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#there is no real evidence for it but i feel like everything I've said and done the past few days has been awful and wrong and mistakes ough
dandyshucks · 2 months
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praying that this one artist i watch livestream doesn't ever look at my chat history bc i feel like I look really weird through it 😭 I have immense anxiety among other issues so I'll usually only manage to work up the nerve to send One (1) random msg in chat at some point during a stream and then immediately feel like I have done smth terribly wrong (even if I am just agreeing with everyone else in chat ???) and not be able to send anything else the entire rest of the stream
so my message history would just be like... one completely random comment per stream and nothing else and I feel like that probably looks really really strange fjfkdl
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OMFG THIS COMMENT. GUISE. THAT LAST SENTENCE IS SO FUCKING RAW
edit: i see a lot of people arguing over the 'eat the rich' thing and i'd like to clear up my standing currently! i know they aren't the same kind of fancy multi-million corporation that our beloved phrase talks about, and the reason i agree to a point with this comment is that watcher is evidently trying to become that. they're doing some shitty things in regards do disregarding poorer fans, and are seemingly blatantly ignoring the economic crisis by saying 'everyone can afford that!', all in direct contrast to their entire branding of being leftist and openly supporting things like eat the rich.
"You said 'eat the rich' then handed us the forks, laid on the plate, and expected us to spare you?" at least from my understanding isn't flat-out saying watcher are now the rich we eat, but are well on the track to becoming so, and are quickly developing the same ego.
BUT!! don't like people directly hating on steven like that!! they're all grown men who can make their own decisions, and pretending like shane and ryan are out little baby beans and then calling steven evil and whatnot isn't okay. they can all be held equally accountable. though i do somewhat understand being the most disappointed in shane, as he's the one who speaks on shit like eating the rich the most, and is generally more outward with his ideals, so it's perfectly reasonable to feel betrayed more deeply. but bottom line is they're all equally accountable for this decision.
some shit we can't take back. i probably got pissed and said some weird/uncool shit initially because of the intense emotions i was dealing with, which other people amplified. i do regret some of the things i've said to a point when it comes to being hateful, but i can't just un-say it all, so i'm not even going to try. i'm going to leave everything be and allow it to serve as something to look back on for what not to do in future circumstances. while this new path for watcher is, in my opinion, not the smartest and generally really shitty, they're human beings who make mistakes, and they deserve our acknowledgement of that.
in short, i don't like it but i'll stop being a bitch about it because they don't deserve that. also sorry for the wall of (probably incoherent lmao) text i got passionate <3
edit 2: guys. im screaming. the apology was amazing imo and i genuinely think they really mean it, like it doesn't seem bullshitted. i think they realized they fucked up for reals and feel bad. im so happy for them, but also for us as fans. yay :D
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bluegiragi · 13 days
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I hate to ask this cause it feels stupid but I dont wanna do a bunch of research on whatever the recent cod mw fandom discourse is,
but I saw the reblog of someone accusing you of supporting people who write sexualized pedophilia and that really is personally my only """"moral"""" with nsfw shit, (I'm a patreon subscriber and ig I just wanna know where my money's going) is THAT true?
this is such a never-ending nightmare.
i used to follow an artist who, 5-6 months ago made racist art featuring gaz in a slave context, which I didn't like, retweet or interact with in any way. they also made under-age art of ghost soap, which I also didn't interact with . people on twitter called me out yesterday, for retweeting art they'd made as evidence I stood by/encouraged/was an avid fan of all these tropes. Also, the art I retweeted wasn't either of these previous examples of art, but one where ghost and soap were sleeping in a bed together, as adults, peacefully. I can't emphasise enough that I have not interacted with this artist at all, for literally six months.
genuinely, my only crime is not unfollowing + blocking this artist earlier on, and then daring to retweet a fic tagged with "non-con" (ghost gets soap off in a context where he can't really properly consent, they're in front of a crowd of strangers and they have to fuck, but both parties are into each other) written by a friend as I wanted to support their writing.
and now i have pedophile claims because I accidentally retweeted a fandom bingo post that defended loli-con, and then immediately un-retweeted it when I properly read it.
And people are calling me a zoophile for supporting someone who wrote zoophilic fic and called people slurs (???) and I genuinely don't know who they're talking about there.
And the same people called me racist for making Horangi's eyes in the monster!AU sensitive because they thought I was making fun of Asian eyes. The real reason is because he's a cat hybrid and cats are sensitive to light (and I'm Chinese).
I tried addressing all this in a simpler way earlier on, and responded to an ask talking about my "support" for the artist who drew the slave Gaz art by saying the fanart in question was tone deaf and in poor taste. It wasn't enough for some people, so I'm happy to say it again - yes, it was racist, and the reason why I didn't want to be more aggressive is because I didn't want to extend all this mess by throwing this artist under the bus - I genuinely believed them when they said that wasn't that their intention, and think they should've deleted the post at the time.
And also I'm now called a rapist bc I like to entertain fics with dom/sub dynamics that dip into cnc, as an asexual woman who's personally repulsed by sex when it comes to myself.
That's everything so far. I really don't know what you people want from me anymore. I followed the wrong artist. I retweeted the wrong post. And I've undid those actions now. And for so many people to have taken literally everything spread by these people at face value, without even checking if their claims are true, is incredibly hurtful and isolating.
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imminent-danger-came · 10 months
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Sun Wukong Knew About MK the Whole Time: A Theory
I am currently hyped up on leftovers and iced coffee, so let's do this!
I've talked about this before, here and here, but I think it's finally time I wrote an official post. You can go and read those posts if you want to (I definitely hit the nail on the head with some of this stuff), but I will be compiling a lot of what I said on those posts here!
So. Let's get the Mr. Elephant out of the room first: The David Breen Tweets. (thread here).
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I see this tweet mentioned a lot whenever I bring up SWK knowing about MK, and honestly, this is a far cry from the "it's been confirmed that SWK didn't know" definite answer everyone's been implying.
So let's break it down!
#1: "Monkey King ain't the father"/"Monkey King isn't his dad." Well of course! Being born from a stone means you don't have any parents. I see it like this: Wukong isn't MK's dad, but he's also not NOT MK's dad, it's a secret third thing (creator and creation). Or, perhaps Wukong didn't help create MK at all, but he at the very least was involved in the circumstances that lead to MK being created/being born from the stone. (Aka eldritch abomination MK theory. My Beloved. Okay sorry.)
#2: "Monkey King was ripping his way through memories looking for MK, but kept coming back to the stone. He doesn't know why." So, while Wukong was ripping through memories, he didn't know why the scroll kept spitting him out by the stone. This is not a confirmation that Wukong didn't know about MK and his origins. It also begs the question: how did Wukong know MK was in the scroll to begin with? There's also some speculation to be had about why Wukong was so desperate to find MK to begin with:
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MK: "Monkey King did this?" Macaque: "It looks like he's been tearing his way through his past—trying to find his way to.." MK: "Me."
(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)
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What was he so afraid of MK finding? Or, what was he afraid the scroll would force MK to experience? I think these are questions worth asking.
#3: "Wukong's trying real hard to leave the 'not being open with MK' days behind after s3. Problem is he's got lifetimes of info to catch them up on." Well, this one is a DOOZIE. One: we already know MK doesn't know everything about Wukong and his choices because he doesn't know Wukong killed Macaque (thank you 4x11). Two: "trying real hard" and "successfully doing" are very different things. And three: YOU DON'T JUST DROP INFO LIKE "Hey, did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" ON TOP OF SOMEONE RANDOMLY. Especially not MK. You have to prepare them for it.
Wukong is trying to do better and be better for everyone around him, but that still takes work. That still isn't easy. He's still going to make mistakes, which means he's not going to always go about being open with MK in the best way.
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Sun Wukong: “Point is, mistakes happen, but so long as you leave the world in better shape than you found it, then it’s all good. Right?”
(4x01 Familiar Tales)
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This scene—to me—feels like Wukong is trying prepare MK for his eventual "Hey did you know you're a Monkey Demon?" conversation he wants (and needs) to have down the line. Yes, SWK is trying to be more open with MK, but he's also just not going to be given that chance before the truth comes out.
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MK: "Yeah right, if Monkey King really was my dad don't you think he would have said something by now?" Mei: "Yeah...because he's normally SOOOOO forth coming with information." MK: "Well uh, whatever—when we find Monkey King's stone, then we'll just ask him!"
(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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Notice how they never asked Monkey King that question? From a writing standpoint, why bring this up at all if it wasn't to imply that (even if Monkey King isn't MK's dad) he wasn't involved with MK's creation in some way?
ANYWAYS.
NOW THAT THE BREEN TWEET THAT HAS RUINED MY LIFE IS OUT OF THE WAY, let's get into the evidence given to us throughout the entirety of the show. Starting with this:
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This isn't a scene that takes place during the "A Hero is Born" special, as I'm sure plenty of people have noticed before now. Of course, this could have just been Monkey King "scouting out a successor", but with everything we know now doesn't that...feel kinda weird?
We were told at the beginning of the show that Monkey King gave MK his powers, but now we know that's not true. MK has had his own powers this whole time—and that's something Wukong, at the very least, knew:
Sun Wukong: "Listen kid: You fought demons, and you didn't die, and you made it here! Not just anyone can lift my staff, but you did." (1x00 A Hero is Born)
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MK: "This whole time, I thought my powers came from the staff! Sun Wukong: "The staff's just a big 'ol stick bud! It takes someone special to lift it." (3x03 Smartie Kid)
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There's also 1x09 Macaque, which I have mentioned before:
Macaque: "Ohohoh no, can't you hold the magic staff anymore? Well, you know what that means—there really isn't anything special about you. You're just a kid with a heavy stick."
This scene is then followed by MK lifting the staff, which only happens because Wukong encourages him.
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MK: "Ugh, I can't! I'm not strong enough." Sun Wukong: "Kid! We're definitely going to have words later, but it's time for the Hero Stuff!"
(1x09 Macaque)
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Ultimately, Wukong knows MK can lift the staff again even after Macaque supposedly stole all of MK's powers. He knows MK can beat DBK (more on that later). He does something similar to all this in 3x14, being the one to let MK face the Lady Bone Demon, powered by the Samadhi fire, alone (even after Pigsy tries to stop MK):
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Wukong want's to protect MK. That's why he went to face the Lady Bone Demon alone in the first place—but here, he let's MK stop the end of the world all by himself. Why would he let his beloved student face not only LBD, but a reality ending flame alone?
Because he knows how much power MK has. Because he knows MK is capable of doing it.
This all brings me to my main point: If before now we were supposed to believe that Monkey King gave MK his powers, and he so clearly didn't, how would Wukong not know he didn't give MK powers. And because he clearly knew he didn't give MK any powers, why would he not question where this kid's insane level of power came from? He had to have "chosen" MK to be his successor for a reason right?
ESPECIALLY because Wukong never planned on being a mentor in the first place:
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Sun Wukong: "I know I can never make it up to you. Honestly, I- I never thought I'd live as long as I have let alone be someone's mentor—turns out I'm not very good at it. I guess what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry MK. For all of it."
(3x14 Destiny Fulfilled)
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This was also alluded to in 3x05 Amnesia Rules:
Pigsy: "Of COURSE you don't remember the kid—one day you are going to grow up to be a terrible mentor!" Sun Wukong: "Ha! Zhu Bajie, can you imagine me teaching someone? HA!"
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So, Wukong clearly didn't ever want to become a mentor, and this directly contradicts what Wukong says to MK in "A Hero is Born":
Sun Wukong: "You're perfect!" MK: "Perfect for what?" Sun Wukong: "To be...my successor!"
Honestly, think about it: has Wukong ever once actually needed a successor? When given the opportunity, he goes off and tries to handle things on his own anyways (Leaving in s2, wanting to go and reforge the Samadhi Fire on his own, going to stop LBD alone). It's the classic "we're being told one thing and shown another" trick.
Sun Wukong: "No no no- in case you forgot I'M retired, you're the one supposed to be taking care of the bad guys." (1x01 Bad Weather)
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Even in 2x01 he's lying:
Sun Wukong: "Aw, come on bud! I promised myself that when I found a successor I'd go see some friends, take a tour of my old stomping grounds, just cut loose you know?" (2x01 Sleep bug)
It's proven in the next episode, and by the fact that all of his friends are dead/gone, that literally nothing he said here is true.
And, it's also note worthy to point out, that by this point Wukong had already disappeared for hundreds of years. Why step in again at all? Why put the effort into getting a successor you definitely were never prepared to have?
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MK: "*sigh* You think Monkey King ever felt like this? Maybe that's why he stayed up on this mountain, just having a good time with you guys. You know cause- cause he knew he'd be out of the way where he couldn't hurt anyone he cared about." Macaque: "Or, he was doing his usual Wukong thing and being a lazy peach eating idiot. Ignoring all the worlds problems.
(4x09 Roast of the Monkie Kids)
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So, I don't know about you, but I'm going to trust Macaque's insight on this. I'm not sure Wukong ever planned on coming back. Sealing DBK, he effectively cut off one of his last ties to the world (please go read wlw-wukong's thoughts, they are delightful), and he had already left the world alone for a long time. Why did he feel the need to train a successor now?
The simple answer is this: because he knew he needed to train MK and teach him to control his powers, and DBK's return was the perfect way to do it.
NOW. THE S4 MK VISIONS.
So, the visions MK see's all through out s4 (4x03, 4x04, 4x05, 4x06) are of Wukong ripping through the scroll and going to the stone—David Breen confirmed that himself in the above tweets.
Here's a list of what we see:
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(4x03 The Great Tang Man)
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(4x04 Pig Napped)
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(4x05 Court of the Yellow Robbed Demon)
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These are what I would say are the visions of Sun Wukong trying to find MK in the scroll. Yet, they are distinctly different from what Subodhi presses MK to remember ("Tell me of your childhood, your parents." "You do not remember?" "And what else?"):
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(4x06 Show Me the Monster)
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Look at that difference!
