. Long midnight hair fell over dark-clad shoulders. Dark, hard eyes stared out of an even harder face. And yes, there were extra legs, though not the kind Hero had been expecting: they were black, rigid, clawed things sticking out from their sides, almost like those of an insect. Meanwhile, a pair of pitch-colored moth wings folded on their back, the tails gliding on the floor like drapery.

"Took you long enough," the villain said. A black centipede crawled down their cheek and settled like a parrot on the villain's shoulder.

Hero froze on the threshold, desperately trying to connect their dropped jaw back to their brain so they could snap it shut.

It had been years since they'd seen this dark figure; their jaw seemed even sharper, their lankiness had turned to elegant slenderness, and the bug parts were new, but Hero recognized them immediately.

Villain.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees-deactivated @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villany @distractedlydistracted @saspas-corner @echoednonny @perilous-dreamer @blood-enthusiast @randomfixation @alexkolax @pksnowie @blessupblessup @wolfeyedwitch @thedeepvoidinmyheart @cornflower-cowboy @bestblob @a-chaotic-gremlin @espresso-depresso-system @prompt-fills-and-writing-spills @paleassprince @takingawildbreath @yindo @psychiclibrariesquotestoad @harpycartoons @pickleking8 @urmyhopeeee @goldenflame2516 @tobeornottobeateacher @talesofurbania1 @sweetsigyn

#hero x villain #hero x villain sidekick #heroes and villains #creative writing #heroes and villains community #writing snippet #writblr #villain #shapeshifter #writing community #fiction #childhood friends

[3sn00]

attitude. bratty sub!sunoo, gender neutral!reader.

taking inspo from this tiktok ><

It’s been weeks since you’ve been very busy from work. It was one of those times that things to do were multiplying on their on, so the quality time that you shared with your boyfriend was shortening while the weeks passed. He didn’t complain a lot about it because he knew there were some months where you had a lot to do, but this time…it felt different to him. You only arrived home to sleep and eat when you woke up, which had your boyfriend feeling very much alone.

But finally those days of plenty of duties ended, and you even got a day off! Which you decided you would dedicate it to your boyfriend.

You arrived home that night happy to tell Sunoo that tomorrow you got a day off, you were excited to open the door and feel his body in a warm and tight hug like he always receives you, but that night was different.

“Sun…?” you said closing the door. You could tell he was there because the lights were on, but you were confused looking at this strange image in front of your eyes.

Sunoo was shirtless sitting in the sofa strongly focused on the TV, and that didn’t bother you because you thought he may haven’t heard you arriving home, so you went to him giving the boy a hug from behind while he was sitting.

“I’m home my love.” You said softly kissing his head.

“Good job today.” He said shortly.

You were confused at his reaction, when you realized he always welcome you with more energy than anyone. But you didn’t say anything, he may be tired too or have mood swings that could happen to anyone.

“I’ll go change.” You said softly again, going to your room to get comfortable clothes.

When you came back you saw a different image in front of yourself as the one you saw when you arrived. The TV was off this time, and Sunoo was laying down in the sofa with his phone in front of him?

“Taking shirtless pics?” You asked smiling sitting close to him in the sofa.

He didn’t answer; you thought maybe he was too focused in the looks of the pictures or something.

“Are they for me?~” You asked trying to get him to look at you.

“For a friend.” He responded coldly.

You were a little bit confused because he has never done this before, and in front of you.

“Do I know them?” You asked trying to not make a big deal of it.

“No you don’t.” He responded.

You guys were closed at the point of knowing each other friends very well, but again trying to not make a big deal of it you just thought it could maybe be a new friend.

“Do you send shirtless pictures to your friends now?” You asked him.

“Is there a problem?” He said smirking looking at his phone.

At this point you knew there was something off, you couldn’t stand this strange attitude of his anymore.

“Sun, is there something you want to tell me?”

“Is there something you, want to tell me Y/n?” He responded with the same tone as you.

You decided to play his game and got up going closer to him, getting closer to his face and holding up his phone.

“Why you are being such a slut for? You show other people shirtless pictures of you while you are in a relationship?” You asked him centimeters close to his face.

You had never used this kind of words with Sunoo; he had always been such a well-behaved boy with you that you didn’t have reasons to be tough or “mean” to him in any sexual way.

He looked directly into your eyes, with a look of his you have never seen before, it was almost like it wasn’t Sunoo. That look sent a shiver into your body, it turned you on so much the thought of ruin him at the moment.

“You finally pay me attention, huh?” Your boyfriend said looking directly at your eyes with his foxy gaze. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Don’t you have an idea?” He said in a mocking tone. “I almost thought I was your roommate instead of your boyfriend.”

You understood the situation at this point but you didn’t like the fact that he treated you like this.

“But was it necessary to ignore me like that? At least I deserve an apology.” You said without seriousness, you thought he would take it as sarcasm.

“Make me.” He said still looking at your eyes smirking.

You froze on the spot at his new way of talking to you. You never had to deal with this kind of behavior coming from Sunoo, so all you could think of is making him apologize just as he said.

You lifted your hand and pressed two fingers of yours in his mouth, thing that took by surprise but what really startled him was how you suddenly shoved them deeper into his mouth making him gag in response.

“Is this what it takes to tame you?” You said sticking out your fingers off his mouth while he was catching his breath.

“T-this is nothing for me.” he said while holding his neck.

You quickly decided to take off his pants, your action again taking him by surprise.

Just when you thought he couldn’t be any sluttier tonight you saw how he was wearing a pantie of yours. You were amazed at the view of his hard on waiting to escape from it to be touched.

“A pantie? Really?” You said chuckling at him.

He didn’t respond at the moment, but the next sound he did was a muffled squirm at the feel of you pinching his nipple and caressing with fast movements his hard on inside the pantie.

“Wouldn’t this be enough right baby?” You said with the intention of teasing him.

He was covering his mouth with his arm while holding hardly the couch with his other hand, poor baby was trying so hard to stay on character, but as always you found a way to make him feel amazing.

“Would it be enough if I free your dick hm?” You asked him slowly removing the fabric of the underwear down his legs.

After that you started stroking him, it wasn’t necessary the need of lube as he was covered in pre ejaculation. You kissed his lower belly, knowing is one of his sensitive spots.

At this point almost every part of his body was stimulated with your touch, your arms and mouth were busy trying to break him, and you knew it was working as you started to hear his moans and cries louder at your touch.

You lifted your head looking at him and said “Could this be enough?”

“Of c-cours— Fuck!- Not!”

You only smiled at his response.

You knew he started to feel his orgasm close because he started to lift his hips up and down, he was anxious to cum.

Between whimpers, you heard he cried out “Please kiss me!”

“Is that a command? Who do you think I am? You slut.” You said making fun of him.

“P-please Y/n! I want to feel your lips, please! I-i’m really sorry I swear!!” He said almost crying.

At this point you couldn’t resist anymore hearing him whimper like that, so you gave up and fulfilled his wish. It only took two seconds of you kissing his lips for him to cum in your hand lifting his hip and moaning into your mouth.

His huffs and deep breaths covered your face because you were very close to him. It took him some seconds to come into his senses again.

“May I have an explanation now?” You directed to him.

He looked at you with crystal eyes said “I’m so sorry Y/n, I know it was a childish behavior, but… I felt so alone these three weeks that thought you didn’t want my company anymore…”

You only softened your expression.

“Did I ever say with my words that something like that?” He shook his head in response.

“For both of us, these weeks have been very hard my love, so next time this happens, let’s just communicate what we feel instead of doing this tv drama shit that you did.” You said laughing.

He agreed laughing too. “And by the way I wasn’t taking pictures actually… And that attitude it was hard for me to pull off too!”

“Mhm? Is that so?”

“But was it sexy though? You said you wanted to try brat taming one day right!” Sunoo said as a joke.

“This isn’t about that right now!” You pinched his cheek and he chuckled in response. “Let’s go take a shower okay?” You said as you helped him stand up.

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

kinda trashy but i wanted to write smt about my pookie

#dom!reader #sub sunoo #sub enhypen #sunoo smut #sub!idol #love his black hair back

[betbeton]

✃ Let Sleeping Dogs Die

Derek Goffard × Reader

Warnings - All Derek Route Warnings (From the Game) can be Applied

18 + Minors DNI

·GN Reader·

·A/N- might make a part two, though this feels sorta like rambling in fic form. Hopefully it's not bad·

Other Versions

Lawrence · Strade · Mason -WIP

・❥・ Masterlist

The hot sand stung your feet as you padded behind the bottle blonde who called himself your owner, the choke collar that hung loosely around your neck a not so gentle reminder that thankfully you weren't the poor sods being hunted. Even if the pats to your head and condescending words thrown your way were infuriating there wasn’t anything you could do aside from force your tail to smack against the sand like a damn dog. Though with as angry as the situation made you this was your lot in life, a pet. Sold to the highest bidder several years ago by someone you used to view as a friend, mentor, the damn bastard waited till another monster came in to replace you. After all those years with you and teaching you how to navigate the world as a beast of a person he sold you to some damn bastard who gifted you to his son. A prize for his twenty fifth birthday. That was how you became a possession of Derek Goffard, a violent bastard with too much money at his disposal. At first he used you as a stress reliever when he was upset or angry, beating you to the point of near death day after day, but the worst had been yet to come. The first year he had taken you to the desert trip he had been excited for was absolute hell, first you had been abused in more ways than you had imagined, all physically and mentally taxing. The only consolation to have been had Derek didn’t allow the older man named Jack to force himself on you, Derek stating he didn’t want to deal with the aftermath of such abuse. After all what fun is a broken toy?

The cool metal links that made up your collar sinking into your neck and cutting off your air flow jerked you out of your head. Ears flattening to your head as you tucked your curled tail between your legs earning a cackle from your tormentor. Head jerking harshly backwards as Derek yanked on your half folded ear you allowed him to direct your gaze towards the people sat tied on the ground. Four people in total an older man with a black eye and three people who seemed to be near Derek’s age. One was a sobbing woman with blonde hair sat beside a man who was also sobbing, but unlike her he wasn’t nervously darting his gaze from person to person. The last person was Derek’s offering, poor sap had thought the person purchasing them wanted to go camping. What they lacked in the sense department they made up for with determination, if the angry glint in their eye was anything to go off of. You were so focused taking in the captives appearances that you didn’t register what Derek was yelling at you until he shoved your head into the sobbing girl’s chest, when had he dragged you over to them?

Any thoughts you had brewing were forced from your head when Derek left you after shoving you into the poor woman’s breasts like someone would a naughty puppy with its own piss. Tugging your face away from the sobbing woman you couldn’t help but to feel pity for her as you leaned in once more taking a deep inhale of her scent, sweat and something sweet peaches or maybe a flower you couldn’t pin point it. Repeating your actions you worked your way down the line until you came face to face with Derek’s offering. The intensity in their eyes had an itch at the back of you head urging you to cower away and whimper to show them you didn’t want conflict, though as you leaned in to sniff at them they spoke. The words were spoken directly into your one upright ear causing it to twitch as you listened.

“I’ll free you if you help me.”

They weren’t the first person to try and get your help, but something in their voice had your tail lightly swishing in anticipation. Sadly before you could respond the sound of someone screaming met your ears at the same time as the acidic smell of cigarettes and cheap cologne assaulted your nose, which had you reeling back away from the dead meat. Scrambling you slipped several times before coming to squat behind the closest people, the cultist creeps who called themselves Komodo and Dragon. Peaking out from behind the larger of the duo’s legs you watched as Jack dropped an irate woman onto the sand before directing his gaze to the group. A harsh whistle had you standing and taking a walk of shame back behind Derek, his hand reaching back to clip the leash back to your collar. After a brief squabble over who to use as first blood Derek dropped your leash as you struggled to suppress a whimper while you watched them drag the poor sobbing blonde woman away from the other captives, a pair of hands grasping your ears as they rubbed at them dragged your attention elsewhere. Despite finding them just as terrifying you were grateful for Komodo and Dragon’s fascination with you. They always seemed to demand your attention during first blood, at least when it was there one of their victims, almost as if irritating Derek by touching you was their revenge. Though it all came to a halt, the cold fingers rubbing your ears and the screaming, the later ceasing had your eyes darting over just in time to see Derek stomping over to grab your leash and tug you back behind him. Eyes watery as you were choked by your chain you could barely see what direction the captives ran off in. Though you were left to choke and gasp for air as Derek rummaged in his pocket snapping a tracker to your choke chain, the bastard smacked your legs with his bat when you were free of your leash yelling at you to sit in camp and be a good dog. 

Sadly some part of your mutt genes was fiercely loyal to Derek. How you wished you could will your feet the other direction, or maybe even sink your teeth into his throat or better yet rip out his intestines and devour them as he laid screaming on the sand gasping for mercy like all the victims he murdered.

You didn’t do any of that instead you obeyed like a good little dog, sitting down in the sand beside Derek’s bag guarding the camp as Jack liked to say. You weren’t guarding anything in truth if one of those poor sods approached camp while you were its sole inhabitant you wouldn’t stop them from pilfering it for food or water. Even if you were a dumb dog you still knew well enough someone would have to crave death to approach the camp, despite you knowing this it didn’t stop you from craving Derek’s hostage or better yet that strong looking woman Jack brought would show up. Even as Jack grabbed you collar yanking you towards one of the folding seats, mashing you head into the sand as he sat down on it only to laugh when you sputtered out grains of sand the dumb dog side of your brain held out hope someone anyone would murder these monsters.