Every vision MK has includes the same scenes, except this one. That's why I think it's a memory; that and the way it's framed, with MK closing his eyes in focus. The other visions from 4x03, 4x04, and 4x05 all are unprompted, being forced upon MK. Why make this last "vision" so different from the others? Why show our mystery lady making the stone monkey? That would be because it's a memory—be it MK's, something from the scroll, or a mix of both.
There's also the matter of like, why Wukong going to the stone would trigger any sort of vision in MK to begin with. Overall, it just seems like there something more to those visions.
This would be how I imagine the general timeline playing out:
MK is created (through help of Sun Wukong), a beautiful baby boy pops out of the stone, and Sun Wukong "loses" that beautiful boy (if Wukong knew he was born to begin with) with MK finding his way to Pigsy's.
Then it's later Sun Wukong finds MK again, coming up with a plan to make MK his "successor" (still leaving MK with Pigsy, which I think was the right call lol). As Wukong says in 4x01, "You make ONE mistake, and no one ever let's you live it down! Looks like the ghosts of my past have finally caught up with me." That's what I think this parallel in particular is really trying to show off—in some way, MK is part of his past mistakes, just like Macaque is.
AND SO. I WILL CLOSE OFF THIS THEORY POST WITH EVERYTHING WE LEARNED IN THE SPECIAL.
Sun Wukong: "Heh, nothing gets under his skin more than a monkey. Leave Azure to MK and me."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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Sun Wukong: "Kinda embarrassing for the Jade Emperor to have two little cheeky monkeys running circles around him the first day on the job." MK: "Well, one monkey and one unconfirmed, but *laughs* yeah! I'd be embarrassed for sure!"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Wukong sounds suspiciously confident that MK is a monkey.
Not even MK is sure what he is (which he's probably just in denial, but also "Until I know what I am, what my destiny is?" from 4x08 anyone?), but Sun Wukong is extremely certain about what MK is.
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Sun Wukong: "We got this bud. Would have liked to give you some new training with your monkey form, but-" MK: "Oh yeah yeah yeah- uh um- about that— um. I- I was thinking, I've never really needed a scary new monkey form before, so, I just thought maybe I'd use it next time." Sun Wukong: "Next time? Kid, there might not be a next time! This is the time."
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MK: "It's be fine! Mei and I have got this awesome new armor and everything! You know, when we look this good? Ain't nothing gonna beat us." Sun Wukong: "Kid. New armor isn't going to cut it! We have to hit Azure with everything we've got! You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!"
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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If the writers were trying to highlight the fact that Wukong didn't know, this scene would have gone very differently. Instead of "You can't just ignore this whole part of your power because it scares you!" I think it would have been more along the lines of "I know this is new for all of us, but you've got to accept this part of your power!".
Even this exchange at the end of the special raises some alarm bells for me:
Pigsy: "Heh, don't bother. I've been telling him that for years but he LITERALLY never listens." Sun Wukong: "Yep! That's how we roll."
(4x14 Better Than We Found It)
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That's how "we" roll? As in him and MK, as two monkeys? Again, Wukong is surprisingly chill and okay with this new form for someone whose first interaction with it was supposedly this:
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MK, writhing on the ground in pain, completely destroying the world around him, and unable to control his powers.
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Sun Wukong: "Yeah! Go MK, go! Just try not to totally wreck up my stuff would ya-"
(4x13 Rip and Tear)
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Overall, it gives me the impression that Wukong already knew what MK was before 4x07. This new form didn't scare him because he always knew that's what MK was. MK, to Wukong, is MK! And MK has always been a Monkey Demon. He has unshakeable faith in his protege, and even while MK is absolutely tearing up the world around flower fruit mountain he can't help but cheer for him.
After all, Wukong knows MK is the only one who could defeat Azure:
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MK: "Ne Zha's right—while Azure has the Jade Emperor's power and the scroll, there's NO way we could beat him head on!" Sun Wukong: "I mean, some of us could beat him! *ahem* One of us, specifically-" MK: "Nope! None of us at all."
(4x12 The Plan Man)
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"But Imp!" I hear you say, "Wukong was talking about himself here!". To which I would reply, that's not true! This scene is right after Wukong has already said he only almost beat the Jade Emperor:
Sun Wukong: "But don't worry—I almost beat the Jade Emperor single handed once! Between both of us, Azure doesn't stand a chance." (4x12 The Plan Man)
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Between this and Wukong's pre-fight convo with MK ("We have to hit Azure with everything we've got!"), he's clearly banking on MK using the full extent of his powers to win this fight. Wukong isn't banking on his own—if he were, he would never have left MK to go and collect the scroll pieces during their fight with Azure.
Conclusion
Sun Wukong knew MK was a monkey the whole time, lol—and fate has plans for MK. Great plans, or foul? Time will tell.
And Wukong has done his best to ensure that those plans are great.
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bossbtch1 · 5 months
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Golden Boy of America
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Summary : What if Steve Rogers wasn't the revered symbol of American virtue that everyone believed him to be? Contrary to the public perception of his kindness and charm, you've come to realize it was all a façade. Now, you find yourself in a nightmarish scenario—kidnapped and bound, questioning everything you thought you knew about the man once hailed as the golden boy of America.
Pairings : Dark!Steve Rogers x f!reader
Words : 6,9k
General tags : SMUT, 18+, NSFW
TW : dark fic, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, degradation, non-con, dirty talk, oral sex, smut, vibrator, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, rough sex, p in v, overstimulation, breeding kink, forced impregnation
A/N : This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I've been going back and forth, tweaking the story to add a darker twist. I've always felt like there's more beneath the surface of Captain America's heroic façade, he did good and sacrificed everything for the world. What if he's not as perfect as he seemed? And you had to be the one who found out about his true side, his dark side. That's the premise of this one shot, enjoy~
Before you continue, please read TW again. This is a dark!fic and explicit, strictly for readers 18+.  I don't condone any of this kind of thinking in real life, this is purely fan fiction. Please, DO NOT PROCEED if these themes disturb you. Please don't read if this content is not your cup of tea, you've been warned.
My masterlist
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The sound of a car door slamming shut is the last thing you remember before everything went black. A dull ache in your head is what you first felt when you woke up.
When you open your eyes, you find that your hands and legs are bounded by rope and tape, the coldness of the floor and walls send shivers down your spine. It takes a few seconds for you to process the situation you were in. The first thing that came into mind was where you were, who did this and why? Your memories were all a blur, you can't remember how you got into this predicament.
You hear a door open from somewhere, it echoes in the empty space, making the hairs on your arm stand up. You start to feel anxious and scared as your heart beats loudly. "Hello?" You say and the voice bounces off the walls, not knowing who was behind this.
"Good, you're awake now." A familiar voice speaks out, walking into the room. Your eyes widen in shock, mouth agape.
"S-Steve? W-What's going on? Why am I here?" You ask him, fear evident in your voice. Steve doesn't answer and stares at you blankly. He's standing right in front of you. "Answer me!" You demand but he remains silent, only looking at you.
"You don't have the right to tell me what to do." He said with a dark expression. 
"What the fuck, Steve!" you said as you were tied to a chair. The ropes were tight enough to not get out of but loose enough so it doesn't hurt. "Let me go, Steve, you bastard!"
He was standing in front of you with his arms crossed and a stoic expression. His jaw was clenched tight and he looked like he was going to kill someone.
"Why should I? So, you can escape and go tell on me? Tell everyone what a bad man I am? Huh?" Steve said as he walked up to you and grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "You know I can't let you do that."
He kept you in a small bedroom. The wallpaper was torn, revealing the rotten wood behind it. A single bed and a rickety drawer stood as the only furnishings. The window had its shutters closed, allowed no glimpse of the outside world and there was only a single light bulb illuminating the room. It gave a very eerie feeling.
"Steve, let me go." You said in a low voice.
"I can't do that." He said, running his fingers through his hair. "If I do, they will find me and put me in jail."
"Steve, they will not find you. I swear I won't tell anyone." You said as you tried to get up. But Steve came up and pushed you back to the chair.
"Stop. Fucking. Moving." He said in a menacing tone. "You're not the boss here. I am." He said.
"Do you think you can just imprison me like this?" you shouted, your voice cracking with frustration. "What you're doing is cruel and inhumane!"
A chilling smile crept across Steve's lips as he retorted, "Oh, I can, and I will. You're not the first, and you won't be the last. I have my reasons, and I won't let you ruin everything I've worked for."
Your voice trembled with shock and disbelief, "What do you mean I'm not the first? There were others before me? What happened to them? Who are you?!"
"I've always been Steve Rogers, the same person you met and fell for. As for the others, they were my mistakes, and I fixed them." Steve replied in a casual tone as if talking about the weather. "Don't worry, sweetheart, you won't have to worry about that. I won't make the same mistakes twice."
"What happened to them?" you asked, feeling the blood drain from your face.
"That's none of your concern, sweetheart. You don't need to worry about them. All you need to worry about is obeying me."
You couldn't believe that the man in front of you was the same person you'd known. "I will not obey you, Steve."
He laughed as he sat on the bed, "You’re not the Steve I know. You're fucking insane! You're no hero!" You screamed at him, "I saw you kill that man, Steve. You took his life without a shred of remorse."
He shook his head. "Y/N it was necessary. He was a criminal, and it was self-defense."
"No it wasn’t!" you raised your voice. “You had other options, you could have spared his life, but you didn't. You killed him because you're a psychopath!"
He ignored your statement and said, "I told you, you should have never followed me. You've made this very hard for yourself." He crossed his arm, "I warned you, I tried so fucking hard so you wouldn't see any of this, but you just had to follow me."
He was right, if you listened to him and didn’t follow him, you wouldn’t end up like this. You didn't know how to respond.
"How do I know you're not going to kill me next?"
"Oh, please, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it the minute I brought you here." He said, rolling his eyes. "Besides, why would I kill you when you could be so much more useful to me alive."
"Useful?"
"Yeah. I could use some help." He said as he walked closer to you.
"What kind of help?" you asked.
He smirked and licked his lips. "The fun kind."
"Steve, what are you talking about?" you asked, fearing the answer.
He leaned in closer and whispered into your ear. "I'm sure you'll be a good girl and obey."
You didn't like where this was going. "Steve, please let me go." you whispered, trying not to cry. You were scared, you were tied to a chair and no one knew where you were. You were scared of what Steve was going to do to you.
"You're begging already?" He laughed dryly. "It hasn't even been 20 minutes."
"Please." You sighed and tried to break free from the ropes. "You can't keep me here, Steve. Please"
"I can do anything I want." he whispered, his face getting closer to yours. You tried to lean back, but there was no room. You could feel his breath fanning over your face. You shut your eyes.
"You don't want to do this, Steve." You said.
"Don't I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Because it seems like I do."
"Please..." You opened your eyes, you had tears forming in them. You were scared, he could do anything he wanted to you, and there was nothing you could do about it.
"You look so pretty when you beg, you know that?" he said, his face inches from yours.
"Steve, don't do this. Please" You begged.
He ran his fingers over your cheek and wiped away the tear that was threatening to fall. "Shame that it had to be like this."
"Steve... I-I promise I won't tell anyone." you whimpered, flinching at his touch. You didn't want him to touch you.
He shook his head. "You've seen what I did."
"It was an accident. We can get out of this," you pleaded, your voice laden with desperation, seeking any flicker of empathy in his eyes.
"No. We can't. This was inevitable. Don't worry, sweetheart. You're going to love it here," Steve declared with an unsettling certainty, his tone almost comforting, as if he genuinely believed the twisted reality he was creating.
"Steve, please. You can't keep me here. If not for you, at least do it for our friendship. Please, let me go"
"This will be the last time you beg, Y/N. I will not repeat myself. You're not going anywhere. This will be your new home"
"It won't be," you insisted, defiance laced with fear.
"You'll see, in time, you'll change your mind." Steve's response echoed through the room, the unsettling assurance leaving you with a sinking feeling of dread as the realization set in that escape seemed increasingly improbable.
The room seemed to close in, the peeling wallpaper and the flickering light bulb casting eerie shadows that danced around the space, creating an atmosphere of both captivity and impending menace.
Your hand struggled against the rope as you watched him. Your eyes wide and frightened. "You see, my sweet Y/N. I've got my eye on you for quite a while. Maybe after I've had my fun with you, I'll consider letting you go. Who knows" he smiled at you, his hand caressing your lips. You felt sick.
"Don't you dare touch me" you hissed, jerking your face away from him. His eyes flashed with anger for a second before it was gone. 
"You don't have a choice" he chuckled. He took hold of your jaw and brought his face closer to yours, his lips a breath away. "I will enjoy making you scream and beg for mercy."
You felt his hands trail down your neck and down to the top of your shirt. He looked up at you before ripping your shirt open, making the buttons fly across the room. You gasped as you felt the cool air hit your skin. You were left in your bra, the thin lace fabric the only thing protecting you.
"Don't" 
"Don't what?" He grinned and pulled your bra straps down, exposing your breasts. You tried to cover yourself but you couldn't. You were still tied to the chair, and he was stronger than you.
"Please. Just stop" You felt tears roll down your cheeks.
"Oh, honey. This is just the beginning" He took one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger and twisted it, making you gasp in pain. He leaned down and took your other nipple into his mouth, sucking on it. You squirmed under his touch, trying to push him away, but he held onto your wrists and kept you in place.
"Stop! Please, Steve. I'm sorry!"
"No. I don't think you're sorry" he growled as he moved to your neck and bit down. He sucked on the sensitive skin, making sure he left a mark.
"Stop!" you exclaimed, trying to push him off you. He chuckled at your efforts, then next he was moving his hands down your waist and stopping at the top of your jeans.
"Now, be a good girl and stay still. Wouldn't want to ruin such pretty underwear, now would we?" he asked as he slowly pulled your pants down. Your breathing sped up and you started to squirm.
"Steve, stop, please, I'm sorry, just let me go, please" you pleaded, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn't believe that he was doing this.
"Stop with the dramatics, princess. It won't change a thing. Just sit back and enjoy, it'll feel better if you relax" he cooed, pulling your jeans down to your ankles. You felt a sob escape your throat as he looked down at you, his eyes looking hungry and lustful.
"Please, don't do this, Steve, please"
"Shh, princess, I'm going to make you feel good, okay? But, first, I gotta take these off" he murmured, reaching for your panties. Your breathing stopped, and you felt yourself shake.
"Steve" you whimpered, shaking your head. Tears were falling down your face, and Steve was wiping them away. 
"Such a pretty sight. You're gonna look so pretty covered in my marks" he whispered as he leaned down and started to suck on your neck. You let out a strangled moan as you tried to move your head away from him.
"Get off, you creep" you groaned, trying to kick him away. He didn't seem fazed and just held your hips down. He was much stronger than you, and the more you struggled, the harder his grip became.
"That's it, baby. Squirming like a little slut" he murmured, moving his hand down and under your panties. You shook your head frantically, trying to kick him away again.
"Don't touch me, please" you begged, closing your legs tightly. He looked up at you, his blue eyes darkening with lust. "Steve, get off me!"
"You know, I've seen the way you've looked at me. Like a piece of meat" He was right, you couldn’t lie, you were attracted to him ever since you first saw him. Who wasn’t attracted to him? He was kind and gentle. Even right now after you found out who he really was, you still feel attracted to him. You knew you shouldn’t be. 
“You’re disgusting!” You spat in defiance, you were in denial. 
"You say that now, but I'll have you screaming my name"
"I'll never scream your name, you pervert."
"We’ll see about that, princess.” he murmured, kissing down your stomach. You shivered as you felt his warm breath fanning over your stomach. You didn't want him this close. 
Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but why are you already wet huh?” You were shaking your head, trying to get him to stop. But it felt so good. 
Steve then chuckled as he moving his fingers in circles on your clit. “You don’t want me but you sure are wet, darling. So, what is it, hm? Tell me, are you wet because you want me or is it something else?” He pushed a finger inside of you, making you gasp. He began pumping his finger in and out, his eyes never leaving yours. 
“Fuck. I've always wondered what you would feel like. So tight and warm." He continued pumping his finger in and out of you, and you tried to hold back a moan. You couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he was pleasuring you.
"Scream my name, princess."
"Never." You said through clenched teeth. 
"That's fine, sweetheart, I can do this all day." He smirked.
You could feel his finger moving inside of you, hitting the spot that made your legs tremble. You tried to hold back a moan, but he knew what he was doing.
"Oh fuckkk," you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.
"That's right, princess, be a good girl for me" he groaned, moving his fingers inside you. You moaned, feeling him thrust his fingers in and out. He moved his lips back to your neck, biting and sucking. He added another finger and curled his fingers inside of you.
You let out a small moan, and he smirked. "Come on, princess, you can do better than that."
He added a third finger and thrust them faster, making your hips buck. He was moving his fingers faster and faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer.
You couldn't stop the moans from escaping. Your body betrayed you.
He continued curling his fingers inside of you, and you felt a pressure building up.
"P-please, st-stop, I don't- I don't w-want" you whispered, a sob escaping your throat. His eyes were dark and hungry, and his movements became rougher.
"What, princess, don't wanna have some fun?"
"No, I-I don't want th-this"
"Stop lying to yourself, princess.” He said as he kissed your cheeks. “You're so pretty like this, Y/N. All vulnerable and defenseless"
"I'm not-"
"Oh, baby, I know. But don't worry, I'll make you feel so good."
"Fuck, Steve"
"That's right, baby, moan my name. You sound so beautiful." He laughed and continued thrusting his fingers. You squeezed your eyes shut as his fingers went deeper, hitting your g-spot.
"Beg me, princess. Beg me to make you come.” he said, moving his fingers faster. Your breathing sped up as he added a third finger, stretching your hole. 
"Screw you!" You refused to beg him, not giving him the satisfaction.
"You will. You'll beg me to make you come, and then you'll beg me to fuck you. You'll beg me to use your body until I've had my fill."
You shook your head, biting your bottom lip. He began rubbing your clit again, causing your legs to shake. You could feel your climax approaching, and you didn't know whether to be relieved or scared. "I can feel how close you are. Say it, princess. Beg me."
Then when you were about to cum, he pulled his fingers out, leaving you feeling empty. You wanted to cry. "No!" You panted, trying to catch your breath.
"Not yet, princess. You know what I want, princess. Tell me." He purred, licking his fingers clean. You knew what he wanted, you still refused.
He laughed. "You're really gonna make me do this, aren't you?"
You were so confused. You didn't know what he meant. "You're gonna make me show you just how bad you need this."
He got up from the bed and walked over to the closet. He opened the doors and reached inside, pulling out a bag.
"What is that?" you asked, nervously.
He turned and looked at you. He opened the bag and pulled out a long, thin, pink vibrator. Your eyes went wide, you began to tremble. You were terrified. He was going to use that on you.
He held the vibrator up to your face and pressed a button, making it hum. You shook your head at him, "Steve No!"
He walked back over to you and crouched down in front of you. He ran his hand down your thigh, before spreading your legs, "Such a pretty pussy, princess." he murmured, tracing a finger along your folds.
He put the vibrator between your legs, pressing it against your clit.
"Fuck! Don't!" you moaned, trying to get away. He grabbed your hair and pulled you closer to him. "Oh, princess, you're gonna cum on this. Then, you're gonna cum on my cock. And, after that, you're gonna beg me for more."
You let out a sob as he pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel yourself getting close again. "Please, Steve."
He pressed the vibrator against your clit harder, making you moan. You didn't want him touching you there, but you couldn't stop the pleasure. "Tell me what you want, Y/N"
"Steve, I can't. I don't want it, I can't, please"
"But, you do, princess. You're already wet for me. You want this."
You shook your head, trying to get away from the vibrator. He held onto your hips, keeping you still. He leaned forward and licked your nipple. He sucked your nipple, making you arch your back.
He turned up the intensity of the vibrator, causing your hips to buck. He let go of your nipple and moved the vibrator lower, rubbing it against your entrance.
"Fuck! Stop, Steve. I-I can't. It's too much!"
"Oh, baby, this is nothing. Just wait until I start fucking you."
You were getting closer, the pleasure almost unbearable. "Steve, please. Stop. Please. I can't. I'm gonna-"
He turned up the intensity of the vibrator. "Say it. Or I'll make this last even longer. I'll keep you here all night, and the whole time, I'll be inside you."
You moaned and closed your eyes. "Please… Steve…”
He chuckled. "I like hearing you beg, princess." He turned the vibrator off and moved it back up to your clit. He slowly pushed it into your tight cunt.
"I can't…."
He smirked, "Oh, baby, we've just gotten started."
He turned the vibrator on and fucked you with it. You arched your back and moaned. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up. You let out a whimper as he kissed you, hard. He pulled away and licked your neck. "You're such a slut for me, princess. You will love it when I fuck you."
You shook your head, trying to get him to stop. "Please, Steve. Stop."
He ignored you, thrusting the vibrator deeper inside you.
You were about to cum when he suddenly pulled the vibrator out. "Steve, please, I need-"
Everytime you were close to cum, he would turn the vibrator off,  making you frustrated and horny. "I can do this all day, princess."
You couldn't take it anymore, "Please Steve! Please let me cum, I can't take it anymore, please" You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks. You really needed to cum so bad, he was edging you so hard.
You hated yourself for begging him. He kept the vibrator pressed against your clit, and with his other hand, he began fucking you with his fingers again.
He grinned, "What's the magic word?"
"Please…."
"Wrong answer, princess." He chuckled and stood up. He turned the vibrator on and started walking towards you. He held the vibrator against your clit and rubbed it in slow circles. "Now, be a good girl and spread your legs."
You took a deep breath and slowly spread your legs, revealing your dripping cunt. “Good girl.” 
"Yes, oh god, Steve, please." You were moaning and panting, trying to hold off your orgasm, but he was making it impossible. "I can't hold back much longer, Steve, I'm so close. Please don’t stop." You were moaning, you didn’t care for anything, you needed to cum. 
But the moment you were about to cum, Steve stopped again, and removed the vibrator.
"Steve! No! Fuck!" You screamed, tears pricking your eyes. "What the fuck! Let me cum!"
He laughed, "So desperate. How long has it been since someone touched you like this? I can tell by your reactions that it's been a while." He turned on the vibrator again, “You will cum on my cock, now beg me to fuck you."
You were shaking, crying, "Fuck you, Steve. I'm not doing that."
He laughed, "Oh, I think you will. You're so desperate, Y/N, so close to the edge. You'll do anything to cum." He slowly undid his pants and stroking his cock in front of you. 
Your eyes widened as you stared at his length, you didn't think it was possible for a man to have such a huge cock. But, the sight of him stroking his cock was making you even wetter, and you couldn't help but want him to fuck you.
"Tell me you want me, tell me how much you want my cock."
"Steve, no. Please." You tried to close your legs, but he put the vibrator between them, spreading your lips and pushing the vibrator inside.
"If you don't, I'll just leave you here. Alone. Unsatisfied."
You were quiet, you shouldn’t want him, you should hold a little longer but he was being so good to you. It had been long since a guy made you felt like this. 
"Come on, princess. Tell me you want me to fuck you. Tell me how much you want me inside you. Tell me how bad you want my cock." He grinned as he kissed your clit, “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you want. I’ll fuck you better than any guy you know. I’ll make sure you will never be more satisfied than being with me again."
His words sent it toward your clit, you clenched your pussy hearing him said that. You were frustrated, sobbing, you needed release, and you didn't care about anything. You were going to beg.
 You caved in, "Fine! Fuck me, Steve. Please fuck me. I need your cock, please!"
He leaned forward and kissed you. He bit down on your bottom lip, and you gasped. He chuckled, "I bet you'd let me do anything right now, wouldn't you, princess?"
He turned the vibrator back on and started fucking you with it. You were crying and moaning, begging him to let you cum. You could feel your orgasm approaching, and you couldn't hold back anymore. "Fuck, please, Steve, fuck. I'm so close, I'm gonna cum. Fuck."
"Cum for me, princess.” 
You came screaming, your whole body convulsing. You were shaking and sweating, your body aching from the pleasure.
He turned off the vibrator and pulled it out of you. He kissed your cheek, "Such a good girl. I'm so proud of you, princess."
You were panting, trying to catch your breath. "I hate you."
"You don't mean that, baby. You're just a little overwhelmed. It's okay."
You looked at him, his eyes were soft and gentle, but you knew he was crazy. You were still tied up, helpless, and completely at his mercy. He was going to use his large cock to fuck you, and you couldn't do anything to stop him.
"Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of you. I promise."
He started to untie you and you were confused. Was he letting you go? You tried to scramble to ran away from him but you didn’t get far, he wrapped his arms on your waist lifting you. “Steve! Put me down now!”
He ignored you and brought you back to the bed. He put you down and pinned you, using his body weight to keep you still. "Don't think this changes anything."
He kissed you, hard and hungry. You tried to push him away but it was useless, he was too strong. "Fuck, baby, you taste so good." He kissed down your neck, biting and sucking as he went. He stopped at your breast, taking one nipple in his mouth and the other in his hand.
"Steve, please..."
"You want me to stop, Y/N?"
"Yes!"
"Well, that's too bad. Because I'm not stopping until I'm finished with you. And you're gonna love every minute of it. You're my girl, Y/N. I'm never letting you go.” 
"No, please...don't...stop...don't hurt me, Steve."
He smirked, "I'm not going to hurt you, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."
He let go of your wrists and reached down between your legs. You gasped as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles. "God, you're so wet. So wet and ready for me."
"Stop..."
"No. I'm not stopping, princess. You're going to come for me, just like you did with the vibrator. And then, I'm going to fuck you. I'm going to fuck you all night long."
You tried to wiggle away from him, but it was no use. He was too strong. You tried to kick him, “Princess.” He warned, you stopped your movement, his tone made you scared. 
He then smiled, “Good girl.” 
You were trapped, at his mercy. He was going to hurt you, he was going to fuck you, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were his.
He slipped a finger inside of you, moving it in and out slowly. "Fuck, baby, you're so tight. You're gonna feel so good on my cock."
He added a second finger, stretching you even more. He kept pumping them in and out of you, making sure to hit your g-spot every time. You could feel another orgasm building.
"Oh God...oh fuck, Steve...please..."
"Please what, baby? Do you want me to stop?"
"No...don't stop...fuck, Steve..."
"Tell me, Y/N. Tell me what you want."
"I want...I want you to fuck me."
"You're such a dirty girl, Y/N. You're gonna come for me, aren't you?"
"Yes...oh God, Steve...yes...I'm gonna cum." He fucked you faster, harder, his fingers pounding into you. You couldn't hold back anymore, you threw your head back and screamed his name as you came, your whole body shaking with pleasure.
"Fuck, that's it, baby. You’re so beautiful, princess.” He didn't stop, he kept fucking you, his fingers buried deep inside you. You couldn't believe how good it felt, you had never been fucked like this before.
He kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your orgasm. You were panting and moaning, trying to catch your breath. "That's it, princess. That's it. Just like that."
He moved down and spread your legs wide open. "Fuck, baby. You're so fucking wet."
He licked your slit, tasting your juices. You moaned as he lapped at your folds, sucking and licking like his life depended on it.
He pulled back and looked up at you, "You taste so fucking good, baby. I could eat you all day long."
"Oh, god...please, Steve..."