When your hair was grabbed and you were forced face first into the older man’s crotch you fought the urge to sink your teeth into his cock as it harshly pressed into your mouth, resisted the urge to maim and kill the man before you as his erection sat heavily on your tongue. Though some idiot answered your prayers as you heard footsteps approaching the shit hole they called camp, Jack stood abruptly with a bitter laugh as he shoved you into the sand and took off after what you assumed was his captive. 

Crawling back to Derek’s bag you laid in the sun sleeping for several hours until the light grew low and the air started to chill, your que to wake and find your owner to help him with a final hunt for the day. Though as you stood up from the sand dusting off you legs you made eye contact with Derek's victim, dried blood smeared on their bottom lip and the metallic smell following them a clear indication they had an encounter with one of those bastards. Though when they rushed towards you hands grasping at your collar you panicked, clawed hand slashing at them only to stop short when the chain was lifted above your head and tossed to the ground. Even if it was just a simple loop of metal it still felt as if the weight of the world was lifted from your shoulders. As they grabbed the loose fabric of your top you couldn't deny their silent urging to follow them. On their heels you ran after them, it was all a blur even when they said you were safe to wait out the night in some dank cave you still didn't quite comprehend what was happening. Until the next day you had sat by the door like a statue, ears erect and tail stiff waiting for the final boot to drop.

At around midday was when you decided to wonder out of the cave, scrambling down the loose rocky earth to the harsh desert below. Your bare feet sinking into the hot sand as you wondered head tilted towards the earth sniffing for any traces of your bastards owner's scent. The wait wasn't long, just as you had caught the scent of something decaying the noise of a vehicle nearing startled you. Standing stock still your flight or fight response didn't register, you knew that running and hiding was your best option but you couldn't will you legs to move from their spot sinking into the blistering sand.

Head dipping down as you waited for the inevitable. And when it came in the form of a bat harshly smacking into your chest there was no resistance from your body as you buckled and landed in the sand. Mouth and nose inhaling a concerning amount of grit as you wildly thrashed once on the ground, though the thrashing and scrambling to gain purchase with your clawed hands and feet didn't last long. The tap of a bat against your back had you freezing yet again curled tail shifting to try and tuck between your legs as best it could as your terrified form laid trembling on the sand. The cackle that met you ears as you were smacked in the back of the head with that damned bat, the impact caused pain to bloom on the back of your skull eyes squinting as black spots sparked across your vision. Ears ringing as you tried desperately to comprehend and absorb what you tormentor was saying.

“Listen, I would hate to have to kill my favourite puppy. So why don’t you make it up to me?” Derek tapped at your spine harshly with his bat as he spoke.

Curling into yourself your mind disassociated, it felt as if you were floating far away from this situation. Even further away more like the past, before you had been thrust into this world of torment. Even before you met that fox bastard. Back when you were just you, a simple puppy of a person who only knew borderline suffocating joy and the normalcy of pretending to be human. That's all it was in the end even now as you were treated as a pet you still would pretend to be human when Derek brought you in public, when he paraded around like he was hot shit. Though that damned bat smacking against your spine had you rocketing back to reality, the old you who was happy and content a distant fading memory. What wasn't a fading memory though was the laboured and fearful breathing your ears had picked up. Part of you had thought that, when you first encountered the monster, catching the scent of Derek's victim had been a trick of boarder line heatstroke. It would seem you had been wrong. Very wrong. As you heard them level their breathing and stand was the moment you struck as Derek's focus shifted to his preferred victim of the moment you shakily hoisted yourself up to your feet once more. Looming beside Derek you could see the momentary fear that flashed in the eyes of his victim as they thought you might betray them.

It was absurd really. You had no loyalty to anyone. Not even yourself, you would gladly sell your soul to be free of this man. But the damn idiot dog side of your brain had you longing for the damn dead meat to reassure you, for them to say everything would be alright. It irritated you and grated at your already frayed nerves. However you didn't direct any anger at them it was all reserved for Derek.

You had turned to face him just as he had reached out to grab the back of your neck. In his arrogant and distracted state you took the moment to strike. Launching yourself at him pinning him beneath your body as he hollered and struck you. Still your didn't let up, leaning down and sinking your teeth into his neck in a panicked state of your own. The metallic twinge of blood flooding your mouth had you gagging as your head thrashed from side to side, much like a dog tearing apart a toy. The sickening gurgle of your tormentor trying to order you off of him and yelling most likely obscenities at you and the world had you clamping your jaw tighter. It was perversely invigorating to steal the life away from someone who regularly made you eat corpses on these damned yearly trips, or worse if he was feeling ... particular that day.

It felt like forever of you thrashing your head and wrenching his most likely shredded esophagus from his throat, but a set of hands grabbing at your thin shirt had you reeling back. Momentarily forgetting it was Derek you had been mutilating and not some poor sap who he had purchased. Whipping around with your ears perked relief flooded your body as you came face to face with Derek's victim. Their shaking hands frantically grabbing at your face as they tucked a finger into your bloody mouth to make sure you were unharmed. The anger and borderline blood lust you had felt mere moments ago was still very present at the forefront of your mind as you snapped at their hand, sharp teeth sinking into the meat of it in warning.

Instead of treating you with anger or annoyance they backed off which left you reeling almost craving they had struck you... If only to feel the sense of normalcy being reprimanded and punished provided. Even if they did respect your boundary they still kept a hand on your body to try and sooth you, the now bloodied hand that you had attacked. They gently rubbed at your ears cooing out genuine words, that you were safe and everything would be okay. You knew they were wrong, Jack and Machete were still out there somewhere. Plotting on how to catch and mutilate the victims who remained, but when the heat had cooled down and you sat with everyone actually engaging in conversation the topic of murdering Jack came up. And it left you hopeful, even if your face was practically cacked with Derek's blood and you had secretly gone back several times that day to mutilate his corpse beyond recognition you were still excited to finally taste freedom.

#tpof x reader #derek goffard #derek tpof #tpof #the price of flesh

[gendercensus]

On why I cannot categorise identity checkboxes in the annual survey

@iamthelowercase reblogged the post Shaking up the checkbox system with some comments, and I do want to respond, but this is a can of worms, and my original post is so long that reblogging it is a bit impractical! So, I’ll make a new post instead.

~

The first thing is that based on the chart you shared with this post, demigender has kind of a spoiler effect. It falls very low in the checkbox effect change, but very high in the percentage of responses – clearly that mattered to a good number of people.

So my intuition is that demigender should stay in the list, even though it looks to me like it has a low “checkbox effect” number. But I’m also working from incomplete data there. Maybe if I looked at the charts summarizing all the data from several years, I’d find that it’s not significant anymore.

I wouldn’t feel comfortable making an exception for one term and keeping it in the list based on statistics that are six years old.

The whole point of having a rule, after all, is to avoid bias by treating some terms differently. If I’m going to make exceptions for terms, I need to have a truly spectacular, undeniable reason to do so - and I do make exceptions, and it’s usually unrelated to the popularity of the terms. As examples, the two terms that have to be in the list no matter what are not actually genders at all - they’re “I don’t describe my gender” and “questioning/unknown”. Basically, every question needs to have “none of the above” and “unknown” answer options!

Plus, I’m not sure but I suspect that the pre-checkbox % is so high for that one because I had only just learned a really good way to start counting textbox entries with inconsistent characters. 2015 was only the second ever gender census survey, after all. It’s probably possible to go back to the 2013 data with the skills I have now and investigate to find out if demigender should have been added to the checkbox list sooner, but that sounds exhausting and back then the sample size was much smaller. (2,000 responses! Adorable.)

~

The second thing is, have you given any thought to weighting the checkboxes towards “umbrella” terms. Like having a checkbox for “trans”/“trans*” but not “trans man” or “trans woman”, or for “demigender” but not for “demiboy” or “demigirl”.

I had this gut reaction “OH NO” recoil to the idea of me weighting checkboxes, oh my goodness. I will now write way too many words explaining why. :D

That would put me in the position of having to choose which terms are umbrella terms, which I can’t really do. When I say I can’t do it, I mean in a practical sense, but also in an... ethical sense? It’s hard to describe, so I’ll waffle about it in the hope that my intent becomes clearer.

Practical: As an example, on simple forms I’ll say my gender is nonbinary, because it’s easier and most people know what that means, and in my case I would consider that an umbrella term. But that implies that I have a gender, right? I actually feel that I don’t have a gender at all, and I call that “agender” because that’s the first word I bumped into that means “doesn’t have a gender”. But some agender people recognise that they [do/want to] move through the world as men, and call themselves “agender men”. Is agender an umbrella term or not? Some nonbinary people only call themselves nonbinary, and feel that that is a word that directly describes their gender. Is nonbinary an umbrella term or not?

Ethical (?): I am in the business of documenting and counting identity terms for people’s experiences of their own genders and the way they would like to be described (and rambling about their popularity), but if I start categorising those terms I am veering dangerously into the realm of determining/ascribing meaning, which is a very different thing entirely and therefore outside of the scope of the survey.

If I did decide to start categorising identity terms by meaning and having a section for umbrella terms, how would I do that? As we see in the practical section above, it’s not necessarily clear-cut or, ha, binary.

Judgement call. In the “cheap/fast/good” triangle of which you can only have two, this is cheap and fast, but not good. I could eyeball it based on my own personal experience, which I try to avoid doing because I have a limited perspective and I frequently make assumptions that are incorrect. (See the recent polls I ran on Twitter that completely decimated my iron-clad knowledge that butch and femme are obviously and universally opposites of each other and anyone who thinks of those terms in another way is wrong!)

Decision based on statistics. In the “cheap/fast/good” triangle of which you can only have two, this is somehow only good, because it is neither cheap (in energy expenditure) nor fast. I could run a special survey - and I would have to do it every year because meaning changes over time - that determines whether or not each term that made the list is an umbrella term, and choose an arbitrary line to divide terms into Umbrella and Not Umbrella, based on the results of that special survey. First of all that sounds exhausting, but second, how would that survey be designed in such a way that participants were not accidentally led by the design? How should I word the question? “Is this an umbrella term” is leading, so “choose the statement that is most true from the following options” is preferable, but what should the radio button for Not Umbrella be called? Because “Not Umbrella” is also leading. And I’d need to include an “it depends” option because it does depend on the context - and what if 95% of respondents choose “it depends”? Would I then need three categories of terms in the survey? And this is only the start of the design questions, I’m sure I would run into many more.

As you can see, I have learned that the researcher’s responsibility and work to remove their own ego from the research is never-ending!

And then, on choosing which words to remove:

having a checkbox ... for “demigender” but not for “demiboy” or “demigirl”

When I do stuff like that, people say things like “I’m a demiboy but not demigender” etc. in textboxes so much that it affects the quality of the data very badly. (E.g. I had to separate “man/boy” into “man” and “boy” because so many people ignored the “man/boy” checkbox and typed in a unique way of saying “I’m a boy but not a man actually” and that, like, broke the data.)

The reason words are added to the checkbox list is because people need to check the box! People have painstakingly typed in words that fit them even though there is a checkbox in the list that already sort of almost fits, and when 1% of people do that it’s kind of a big deal. Arbitrarily removing words that already have close-ish meanings in the checkbox list is shaped by my own perception of the meanings of those words, and that’s me wayyyy overstepping. In the past when I’ve done it I thought I was making an obvious choice using common sense, but it turns out that’s not universal, which was a humbling experience.

~

This has been a ramble, but I hope it helps you and others understand my motivations and responsibilities, and I hope it is interesting or thought-provoking or something! Also, I’ve had a lot of suggestions in the consultation and in the ask box about categorising words to make them easier to go through, and it’s a much bigger explanation/topic than most people realise, so I think a response to those was a good idea so that I can refer back to it later.

#meta #identity #meaning #lexicography #iamthelowercase #just in case iamthelowercase is tracking the tag of their username?? #i find Tumblr username tag notifications to be very unreliable so

[shirefantasies]

Hello! I’m new to Tumblr, your blog was one of the first I found and followed! I was wondering if you could match/ship/pair me with an LotR character! Specifically LotR if you end up getting around to me, please!

I’m 5’3” with dark hair, though I keep it shaven in a buzz cut style. I’m pansexual, so you can ship me with anyone. I’m also autistic and possibly ADHD and OCD. Still learning about myself and trying to get diagnoses and people that understand me.

Moving on! I’m rather goofy! I’ve got a silly, meme-like side to me that I have trouble restraining. I’ll constantly see references to memes/obscure things I like everywhere and always point them out. I also make random noises and jokes that only those close to me will understand or be able to interpret the meaning of. I’m a good listener, and always try to help solve problems, though I may not be too good at getting the end result where it needs to be. Hahaha! I like to cuddle people, though I’m a little picky with touch because of sensory issues.