"Please, what, princess? You want me to fuck you?"
"Yes..."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, please, fuck me, Steve."
"Fuck, I love when you beg, princess."
His cock was rock hard, the tip leaking precum. He grabbed the base and stroked it a few times before positioning himself between your legs. He lined himself up with your entrance, rubbing the tip through your folds, coating it in your wetness. "Fuck... Steve… It's not going to fit."
"It'll fit, princess. I promise." He slowly pushing inside of you, letting you adjust to his size. It hurt, but the feeling of him stretching you was incredible. He was so big and you felt so full. "God, you're so tight, Y/N. So wet. Do you like my cock, baby? Do you like the way it feels?"
"Oh god, Steve. So full." You moaned.
He started moving, thrusting into you. The pace was slow and steady, letting you get used to his size. "God, you feel so fucking good, princess. So fucking good."
It hurt at first, but the pain soon turned to pleasure. You were moaning, begging him for more. "Steve...faster..."
He grinned, "You want it faster, baby? You want me to fuck you faster?"
"Yes...please...faster..."
He quickened his pace, pounding into you. He grabbed your legs and put them over his shoulders, changing the angle and hitting that spot inside you that made you see stars.
"Fuck, yes, Steve!"
"That's it, baby. Scream my name. Scream my name as I fuck you."
"Oh, god...yes...please, Steve... harder!"
He groaned and started slamming into you, fucking you hard and fast. "Fuck, baby. You're such a slut, begging me to fuck you harder."
You were lost in pleasure, moaning and screaming his name. "That's it, baby. Tell me how good it feels, princess. Tell me how much you love it. Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
"So good, Steve...it feels so good...I love you fucking me, Steve."
"Yeah, you do, don't you? You love being fucked by me huh?" He growled and pounded into you, harder and faster.
"I love it...please, Steve, more..." He felt so good inside you, you should've hating him, but all you wanted was more. You shouldn’t want him but fuck no one ever fucked you this good. "Yes, Steve, oh god, yes. Please fuck me."
"Yeah, baby, I'll fuck you. I'll fuck you hard. I'll fuck you until you can't walk." He began thrusting his hips, fucking you hard and fast. He sped up his thrusts, slamming into you harder and deeper. You were lost in the pleasure, not caring about anything else. All that mattered was him and how good he made you feel.
You were so close, you could feel your orgasm building. "Steve...I'm gonna come."
"Yeah? You gonna come, baby? You gonna come on my cock?"
"Yes..."
"Yeah, you are. You're gonna come all over my cock. You're gonna come for me, baby. Come on, princess. Come for me." He then went to sucked your neck and then bit it, hard. "Rub your clit, baby. Make yourself come. Rub that fucking clit while I fuck you."
You obeyed, reaching down and rubbing your clit. It only took a few seconds before you were coming, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back.
"Fuck, yes, princess. That's it. Come for me."
You were coming down from your high and he was still pounding into you
You moaned and came, your body shaking with pleasure.
He didn't stop, he kept fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it. You were so oversensitive and it was almost too much, but you didn't want him to stop.
He pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up. "Oh, God, yes, Steve!" He slammed back into you, his pace relentless. "You like that, princess? You like me fucking you?"
"Yes! Oh, God, yes! Don't stop!"
He reached around and rubbed your clit, making you moan even louder. "Come for me, princess. Come for me again. I want to hear you scream."
You were close, you could feel your orgasm building again. He pinched your clit and that was it. You came, screaming his name. He continued to fuck you, not slowing down at all.
"God, I love it when you scream, princess. Keep screaming for me."
You were barely coming down from your orgasm and he was already pushing you towards another one. You couldn't take it, it was too much. You were oversensitive and it was almost too much. He leaned forward and kissed your neck, whispering in your ear, "That's it, baby. Take my cock. Take it all."
"Steve, please...it's too much...it's too much..."
"Shh, princess. I know. I know. But you can take it. You can take it, can't you, baby?"
"Yes..."
"Yeah, I know. I know you can. You're my good girl, aren't you?" He grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. "Now, say it. Say you're my good girl."
"I'm your good girl." 
"Fucking right you are." He said and went to fondled your breast while he pounded into you, his pace unforgiving. His trusts became erratic, you knew he was close.
Then you remember, he didn't wear a condom and you weren’t on birth control.  "Please pull out! Don't come inside of me, please! I’m not on birth control!”
He stopped, but didn't pull out. "You're kidding, right? What's the point in fucking you if I don't come inside of that tight pussy of yours? I'm gonna fill you up, make you mine."
You started to panic. "Please, you'll get me pregnant. Please don't come inside of me."
"No, you're mine now. And I'm gonna breed you, just like you deserve. You're going to give me what I want and you're going to take it."
"Please, don't come inside of me." Your breath came in gasps, you couldn't hold back your moans anymore, even though you were crying. You tried to push him off, but he didn't let you, didn't stop fucking you.
"Please, please don't. I'll do anything you want. Please just pull out, I'll let you fuck me every morning. I'll be your good girl, please just not inside." You were sobbing now, but your cunt was dripping.
“Your body says otherwise, princess.” He picked up his pace again. Fuck, you like this, don't you? You're so wet. You want to have my babies, don't you? Fuck, yeah, you're a good girl, begging for my cum."
He felt you trying to pull away and he slapped your ass, hard. "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're going to stay here and take my cock. I’m gonna fuck a baby into you." He moaned, his thrusts were becoming more desperate, his hand left your waist and moved to your clit, rubbing hard.
You whimpered and he slapped your ass again. "Don't fight me, princess. Just let go and enjoy it. You're already mine, and now you're going to have my baby. We're going to have a family, Y/N. You're not leaving me."
You gave up, your body submitting to him. He was in complete control and there was nothing you could do. He kept fucking you, going even faster and harder. "There you go, baby. That's it. Let me take care of you."
Your pussy started to contract and you screamed, a wave of pleasure rolling through you. "Yeah, fuck. I knew you'd like this. Fuck, you're squeezing me, that's it. Take it, take it all, be a good girl and take it."
He moaned and pumped into you harder, until his hips stuttered and his cock pulsed.
"Ahhhh!" You cried as he spilled his seed inside of you, filling your insides. He groaned at the feeling of you, warm and wet, squeezing around him. He let go of your wrists and wrapped both his arms around your waist. 
When he was finished, he stayed inside of you, breathing heavily. "Fuck, that was great. Best sex I ever had."
 When he pulled out, you felt his come dripping down your leg. "We can't waste this, can we?" He thrusted his finger into you, gathering his come. You were still shaking, not able to comprehend what just happened.
He shoved his finger into your mouth. "You'll be a good girl, won't you? Now clean my fingers.”
He shoved his fingers into your mouth, you were too exhausted to do anything, just opened your mouth and let him shove his fingers down your throat.
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you and the baby." He whispered. "You'll be the perfect mom."
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"Oh, no. We're not done yet." He grabbed your face with his clean hand, and pulled you into a kiss. He pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, tasting his cum. "You're such a good girl. Now, I'll give you a reward."
He got down on his knees and pushed your legs apart, then leaned forward, licking your clit. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive skin, but quickly bit your lip, trying to keep quiet.
He looked up at you. "Don't worry, honey. I love the sounds you make. So sweet. Keep making those noises for me." He moved his tongue over your clit, slowly, teasing.
He licked and sucked at your clit, while you moaned, the sensation almost too much. "I know you're sore, honey. But I wanna hear you come on my tongue. Be a good girl and come for me, can you do that?"
"Yes."
He continued sucking your clit, and moved his hand down to your pussy, pushing his fingers inside. He moved his fingers in and out of your pussy, slowly, but it was still too much.
"Please, Steve, make me come."
"That's my good girl." He moved his fingers faster, sucking harder, rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your moans were louder, your whole body felt hot.
"Steve, oh god, oh god, I'm coming."
You felt him smile against your clit, his tongue moving faster, sucking and licking. Your moans became screams, your legs were shaking, you felt the pressure building in your belly, your whole body shaking. You came hard, squirting on his face.
"You taste so sweet." He got up from his knees, his cock hard again, and pressed it against your pussy.
"Please, not again. It's too much. I-I'm too tired. I can't...I don't have any more energy." 
"I can give you energy, princess" He pushed into you, and you screamed, the feeling too intense. He pulled out and then slammed back into you, setting a brutal pace. He wrapped his arm around your waist, and moved his hips in a circular motion, the pressure in your belly building again.
You sighed, you didn't have any energy left. Steve had been non-stop ever since the day he took you, he didn't give you a single moment to rest. You were always filled with his cum. "You'll enjoy it, princess. You always do."
He started to thrust up into you, and you felt your orgasm building. "Oh, God, Steve!"
"That's it, baby, scream my name."
"Steve! Oh, God, Steve!"
You came, clenching around his cock. He groaned, and you felt him spill inside you, his hot cum filling you up. "Fuck, baby, you're so good."
He kissed you, and you could feel him getting hard inside of you again. "No, Steve, please. I can't..."
"Yes, you can, princess. I know you can."
He started to move again, and you knew you were in for a long night.
You couldn't help but moan, you could feel his thick length filling you up. His cum was still inside of you and it was a warm feeling. You were so tired and he could tell, "One more time, princess, and I'll let you sleep."
He was so big, and he hit all the right spots. You couldn't help but moan, it felt so good.
You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his cum, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.
You moaned as he thrust deeper into you. He was so big and it felt so good. You were lost in the pleasure, forgetting about everything else. All that mattered was him and the way he made you feel.
"Say you want me to come inside of you."
"I want you to come inside of me, Steve."
“Beg me.”
“Please, Steve. I want your cum. Please fill me up.”
"Good girl." He kept his rhythm, the feeling of his cock inside of you was too much, but it was so good.
"Come for me, be a good girl and come for me."
Your body was shaking, you felt his cock throb and fill you up again, and then you were coming, your legs trembling, your moans loud.
"Fuck, yeah. You're such a good girl, so sweet, coming for me. So tight, fuck. Such a good girl."
His words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing as your orgasm washed over you. He held himself above you, watching your face, while he fucked you. His cock was still inside of you, twitching, the feeling so intense.
"And don't you forget it. You're mine, and no one else is gonna fuck you. Cause you're mine, and I'm gonna keep you pregnant, giving me all the babies I want."
You had been his prisoner for weeks now and he had fucked you so many times, you lost count. You were covered in his mark and seed, and he didn't let you leave the bed, he was obsessed with breeding you.
You didn't have a choice, he wouldn't let you go. He'd fuck you every day, until he had knocked you up. You didn't even want a baby, and he didn't care. He'd do whatever he wanted. You had no choice but to obey him. But he made you feel so good and gentle with you, you couldn't help but enjoy it.
You had given up, the police weren't going to find you. No one was. You were his prisoner, his plaything. And he was going to keep you forever.
But, in a twisted way, you didn't mind. Because he was always there for you, taking care of you, fucking you, loving you. You had never felt this way about anyone before. And deep down, you knew you were falling in love with him.
"I love you, Y/N. And I'm gonna take care of you, and our baby. Forever."
"I love you, too, Steve."
FIN
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A/N : So what do you guys think? Let me know in the comments, I want to know about your thoughts! 
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avianyuh · 5 months
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S.Coups/Choi Seungcheol as a boyfriend
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He would be so much fun
I think he'd love to go out to different restaurants with you
Or take you to the studio and have you hear his lyrics
Maybe even take you to the gym with him lol
You'd be Kkuma's other parent
Most likely, you'd watch over Kkuma while he was away on tour
Anyways, Cheol would be so protective over you
He's like that with the boys, so imagine being his partner
You ARE his baby
Somebody messed with you?
You will frequently be hearing, "Do I have to make a visit to someone?"
You're cold?
"Take my jacket! Do you want me to look for a nearby store, I'll buy you a new one?"
"No Cheol, I'm fine"
"No I really will, I'm ordering one right now for next time"
This man!
Most likely, he'd introduce you to either Jeonghan, Shua or Woozi first.
Reason I say Woozi is becuase they've known each other for so long, I'm sure he values Woozi's opinion
But with Seungcheol, I don't think he needs his members opinion when it comes to you
Mainly because he'd only introduce you to the members if he was serious about you
So I see him confiding in those three in the early stages of your relationship, not really when he's sure of you
When you're in the car, he drives with one hand, so his other hand is placed on your thigh
UGH
It's so hot
And no this is not made up, I have photo evidence that this man drives with one hand
Shexy Shtuff
Defo the type to 'wait it out' lmao
He wouldn't want you to feel used or anything
So during the first year, even if YOU wanted to have sex, he'd probably be like, "Uh, let's just wait"
I think he'd want to fully get to know you first
But when he feels like you're completely committed to him and vice versa
It's all free real estate
GIRL-
Woo
He's a switch
I said what I said
Yeah, he's a total daddy dom
But I think Seungcheol would like to be taken care of sometimes
Probably more submissive when he's tired but still in the mood for sex
And like I said, once he's committed, free real estate
This man will come home horny
Constantly ready to go
Especially after the gym when he's all sweaty
You jump him every time he comes home from the gym
Back to regularly scheduled programming:
He wants kids, and loves to talk about your future
How many kids you want
When you should start your family
One of his favorites things to do in your relationship is lay in bed, your head on his chest, him caressing your hair, staring up at the ceiling
And just talking about the future
What you both want in life
It's his way of making your relationship feel like you're still in the honeymoon phase.
Anyways...