As for the other side of me, I am very paranoid, and have anxiety, severe depression, and PTSD, so it’s hard for me to trust people. I’m introverted, too. I always have been but ever since the trauma that caused my mental health issues I’ve become extremely introverted, almost in a comical way. I have some self-hate based behaviors towards myself that I’m working on unlearning. I constantly need reminded to take care of myself, and will have unexpected breakdowns, depression lows, or flashbacks. There are things or actions that will upset/trigger me that may need to be avoided. It’s rough but I still try my best to please everyone.

I hope that’s enough, if it’s not you can always contact me directly for more info or with questions! Thanks for considering!

Well that’s such an honor! Glad to be an early addition to your tumblr family 🥰 heck yeah you can have a lord of the rings character, and I hope you like being a hobbit because because I ship you with…

Pippin!

Sometimes it feels like no one understands him. So when Pippin hears tales of some far-off hermit, he feels a strange kinship with them immediately knowing only that they are the subject of talk, too. Maybe they’ve disappointed people with ways they cannot help, too. Pippin, though, could never run away from people- he loves them too much, enough to try again and again until he gets it right. He doesn’t know why he is the way he is, after all. He just is. Isn't everybody?

He gets lost one day, lost further out in the edges of the hills then he's been yet. Not quite far enough to be frightened, but just enough to see the waning of the hobbit-holes and the thinning of the Shire's green hills. It isn't until the sun descends that he truly gets concerned, rushing to the nearest hole he finds and ringing the bell dangling by its big round door. You answer, looking quite puzzled and not entirely unafraid of the stranger before you. What do you say? "Er, can I help you?" "Well," he begins, "I'm lost, you see. Can I trouble you to stay the night before I return to the road?" Silence overtakes you, ponderance, glances this way and that, before you finally nod and bid him entry. "You've not come to report to the others, have you now?" "I beg your pardon?" "Back in town. All the rumors. Part of why I avoid it, not that it helps them," you shake your head. That is when Pippin realizes he's found his kindred hermit, and you are nothing like he imagined. Contrary to the stories, he thinks there's something about you that looks...friendly.

"You're the-!" Barely resisting the urge to exclaim 'hermit', Pippin glances around your mostly quite normal hobbit hole. "Erm, I always wondered why they told all those stories." "Because they're a fat lot of gossips, that's why," you shoot back, shuffling through your kitchen, "they aren't exactly the champions of anyone who's...different." "That I know," Pippin responds with a nod, voice going a bit quiet. His words have you turning around, peering at him like you've only just seen him. "I see. Well, want anything?" In the end, you share some of your dinner with this stranger, who tells you his name is Peregrin Took, more frequently called Pippin. Pippin doesn't mock the sounds you make, in fact you notice that he seems to find himself mimicking them. As you go through the evening's motions, he doesn't seem to mind that you have your way of doing things. When something you see reminds you of a song you made up, you can't help but sing it, and soon Pippin is joining along. You even make up a song together. When he leaves, you find yourself saying something very uncharacteristic: "If you ever want to come back, well, I'll be here." Something in his smile, the way he nods, has you feeling strangely hopeful.

Come back he does, and sing more songs to and with you in that beautiful voice he does. You're ready for him to recoil, to pack up and leave you behind like everyone else does when he catches a nightmare turning to a breakdown, but as he peers in the doorway he simply asks if he can touch you, hold your hand or even you. When he stays, helps you with breakfast and cheers at your smile, twirling you across the kitchen, well, you can't help feeling a rare peace at your little paradise getting a bit bigger.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @kilibaggins @joonies-word @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin | Reply/Ask/Message to join 🥰

#lord of the rings #lotr #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #lotr matchups #pippin #pippin x reader #ask #autisticgenderworm #requested #matchup monday

[munv]

So, this is gonna be a long one Gang😞🙏🏿 get a snack or something caus ya girl is going all out.

So i met him 2 years ago or so right, in school, but the thing is i got his number and discord and we started talkin right

Pretty normal. But we like fell off and stopped talking the next year

So

Last year was it he found my tiktok (probably through contacts if you know the settings) and he started liking and reposting every video from my account.

So I reposted, he reposted

If I liked it, he would like it. And at some point it went to him tryna @ me in videos

But let me describe his character first. Glasses, tall from my point of view (I just reached 5 feet despite my big age,) and he’s pretty closed off. He has close friends that are my friends if ykwim

So after a while my friends who have known him longer than me started realizing what was going on. It was all giggles and laughs with him you know, the usual when we talked about the videos he also reposted and liked.

Then it started being a constant thing, so I’d check my notifications and 89% of them would be him. We never really talk that much about it at school but whenever we had classes I would turn to look around the room and he was just staring at me, and this would go on for months or so.

I would be taking notes for review, and my friend who I’ll call “T” would tell me to turn around because he’s looking at our direction. Then around christmas, well before christmas or maybe a month before we started going back to messaging each other.

Then the messages would escalate to saying goodnight, and good morning first thing, then he would heart my messages. Then we got into a lil “argument” which was a foolish one I got to say but then he refused to respond

So i felt bad and started messaging my friend who he also knows (she doesn’t go to our school but a different one with my other two friends)

And she messaged him bout it caus homegirl does NOT play around and stands on absolute business. And maybe im buggin out because you guys know im mad delusional but like…I see him sitting closer to me in class. He’s always one seat away or sitting directly in front of me.

At one point he sat next to me and our class is pretty big, so I thought “oh, maybe it just feels lonely because he sits on the other side of the classroom and stuff”

My friends threatened to beat me up by the way because I wasn’t noticing the signs and kept making up excuses for it.

So back on topic, he messages me during class and I check my phone, and look up and he’s sitting there as if he didnt just send me a message.

Which I forgot to mention after the “argument” I sent him a whole apology because I genuinely didn’t want to mess up what we were building for all those months. I realized after a while hes the type of guy who would stop talking to you and piss you off if he was really reallyyy upset with you, but also realized he’s kinda petty.

And the message he sent was talking about how he didnt understand on why I was apologizing and stuff but he was willing to talk out on why I thought he was upset with me and solve the tension.

With a attached video he sent twice by the way that stated I was cute.

Seeing this, I threw my phone and quickly picked it up before anyone noticed. Caus he IS NOT THE TYPE TO SEND THIS😭😭 and my friends who have known him for wayyyy longer informed me its not something he actually does because that means he must has taken some actual interest.

So

Thing solved right? Well theres more

His guy friends started teasing us about it and asking “when is the wedding” and calling me by his last name. And almost everyone kept on saying we were dating.

Now I was gonna take the bus home, but I wanted time to myself with people I actually like, and from some itty bitty posts you guys would know my parents aren’t exactly the best. (They suck shit)

So for half of that week I would stay in another teachers classroom who we all love. (He’s amazing)

And mr boy trouble was there too, he was staying late for a reason I didn’t know. Maybe to get work done or smt

And our friends were there too, so mid conversation they would pop in and start teasing us.

Then ONE fateful day, he sent me a portion of our argument on screenshot, and I was like “is this his way of saying he’s upset?” So i asked him and he left me on seen

But he doesn’t like being left on seen, and in one of our conversations he spammed me non stop because he didn’t like it. So im sitting here like “ok, maybe he’s just being petty again because he’s that type of guy”

During all of this happening our friends kept pulling us aside and asking on a serious note if we liked each other, but I never knew his response on it but mine was that he gave me mixed feelings and mixed signals

Caus tell me how one minute he’s calling me cute and sending me videos of bouquets of roses saying “for you pookie <33” and calling me “his pookie” then the next minute he’s completely off the radar and nowhere to be seen

Which I understand he’s busy but he’s literally online and ignoring my messages until he sees fit. Then acts as if he’s mad at me

Now my friends are explaining he doesn’t do this to anyone else AGAIN so he either got a lil crush or bros doing some courting ritual im not aware of.

Now when I ignore him, he plays around with my stuff when I’m not looking and sits down near me as if it’s nobody’s business.

By the way, I’m learning I’m bad at eye contact because whenever we look at each other I’m the first the look away not even a second later. Im starting to think my friends are right and I’m whipped the more I’m typing this crap out man😭

So he goes back to sending me videos and sending messages but when I decide on a good day to respond, he refuses to respond properly. Which is our biggest problem because he sucks at communication.

And my friend gives me a portion on what he said to me, and the screenshot says stuff like “I really do care for her” which really surprised me since he also explained he was gonna try and improve how he looks for valentines

Which I already think he looks cute but ok

Now I send him cute videos, immediately after he reposts them which I find wild once AGAINN

But now he won’t communicate properly and I kinda feel like its my fault

Another thing to mention

He told me “nvm” last week when I asked what he exactly he wanted to talk abt specifically, yknow

About the whole argument thing where I thought he was upset. He messaged my friend about it by the way, saying that we were good now. So he probably thought the conversation wasn’t needed anymore.

But now im scared that MY mixed feelings are turning into “oh I think Im crushing on this guy mad hard” and now we both probably have each other whipped or its one sided.

Help. Me.

I talked to him yesterday on some video he sent and he was like “i send stuff to a bunch of girls but dont check messages”

Then like

What the heck was I man?

But the thing Is he cant pull for the life of him, how do I know this? If you knew him you would know

So

What do I do gang

#{-muxis writes #.maki talks #boy trouble #boy drama #situationships #i think its one #i have no clue anymore #oh so the love of god help me #girl therapy #girl things #i think i have a crush #i dont know anymore #send anons #im bawling #im so dumb help #like 😭😭😭 #pep talk

[ihatecoconut]

Goin’ Out

Link to read on AO3

-

“Go, Sarah.” Sam insisted, noticeably trying to shepherd her towards the door. “Go, have fun.”

“Are you sure? I mean, I always tuck Cass into bed, I’ve always done that, I don’t want to interrupt his routine.”

“I’ll be fine, mom!” Cass yelled back from the kitchen.

Sam cocked a pointed eyebrow at her, “See? He’ll be fine.”

She sighed, “Georgie isn’t even here yet.”

As if on cue, a recognisable car horn sounded from the street. Sarah shut her eyes briefly.

“Ok, ok, I’m going.”

Sam continued to shepherd her towards the door, as if he though that she would make a break for her room and leave him to explain to Georgie that she had changed her mind. He stood in the doorway after she stepped off the porch as well and watched her go.

“Have fun!”

She responded with a middle finger.

 How she was the one who ended up going to the bar for the drinks was unclear, and yet there she was, pressed up against the edge and desperately trying to get the bartender’s attention as he served the younger women, the whiter women and the men without even acknowledging her.

“Excuse me?” A man leaned over next to her, and Sarah sighed internally, another person for the bartender to serve and pretend he hadn’t seen her. “I believe this young woman has been waiting for a while.”

The bartender flicked his eyes over at Sarah, mumbled something and went back to finishing the drink he was working on.

“Honestly,” the man next to her muttered, rubbing at his nose, “the nerve of some people.”

It made her laugh, the expression on his face and the old-lady phrase coming out of his mouth, and it didn’t make her as irritated as she would usually be if someone ‘came to her rescue’ without asking first.

“Thanks.”

“it’s no problem,” and then, slightly panicked, “that was ok, right? I didn’t mean to suggest that you couldn’t get his attention yourself, just that he seemed to be ignoring you and…”

“It’s fine,” she replied, still smiling, “thank you.”

He nodded, a little relieved, “Cool, ok, uh, I’m Mark, by the way, Mark Banner- no relation to Dr Banner.”

“Sarah Wilson.”

“No relation to Captain Wilson?”

She laughed, “He’s my brother, actually,”

“You’re joking.”

“Unfortunately, I am not.”

He leaned back on the bar, eyeing her carefully, “I cannot tell if that’s true or not.”

“It’s true.”

He snapped his fingers suddenly, “Oh! So you must be the mother of his nephews, the ones he always talks about on TV?”

“Cass and AJ, yes.”

“You let them watch those interviews?”

She snorted, “Of course not, they’ve got big enough heads being able to boast that their uncle’s Captain America.”

He laughed, “It must be pretty exciting for them.”

“You have no idea. They never shut up about it, their teachers actually had to ask me to ask them to stop bringing it up at school.”

Mark choked on his drink, “Oh, God, that’s amazing. Too distracting to the class?”

“’Not a conductive environment to learning,’ so, yeah, pretty much.”

“To be fair, I think I’d probably have done the same as a kid. Maybe I’d still do it as an adult if I was related to someone like that.”

Sarah hummed, “I don’t know, everyone in our neighbourhood knew us both growing up, so it’s as weird for them that he’s famous as for me.”

“It’s definitely one of the weirder things these days, people just gaining these abilities seemingly randomly. Who knows who could be next?” he paused to tilt his head towards her, as if he were about to impart a secret. “It could be one of us. It could be the bartender.”

They both turned to look at the bartender and watched as he almost instantly tripped and spilled beer directly down his shirt, prompting both of them to start laughing hysterically. Sarah turned away, trying not to look at the poor guy in case he noticed they were laughing.

“Where’s your wife?” She gestured to the ring on his left hand, which was apparently a bad move because his face fell immediately.

“I don’t know, our divorce just went through, I guess I’ve been wearing it still because I was hoping it didn’t get to this.”

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled sadly, “Yeah, well, it is what it is, I suppose.”

She sipped her drink, not entirely certain how to restart the conversation after that.

“How about the boys’ father?”

“Died, during the blip.”