Cheol would be a committed man to you
Gives the sweetest kisses
The type to kiss you all over your face when he sees you
Hypes you up with everything you do
Awkward and adroable
Choi Seungcheol,
SVT's dad
Your daddy ;)
~~~
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{A/N; I told y'all I would write the coups headcanon. I literally cried watching him give the acceptance speech at MAMA lol, he looks like he's recovering well! BTW, if you have any requests, plz send them in, it seems like I only get BTS requests? Funny cuz I used to only get NCT requests and now it's completely switched. I kinda miss my NCT requests lol, if you have anything you want plz send it in! I've also been writing for some second gen idols (not published yet)
second gen idol fics are lacking on tumblr for some reason?...but that's another story
Anyways hope you enjoyed, mwah💋}
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every love i've ever known has been drenched in blood; teach me how to unfurl these fists, show me where to put down this knife.
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ax72 x reader: the fireman feels like something special.
(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), hair pulling, oral sex (f on m), biting (briefly, okay?), crying, dirty talk (tasteful but serious. i'm not kidding), just all my typical stuff (and all my usual ax72 stuff - so legs and limbs and size and the like). don't read if you're not 100% sure).
(a/n: my favorites! thank you for being patient with me. for your reading pleasure, may i present to you a ax72 fic in which he is a volunteer fireman and you are plagued with fear and self-doubt! i'm joking, but not really. i couldn't not write something for him after the insane start to the season he's had - penalty minutes leader darling deserves a treat. obviously none of the details make sense, none of the dialogue is realistic, there are way too many dramatic speeches and angsty confessions, but you guys know that at this point. to anyone who may relate to what this main character is going through, please know you are not alone. it is very easy to push good things away because they scare you. but to be scared is to care about something. follow your fear, stalk it, don't let up on it until it leads you to something lovely, something real. pretty please tell me what you think. i think jh86 may be next but i'm still storyboarding. for now, i'm sending you and your snakes every single bit of courage and love i've got. go canucks. until next time).
that first night was cold like an absent mother. cruel and unforgiving, unavoidable.
the cold was weathered, however, but the hushed laughter and bickering amongst your housemates as you all exited the front door, smoke alarms blaring, loud and relentless.
"do we actually have to evacuate if we know there's not a fire?" your roommate asked, covering her ears with her hands.
another housemate sighed. "maybe we wouldn't have to if you hadn't left your curling iron on for three fucking hours."
your roommate grimaced. "my bad, guys. this one is on me."
you couldn't help a laugh as you threw an arm around her shoulders. "we know, sweetness. live and learn."
someone groaned. "it's frigid out here, jesus."
you nodded in agreement. the alarm had begun to sound at just after two in the morning, meaning everyone in the house was dressed for bed, all thin sleep shorts and fleecy sweatshirts, no where near enough to combat the brisk air, which was already starting to make your teeth chatter.
"great. here comes the government," one of your friends said, eye roll evident in her voice as the sound of the siren began to overtake the tamer sound of the smoke alarm.
you and your roommate giggled at her comment as you huddled together. as a polysci major, she had an opinion on everything, including all facets of the public sector. for example, the fire department, who pulled up to the curb at that moment in their truck.
"who's going to do the talking?" your roommate whispered to you.
"you?" you proposed, raising a brow. "it's your iron, hm?"
she groaned, but nodded. "this should be good."
three firefighters hopped down from their massive rig, looking even more menacing in their heavy fireproof gear.
"hello, officers," your roommate began, stepping forward and away from you to speak. your shoulders shook in a laugh.
"they're not officers," you whispered to her.
"hello, gentlemen," she corrected. "i speak on behalf of our entire house when i say we appreciate your punctuality."
one of your housemates hung her head in her hands. another one groaned.
"i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say there is no real danger?" one of the firemen said, his tone steady.
your polysci friend nodded. "correct, sir. your services are no longer required."
the three men now stood just in front of you, allowing you to get a true look at them.
the one who had spoken was older, probably thirty five, shorter than his coworkers but obviously the chief. he continued to speak with your roommate about the situation as the rest of you watched on.
the next in line was taller, lankier, with a goofy face and a goofier presence. he appeared unsure of his limbs, how to keep them still.
when your gaze drifted to the third, however, your breath caught, that familiar but long-forgotten whirlwind in your stomach. your eyes drank him in greedily, the way a child gulps down a soda at a friend's house. so similar, someone in your mind whispered don't tell mom.
he was the tallest of the three, and the broadest, too, his chest a wide expanse, arms and legs practically tree-like in his canvas uniform. it was his face that really had you, though. he was beautiful in a way you had never seen before, in a surreal sort of way. the kind of face that saved you in a dream, that you tried to conjure when you woke up but never could.
sharp jaw, sharper nose, the kind of cheekbones you had seen before only in a museum. full, pink, upturned lips, downwards sloping eyes that made him appear drowsy, like the personification of a midday nap. cheeks made rosy by the cold. even under his helmet you could see his thick, dark hair, so soft-looking. that was it, you thought. he just looked so soft, even though he appeared to be made of stone.
his presence made you shiver, which was only deepened when you met his eyes, dark and clear, found them already looking at you.
something in your gaze made him smirk, made your stomach drop. you crossed your arms closer around yourself, suddenly insecure under his scrutiny.
you hated the not-knowing, wished you could see yourself from his eyes, from the outside, so that you may correct yourself, angle and present yourself in some better way.
but his eyes only sparked with danger, not disappointment. cold? he mouthed to you, so as not to interrupt the conversation. his mouth formed the words slowly, deliberately, deliciously.
yes, you thought, half stunned he was communicating with you, the cold is why i'm shivering. definitely not you. definitely not your eyes.
so you only nodded slowly, felt your eyes widen as he walked towards you, shrugging off his jacket.
you stood, frozen in place, as he held it out to you in one huge hand. he offered it to you, someone he didn't know, someone who he owed nothing to, someone from whom he knew he could possibly receive nothing in return. and yet he offered it to you, regardless.
he was so close to you, now, just a step away. you tilted your head up to look at him. "don't you need it?" you asked, willing any squeak out of your voice. surely he would realize his mistake soon, realize you weren't worth it.
his chest shook in a low laugh. "what i need is for you to not freeze," he said, his voice much deeper, rougher, than you could have imagined. "just take it, darling, yeah?"
something in your mind screamed what do you want? at him in a voice dreary with fear, raspy with experience and expectation. what's the catch?
had you met him before? surely he couldn't be this sweet to you upon just seeing you, upon not even knowing your name. had you lent him notes in one of your classes, maybe spotted him a drink at a bar? you searched for an explanation that never came.
but at that point you probably would have done anything he asked, which you knew was not good. which you knew was very, very dangerous.
which was bad, but true, so you shouldered his jacket on, found it almost oppressive in warmth. "thank you," you told him, little more then a whisper, letting your voice trail off like a question.
"arber," he finished for you.
"arber," you repeated, knowing as soon as the name died on your tongue your mouth would feel empty, would long to form the word again.
he didn't walk back to his former place, either, instead electing to stay just next to you. just close enough to make you feel almost faint. one of your housemates wolf-whistled. you imagined the image looked fairly comical, a massive oak tree of a fireman with an 80's mullet and mustache combo next to a university pre-dentistry junior in pajamas, swimming in his coat.
but you couldn't think too much about that as you gave him your name, tried to keep your eyes trained on his face. a tough task, considering the way his arms looked unobstructed by his jacket.
everything about him was distracting. your heart was racing. how were you going to be able to get back to sleep after this?
"well, ladies, i hope you've learned your lesson," the chief said, appearing to finish a speech you had missed entirely.
"sure have, officer," your roommate said stoically.
"not an officer, miss," he corrected. the shake in his head was telling, made your housemates snicker.
"apologies, sir," she finished, giving him a salute.
"sorry you guys had to come all the way out here," one of your other housemates said.
"no trouble at all," arber said, his first time speaking to everyone. he was looking only at you. melting you like snow in the morning.
"until next time," your roommate said with a little bow, turning to go back into the house, now silent.
"there won't be a next time, sweetness," you amended, forcing your gaze away from arber. she waved you off.
reluctantly, you made to shrug off arber's jacket, hand it back to him as the other two firemen got back into their truck, your housemates walking back inside, leaving just the two of you.
"sure you don't need it?" he asked, the roughness in his voice somehow gentle. his words coming out in exactly the shape of the hole in your chest.
you gave a light laugh. "think i'll survive the trek back," you said, referring to the several steps between you and the front door. "thanks again, arber."
"my pleasure, darling," he said, and your cheeks flushed at the term. this brutal cold, you thought, making my face pink.
his lips quirked in a way that made your stomach flip. a way that made you so suddenly sure he knew exactly what effect he had on you. exactly how little the cold had to do with it.
"well," you said, your hands laced behind you, your voice taking on a melodic sort of cadence. "i guess i'll see you around, hm?"
"hope so," he hummed, something amusing in his tone. something careful. "sweet dreams, darling."
"good night, arber," you answered, dazed and blushy. like saying goodnight to an old friend, to a middle school boyfriend, to someone who knew you too personally to be real.
but somehow, it was saying goodbye to someone whom you had known for only moments.
the truck pulled away, you shut the front door behind you.
"should i just leave my iron on 24/7?" your roommate asked immediately, not giving you a moment to catch your breath. "maybe throw some rocks in the microwave?"
you rolled your eyes at her. "oh, please," you said.
"don't worry," she finished, an impish smile on her pretty, round face. "i'll wait until you're in the shower, next time."
you playfully slapped her arm as you made your way back into your room, not bothering to stifle both of your giggles.
you went to sleep that night with mirages of dark brown eyes and corded shoulders in your head. you swore you could smell smoke, could feel flame, could sense danger.
the feeling stayed with you, settled like ash in your bones. a heat, a skepticism, a want, a worry. you halfway hoped you would never see him again, because when had one person ever had such an effect on you? when had you let them?
you halfway hoped you would never see him again, but as soon as you did see him again, you knew that hope had been a complete and utter lie.
it was only a few days later, in the middle of your serving shift at the pub close to campus. only a wednesday, so nothing too busy, just a regular shift. your regular black uniform, long braid down your back with black ribbon, everything the same as always.
and then he was in a booth, practically taking up the whole bench, his deep laugh at something one of his friends had said making you dizzy.
surely it's not him, you thought as you took out your guest check pad, it couldn't be him. how could you have gone twenty one years without seeing him once, then see him twice in a week?
what trickster god was toying with you, now?
and then you were standing in front of his table, and it couldn't be him, but it was. of course it was.
but you didn't know if he would recognize you without your pajamas on, couldn't fathom that he could have dreamed of you with the vigor you had him, so you went on, business as usual.
"hi, guys," you said, your customer service voice ringing through the air like a bell. muscle memory had you placing napkin coasters down in front of each person. "can i get some drinks started for you?"
you took the orders of the others before finally locking eyes with arber. it wasn't any easier than you remembered. it wasn't any cooler, didn't feel any less like being engulfed in flame. "and for you?" you asked, hating how you couldn't just admit to recognizing him. hating how your mind preferred crafting protective plans to just being honest.
but he upended you, as you should have perhaps expected. his smirk was subtle. "am i that forgettable, darling?" he asked, like it was just the two of you.
the answer was so obvious you could have rolled your eyes, but you just cleared your throat and choked on a laugh, happy to have an excuse to show your delight. the insecurity in your head sighed in relief.
"arber!" you exclaimed, clicking your pen nervously, "thought that was you."
he nodded towards your general figure. "good to see you warm," he said with that rough voice you could feel in your chest like a bullet.
you hummed. "good to see you," you said, not bothering to add a condition.
something he noticed, something that made him smile, therefore something so, so worth the risk. your grin overtook your face all at once, toothy and real.
it appeared to shock him as much as you, his expression suddenly one of wonder, of awe.
you cleared your throat again, rediscovered the other people at the table, went to get everyone's drinks and then ran their food orders to the kitchen.
and you tried not to dwell on the way his hand looked around a glass, like it was kid's toy in a play kitchen, tried not to zone out on his lips as they formed words, not to blush whenever he looked at you.
you only laughed, mumbled a thank you when he joking said this was the best service he had ever had.
when he asked how you day had been, you had just blushed, muttered something affirmative, tried not to drop the glass you were holding, hated how anyone's attention, never mind a man's, could render you so helpless.
it was a whole lot of trying, a whole lot of awareness and controlling your own limbs, your own reactions like a marionette puppet. this way, you guided your arms, lined with plates of food. that way, you led your legs. these words, no, not those ones. no, no blushing, no not like that.
your marionette puppet appeared defective in many ways, many frustrating ways.
it was the slowest shift of your life. you felt oh so tired by the time arber's table asked for the check, felt oh so embarrassed by how hard you had been trying all night, hated how it was impossible for you to hide your effort.
it was all over you. it was in the slight sheen of sweat on your upper lip, in the strands of hair that had come free from your braid, in the way your voice shook when he spoke to you, the wobble in your knees when your eyes met.
you were trying so devastatingly hard, and you knew he could see, that everyone could see. was it terrible, was it so naive of you to hope maybe he wouldn't mind? that maybe the effort would flatter him instead of scare him away?
when you came to give back the card and receipt, his friends had gone. it was only him, taking up all that space in the booth.
he smiled when he saw you. it was soft. he was soft, this marble man.
you placed the check on the table. "there you are," you said, threading your empty hands together behind your back, part of you scared their idleness would lead to reaching for him. "thanks for coming," you added, then physically cringed.
thanks for coming? what, like this was some party you'd thrown?
he laughed, low and gentle, at your expression. of course, he was laughing at you. how could he not, with how you were acting? your head dropped like it was full of bricks as you flushed, as hot shame began to pull at the edges of your face.
but then you felt him take your chin in one of his large, rough hands, tilt your head back up high to meet his gaze. there was nothing but softness in his hands, in his eyes. no judgement, nothing of the sort.
his touch felt like drowning in flame, even in this small dosage, and you knew immediately it was too dangerously good. you swallowed.
when was the last time someone had touched you like this and you hadn't secretly wished they would only just leave you alone?
"thanks for inviting me," he said, playing along with your words so mercifully. "think maybe you'll have me again?"
you nodded, couldn't stop your shy smile. "maybe," you said, your voice a breath.
too soon, his hand was gone, leaving your face cold, lacking.
"can i tell you something?" you asked, quiet and hopeful.
"'course," he said, like he would never deny you such a request.
"i sort of feel like i've met you before," you said.
"i don't know," arber said thoughtfully, "think i'd remember someone like you."
your mouth ticked. "someone like me?"
he tilted his head, just looked at you for a moment, his gaze comfortable in its greed, its genuine appreciation. "why do you think we've met?"
you shook your head. "something about you," you said, trying to figure it out yourself. like i dreamed you up, you thought, are you real? are you sure?
his smile was subtle. "hope it's something good, eh? something like you?" too soon, he was signing his receipt, and then he was up, walking towards the door, to his waiting friends. "sweet dreams, darling," he said, like there was no one else in the pub, in this universe.
if he had told you as much, you would have believed him.
after a moment to catch your breath, you took the receipt from the table, found not only a generous tip but a phone number and a child-like scrawl that read coffee?
your head bowed in delight. when was the last time someone had asked you out? had not texted you deep into the night, at the time when the parties were ending and something much more terrifying was just beginning?
when was the last time you were nervous for a date, but the innocent kind of nervous?
you were that innocent kind of nervous when you approached the agreed-upon coffee shop several days later, at the middle of the day, between your classes.
there he was, standing in front of the cafe, hard to miss in stature and presence.
you had spent a scary amount of time deciding what to wear, eventually landing on what you wore everyday. you gave him a timid wave, were met with a confident wave back.
do i shake his hand? you thought. no, i've worn his jacket. maybe a high five?
your overthinking was quickly overwhelmed by the realization that he was pulling you in close for a hug.
you froze for a moment, your mind short-circuiting, your body uneasy, unused to such casual gentleness, ease.
your head against his chest, his arms all the way around you, you probably could have passed out. your mind mumbled something about cardiac arrest as you slowly hugged him back.
he smelled like the forest, like dull smoke and wooden fog.
"swear you get prettier every time i see you, darling," he said as you both pulled away, his eyes full of sweetness.
you had to close your eyes as you breathed out a laugh, already turning pink. "you sure know how to embarrass me," you said, teasing, trying to recover.
he held the door open for you as you both entered the cafe. "it's too tempting," he argued, smiling. "that blush you get..." he trailed off as if lost in his mind. sparks, smoke, flame, ash.
you knew the feeling.
he ordered some kind of sugar-bomb, practically a coffee milkshake, you ordered your usual flat white with soy milk.
and you were out of practice when it came to first dates, but it didn't seem to matter. he didn't seem to notice the pauses you took to think about your words, or if he did, he didn't say anything.
you learned that he was on the hockey team, that he was a volunteer fire-fighter for the school, about where he was from and his family.
he asked about your family, about your studies, about your job, what you did for fun.
and when you told him how much you loved your pre-dentistry classes, he made a joke and popped his fake tooth in and out, which made your laugh come so easy.
you told him how much you looked forward to seeing your sister, how funny your shift the day before had been, how much you loved your house's movie nights.
he asked about you, and it dawned on you that your last boyfriend had never truly asked you simple questions like that, and he certainly had never cared about the answers.
you had sudden flashbacks, you and your ex in bed, you asking him about his week, him giving you some dismissive response as if you had asked him if you could take out some of his teeth sans anesthesia.
how, towards the end, it had felt as if you were engaged in some kind of corrupt exchange, sex for tolerance of your curiosity, sex for tolerance of you.
the memory sent a shiver down your spine, a wave of shame. you could not go through that again. you refused to put yourself through that again.
through the relentless begging for something, for attention? no, begging to be treated like a person? like a girlfriend? begging for him to just be a little more gentle. yes, that's it. you had gone months feeling like nothing but a burdensome bag of stones he had reluctantly agreed to carry around, and you refused to feel that way again.
you just wanted gentle. you just wanted soft, and when arber waved a hand in front of your face to break you from your trance, you realized it might not be crazy to think you were close.
"you okay, darling?" he asked, concern lacing his expression. "lost you, hm?"
"'m okay," you said, shaking your head. "sorry, just thinking."
"'bout what?" he asked.
your heart jumped at the intimacy of being asked such. of someone wanting to know what was going on in your head.
so, you decided to be honest, to an extent. "'bout how 'm very happy to be here, with you," you said, looking him in the eye. feeling no desire to look away.
his face was so utterly pleased. he looked so beautiful then, the sun drenching the side of his face, lighting him up. "makin' me blush, now, darling," he said, and his tone made you swoon.
"sorry," you said, an instinct that made you want to smack yourself.
"don't apologize," he said immediately, "i know i'll get you back."
talking with him felt just so easy that you were again struck with a disbelief that you had only known him for a few days, had only spoken with him a couple of times. you felt like he was inside of your head, like he always had been. something you had never felt before, something that had you saying yes much too quickly when he asked if you wanted to come skating with him that weekend.
you had never skated before, but you were sure if he had asked you to watch paint dry, you would have said yes, because it would have been with him.
but the rational part of your brain was currently overwhelmed by fear, by insecurity, by the terror that you would lose this great thing before you had ever really had it.
"what was i thinking?" you said to your roommate as you struggled to find something to wear. "i have no idea how to skate! i'm going to look like an idiot!"
she waved you off. "you won't, you know you won't. deep breath."
you both took a breath together, tried to exhale some of your nerves.
the quiet that followed felt like another friend. you sighed, sat down on the edge of your bed, held your head in your hands.
"i can't keep thinking like this," you said to her and yourself. "i can't be so fucking scared all the time."
"c'mon, love," she said, sitting next to you and holding you tight. "what will feel better, do you think? coming home after avoiding rejection, walls intact?" she squeezed you. "or maybe coming home with another person to lean on?"
you both knew the answer. you wanted so badly to act accordingly, hoped your overactive mind would let you.
so, when you showed up at the rink, you made the ittiest-bittiest promise to yourself that you wouldn't let your fear get in the way.
if only you knew he would never have let you. that he could never be so easily scared.
he greeted you with a hug once again, and you held him tighter than you had the first time. "thanks for coming," he said, a spark of a shared inside joke in his eye.
"thanks for having me," you replied immediately, a mirroring smile on your face. "'m gonna be honest with you-"
"please do," he said immediately, and you could have melted.
"i have no idea how to skate," you rushed, "so i'm going to be very slow and probably fall and it's probably gonna get ugly."
he let you finish, an amused sort of smirk overtaking his mouth.
"what's so funny?" you asked, furrowing your brow.
"i think you're funny," he said, simply.
you scrunched up your face. "you makin' fun of me, arber?"
he laughed, then, low and rough and grumbly as he reached his hands around you and settled them on the small of your back. "oh, pretty baby, promise 'm not, yeah?"
you pouted, but rested your palms on his chest nonetheless.
his gaze cut through you. "don't expect you to be good at everything, okay? i'll help you," he explained. "just think it's funny you think anything you do could be ugly. imperfect isn't ugly."
"i'll prove you wrong," you said immediately, although you were flushed already, could feel yourself soften, your walls crumble just a bit.
his shoulders shook again. "promise you'll stick around long enough to?"
you had nothing to say to that. what could you ever say?
and then you were out on the ice, more off-balance than you had ever been, and not just because of the skates.
he held your gloved hands in his, tight but not restrictive, keeping his eyes on yours. you willed some of the steadiness in his gaze into your body, found stability in him and let it flow into you like water. he was basically pulling you, but you were moving, and you weren't falling, so you took it as a win.
"'atta girl," he said when you made a turn, soft, proud, and you could have laughed. surely he knew what he was doing, no?
your eyes darted up to his, found a lazy smirk, found your answer.
you shook your head, continued to push with your legs, gaining confidence, gaining balance. "turn off the dream boy for a second, would you?" his smirk deepened. "'m tryna focus, here."
"my fault, darling," he said, false apology saturating his voice as he suddenly dropped your hands. "by all means."
you stumbled forward into him immediately, your body unused to the ice without him to ground you.
you narrowed your eyes at him, looking up at his face, your palms against his chest, his arms around your waist. "not funny," you said, giving him a playful slap. "i could have broken something."
he shot you a look. "you honestly think i'd let that happen?"
your gaze dropped for a second. "no," you sighed. "no, i don't." a revelation in itself.
he pulled you closer, pressed his lips to your hair in a kiss that singed. so quick, you could have missed it. maybe you would have, if you hadn't been so unconditionally in tune to him, to everything he did, to every breath that shook his chest, to every quirk of his mouth and glint of his eye.
your heart sang at the affection you had been so lacking, had somehow missed even though you had never really had it.
so, of course it was a no-brainer when he asked you to come to his next home game.
"i'd really like if you were there," he said as he untied your skates for you, bent on one knee in front of you.
"then i'll be there," you said, flushed, because it was the easiest answer you had ever given. when he gave you that big smile in return, so genuine and goofy, you knew you would have a hard time saying no to anything he asked. just keep smiling at me, your mind begged him. that's all i ask.
the game came quickly, suddenly, after a busy week of shifts and school and everyday things. before you knew it, the day was here, and then you were in the stands, watching him skate like it was second nature, like it came easier than walking.
you had been able to tell at your rink date that he was steady on his feet, but this was different entirely. this was like seeing him at home, like watching him fall asleep.
and it beautiful, it was lovely, it was so intimate until two players started to fight and you realized one of them was him.
one of the people throwing punches that looked lethal, taking fists to the ribs, to the jaw, one of the people with a bleeding nose, a gashed lip, one of the people with blood running down his knuckles - that was your arber. your dream boy.
it wasn't, but it was you - you were the one throwing the right hook, you were the one doubled over, you were the one spitting out blood. you were equally the one punching and being punched. you had set the flame, you were burning.
was it terrible that you felt a little sick to your stomach? you clutched at the edge of your seat, exhaled a short breath, immediately decided you would rather leave than watch blood run down his face on the jumbotron.
as you left the arena, got into your car, drove back to your house, someone in your head was screaming at you, someone with a shrill, panicked voice was screamed scared, scared, scared, scared, scared and you didn't know how to get them to stop.
why are we running? you asked the voice in your head, what are we so afraid of?
what are you so afraid of?
because it wasn't him, you explained to your roommate at some later time, maybe the next day, after the desire to bathe in silence had been overcome by the desire to tell just about anyone.
you were not afraid of arber, knew there had never been anyone in the world more gentle with you. no, there had never been someone who had treasured your heart so truly, who had wanted to understand you to an almost scientific extent, who had dropped into your life like an asteroid and blown it apart just as similarly.
if not him, then what is there to fear?
what is there to fear, if not placing your beat-up heart in his bloodied hands? what is there to fear, if not the desire to press your lips to each of his cracked knuckles, the urge to know him to the point of no return, the want to feel his teeth on your neck, his fingers in your mouth?
sirens went off in your mind. scared, scared, scared.
scared of you, yourself, of offering yourself up to him, to being devastated by him. scared of being so completely vulnerable, of taking all your armor off, finally.
in the end, you were terrified of how scared seeing him hurt made you, because that meant you cared much more than you thought, perhaps much more than you had ever before.
how come no one told you that as much as being scared for yourself hurt, being scared for someone else, that was real fear, pure and undiluted.
a fear captivating enough that you decided to just not deal with it for days, to ignore his texts even though it hurt like a dagger to the chest.
he'll lose interest eventually, you thought, he'll leave me alone eventually. then, finally, i won't have to be scared.
so why did that admission feel like being burned at the stake? why was some small part of you screaming at you to stop?
regardless, you held fast for three days.
and then your roommate put rocks in the microwave.
so you and your housemates stood in the front yard, the air deja-vu-inspiringly cold, the situation almost exactly the same as that first night.
"what's wrong with you?" you whispered-yelled at her. "how do you accidentally almost blow up our house?"
she waved you off, pouted for a moment. "you know how forgetful i get."
"yeah, i don't know if forgetful is the adequate descriptor here," one of the other girls said. "i have a few more specific words in mind."
"oh, come on," you roommate said to the group as the fire truck siren began to yet again overwhelm the smoke alarm. "god forbid a girl make a mistake around here."
you didn't hear the rest of the bickering, too busy sending up a silent prayer, begging some god, any god to listen. please, don't be him. please, if there is anything good in this world, it won't be him.
but, of course, as soon as you saw the massive figure climb down from the truck, you paled.
there might not be anything good, some voice told you then, but perhaps there is something right.
"long time no see, ladies," the same older fireman said, and that was the last thing you heard. the last thing that any of your senses consumed before all of them were so brutally and totally overwhelmed by arber.
because what was he, if not overwhelming? especially now, after having deprived yourself of him for days? how had you managed that?
seeing him here, in front of you, you had no idea.
because he was here, in front of you, this beautiful oaken man, and his hair was messy under his helmet, and his face was flushed from the cold, and his five-o'clock shadow made his jaw sharper, and you could feel his warmth from here.
because he was here, walking to you, right in front of you, dropping his giant jacket onto your shoulders silently, somehow, somehow he was still that kind, and then he was whispering to you.
"alive, are you?" he murmured, as if he almost couldn't believe it.
and you felt so selfish then, the guilt growing like poison ivy in your veins, up your throat, until you couldn't open your mouth for fear that only three-pronged leaves would come out.
you looked up at him, met his eyes, found them burning but unreadable.
a pause that felt infinite deflated as you struggled for words. "listen, arber-"
but he shook his head, almost looked sorry. "don't think i will, darling," he whispered, the name making your stomach sink. someone screamed in your head. "don't care much for hearing why 'm not worth a phone call."
you were shaking your head before he even finished. "no, no, arber, please, that's not it-" your voice was so close to cracking, splitting apart like brittle wood.