“God,” he swallowed his mouthful of beer very fast, “God, that’s awful.”

“It is what it is, I suppose.”

There was a moment of silence in which he fiddled with the ring, watching the light glint off it. “Guess I should take it off.”

“You don’t have to,” She put her hand over his, which was moving to pull the ring off, “it’s still a loss, and you’re allowed to deal with it at your own speed.”

He looked down at her hand, and the paler strip of skin around her finger that was still visible, three years after she’d stopped wearing it. “Does it feel weird? Not wearing it?”

“It did at first, but I guess wearing it all the time felt weird at first too. You get used to it.”

He smiled ruefully and pulled it off with an air of finality. “To new beginnings, huh?”

Sarah tapped her glass against his and smiled back, softly, “To new beginnings.”

They were quiet for a moment, him still rubbing his fingers over the ring despite having taken it off.

“It must be hard for you, two kids and no husband to help.”

She took another sip of her drink. “Yeah. I mean, I have Sam and sometimes Bucky to help out, but for the first few years there were so many times that I just thought I couldn’t do it, that it would be easier to…”

“To give up?” He finished.

“Yeah. But I couldn’t, they were relying on me.”

“I think that’s the one thing that I’m grateful for in all this, is that we never had kids, so at least we’re not dragging two innocents into this mess.”

An odd sort of understanding settled between them, and Sarah was about to open her mouth and ask another question or say something else when Georgie appeared at her side,

“Sarah! We thought we’d lost you,” she laughed, quite clearly on her way towards drunk.

Mark smiled, “Thanks for talking,”

“Wait,” pulled by the impulsive instinct that she normally didn’t let herself give into, Sarah pulled a napkin towards her and scribbled her number on it, quickly pushing it over to him before she could change her mind.

He smiled, taking it almost shyly as he didn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks.”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd, and Georgie was leaning on her shoulder, grinning.

“Shut up.”

“He seems nice.”

“Shut up.” But she was smiling.

 She was a grown woman, married once already and with two children and yet here she was, checking her phone every five minutes for a text like a high schooler after their first date, jumping every time anything made a noise as if it was a notification.

The house was clean by the time he called, her nervous energy looking for an outlet, and the unexpected excitement, the unexpected jump of her heart had her leaning against the wall for support.

“Hey,”

“Hey, this is Sarah, right?”

She laughed, “Did you think I’d give you the wrong number?”

“Nope,” his voice was warm, smiling, “just gotta check,”

“Obviously,”

“Obviously,” he echoed.

There was a pause.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

She laughed at the careful, nervous question. “I’m good, cleaned the house today.”

“And here I thought you’d be waiting for me to call.”

Her mouth twisted up, “If I was, I’d never tell.”

“Of course not, you’re a classy lady, Sarah Wilson.”

“Why, thank you.”

There was another, longer pause. It was only his breathing over the phone and the fact that she actually checked to see that the call was still going that reassured Sarah he hadn’t hung up on her.

“You still there?”

His nervous laughter echoed over the phone and his voice dropped in volume for a second, as if he had pulled the phone away from his mouth to wipe at his face or something. “Sorry, I don’t normally do this.”

“It’s fine.” Sarah replied, grinning wide enough that it could be heard in her voice.

He laughed again, “Sorry, I just… uh, I was wondering if you would, if you could, uh,”

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if I could meet your brother.”

The words took a second to set in, but when they did, they washed over her like cold water. An almost numb feeling seeped down to her bones and an anxious shame settled in her chest. “What?”

“Your brother?” Apparently, he hadn’t noticed the change in her voice because he laughed nervously again. “Captain America?”

“You want me to help you meet Sam?”

There was a moment of hesitation, “Well, yeah… what else was I gonna ask for?”

“What el—” She hung up furiously, refusing to let herself waste any words on him.

A moment passed, her hands shaking from the nervous adrenaline that was never realised, watching her phone light up with another incoming call, and then flung it across the room, angry at everything, wondering why she’d even bothered. She sunk to the ground, back against the wall, needing support now for a different reason and stared at the floor.

“What else was he gonna ask for?” She whispered to herself, laughing slightly hysterically until the laughter turned into tears, running down her face and darkening the carpet where they landed. “What else?”

She’d experienced rejection before, had been turned down by boys she thought liked her and yet somehow this was even worse. Shame welled up in her stomach- pointless, nothing she had done had been something to be ashamed of, he should be the one feeling like that- settling in her bones like an uncomfortable feeling she couldn’t shake.

More than anything, unexpected and sharp, she missed her husband.

A slightly louder sob ripped itself from her mouth before she could push it back, before she could clasp a hand over her lips and muffle any sounds that might have come and with that, many more followed until she was shaking, head buried in her knees, denim wet where her face was.

 “Sarah?” Her brother asked, quiet and familiar. “Bucky told me to come check on you.”

Part of her wanted to be angry at him, blame him for becoming that sort of icon, take out all the shame on him, but it wasn’t his fault. Sam hadn’t asked for this, probably hadn’t even known it might happen.

She raised her head and gave him a watery smile. He was by her side in an instant, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her into his side to literally cry on his shoulder. She went easily, breathing in the familiar smell of family, breathing a little easier.

“What’s wrong?”

She turned her head, resting it on his shoulder now and focused on the wall opposite them. “I met a guy last night.”

Sam tensed at her side almost instantly, the sort of battle-readiness she remembered from their childhood, their teens, their adulthood, ready to protect and defend and she loved him for it; the ache of that almost enough to overrule the painful shame.

He didn’t say anything, just waited for her to speak.

“I’ve been waiting for him to call me all day. I really liked him, Sam, I thought we… I don’t know, connected?”

He hummed, letting her know he was listening, waiting for her to go at her own pace.

“And he did call,” she laughed, although it came out more as a sob than anything else, “he called and he was nervous, stuttering, talking about how he ‘didn’t normally do this’ so I thought… I thought…”

“That he was gonna ask you out?”

“Yeah.” She shut her eyes. “But apparently he didn’t like me at all, he just wanted to meet you.”

“What?!” Sam pulled away, turning to look her dead in the eye. “You serious?”

She nodded, dropping her eyes from his. “Yep.”

He wanted to say something, wanted to jump up and fix this for her, Sarah could feel it in the tense line of his body, but he stayed there and forcibly relaxed. “What do you want me to do?”

“Stay here? Just… stay here?”

“Of course.” He was worried, he still wanted to get up and so something, but he wrapped an arm back around her shoulders and leant back into the wall, humming something she vaguely recognised under his breathe.

“Bucky has the boys,” he added after a moment, “and he’s cooking dinner.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

#falcon and the winter soldier #captain america and the winter soldier #tfatws #caatws #sarah wilson #sam wilson #Bucky Barnes #fanfiction #tfatws fanfiction

[byte-the-bullet]

The world outweighs us (Ch/page 2)

(So for context, perspective swaps are common in this specific story.)

(Sanji’s point of view.)

Vish is finally settled down, he looks peaceful right now. His eyes are fluttering as he sleeps, I can only imagine what he’s dreaming about. He’s always been such a hyper kid, a bit childish and constantly talking-so I can only wonder what that brain of his is thinking about. Turning my attention back to Page, I try to be polite as I question her-“Page, why are you so willing to let us into your car and take us somewhere?” I was told outsiders were hostile and crude, but also distrustful of everyone. “Well I believe your story-we’ve had a lot of cult activity out here and a lot of escapees need help getting adjusted.” She responded, and by now I’m a bit suspicious-Page is putting herself in danger then not addressing the danger she’s in. Also, what’s a cult? I’ll ask later. “Yes, but you’re directly placing yourself in danger by taking two random men into your car and outside security.” I reply, and Page’s eyes go wide in shock. “So Vish isn’t a girl?” She says, utter disbelief and mild confusion painted on her face. “Ah. I understand now-well, despite Vish’s appearance and high-pitched voice, no. Vish is male.” I explain this, holding back laughter as to not wake Vish up. He’d be so offended if he heard that-Vish has always been a little insecure, but hearing that would definitely damage his little ego. Page definitely seems a little more worried for her safety now, but is trying not to show it. “Oh. Uhm, that’s interesting! Is uh, is it trans or something?” Did Page just call Vish an… ‘It’? What the- “Pardon? No. I don’t even know what trans is. And please, Vish is not some creature-he’s Vish.” Page hears my response and giggles softly, but there’s nothing to be laughing about. “I’m sorry, I keep forgetting that you guys have no experience out in the real world.” She finds this ordeal hilarious, and her laughter is contagious-I have to keep myself from laughing a little. “Ah, I see. Page, where are you going with us, anyways?” Page clearly didn’t think this through, she opened her mouth to speak then immediately shut it. “Well, are you two hurt?” She asks, “No, we aren’t.” I reply, “Well, the police here are pretty friendly-and they’re usually pretty bored with how calm this place is. Do you want me to leave you at the police station?” Page says this, again forgetting that I have no idea what a police station is. “Oh, of course Page, just casually leave me and Vish alone in a place we don’t understand and have no idea how to navigate properly-filled with people who undoubtedly will treat us poorly.” I replied, a flat tone and glare used. “Calm down-I’ll just take you two to my place-no worries.” Page says, laughing at my sarcasm-or maybe at me. Either way, I don’t care, to her-Vish and I are still threats-so keeping her trust is necessary. Now, it’s time to calculate… If I ask her what a cult is now, she’ll take that to my advantage-she’ll think I’m less intelligent and it’ll remind her that she knows more than me. “Page, what’s a cult?” She reacted just how I thought she would-thinking that she’s going to explain this and I’ll magically be convinced that this outside world is better than our sector.

“Your church, they have rules and punishments for stuff, right?” I nod yes, and she continues speaking-“Well, you don’t have that here. Basically, we have rules, yeah, but those rules are much more relaxed. Basic stuff like don’t murder people, don’t hurt people, and don’t steal stuff.” Something tells me that she’s right, but does that mean that this place is free? Free from our God? “So, if I wanted to wear mixed textiles, or eat sugar before sunrise, I could?” I ask, and she looks extremely confused. “Er… Yeah? What happened before when you… Uh…” She says, obviously concerned. Well, I may have followed all the rules perfectly-but I remembered the punishments well. “For mixing textiles, we were forced to eat the offending textiles. For eating sugar before sunrise, we had a tooth pulled.” I remembered when I’d seen one of the children accidentally wear two different colors on the same day, poor thing. But Vish was allowed to do whatever he’d pleased, he was our Saint’s son, after all. “What the fuck?! They did that to you? Seriously-they actually pulled your teeth! And- And how do you even eat something like that..?” I wasn’t expecting Page to freak out like that, she’s acting like this is something barbaric. It’s normal for us, so why is she so appalled? “Well, yes. I don’t see the probl-“ She slams on the car’s lower pedal, making the car halt-and waking up Vish and whipping around to look at me. “They were torturing you two! How are you so damn calm?!” Thank god Vish was too disoriented to notice her pure horror, instead clinging to me and falling asleep again. “Page, understand that we grew up with this-this is normal to us.” I tried to calm her, I’d never heard a woman cry out like that-and Vish was whining again, like a child who’s having a nightmare. “I can’t… I don’t believe that you could put up with that…” Page sighs, shaking her head, and continuing to move the car. “I don’t understand.” I say to myself, completely on accident. In all reality, I do understand-this world outside the church, I’ve… Been here before.

#bytethebullet #original story #story #WIP

[flippinwhippen]

She was my nightmare incarnate, a self-righteous shithead who didn’t care about my intentions, didn’t care about my feelings – only saw herself with her fucking victim complex. Every time I come close to forgiving her, even say that maybe I will, all I have to do is think. Because regardless of how forgiving I am, there are some things that even I cannot overlook.

Drew my characters in ways that upset me

Asked nonstop questions about world building details that didn’t matter to me, and often times only related to her own character she’d built to put in my world

Actively argued with me about my own world/character motivations – argued with me about my own creative works

Sulked when I wasn’t responding – didn’t ask me what was wrong privately, but instead ghosted me in an effort to punish me

Acted like I owed her something

Actively provoked me when I was unmedicated, even when my spouse said it would be a bad idea

Turned hostile quickly, tried to pin the entire situation on me – taking no blame for any of her actions.

Tried to diagnose me as a monster, tried to make me feel like a monster

Continued to post about my characters, even after we’d had are blow up. Posted about them in a way that all but indicated that they were hers, underlining even more that she never respected me as a content creator.

Continuously shit talked me online, tagging my username in posts repeatedly

Actively played a role in the destruction of my relationship, continues to play a role in the destruction of my relationship.

Nearly caused me to kill myself by throwing myself out a window

Did cause me to self-harm repeatedly, which is probably good cause every time my forgiving nature pops all I have to do is look down

Posted a fucking google file of shit directly onto my page – harassing my users to the point that I had to turn on moderated comments.

The funniest part of all of this, is she accuses me of being a narcissist. This bitch needs a fucking mirror.

I left her alone, I did, I was the bigger fucking person for months while she attacked me and attacked me – and I was told I had to be okay with it. Because she’s my partners best friend, because my partner has never had a friend like her.

Maybe she can keep her damn friend and leave me, maybe I’d prefer that.

Maybe I’m sick and tired of trying to not stir the shit pot because of how it might blow up. I hear excuse after excuse for her. Poor thing, she’s unmedicated, she doesn’t mean it, she’s just trying to understand herself. I’m not here for goddamn target practice, I’m not here to be her damn victim.

And I’m told that she’s allowed to vent her feelings on private blogs. No one even looks at her tumblr, why would you care that she’s saying horrible things and tagging you? But you, you can’t retaliate ever. You have to be nice even if she hurts you.

You have to behave yourself, even while she screams. Don’t get angry, you’ll scare people – don’t get upset, you’ll hurt people’s feelings.

It’s well past the point of course, that any of this matters – as far as I’m aware. I have no idea what the fucker does in her spare time, I try not to think about her. But then I’ll remember, and I’ll remember everything that was said and done and I’ll be so, so angry again.

I’ve never been in a situation like this before, never thought I would be. I’m so careful about who I’m friends with, about who I bare those bits of my soul to. But I gave her bits of me I can’t get back now, and some days it still just makes me want to quit.

To throw all that creative energy in the garbage, just to rid myself of her.

There’s no real ending to this, just a rant, thrown on the internet to clear my head. If she gets to rant on tumblr, then so do I. Will she go back to doing what she was doing, who knows. I don’t even know if she ever stopped, I know better than to look.

Take my words abyss, and give me nothing in return – I have no intention of ever looking at any of it anyways. If you find it, if you read it, then that’s your own damn fault isn’t it?

[away-ward]

I would love to read KO’s post about Will but I can’t seem to find it 😭

I don’t understand why we gotta read dark romance, expect only the MMC to ruck up, and suddenly had to paint em as this innocent girl or woman or something, as if she did not had a fair share to will's ruin?

I’m not saying that Em didn’t hurt Will because she did I think that has been very obvious. But how he chose to cope with losing her is not on Em. Also Em can do no wrong in my eyes 🤷🏻‍♀️ yes she was bitchy but I support women’s rights AND wrongs! And I happened to love her bitchy attitude.

But finally when we meet emory and we saw her hurting will, we wanna change up her characterisation now?

I never said she didn’t hurt Will? What I meant was even after everything Will went through he was still close minded in viewing Em’s trauma and still refused to see that some people are forced to make tough choices. Idk maybe it’s because he has never been in a situation where he was forced to make a hard decision but for him to say

“I didn’t give a fuck about the why anymore.” — the why in question being about her abuse … is just a very weird thing to say. or for him to say “I know you know how to take a beating,” —ABSOLUTELY insane. Which is why in my eyes why should Em (which she does care bc she has held tremendous guilt for it but I feel like she shouldn’t) care about what he went through when he clearly doesn’t care about her trauma.

Em is a better person than me thats for sure. How she can easily forgive people is beyond me.

I also live in willemmy delulu land but I can do that and still hate Will 🤷🏻‍♀️

hey there again, Anon.

I also live in willemmy delulu land

At least this is something we all have in common.

I would love to read KO’s post about Will but I can’t seem to find it

The best way to read anything I posted about a specific character is to go to the character’s tag. I’ll tag this for will, so all you’ll have to do is click/tap his name and scroll to the bottom to get to the first posts. Start there and read what interests you. Tumblr’s search function is pretty horrendous, so it's understandable that you wouldn’t find anything if you just type 'will' into the search bar.

Or you could use the asked and answered. But I really like my will grayson tag.

Too bad there isn't a ways to filter tags, so you could look up asked and answered plus the will grayson tag.

The tag is #will grayson iii, by the way.

You didn’t really respond to anything I said, so I guess I’ll leave those alone. But I do think it’s interesting that the two quotes you pulled from were when Will was in the depths of his anger, not at all thinking about things rationally, and fighting his love for Emory with everything he had. Of course he’s going to say some of the worst things at that time. People say the most awful, hurtful things when they’re angry.

Not that it makes it right.

In reply, I’d offer:

“I dreaded dealing with her because even still – after the betrayal – I hadn’t wanted to lose her.

‘I should have come to you,’ she finally said. ‘I wish I had come to you and explained and faced you then.’

I swallowed the lump in my throat, knowing it wasn’t her fault. I wasn’t a passenger in all of this.”

And

“I should have stayed. She hadn’t needed a boyfriend. She needed a friend, and I’d been selfish and arrogant and spoiled. I should have been whatever she needed, whenever she needed me. She didn’t owe me her heart just because I wanted it. If I’d cared, I would’ve been more patient.”

And

“I love you,” he said again, “But I’ll let you go.”

And

“I’m sorry for everything,” I said.

“Me too, baby.” He kissed me. “I should’ve stayed. I’m sorry I walked away. I’m sorry I left you that day in the hallway at school.”

(had to include this one because I previously posted that he never said this directly to her. I usually skim over this scene, so I forgot it was there. I’m sorry, Will.)

My point is, Will very much did recognize that he was wrong, he recognized her trauma and that she didn’t owe him anything. He just didn’t do it right away, and let anger and resentment cloud his view of her.

You can hate Will. You may not think his words after the fact carry any weight at all, and that’s fair. I’m not demanding people love him. To me, his growth as a person is the most believable out of all the guys, and his love and devotion for Emory is the most obvious when taking the entire story into account. Which I really enjoyed (after several rounds of reading because he can be just the most insufferable person sometimes).

But that’s just me. Thanks for listening.

-KO

#asked and answered #will grayson iii #asked and answered 160 #response to prev ask

[knife-at-a-knife-fight]

As promised, part two: deflection, avoidance, and my seemingly counterproductive inverse relationship with these. 

If you’ve ever asked about me (and chances are you haven’t, but maybe you tried once), you will likely come across very quickly some examples of my IMMENSE, awe-inspiring ability to deflect attention, avoid responding to things, and sidestep questions; all while still responding and saying a hell of a lot of nothing in the meantime. 

One may interpret this as me not wanting to discuss the asked about topic, but really this often couldn’t be further from the truth. If I don’t want to discuss something, you won’t know enough about it to even ask. I am notably difficult to read and so if there are any clues towards something going on, those were almost certainly placed there purposefully. Otherwise, i will directly say if I don’t want to talk about something. 

So why do this? Why, when asked about something i want to talk about, do I not take this opportunity to talk about it? Well, you see, it’s really quite simple. I used to. I used to take any given opportunity to talk about something that was on my mind. The issue? people often didn’t care. And people still don’t. Be it that they get distracted, leave, or just don’t want to listen, people don’t tend to stick with me through a conversation about me unless they can make it about themselves. And know what? It fucking hurts. That’s what it comes down to; it fucking hurts when something that means a lot to me is brushed over by people who lie through gritted teeth claiming they care. Again we find ourselves in a case of plausible deniability; maybe you could have responded well if you had the chance handed to you, but likely not, but let’s not certify that information. 

So what is it exactly that I do? I mean, surely it would be obvious, right? You would notice if I changed the subject on a dime? Well, I’m crafty and an asshole. I will answer you question, most often, however I will do so vaguely, then in that vague answer pick a moderately unrelated point to elaborate on. There will be a line of logic from point A to point B that one can follow, but it is ultimately a wilful departure from point A. 

The more specific the question is, the more interesting my response will be to do this. But equally intriguing, another thing i will do, is find a way to blame you, my interlocutor, for my lack of response, to put it bluntly. This is less a fault thing and more introduced as a means of caring; “nothing worth worrying about,” “I don’t want to bring down the mood,” many comments of this variety. All of them work to make you feel like you know about Something, but put you in a position where you can easily leave it there. And most people do. 

“But why not just ask people for help or a listening ear if that’s what you want?” Excellent question, me asking the disembodied questions, glad to see you back here. Because it’s never worked. And if you’ve never begged and grovelled to be treated with some basic human dignity at the feet of people whom you have always supported, then you will never understand how humiliating and dehumanising it is. I know I’m guarded, but it’s because they beat it into me. I am the product of my environment, and maybe one should consider if they had a hand in making it a hostile one. Kick a dog enough times and it pretty well stops barking, yet some have the audacity to turn around and go “why are you so quiet? You don’t have to be, you know?” Damned if i do and damned if i don’t. 

“Okay so then how can someone tell that you’re deflecting, if you can do it rather smoothly?” Well here's the thing, me asking the disembodied questions, the smoothness of it depends on the person. Some people, it takes a fair bit of work, others I know never pay enough attention let alone care enough to call it out, so it can be the clunkiest thing in the world and I’ll get away just fine with it.  So the question to ask oneself; is the current conversation on topic of the original concern? If not, how long did it take to get to the new topic? Some of these people i can do a complete 180 in one message and they won’t say a word. They’re just along for the ride, they don’t give a shit. They’re not an active participant here unless it’s about them. So if the topic rather rapidly shifts to something that you could talk endlessly about, then chances are that either you hijacked the conversation, or i slipped out in a way to avoid further questioning. And I don’t want to change the topic, I want to talk about the original thing. 

“You hear how backwards that is, though, right?” Yes, me asking the disembodied questions, I’m deathly aware of it. Really, it is ultimately a quick check to see if they’re actually trying at all or if i’m definitely pulling 100% of the weight in the conversation. If they don’t protest in the slightest, then they don’t really care, now do they? If they don’t even seem to notice, then are they even paying enough attention to have been able to discuss the topic at hand? They might be willing to bet my wellbeing on it, but I’m sure as hell not. 

So what do you do? If you are actually putting a modicum of effort into this conversation such that you clock that i’m clearly not answering without just saying “yeah I don’t want to talk about that” directly, how might you approach this? Well usually I prefer to leave this to people to figure out, because the venn diagram of people who actually give a shit and people who figure out a working solution is unequivocally a circle.  But I will give you one option for free, much to my future self’s self loathing: say what happened. It is far from rocket science, but to be fair, it is quite simple. Directly call out that i dodged the question without addressing it, and ask it again. Tell me - and show me - that you’re listening. Create an environment where I can feel listened to and cared about. Don’t cut down the trust tree.

But what I must say as well; don’t fuck this up for everyone else. Some people have figured out all by their damn selves the simple rule of “ask twice to get an answer” and if you abuse this, if you start pushing me to answer and then being unresponsive - or better yet, completely fucking off - when i answer, then I will get more sketchy about answering things than I already am. If you aren’t going to try; don’t ask. I gave you a simple out for a reason, if you don’t give a shit, then take the out. Will I be offended? Yes. Bur far less offended than if you push and then let me fall. The first i consider negligence, the latter I consider direct intent to cause harm. And if you do it enough, it will no longer be an option. And then you can have the joy of explaining to all the people who spent months or years slowly approaching the injured deer why you shot it the first chance you got. 

tldr; if you ask a question that i require you truly wholeheartedly listen to the answer for me to respond, i will give you a very easy out. If you aren’t going to give a shit and put some effort in, take the out. But if you actually care and will see it through, if you’re going to try and won’t flake, then ask the question again. 

Tune in next time to learn a bit about oddly specific offhand comments!

#mine #uhhh group #a lil 'how to' for dealing with me #surely i will be on Tumblr by the time this one goes up #i don't trust future me; that person is kinda an asshole #idk if they'll private the rest of them or delete them altogether; but i'm betting they won't just let them all go up #to whom this is for: my love; you know this; but you asked once that i explain it more in depth #if anyone else accidentally learns something along the way then cheers; i guess #have fun and don't fuck it up for everyone

[goldengoddess]

I absolutely loved Sober Thoughts!! It was just so freaking good, drunk Kaz is adorable! Is there any chance we could get a part 2? Maybe the morning after and just how Kaz would react to finding out what he said? Or maybe he remembers? Either way, I think there’s definitely potential for more (only if you want to of course).

sober thoughts part two - kaz brekker

part one is here (read it first! it’ll probably help give context) 

pairing: kaz brekker x reader

a/n: hellooooo i got SO many request for a part two of sober thoughts (this request being the first!) and i am here to give the people what they want <3333 threw in some domestic crows moments in there as well bc i love them sm 

warnings: like one mention of food, alcohol, hang overs

kaz looked like he had been hit by a train.

his hair was sticking out in all different places, part of his shirt was tucked into his pants and the other wasn't, his walk was slower than usual, he was squinting his eyes at the light of the room, and holding his head gingerly. but, like always, wearing his black gloves.

he was definitely fighting off a killer hangover.

as kaz walked over to the breakfast table, filled with food thanks to wylan and matthias' cooking, you shared a look with jesper. the same way you had the night before. as your face turned flush with embarrassment at the memories, jesper's lips quirked into smirk. he was standing on the opposite side of the table, leaning on his elbows. nina, sat next to you, was also grinning in your direction. you internally cursed jesper and his friendship with the girl, if nina knew then everyone knew.

knew that kaz brekker had been hammered last night, and that he'd called you pretty with so much seriousness that just the thought sent your stomach into a frantic state.

you knew kaz probably didn't remember the night before and you wanted to save the two of you the shame and embarrassment. especially kaz. and you didn't want him to feel obligated to pretend he had meant his flirting. you knew it was a drunken moment, something fun to do or say as the alcohol flowed through his system.

even if you would give anything to hear kaz call you marvellous into your ear again, fully sober this time.

as kaz sat in the seat next to you, you sent a silent prayer to whatever saint was listening that jesper would keep his mouth shut.

but of course, the saints didn't listen to barrel rats as often as they should.