"what is it, then?" he said, and you noticed a quiver in his voice too, a warning, "because i've been trying to come up with something for days, and every option i've got hurts."
oh, good god, you had made him hurt? that alone was dizzying.
dizzying and so, so sobering, enough for you to mutter something aloud about arber helping you turn the smoke alarms off, pull him into your house, up into your room.
you barely noticed the alarms subsiding, him hitting all of the necessary buttons wordlessly on his way up the stairs.
and then he was in your room, and you two were alone, and he was sitting on the edge of your bed, taking his helmet and boots off, crossing his arms across his chest.
"by all means," he prompted. "tell me i'm crazy, darling, please, please tell me i've got something wrong."
you took a breath, set the marionette puppets strings down, finally. there was no leading your limbs anywhere, no running words over one million time in your head until you had the right ones.
it was finally time to set aside the fear, to unfurl your forever clenched fists.
your exhale was liberating as you approached him, not touching him, not yet, but close enough so that you could see his eyes, so that he could see the revelation in yours.
"you're not crazy," you said, the softness in your voice surprising you. "i've been trying so, so hard to make you think i don't care."
he scoffed, ran a hand through his messy hair, mercifully waited for you to finish.
"and i'm so, so sorry that i didn't call, and that i left during your game, and that i treated you like you were anything but special, arber."
he looked up at you then, and you saw a soft spark of hope in his eyes that spurred you on.
it was silent for a beat, and then he reached for your hand, held it in his grip, warm and consuming.
"i thought i scared you away," he said, vulnerable, completely honest.
you squeezed his hand, stepped closer, cupped his jaw in your other palm. "i was afraid," you admitted, and that alone felt like salvation. "but not of you." you swiped at his cheekbone with your thumb. "never of you."
with a single swift motion he tugged you onto his lap, both of his hand on your hips. there might not be anything good, that voice whispered like a gossipy teen, but perhaps there is something right. perhaps this is it.
"tell me," he said, not an order but a request.
you would have told him anything, then, as you reached up to loop one arm around his neck, use the other hand to twist one of his curls around your finger. "i hated seeing you hurt," you confessed, moving your fingers down to trace lightly over the greenish bruise next to his eye, the healing gash on his lip. "you give me so much more to lose, baby."
he was silent, still, so close you could feel his shaky exhales on your hand. you willed yourself to finish your thoughts, refused to leave him anything but completely certain, even if it was hard to focus with him under you, against you, all around you. even under the exceptional spotlight of his undivided attention.
"i was lying when i acted like i didn't want you," you said, your tone every bit as ultimate as you felt. "and i understand if you don't forgive me, and i won't hold it against you, but i promise i won't lie to you again, okay?"
you held his face like it was made of glass. his grip on your hips tightened, eyes bursting further into flame.
"let me convince you," you pleaded, willing every genuine thing from your bones into your words. "you have to believe me, baby, i care so, so much. a scary amount."
and something in you sighed, swooned, when you saw that amusement you had missed creep back into his gaze like a fog on the ocean.
his thumbs rubbed circles into the flesh of your hips as you relaxed further into him. "scary, hm?"
you nodded, peered up at him through your lashes.
"how about this, darling?" he offered, voice a tired rasp. "i'll believe you if you do one thing for me, yeah?"
"anything," you said, meaning it more completely than anything before.
the glint in his eye was dangerous as his grip turned firmer. he gave a hum of approval. "tell me something true."
after trying just so deliriously, terrifyingly hard for so long, nothing had ever come easier. with him, now, the truth was easy as breathing. "i want you," you breathed, running your nails lightly down his neck, relishing in his stifled groan. "so, so bad, arber. need you, please." your chest rose and fell in a hurried breath. had you ever been so free of fear? so buoyant with hope, with courage?
he hoisted you up on his lap, pulled you against his chest until it felt as if there was barely enough air to share between the two of you. "good girl," he said, a rough, low, rasp, and he caught your whimper in his teeth as your lips met his.
his kiss felt like molten iron, like forest fire smoke, like initials carved into a heart on an ancient oak tree. he felt like sun on your face and like drowning, drowning, drowning, this kind of torture one you would happily submit to over and over again.
you tangled your hands in his hair as he groaned into your mouth, pulling you up on his lap until you could feel him, so big and hard under you that you let out a gasp.
he smiled against your lips at your reaction, and you knew there would never be anything so glutted with bliss.
you kissed him harder, with the urgency of a thousand missed chances as he rocked you back and forth across his lap, slipping his hands under the waistband of your sleep shorts, his hands now scorching your bare skin.
"look so good in my jacket, darling," he rasped, "let me take it off, hm? want to see you."
you shrugged it off in obedience, placed both your hands on his chest and looked him in the eye, pleading.
one of his hands brushed your hair away from your face, gentle, soft, as you had always known him to be. he dragged his thumb down to your swollen lip, let it rest there for a moment.
"'f you want something, just ask," he grumbled, transfixed by your mouth. "know i'll give you anything you want 'f you ask for it, darling."
you pulled at his shirt, willed any oncoming flush or fear away. "please can i suck you off, arber?"
his smirk was devastating, delicious. "pretty baby wants me in her mouth?"
you nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips.
"course you can, darling, askin' so pretty for me, too."
you glowed at his praise, sunk down to your knees, admired him as he pulled away at his layers of clothes until finally you could reach for him, hold him in your hand, hot and heavy and just so big, so much so that you couldn't help your eyes widening, your mouth watering.
he groaned at your touch, tilted his head back and scrunched his eyes shut at the sensation of your soft palms on his cock.
you hid your grin, spit into your hands and pumped him up and down a few times before taking him in your mouth, making him moan, almost growl as he gathered all of your hair, wrapped it around his fist, the other hand bracing him against your bed.
"fuck, darling," he rasped, watching you bob your head up and down, "feels so good, so good for me, hm?"
you would have nodded, but instead you were overcome with a desire to take more of him, as much as you could. so you sunk your head down further, until your eyes watered, until air came in short spurts, until you gagged, felt him grow impossibly harder in your mouth.
he gripped your hair tighter, making you moan on his cock. "oh, darling, you want more, hm?"
you hummed, looked up at him through watery lashes, reddening eyes.
"want to take it all, do you?" he asked, "just want me to feel good, is that it?"
you moaned in affirmation, sunk your head down on him again, as far as you could go, relished in his groan, the way his thighs tensed, the way his forearms flexed.
already, your jaw was growing stiff, your shoulders strained, your knees warm from the carpet. too soon, though, he was pulling you up off of him, up from your knees back on top of him, wiping the spit from the sides of your mouth with his thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to your tired lips.
you pouted, wanting more still, and his shoulders shook in a low laugh. "not done, darling?"
you shook your head, ran your nails across his shoulders, down to his biceps, loved the way you could feel shivers erupt under your fingertips.
"i'll give it to you if you ask," he reminded you, simply, because of course it was that simple, that gentle.
you pressed your lips to his chest, his neck, his jaw, bit down softly on his collarbone. "please fuck me," you begged against his skin, "been wanting it forever, arber, need you to fuck me, need you to stretch me out."
in a moment he flipped you so that your hips were angled up to him, your chest against your bed, your cheek to your sheets.
"been waiting, have you, darling?"
you whined, nodded.
"no more waiting," he said, running his fingers through your folds, already so wet, "promise, no more waiting, pretty baby, okay?"
"please," you mustered, the end of the word becoming strangled as he began to push into you. it was altogether too much - every possible voice inside of you screaming too much and not enough in some cacophonous harmony.
his groan was raw, full of relief, release, confirmation. he held onto your hip tightly with one hand, the other wrapping around your stomach to keep you grounded, keep you here as you felt like you were floating away.
the pressure was dizzying, staggering, enough that your breathing was choked, your mind completely clouded, your already watery eyes just barely holding back tears.
you reached a hand back to grasp at his forearm as he pushed further, almost all the way inside of you. you whimpered as the stretch reached a peak, as he stilled, making the stray, warm tears finally fall down your cheeks, hang on your jaw before collecting on the sheets under you.
"so pretty when you cry, darling," he breathed, tight and short as you adjusted to him, and he to you.
"please, arber, just move, hm?" you pleaded. "need it, please."
his embrace around your middle tightened as he began to move in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, almost undetectable.
"so whiny, hm?" he bit out. "pretty baby knows what she wants?"
you nodded feverishly. "just give it to me, baby, please, just let me take it."
"don't know if you can," he said, and you pouted. "don't want to hurt you, hm?"
you clutched at his forearm, began to fuck back onto him, determined to get the motion and pace you needed so desperately.
"want it to hurt, arber, please, please give me all of it," you spoke with all of the greed of a sinner seeking salvation. "need all of it."
he abandoned any qualms about hurting you, immediately adopting a brutal pace, so hard and deep you swore your teeth began to chatter. you bit out a choked moan, grabbed at your sheets with your fist, scrunched your eyes shut at the pressure building inside of you.
his grunts grew rhythmic in time with his thrusts. "feel so good, know that, darling?" he rasped. "being so fuckin' perfect for me."
you hummed in response, gasped when he ran a hand across your clit, making you clench tighter around him.
he cursed at the sensation, continued to tease you as he thrusted deeper.
"like that," you breathed, growing dangerously close, "fuck, just like that baby, right there."
"gonna make me cum, darling," he warned, pressing his palm flat against your clit, the friction maddening. "feel too good."
"please cum for me, baby," you begged, your voice raw, "need it so bad, arber, need all of you." you moaned. "fuck, give me all of it."
he groaned as he came, triggering your own orgasm, an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed you utterly and entirely. you felt him collapse on top of you, barely registered him pulling you into his side as you both caught your breath in comfortable silence.
moments passed slowly, thick like aged honey, fragrant, sweet.
he lazily traced his thumb across your cheekbone, down your jaw, your collarbone. eventually, you looked up at him, found his eyes full of something homely.
you thought briefly about how you looked in that moment, what he was seeing - spit on your face, skin probably splotchy and red in places from wear, hair fussed and skin sparkling with sweat.
notably, though, the thought evoked no fear, not even for a moment. because you were beautiful like this, like always.
you exhaled a breath, soft, gentle, and buried some ancient curse with it.
the silence was blissful. eventually you heard loud footsteps on the wooden hallway steps, eye widening as you realized there were other people that lived in this house, in this room.
you pressed a hand to his chest to prepare him. "sweetness!" you called out. "do not come in here!"
"why?" came your roommate's voice through the door. "is there a fire?"
you exchanged a look with arber.
"kidding!" she added, her voice growing more distant. "i'll be in the kitchen. big guy, chief left without you!"
your shoulders shook in a pleased, peaceful laugh. he smiled at you, then, a warm, soft smile with teeth, and what was there left to do but smile right back? "what'm i supposed to do, darling?" he asked.
you got up, slowly, reluctantly, tied your robe from the bathroom around yourself, handed him his clothes. "c'mon," you said, "i'll show you the kitchen."
he leaned forward, pressed a soft kiss to your lips before tugging on his clothes, grabbing his helmet.
i'll show you everything went unsaid by you, but not misunderstood by him.
he held your bedroom door open, holding your gaze with a goofy grin. "after you," he rasped.
you bowed past him and wordlessly told the picture frames in the hallway to behave, we have guests.
fin.
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thewalkingthread · 6 months
Text
"I've been thinking" - D.D.
pairing: daryl dixon x f!reader
summary: After witnessing how good Daryl takes care of Judith and RJ, you think it's about time y'all have one of your own.
warning: fluff
a/n: I love soft Daryl.
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You and Daryl had been through more than your fair share of hardships, having faced the trials of the apocalypse together. Your bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, after the war in Commonwealth settled, you and your community found a place to call home. Despite the chaos of the world outside, you had finally had a semblance of peace and security among friends, new and old. Hell- you guys even had a dog now.
It was sunny today, Judith and RJ ran around on the street with some of the other kids. They screamed and hollered as they played tag, a heart melting smile spread across their faces. Just kids being kids.
You and Daryl sat on the front porch of your house with Dog. Daryl's crossbow rested against the wall as he sharpened the points of his arrows. You watched the kids, you had a smile that mirrored their contagious ones.
"You okay?" Daryl asked, his voice soft, he glanced at you briefly before he continued to work on his arrows.
You nod your head, your eyes still fixated on the kids. "I've been thinking,"
"That can't be good," Daryl scoffed, teasingly. You roll your eyes, reaching over and bumping his shoulder with your fist. "Bout wha?" He asks.
You shrug your shoulders, glancing down at the glass of water in your hands. "The future." You said simply.
Daryl looked up, curiosity evident in his stormy blue eyes. "The future, huh? What's on your mind?" He placed the arrow on the table, giving you his undivided attention.
"Well," You began, a faint blush coloring their cheeks, "I've been thinking about this for a while, but it never seemed like the right time. I mean these past few years have been so... crazy." You wince.
"But now, everything feels right. We're safe. Here, in commonwealth. The kids are safe here, we've got something good going. Something real." You hated saying it, knowing you felt the exact same way with the prison, with Alexandria. I don't think anywhere in this world would ever be safe, but here felt like it.
"We've been dealt some shitty cards. With Rick and Michonne gone, we've basically been given all their responsibility. I know we have to lead these people. I know we have to keep Jude and RJ safe. But I can't help but notice how great you are with Judith and RJ. You're a natural, Daryl. We take care of them like they're our own and-" Your voice trails off, losing the confidence to finish.
"Spit it out, woman." He grunts, staring into your eyes knowingly.
"I want to expand our family... Have one of our own?" You raise an eyebrow, "I wouldn't mind a little Dixon running around."
Daryl paused, his hands grasping yours. He looked at you with the softest eyes, his heart swelling with love and tenderness. "You serious?"
You nodded, your eyes never leaving his. "Yeah, Daryl. I am. I think we're ready. I mean you're obviously going to be one hell of a dad."