"so kaz, baby" jesper giggled, "did you have a fun night?"

you watched kaz lift his gaze to jesper's grinning face and send him the deadliest stare ever. nina started cracking up next to you.

"jesper if you don't quiet yourself right now, i'll make sure you never play another game of cards again" he growled, throwing his head into his hands to hide from the light.

"aw c'mon kaz, don't be like that. it was my party of course you had fun, maybe a little bit too much fun." nina teased him, while shoving another bit of waffle into her mouth. kaz didn't respond, only keeping his head hidden in his hands.

"yeah i'm almost positive you felt very pretty last night" jesper laughed, emphasizing the word pretty. the reference made you blush as jesper and nina shared a high five at his clever wordplay.

kaz lifted his head and positioned his chin on his hands. you couldn't help but appreciate how sweet and sleepy he looked in that moment. you felt happy that kaz felt comfortable enough with all of you to let you see him vulnerable and dare you say, soft. "jesper, what in the hell are you going on about."

he rolled his eyes and smiled mischievously, the way jesper is so known to smile. he shot you a quick glance and said, "you know, drunk words are sober thoughts, angel."

at this phrase, kaz stilled. you could see the wheels turning in his head. and you could see the moment he remembered the night before and his entire body straightened. he whipped his head in your direction, looking at you properly for the first time, his mouth open slightly in an 'o'.

nina slid out of her chair and grabbed jesper's hand, dragging him out of the room. "have fun you two" she called out behind her.

you looked down at your hands that were sat on the table. "kaz you really don't have to explain yourself or anything. it was a party for crying out loud, i won't hold silly compliments like that against you."

except they had meant the world to me, you thought to yourself.

a part of you, a very naive part, the part that ignored that this was the infamous kaz brekker sitting in front of you, wanted him to say he meant it. wanted to hear the words from his mouth right now. wanted the words to be more than just alcohol.

you looked up at him and you almost lost your unphased act at his face. he was already looking at you. looking at you with some resemblance to the way he had looked at you before. soft. like you possessed everything he'd been looking for.

"they weren't silly," he said. you could tell it cost him to say the words aloud. the extra effort in each syllable of the admission was evident.

you waited for him to go on. you gave him a suspicious look. you didn't want his words out of pity.

he took a breath and averted his eyes, preparing to try again. "i do," is all he said.

"you do what, kaz?"

"think you're pretty" he clearly said, looking directly into your eyes.

you sucked in a breath and clung to the side of the table.

"and i do think you're marvellous" he added on in a much smaller voice.

if you didn't have the table for the support you might have fallen out of your chair at those words. they struck you like a bullet. physically striking, like every punch you'd ever received on a job. but in a totally good way.

"you do?" you questioned in an even smaller voice. you waited for him to say he was kidding. to take back the words. blame them on the mean mix of drinks that wylan had created the night before.

instead, he lifted his chin and with so much sincerity said, "i think you're everything."

involuntarily, your mouth grew into a bright smile.

he thought you were pretty. marvellous. everything.

kaz brekker thought you were everything.

and he was still looking at you like that. the look that caused your skin to erupt into goosebumps and the air around you to feel electric.

you leaned closer to him, placing your elbows on the table. "oh do you now?" you giggled.

he rolled his eyes and leaned closer to you as well, "yeah, angel. "

"and you're sober now?" you teased him.

"the soberest, scouts honor" he chuckled and crossed his heart, to really drive the point home.

you blushed and shyly passed him your cup of coffee.

"well even though i know you have no honor," he smiled at that, "i think you're fucking marvellous too kaz. and so much more than that too. "

#Kaz Brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker x oc #six of crows imagine #six of crows #soc #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone #s&b #grisha #grishaverse #leigh bardugo #nina zenik #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #matthias helvar

[astrohnova]

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ransom hugh drysdale thrombey x latina!camgirl!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 2.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 Ransom and you have a complicated relationship. But his fucking makes it simple.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 +18 ONLY. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, i’ll kick your ass and also block u. insults, explicit language, smut (sex toy use, filmed sex, filmed masturbation, dumbification, breeding kink, squirting mention, spit play, blowjob, rough sex (all consented tho) creampie, daddy kink, "bitch", "whore", "cumslut", "slut"), use of spanish phrases without translation. WHEN IN DOUBT, DON’T READ. THAT’S IT.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

I’m new at writing so if I should add more tags let me know. Also, english is not my first language so it might be a little weirdly worded so just let me know and i’ll change whatever’s wrong. I’m sorry

If you reblog and leave me some feedback I’ll kiss your mouth. With tongue.

The new lingerie set you’d bought made you feel savage. You knew it was something that your followers would enjoy. You decided to appear soft and delicate today, a good girl. So you turned your camera on, and while you were waiting for your payers to come in, you were sucking a lollipop endearingly, to gradually rile up the people watching you.

The candles you had lit along with the perfume you had spread in the room, with the soft music sounding in the background set the ambient, and your hand was gloved sending goosebumps through every part of skin you caressed. You were just fueling every sense, aislating yourself from the real world. You put the lollipop down and laided your back onto the headboard of your bed, with the computer at your feet, your clothed pussy in the first plane for your followers to admire and the clothed hand making it’s way there.

You’ve bought this glove recently, it was a sex toy. Made of black latex and a different head on each of your fingers, along with different textures that would let you see the stars. You even put a vibrator inside the middle one, just touching the point of your middle finger. Every head was different and enticing. And the vibrations between your thighs, so close to you sensible cunt left you gasping. Your lips and eyes stand out from the mask that you had on your face, sensual and with the same color as your underwear.

You looked straight to the camera when you grazed the vibrator contained by the latex over your pussy, while you gasped and then moaned, laying your head back. You could hear the sound of subscriptions coming in, and you suggestively moaned before pulling your panties to the side with your uncovered hand and brushing the vibrator on your clit, whining lightly. Then you put one of your fingers inside of you, and moaned directly to the camera, while you rubbed soft circles on your clit with your thumb, your belly contracting gently, your nipples hardening.

You took your finger off and brought it to your lips. And before you kept the show going, you said “Thank you for the gift, I’m enjoying myself so much. I hope you get off too”. You inserted two fingers in your pussy and moaned out loud.

📷

He was watching you going down the street, completely mesmerized. Just like the other men and women seeing you. He was smoking, but the smoke got into his eyes, for not being careful; his whole attention was on you. He threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it.

“Que hermosa, mamita.” A cute man complimented you, and you smiled and winked.

“Gracias mi amor. So pretty yourself.” You complemented and left him with his mouth open. But compliments were responded to, and he was a beautiful man.

You were walking with so much confidence and all eyes were naturally attracted to your presence, in that dress that hugged you perfectly, in those heels that took you some time to accustom to but now you walked like on a runway. And those striking stockings that you were wearing. You really were feeling yourself, that’s what a good night of orgasms and money gets you, really. You had earned so much, just had a few video requests that you had to fulfill and this month's cuota would be filled. And with this new job you had landed, things were starting to get off for you and your family

He was about to kill all the tigers that were stomping in your way, looking at you the way he did. Thinking the same things that he did, incited by that fucking dress, that gracefullness of your soul, and the barm coat that flew with the wind as you ate the wole street up. He was meeting you on this old cozy bar, after seeing that video of you yesterday he was riled up and just needed to be inside your warm pussy this cold afternoon, maybe with the coffee that you were gonna drink while you argued still stained on your mouth, that he was going to pry from your willing mouth as you gasped against him, with your mixed spit going down your chin from the sloppy kisses that he loves, and your breathy whines that had him rubbing his crotch against your stomach. And he couldn’t wait to see if you were wearing the lingerie that he had bought you, with that color that highlighted your skin undertone and got his dick leaking precum. Last night you were glorious, and today you were a walking goddess.

“Hola, imbécil.”

“Now that’s not very nice, especially after all the money I gave you last night.”

“Mhhm. Others gave me more, papito.”

“That so?”

“It is.”

“I got something more that they can’t give you. And you’re driving me feral, walking like that towards me, flirting with other guys. I thought I made it clear that you were mine.”

“And I thought I made it clear that I was my own. Especially after last night, did you see me get myself off that hard? And after the video endend I got so fucking happy, so fucking horny with all the comments, the views, the pictures that I got that I went to sleep humping my pillow.”

“Pictures?”

“Oh yes, I got so many pictures of so many pretty cocks daddy”

“You were thinking of other cocks, slut?” He questioned, grabbing you by your arm and putting you against a wall as you laughed.

“Not only thinking, papi, I found this hot guy that was just drooling for me, and he made me drool for him so much. The sheets were so messy that I had to change them after he left.” He gripped your throat harder, just growling furiously.

“Fucking bitch, I’m gonna stuff my cock so deep than your throat to make you regret everything you just said.”

“But daddy, I haven’t told you the best part yet!” You bite your lip, seeing his predatory eyes that wanted to devour you entirely. And you kept going without remorse. “The mattress was so wet too. You never reached that, did you? You want me to think that I’m yours but I got others treating me better.” You pouted, all that you were saying was true and seeing this look in his eyes was such a sight. You almost whined from his look alone.

He grabbed you by the arm and took you to his car, getting on it just right before you on the driver’s side. Wildly driving back to his place to get you fucking stuffed

“You’re driving me insane, bitch. Did you fucking curse me?”

“I did, every dick that enters this sweet pussy, plastic or meat, gets obsessed.”

“Don’t talk like that, making me more horny.”

“I’m sure your hand can help you, guapo.”

“My hand? Are you kidding me? You put that dress on, that looks more like a fucking t-shirt, to come see me and then you leave me with my hand? No, fucking whore You’re giving me your mouth. I have to wipe that smug smile and that boy’s taste off your lips. So suck, vicious little bitch.” So you did, with the loudest and a porn-like moan you quickly undid his briefs pulling his cock out, sucking the tip first.

“Daddy, the lollipop yesterday got me thinking so much about your cock. I couldn’t wait to taste you like this again.” He grabbed you by the hair at the red light, roughly pulling you up to met his face, yours pleasure filled, with drool over your chin, the same that had dirtied his pants.

“You fucking slut, were you just drilling me up to make me get rough on you?”

“No daddy, I did fuck the boy. That was yesterday morning, and then yesterday night I found a little time to think about you.”

“Yeah? Now all you're gonna have in your head and your mouth is me.” He shoved his cock deep into you, and when you gagged he pushed himself further and kept you there. “”Breathe, make this nice for me. I know you can do it.” You could, you enjoyed this so much, your paties were drenched. And what would he do when he notices you weren't wearing the pair he bought for you. Hopefully, break you. You started moving your hips, moving some friction in your pussy, and tastefully wiggling your ass for Ransom to admire.

“That’s right, cumslut. I'll make your ass fire up later too.”

📷

You screamed sensually when he hit your ass. You were on all fours, head down ass up, exposed to Ransom. He was filming your glistening pussy and your delicious ass that bounced on his torso asking for more pain. Delicious pain.

“I’m gonna break you with my cock baby. But after you ask nicely. Your followers want to know what a whore you are.”

“Such a whore! I want your dick papi, you fuck me so good. I want you to leave me braindead, drooling, filled. Please, please, please papi. Cogeme, fuck me. Te tengo muchas ganas.” You whined so hard, so annoyingly empty and desperate.

“What a good girl, making daddy so happy. Here you go, cunt.” He put one hand on your ass and thrusted into you aggressively. He positioned the camera to capture your joy filled face and his hips slamming in you. He didn’t stop nor slowed down, and started rubbing your clit to make you man loader, and you started to move back against him.

“You’re such a greedy little girl, you want all of me. ‘Cmon, give it to me now.”

“Ah!” You opened your mouth in a silent scream when you came, wetting him with your fluids.

And he quickly turned you around, on your back with your legs spread to search for his own high. But you were so sensible you started to close your legs and tried to squirm away from him. But he grabbed your face and spit on your cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare pushe me away. You take it. Open your fucking legs. Open them wide.” You did, and he used you like a doll, with your mind swimming in pleasure, in his gorans in your ears and his hair caressing your face. He came, pushing himself against you and spilling into the condom. He moved away from you and grabbed the camera, turning it off. Then you were gonna edit the video a little bit, cropping some parts to upload to twitter and the full part you were gonna send it to your special subscribers. You gathered yourself, going to the bathroom to wash yourself a little bit, and coming with a cigarette in your mouth, already lit. You threw yourself on the bed.

“We… We have to stop doing this.” Ransom turned himself to you, taking the cigarette out of your hand and smoking it.

“Baby, you say that everytime. And then you do shit like today.”

“I know. But it’s different now, Hugh.”

“What the fuck you calling me that for?”

“‘Cause I got a new job. Lisa’s personal assistant. And I don’t intend to be higher than all the employees you ask to call you that and then go ahead and disrespect them.”

“You don’t have to work for shit, baby. I’ll pay everything for you. You just keep making those videos and the rest is on me”

“What? Like a sugar daddy? No jodás.” You grabbed another cigarette for yourself, so this dipshit wouldn’t take it away from you

“I mean it baby, I can give you the world, just let me”

“I already have the world papito, and I got it all on my own.” He hummed, and his eyes lit up when you called him ‘daddy’ in spanish, in this intimacy. With your body still displayed for him, through which he roamed his eyes in.

“Papito?” He repeated with an accent. “Maybe I can make a mama out of you....” He burned the cigarette out and took yours off too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You complained in a moan when he turned you around, on your belly with your hands by your head and his entire muscular, heavy and warm body sprayed out on you. He then pushed deep into you.

“Get off me, Ransom.” You complained in a gasp.

“But I’m so deep ‘side you... I just have to get this shit off me to fill you up.“ He still had his condom on, but he hurriedly got it off and dived inside you again.

“What?! Don’t you dare. Get. The hell. Off.”

“Don’t lie to me princess, you want me to fill this pussy. You’ll be a fucking queen, in my arms, being spoiled with my money. I’ll take care of you and all the kids you’re gonna give me.”

“Ransom…” Your accent was spilling, and your resistance was getting away from you, his words and promises stained in your brain. “Fucking dick.”

“Nobody takes me like you, gripping me like that. You’re just a whore for me, ain’t you? Want all of me.”

“Ah, Ransom, you’re so deep.” You whined, your belly contracting.

“What do you want, honey? I wanna hear you beg for it”

“I-- Please Ransom. Please, please, please llename. Por favor, papi!” You moaned when he started pushing into you again. Last round had been intense and you had little break, so naturally you didn’t last long. You came screaming Ransom’s name, free to do so without a camera in front of you. And he was so close too, his mind winded up with getting you pregnant, with images of your belly full, your tasty breasts with all the milk he was gonna drink. He was goraning so much, your pussy grabbing him so hard, pushing him farther inside of you.

“Are you gonna be a good mama for me?”

“The best, daddy! Just please, please fill me.” And he did, with the loudest groan. To then turn you around and start admiring your tits, your body, getting inside your head with compliments of the mommy you were gonna be. And all the videos you were gonna make with your horniness, with your huge titis and that round belly. How he wanted to cover you in cum and get it on camera to show that you were his, cause getting you pregnant just wasn’t enough. And after that, he went down to eat his leaking cum out of you and prepared you for the next round.

#ransom drysdale smut #ransom drydale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans image #latina!reader

[mochisdoll]

Lying While Confessing

Feat: Atsumu

If anyone was ever wondering how I deal with crushes, it’s like this: blatantly denying them to the point of being rude

He took a breath and spoke. “Do you like me?”

And an alarm went off in your head. “Tch, no. Where the fuck did you hear that?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Whatever, I’ve gotta go get ready for practice.”

As soon as he was out of sight you dropped into a crouch and put your head in your hands.

“Ok, the hell was that?”

Your head shot up to see someone peeking around the tree you were crouched in front of.

“Osamu, you scared the shit out of me.”

Osamu moved out from behind the tree. “Why the fuck did you say that?”

“You heard that?? I said that because it’s true, I don’t like him. Why else?”

“Because you obviously do like him.” Another voice said.

“Suna? How many people are behind that tree??”

Suna moved directly in front of you, peering down at you, waiting for an respond.

“If I let him know that I like him, it’ll give him power over me. He’ll use it against me and tease me. It will only inflate his ego.”

“He won’t do that since he likes you.” Osamu told you.

“Why would someone who likes me, ask me if I like him without confessing first? Seems more like he thinks I like him and wanted to know if it was true.”

“Someone who is also dumb, and doesn’t want to let the other know that they like them if they don’t know that it’ll be returned.” Suna joined in.

You sighed and looked at both of them. “So, he really does like me?”

You stared into Osamu’s eyes to try to find some reason to not believe him. You couldn’t find one.

“Well, shit. What do I do?”

“Stop being a pussy.” Suna said flagrantly.

You smacked his arm. “Don’t be a bitch, or I’ll drag this out for longer.”

You turned your back to them and took in a deep breath. “Wish me luck.”

Atsumu wasn’t someone who was easy to be around. And he did do that somewhat purposefully. But neither were you.

With a tongue laced with poison, some people had a hard time getting to know you well, when you did your best to keep people at arms length.

You found something similar in Atsumu, which made it easier for you to understand him and find camaraderie with him.

You had known of your feelings for him for a while, and maybe thought he might feel something for you as well, but kept those thoughts at the back of your mind. Getting rejected by him seemed like a fate almost worse than death. But the temptation of him feeling the same way was not so easily ignored.

When you walked into the volleyball gym, Atsumu was already there, warming up before practice even started with serves. He stared at the other side of the court with a grouchy pout.

Right as he went in for another serve, you called his name loudly. The ball soared over the net and out of bounds.

His head snapped in your direction and he called out your name angrily. “That was gonna be a good one too!”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. C’mere blondy, I have something I forgot to tell you.”

Atsumu grumbled under his breath and trudged towards you. You took him a bit of a ways away from the gym to make sure no one listened in this time.

“Why did ya need to pull me all the way out here?”

“Cause this is only between me and you.” You inhaled before deciding to just rip of the bandaid. “I lied earlier. I do like you.”

As he listened, you watched as a smirk spread across his face. Dread filled your chest, hoping it wasn’t going to turn out exactly the way you expected.

Seeing Suna peeking out from behind a building with his phone only made the dread deepen.

“I knew it! You do!”

Atsumu fist pumped and you felt your lifespan shorten.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’ve gotta go if that’s all you’re gonna say.” You turned your back to him, ready to leave after being humiliated.

“Wait, wait! I wasn’t done.” He pulled you by the arm to make you face him. You came face to face with a grinning Atsumu. “I like ya too.”

“Oh thank god. I was fully prepared to never talk to you again.” You sighed, slumping onto Atsumu’s shoulder.

His hand came up to rub your head. “Don’t do that. It’d hurt me way to bad.”

You peered up at him. You smiled softly, seeing his love struck look. “I won’t.”

“After practice, I’ll come ta your place? We can watch a movie, or just talk, or get something to eat, or just anything?”

You nodded and pulled away from him. “Sounds good, see ya.”

You lean up kiss his cheek, pausing before pulling away. “Also, I’ll be sneaking into the locker room and deleting everything from Suna’s phone.”

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu #miya atsumu #atsumu drabble #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu fluff #fluff #slight crack #slight cursing

[sourholland]

A Royal Convenience || Tom Holland

| Series Masterlist |

Part Seven

Summary → When an alliance is made between England and France, you are sent away to marry the crown prince and heir to the British throne. Except both you and Prince Thomas despise each other at all odds, subjected to the hand of the monarchy and unable to stand each other.

AN → So this chapter could potentially be a bit triggering for some people, it is pretty descriptive into the beheading of someone. I would like to preface this in saying that I do not support capital punishment, nor do I support the death penalty. This is merely a work of fiction, and I am only trying to bring to life history. Anyways, this chapter is something else. Let me know what you guys think, I’m sure you’ll have some thoughts.

Pairing(s) → Prince!Tom x Princess!Reader

Warnings → Angst, Beheading - Descriptive, Blood, Vomit - Descriptive, Light Smut, Choking Kink, Alcohol, Language, Intended Oral Sex - Female Receiving, Knife Play

Word Count → 4.5k

“I want to leave, please just let me go home,” you pleaded.

It was only you and Tom at the heart of the throne room. After the whole shooting ordeal, he’d rushed you back and demanded the audience of the King.

You were both waiting, still suffering from the shakes, you could only beg and pray that he would let you go. Tears stung the backs of your eyes, cheeks hot and feverish. Tom had sent all of the guards away, not caring that it wasn’t proper for you both to be alone without a chaperone.

“Please, Tom,” you almost whispered.

“You can’t go home, Y/N,” he replied simply, peering over at you from his spot parallel to where you stood.

“I was just shot at! What more could you people want to see in order to let me go home? I miss my mother, I wish to see my mother,” you shouted at him.

“I couldn’t let you go even if I wanted to.”

“But you do want to?”

Silence. Tom said nothing. He only straightened his posture a bit, looking away from you and back to the door. The King had still not come, there had been an attempted assassination and the King of England could not be bothered to grace his own son with his presence.

“This is why I told them to take you back to your chambers,” he murmured to himself.

“You can hardly look at me!” You marched up to him, taking a free hand and pressing it to his chest in anger and frustration. “Look at me, Thomas.”

His eyes slowly lifted from the ground to your eyes, your breath staggering from the rage and sudden proximity. There was an intimacy in the way you both seemed to get yourselves into these situations. It was a change for you to initiate something like this, especially since anyone could come through those large double doors at any point.

“Please,” you begged.

“You don’t get it do you?” He asked, eyes falling to the dip of your lips, parting at the curve of your Cupid’s bow. “You and I, we haven’t got a way out of this. It’s for life, Y/N. There is no running, not really. Don’t you think I’m tired? This life is exhausting, but it’s bigger than both of us. There’s no out, no going home. The sooner you accept that, the sooner this’ll all become a lot easier for you.”

“I hope you’re saying that when our heads, or God forbid, the heads of our children—”

The doors opened and King Dominic and his entourage came through, there was hardly any urgency in the way he walked. You and Tom quickly stepped away from each other, he stood taller, bowing as his father sat. You gave a quick and anxious curtsy.

“You’ve clearly been quite busy, I didn’t expect an act of high treason to pull you away from whatever important engagement you were wasting your time with,” Tom scowled.

“Do watch yourself, Thomas,” the King responded.

“Did you not hear about the man who attempted to put a bullet through my skull?” He question, tone raising.

“From what I’ve heard, the bullet was directed towards Princess Y/N, meaning this was hardly even an attack on the Crown.”

“She is the Crown! We’re to be wed in less than three weeks, she’s practically the Princess of Wales already!”

You stood in silence, wondering whether or not you should step in. Tom told you to go back to your wing of Buckingham Palace when you’d both come back, but you refused. He was shifting uncomfortably under his father’s intense gaze.

“Maybe so, but not yet. I’ll have the bastard’s head, hell, you can even watch if you’d like. I won’t cause an uproar within the country, this is far from the first attempted assassination of the Crown, nor will it be the last,” the King boomed.

“What if that bullet had landed between my eyes, my head blown apart within seconds? What would you have done then?” Tom asked him, brows furrowed.

“You have three brothers, one of which would probably do the job better than you,” he responded, coughing into the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket.

You took in a sharp breath, wondering how any decent person could say such a thing. Tom stiffened, his lips forming a fine line. There was something lacking between the two men, you hadn’t seen it before, but now it was clear as day. There was absolutely no love, no compassion. You were staring at a King and his successor.

“That’s an awful thing to say,” you finally said.

“Don’t, Y/N,” Tom leaned over to you.

King Dominic’s eyes scanned over you, eyes flickering from you to Tom. The room was almost silent, the ruffling of your dress pooling at your feet filling the air.

“You are quite a pretty little thing,” he mused. “Shame, you know? That you have no clue when to keep that mouth shut.”

“And why is that?” You asked him, stepping forward.

“If you hadn’t been brought here from France, I’m not sure you’d have been very popular among suitors.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t exist to cater to anyone’s domestic pursuits, isn’t it?”

Your gaze did not falter, King Dominic’s eyes piercing your own. He was dressed in fine satin, but this did not distract you from the fact that there were deep purple crescent shapes, littered in purple and indigo underneath his eyes. The King’s sallow skin was discolored against his sunken in eyes, and downturned mouth.

“She’ll bear witness to the beheading,” King Dominic remarked, pushing up against his throne to stand.

“What?” Tom asked very suddenly, stepping in front of his father. “She’s eighteen, practically a child! You cannot expect her to watch something like that!” He shouted, waiting for his father to let go of his pride.

“If she can stand before me—acting as if she is King, and not I, she can watch the man you ordered to die be executed.”

Tom went to argue, but was met with his father’s hand held high in his wake. He slumped back in defeat, sighing as the King turned in front of him. There was hardly anything you thought he could say, and nearly nothing he could do.

You let out a shaky breath, holding your abdomen with a free hand. There was nothing you wanted more than to be in your mother’s arms, or to sleep in your old bed. Yet, you stood in the throne room of Buckingham Palace, having just been shot at and conspired against.

“The Tower of London. Tomorrow.”

This was all he said, turning his back to both of you and walking off. Tom said nothing, not until a man came in after his father had left and leaned into his ear, an unreadable expression passing over his face.

“He was Danish?” He asked the unfamiliar man.

“Yes, sir. I am sure of it, it is all we were able to get out of him.”

“Leave us,” Tom motioned towards the door.

As the man left, he turned to you with a look as set as stone. He was upset, yet somber at the same time. Something about the way he was staring at you left the hairs at the nape of your neck standing up. You couldn’t help but step forward, feeling the need to steady yourself.

“Do you remember when the Prince from Denmark and I had a row?”

“I would hardly classify that as a row, you are still battered from hitting him so hard. When I saw him today, his face looked worse than it had that night,” you said.

“Y/N, you have no reason to listen to me, or to trust anything I say, but please heed my words, do not engage with Nikolai again. I cannot stress—”

“Is this what you do now? Tell me whom I can and cannot see. I have nothing, Tom! My life has been seized from me, and now I cannot even dictate who I see?”

Tom’s hand just barely brushed your own, his head bent to look directly into your eyes. There was an urgency in them, something telling you that this was bigger than both of you. You remembered the way he had held you down when those shots were fired, and the way he held your hand.

“You’re right—about all of it. I am asking you, Y/N, not as the Prince of Wales, or even as Thomas. I’m asking you as your husband, as the man you have been dealt in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Please, just stay away from him until I can be sure of something. This is all I ask of you, and even then, I deserve nothing from you. So in this moment, right now, you and I are not the next King and Queen of England. We are simply a man and a woman, nothing else.”

His words came out pleadingly, his fingers curling around your wrist. The pad of his thumb dipped underneath your glove. The skin on skin contact made you shiver, wondering whether or not Tom was being serious in his words. Nonetheless, you nodded feverishly, feeling him let out a deep breath of relief.

-

The carriage ride and walk into the large and extremely ancient looking castle, seemed to blur together. You were dressed darkly, a short veil covering your face in an almost sheer material.

Tom was beside you, his hand lightly cupping your elbow as the both of you entered the large room at what felt like the heart of the Tower of London. Prince Harry and Prince Sam followed closely behind the both of you, the King in front.

Everyone parted as you all made your way through the crowd of Nobles. You learned that the man’s name was Sir Alfred, and his title was the reason he was to be executed in such a manner. It also contributed to the fact that his beheading was occurring in such a prestigious place. Many famous executions took place in the same location, you had heard of many of the people who had lost their heads in the same position.

At the front of the room there was a high block on top of a sort of wooden stage, an executioner standing off to the side with an axe in his right hand. You couldn’t fathom the idea of having to do what he was only minutes away from doing himself.

Tom looked like he wished to say something, but in the end stayed completely silent. You were all completely sectioned away from everyone else, standing to witness the man about to die for his crimes.

In he walked a moment later, he wore a baggy black tunic and a cross around his neck. His head was down, eyes on the floor. When he came through the archway and into the large room, you couldn’t help but feel a lurch in your stomach. He denied the man who asked if he wished to say anything before he placed his head at the high block.

You felt your hands begin to clam up, wringing them against your dress. The man stood in prayer for a moment, a single tear falling from his eye. He mouthed a few words and took his place, bringing to cross to his chapped lips, and placing a single kiss upon it.

“Help me, God.”

His words were enough to make you sick, watching as he bent forward on his knees. His head sat firmly on the block, the man holding the axe waiting patiently. Someone said something in the distance, but your ears were pounding.

The moment the blade raised, you fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. It came down in a thud, a loud noise coming from the mouth of the man. A splatter of blood came soon after, his head was still intact. The blade raised again, and it struck once more. This continued another time, until at last, Alfred’s limp body had fallen.

You tasted acid, biting your tongue as you pushed through the cluster of people and looked for any exit. There was a single stone passage leading to a bit of land outside, you had no clue how you had gotten there. In a fleeting moment, you felt yourself hunch over and begin to empty the contents of your stomach onto the ground.

You felt a pair of hands grasp at the bit of hair falling into your face as you heaved, holding your chest firmly. You willed yourself to stop, but bent once more. Your throat burned, tears prickling the backs of your eyes.

“Are you—”

“No, no—I am absolutely not alright,” you just barely got out. “I’ll be in the carriage.”

-

You spent both of the following days in your quarters, claiming ill to all of those who asked. Dinner had been brought to you each night, and every other meal left for you as well. You couldn’t decipher whether you were doing it out of spite, or pure hatred for the establishment you were marrying into in less than three weeks.

A small portion of it may have also been out of fear, the thought of even being out and about sent a shockwave up your spine. Every time someone rapped on your chamber door, you couldn’t help but flinch.

On the morning of the second day you’d isolated yourself, the Queen sent word that the ball she’d arranged was still to be attended. You couldn’t help but groan at the man she’d sent to deliver the message. You had absolutely no desire to make an appearance at a dance, especially after the past few days.

It was only hours later when Anne pushed through the double doors to your room, sending all of the other servants away in a simple hand motion. You furrowed your brows at her, holding onto the bedpost, corset left loose and undone. She looked as if she had seen a ghost, clutching the underside of her dress.

“Your grace,” she curtsied quickly.

“Anne, is everything alright?”

There was a pause, she brought a small brown bag out from under the cloth of her brown dress. She undid the clasp gently and pulled out a dagger, extending her hand to give it to you. With it came a sheath and what looked like two leather bound straps.

“I have reason to believe someone is dangerous, ma’am. I—well, I wanted to be sure you would be able to defend yourself, should something present itself tonight,” she said shakily.

“Oh, Anne. Where did you get this?” You asked, placing a hand on the blade.

“A stable boy offered it to me at a fair price, I just wanted to be sure you’d have some sort of defense. If you don’t want it—”

“No, no! I’m terribly grateful, I just haven’t a clue how to properly handle something like this.”

There had been very little swordplay taught when you were being instructed to be the ruler of a country, and even less as you grew into a young Princess. You handled horseback riding, language study, arithmetic, and learning the duties of a sovereign.

Anne took a few moments to show you how to hold the knife, and then flipped up your undergarments to have access to your thigh. She strapped the leather bindings to it gently, the sheath sticking to you as she slid in the dagger. You felt nervous, knowing you were armed underneath all of the layers. Yet, something about it made you feel safer.

A while later, she brought all of the servants back in and they began to dress you. By the time you had finished, you stared into the full length mirror at the entirety of the velvety looking gown. It was a deep red color, with a dipping neckline that left your shoulders and collarbones exposed underneath the candlelight.

You opted for a more bold choice in tiara, ditching your family heirloom and going for a fringed tiara that dated farther back than you could guess within the British royal family. It was littered in diamonds and went well with the dress, watching as the material swished at your feet.

“I must say, this is one of my favorite dresses you’ve worn so far,” one of the lady servants murmured.

“His Royal Highness, Prince Thomas of Wales,” announced a man, almost out of nowhere.

You watched as the doors opened, the guard member stiff and standing tall. Tom rolled his eyes, wishing his entrance had not just been broadcasted so generously. Though, he was far too used to it by now to say a thing. It really had been quite unnecessary, but it was clear that the young man was quite new.

“Princess,” he greeted.

You turned, meeting his eyes and watching as he swallowed hard, eyes dipping to the curve of your bosom, and curl of your gloved hands. He was dressed in his usual formal ball attire, blinking a few times and noticing the way you moved to sit.

A diamond necklace laid untouched, sitting prettily on your vanity. He sent a nod to each of the women crowding you, watching as they fled the room. You peered over your shoulder, almost immediately seeing him lift up the heavily studded jewel. It was cold against your bare skin, but his hands were warm as he fiddled with the clasp at the back of your neck.

You gazed into the mirror, watching his determined eyes work their way around your shoulders and spine. Just as you felt the necklace sit comfortably, his fingers lingered for a moment, the brush of a knuckle against the divot of the arch of your neck.

“There,” he said. “Now—we should probably be going.”

His words came out breathlessly, turning around quickly and looking away. You couldn’t help but let out the wisp of a breath yourself, feeling the heat flush to your face. The trace of his touch remained on your skin, the thud of your heart quickening as soon as you took his arm.

The short walk to the ballroom was mostly silent, only breaking when you would make a mindless comment, making him reply with a crude remark. You felt a pull in your gut, like you wanted to despise him more than anything. Most of the time you were together, that was all it was, disdain. Though, in passing moments, you couldn’t help letting your guard down.

These thoughts rapidly halted when you both entered the large familiar room. You both made your rounds, greeting the guests and embracing family, his family. Soon after, you watched Tom step to the side and reach for a bottle of what you could only guess was brandy.

“A dance?”

This was a phrase you heard dozens of times throughout the night, men after men swinging and swishing you around the floor. Some of which left you drowning in your own boredom, others capable of making you smile and laugh. There was no sign of Nikolai, this was odd to you.

Tom sat at the edge of the room, elbows sat on his knees while he drank himself to death. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, curls falling into his eyes. The most peculiar thing was the way he watched you, the way he would be able to speak and converse, yet still make sure to flicker his gaze back to you.

The dagger at your thigh made you feel a bit less helpless, like you had a bit of leverage. Though, the night quickly faded and everything was turning out to be incredibly mundane. Nothing was seemingly out of the ordinary, and when you took your out, a feeling of relief washed over you.

Your soft steps sounded as you made your way back to your chambers. It was easy for you to find the right moment to claim you were tired, and needed to retire to your bed for the night. Tom had left you for the entirety of the night, keeping to himself for the most part.

You grasped the brass handle, pulling it open to reveal a room full of servants meant to help you undress. You bid them all a goodnight and promised you could do it on your own, wishing to be alone. When the last of them departed, you lifted the tiara from your hair, unclasping the necklace and placing both of the priceless items on the wood of the table.

You heard the rattle of the door a second later, asking who was there. No response. You felt your pulse quicken, lifting up the skirts of your dress and pulling at the handle of the knife. You took a few paces backwards, jumping when you realized it was only Tom. His back faced you as he closed the door quietly, throwing his hands up when he turned to see you, dagger in hand.

“Y/N—put down the knife,” he said cautiously.

You hadn’t a clue why you were still holding it in a position like you planned to stab someone. The adrenaline, perhaps. Tom approached you slowly, making your head swim with thoughts. Some part of you was wondering why you hadn’t dropped your hand, and the other was telling you to stay just as you were. He was just as bad as any other man you’d encountered, wasn’t he?

“Give me the knife,” he held a hand out. “Just let me see it.”

“You’re drunk,” you muttered, smelling the alcohol on him.

“You truly do know how to sober a man up, though, don’t you?” He laughed.

There was something mocking about his words, like he knew you wouldn’t do anything. This set something off inside of you, that feeling in your chest only grew when you took the opportunity to step forward and act as if you were going to pass the dagger off to him. When he extended his palm, you pulled his wrist forward and did your best to slam his back against the nearest wall. Your right hand, firmly grasping the hilt of the blade, rapidly meeting his neck. You pressed it into his exposed skin, watching his pupils dilate.

“Feeling sober?” You asked, masking any bit of anxiety.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

You felt the beat of his heart through his shirt, pressing deeper. This earned a shocked wince, making you take in a deep breath yourself. His expression was surprisingly calm compared to your own, making it even more difficult to grasp when he flipped the both of you very out of the blue. His significantly larger hand had flawlessly brought the dagger from your white knuckled fingers, and into his own.

You felt the cold blade against your hot skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive spot below your ear. Your chest constricted, never having been this close to him before. You could smell the mix of brandy and whisky on him, wondering if he could sense how fast your heart was beating.

“Quick. Just not quick enough,” he teased lowly.

Something about this position made you almost melt, just now noticing how dry your mouth had become. Tom’s head turned to look into your eyes, making you practically jump. There was something so intimate in the way he was looking at you, something so personal.

“God, you truly have no clue about the things you do to me,” his drunken words seemed to spill out.

“Don’t I?” You asked, feeling his free fingers slide against the skin of your jaw. “You despise me, hate me even.”

“I wish I hated you.”

These were the last words spoken between the two of you before the space between both of you was filled. Firm, but warm lips were being pressed onto your own. With hardly a second to react, you felt your hand slide up the fabric of his clothed shoulder and to the nape of his neck. Your fingers threaded themselves into his hair, tugging harshly as he kissed you harder.

You arched your back against the hard surface you were pressed at, listening to the clatter of the knife against the floor in the night. His now freed hand found your neck, gently curling around it and squeezing. The euphoric feeling sent a wave of pleasure down your back, a single whimper passing between your conjoined lips.

“Tell me you hate me,” he whispered to you, breaking away for only a moment.

“I hate you,” you kissed him. “I hate you,” you kissed him again. “God, I hate you right now.”

One of his hands remained around your neck, the other sliding down to your waist and flipping you around. His nimble fingers played with the buttons at the back of your dress, pressing sloppy kissed against your neck and throat. Once the dress fell to your ankles, he pulled several layers over your head. Before you could even get to unlacing the corset, his heavily ringed hands twisted into it, ripping it straight down the back.

You were left in almost nothing, a thin article of clothing covering you. His hand brought itself to your breast, kneading at the almost completely exposed skin. You let out a repressed moan as he cupped the swelling of your chest.

“Is this okay?” He asked between wet kisses, trailing generously down your collarbone.

“Yes,” you hardly got out.

He nodded against you, lips brushing the skin above the neck of your underdress. It slid down, exposing the tops of your breasts. His head dipped, tongue trailing behind, leaving goosebumps along your feverish chest. He bit gently, leaving you to pant as you felt his hand slide up your calf and onto your thigh, he undid the holster, listening to it fall to the floor.

Before you could even truly think, you were being placed on top of one of the wooden surfaces of your bedroom. Tom was on his knees, pulling your ankle to him lips and pressing a kiss to the skin. This continued up to your knee, nearing closer and closer to your aching core. His touch was like fire, spreading through your whole body.

Movement outside of your chambers made you stiffen, Tom sat up immediately. The sound repeated itself and you were both scrambling to get away from each other. Your discarded clothes littered the floor, corset ripped down the middle. Tom was clearly disheveled, but mostly dressed. You began to realize the extent of what you both had done.

You grabbed at a few of the pieces of fabric, finally looking up and meeting his eyes. You both stared at each other for a moment, and without a word, Tom slipped out the door and into the night.

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