Daryl's rough exterior couldn't hide the softness that your words had brought out in him. He scooted closer to you, holding both of your hands tightly in his. "You really think that?"
You smiled, your love for Daryl shining in your eyes. You've been with Daryl from the beginning. Him and Merle found you alone in a convenient store the day everything went to shit. After months of pining over each other you finally bit the bullet at the prison and made it official. Though the two of you been through hell the past 10 years you're here, together.
"Absolutely. I've seen the way you protect and care for those kids, the way you take care of me. It makes my heart ache with how much I love you. We're building something here. I want to start a family with you."
Daryl leaned in, capturing your lips with a tender kiss. It felt just like it did the first time all those years ago. "I love you too, Y/N. Let's do it. We'll make it work, no matter what. Us against the world. The way it's always been."
His arms wrapped around your body and pulled your close to him.
"Are you two okay?" Judith's voice caused the two of you to pull away from each other. Her eyebrow was raised suspiciously at you two. You and Daryl both burst into a fit of chuckles.
"How would you feel helping Auntie Y/N out with a baby?" Daryl's voice was scuffed. Judith's eyes just about popped out as she jumped into y'alls lap.
"Yes, yes, yes!" She cheered. "About time!" She laughed. Dog barked, oblivious to what was happening but happy to see everyone happy.
You and Daryl exchanged amused glances. Deep down inside you both knew you'd be okay. Whatever happened next, you'd handle it together.
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kikiyoomis · 7 months
Text
you've accepted the fact that sakusa does not enjoy physical affection. early on in your relationship you did try to initialize some small forms of physical affection but you were always met with the expression of repulse and so you quickly gave it up. so now, almost a year into your relationship there has been little to no physical affection between you and sakusa.
"so you haven't even had your first kiss even though you've been dating someone for almost a year?" your friend says, baffled at the thought of it.
"f/n nevermind their first kiss they haven't hugged or even held hands," your other friend pipes in.
"wow, y/n you're really a virgin in all aspects."
"guys it's really not that bad. he's a nice guy and physical affection isn't everything," you say sheepishly but you can't help but agree with them to some extent.
you too, aren't someone that needs physical affection as a form of love but you do enjoy it. and a little ashamed to admit it, but you do get touch starved sometimes.
there are many nights where you wished that sakusa would just hug and hold you to comfort you on your rough nights or give you a kiss in appreciation. even though he's willing to call and listen to you rant, sometimes all you want is just a hug from him as a form of comfort.
so your solution to this, was to by plushies as his hug replacement.
the first time he came over to your place roughly seven months into your relationship, he was shocked at the amount of plushies you acquired. you remember coming up with excuses about how they were so cute you couldn't help yourself but you were too embarrassed to tell him the real reason.
"i'm so happy that you're available today for a date," smile happily as you take a bite out of the homecooked meal sakusa made for your anniversary.
"i took the day off," sakusa says, taking off his apron before taking a seat across from you. you look up in surprise but you're greeted with sakusa's soft smile. "does it taste good?"
"yes it tastes amazing but why did you take the day off? the tournament is starting soon," you say. sakusa rarely took days off especially when tournaments are around the corner. you were sure that when he said that he was available today that meant that the entire team was given the day off.
"because you're important too. i wanted to celebrate this milestone with you." you face flushes red at his statement so you busy yourself with the food to hide your embarrassment.
"...thank you for taking the day off then," you say quietly, heart fluttering just like when you had a crush on him.
"y/n, there's something i want to talk to you about."
and just like that, your heart instantly drops to your stomach. what could he want to talk about? he literally made your heart flutter just a moment ago but now he makes it feel like it weighs a thousand tons all of a sudden?
"w-what do you want to talk to me about?" you stutter out, nervousness evident in your voice.
"it's nothing to worry about but..."
"but?"
"i've been thinking for a while that uh..." sakusa's face suddenly starts to turn red. so much so that the tips of his ears are also turning red. from the sweet and confident air that he had just a moment ago suddenly turned nervous and bashful.
"... thinking that... you..." he mumbles out.
"pardon?" you ask, not quite hearing what he said.
"i said, that i've been thinking about how i wanted our relationship to be more... "
"kiyoomi i literally cannot hear what you're saying," you say, suddenly wondering what he wants with you.
he rests his chin in one of his palms and he turns away from you so that all you can see is the back of his head and his bright red ears.
"i want a more physical relationship with you. i want to hug and kiss you y/n"
your eyes widen in shock. was this the same guy that displayed an expression of disgust whenever someone's hands accidently touches him? who is this and where did your boyfriend go?
"but i thought that you..." you trail off, not believing your ears.
"i wanted to for a while actually, but i thought you didn't like it so i held off on it. there were times where all i could think about was how nice it would've been if i wasn't a coward to just give you hugs and kisses like a normal boyfriend would," sakusa says sheepishly.
this was a new sakusa that you've never seen. in fact you don't think anyone has ever seen sakusa like this.
you quickly get up from your chair and walk around the table to sakusa's seat and without any hesitation you throw your arms around him.
"kiyoomi you're actually so stupid!" you laugh as sakusa jolts in surprise at your sudden back hug. but he quickly relaxes into your touch and turns so that he wrap an arm around your waist.
"yea, yea i'm stupid," he smiles before quickly planting a chaste kiss on your cheek. "happy one year my love, no need to hug those plushies when you have me" he whispers before hiding his bright red face into the crook of your neck.
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blacknedsoul-blog · 8 months
Text
The divorce of the White Raven was the chronicle of a foretold death
Now that the White Raven divorce officially begins tomorrow. I wanted to do a little review of why I've been looking forward to this moment for over 40 chapters and the delicious drama to come. 
The chapters of Annabel and Lenore talking in the greenhouse are wonderful for many reasons, but mainly because they lay the groundwork for what the conflicts in their relationship will be from now on, simply put: these two just aren't on the same page. 
Annabel wants to save them both, Lenore wants to save everyone.
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Annabel calls Lenore "my favorite," "my darling," and "my petal"; Lenore understands "my companion animal" (and Annabel doesn't bother to clarify). 
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Lenore says they are friends; Annabel clearly knows they were a couple.
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Annabel tries to kiss her goodbye on the lips; Lenore kisses her hand. 
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As the comic progresses -and especially with the last chapter released by the Freepass- the more fundamental root of this problem becomes more apparent: the White Raven don't really know each other, they think they do and, incidentally, insist on not listening to each other.
The Annabel Lenore Knows
The "disappointment rooms" are a Victorian myth (I say "myth" because there is no evidence that they were a widespread practice, although there are cases like Blanche Monnier's, they did not seem to be particularly common. But they exist in this comic, so they will be treated as real in this essay) were isolated rooms where a family member with a mental illness or physical deformity was kept isolated from the world, making him or her an outcast. 
We don't know the real reasons why Annabel wanted to get close to Lenore (this scene make it clear that it was of her own free will, something Lenore knows), but anyway, this was extremely strange at the time, the kind of thing that could severely damage someone's reputation if it became public.
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In other words, for Lenore, Annabel not only pulled her out of the spiral of madness she was in, made her feel alive again, and treated her like a person (something that hadn't happened since Theo's death); she also put her reputation on the line to get closer to "the crazy woman in the attic". 
Add to that the fact that Annabel, like Lenore, is someone with an extremely protective personality, albeit in a much more subtle way: containing Lenore's outbursts by trying to distract her, complimenting her when she doubts herself, trying to give her a sense of purpose by asking her to write her a song, and automatically containing her own panic attack when she sees Lenore's horrified expression. 
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To Lenore, Annabel is someone who would rather destroy something that makes her happy and be hated than let Lenore suffer for her absence.
This is a gigantic contrast to the Annabel readers know, yes, the basics are there: she is seen to genuinely care about Prospero, and gratuitous violence against someone who cannot defend himself infuriates her. But Lenore does not dimension how Annabel's methods of survival (shaped by her trauma of not being heard, reasons why she machines her way through people) make her a Machiavellian, manipulative and cold-blooded person. 
The last time Lenore saw Annabel in a situation where she could do nothing, she saw her give up. But readers know that this time, Annabel is willing to burn absolutely everything down to get them both out of it.
That is why the Duke affair takes her by surprise. Never mind that Annabel has said she's willing to destroy or trample anyone to get out of Nevermore. The Annabel Lenore knows would not be capable of that.
The Lenore Annabel knows
This part is more difficult to analyze, because unfortunately Annabel's memories are tied to big mysteries within the plot. On the plus side, this comic is excellent at dropping large amounts of information at the point of detail. 
The most obvious: Annabel is carrying around the ring Lenore had when she burned down her house, in other words, "Leo's" charade worked so well that the two of them got engaged. In other words: Annabel has seen this woman burn down a family home (perhaps with servants inside), fake her own death, steal, take a continental trip, change her identity and pose as a man, all to save her from an arranged marriage. 
A very "you and me against the world" situation. A scenario Lenore made possible by lying to basically everyone, even Annabel herself, who must have spent at least a few months believing Lenore was dead until "Leo" knocked on her door. 
Add to that these two scenes: in the first, Annabel seems pretty convinced that Lenore has a good idea of what's going on here...
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And in this one, Annabel thinks Lenore is doing this out of guilt.
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Again, this is a huge contrast to the Lenore we readers have seen throughout the comic: a person who desperately wants to show others the affection and security that no one (except Theo and Annabel) has given her. A mix of a naturally vivacious and caring personality with traumas from which her need for control stems from anxiety and a terrible fear of abandonment. 
In this light, Annabel putting Duke in danger to keep Montressor away from Lenore was something that was informed, known, and something that Lenore would agree with, because the Lenore she knows would be willing to sacrifice anything to achieve her goal. 
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In that sense, that scene is foreshadowing. Not only did Lenore trick her into using a memory that Annabel does not have, but it comes right after Annabel confidently says that "no one knows Lenore better than she does.
The masks
One of the most painful tragedies of the White Raven relationship (besides the fact that it ended with both of them dead) is that one of the two has had to wear a mask on both sides of it: Annabel pretending that this relationship isn't as deeply ingrained in her as it really is, and then Lenore doing the whole "Leo" thing to be "the perfect fiancé" in everyone else's eyes.
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Their divorce is imminent because both of them (especially Annabel) are projecting onto the other the expectations they have that are a product of the few memories they have been able to recover, rather than really looking at the person in front of them. 
I'm going to enjoy all the beautiful character development that comes from here on out, because they both have a lot of unpacking to do separately from this divorce arc. And, I hope that, when they can finally reconcile, we also get to see how, for the first time in the history of their relationship, Annabel and Lenore can actually see eye to eye.
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vesora · 9 months
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is it a real problem or are you trapped in your mind?
this one goes to my anxious girlies
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the past few weeks I've been extremely trapped in my mind, ruminating whether someone would backstab me or whether a friend would leave me and of course there is no evidence of that in real life, it's all in mind. that being said, deep down i know that nothing would happen and im sure deep down you all know as well that nothing would happen. but the what ifs are so strong that you can't handle yourself practising the law.
this doesn't mean you can't manifest during this time, we always manifest, just now you can consciously manifest things you want. e.g. I wanted a psychic message from someone and I received it; I got money when I needed it; I never wait for public transport even if the app shows that it is coming in like 30 minutes (because we don't pay attention to 3d). I've noticed my anxious and extremely intrusive thoughts never manifest, especially after learning the law so I don't want you to be scared of your own mind. You, as the supreme being and consciousness ARE your mind but your mind is not you. In the grand scheme of things, the mind is unreal so what would the "3d" listen to? Some jumble of anxious fearful thoughts that do not exist except from when you aware of it or the command of God themselves?
all in your (unreal) mind:
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don't punish yourself, stop harming yourself by trapping yourselves in your mind. simply drop the thought. if you find that hard, you can work on it by eliminating the possibilities but from experience, that still never makes the fear go away. the fear is so primal, so noticeable that the only way it feels it can go away for me is if I end everything and thats not good right? why would God be a victim to her character's thoughts? Why wouldn't God just change the garment?
The hardest thing is to just ACCEPT. "Just accept you have it" was the hardest thing for me to apply because soras entire life was just finding every possible solution for the worst case scenario in case people hurt her or I am seen in a way that doesn't represent her (aka being misunderstood). See how i am using her and sora to describe things I experienced? It's because I have the POWER to completely eradicate any trauma or any pain by just choosing to adorn myself in another state. I am not sora but sora is me, therefore I have control over soras experiences. You are not a victim to your circumstance, when you find the law you have the power to create your own life, you create new circumstances by adopting a new version of yourself. You are in control no matter what the unreal mind says.
breathe in, breathe out:
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Excuse my language but honestly fuck the mind???? It only knows what it has learned from its surroundings and you are above the surroundings so why would you listen to such a limited thing?
Do you think if you dismiss the thoughts you won't be prepared for what you think is about to come? Do you feel you constantly have to be on defense mode protecting yourself either from physical or emotional harm?
I understand, I was the same way and sometimes I still revert back to it. However the thing is, who is creating whats about to come? YOU ARE! Don't you get it? Nothing can happen without your consent (once you accept your power of course). You are not a victim to circumstances. You are never the receiver, you are always the creator. Bask yourself in lovely states with lovely thoughts. It is okay if you do not believe it or if your body is resisting it, just please persevere. We can't let anxiety win. What is anxiety to a God?
our negative beliefs falling after we disown them:
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Read this by Edward Art
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reasonsforhope · 11 months
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How can I stay positive regarding the wildfires?
It can be really hard in the face of so much destruction. I don't know how much anyone can specifically stay positive in the face of disasters like this -
but I can give you some thoughts about how to let hope live alongside everything else you're feeling about this, and how to avoid spiraling and remember that this is not proof that we're doomed.
Possibly relevant note lol is that I've lived my whole life in California, so suffice to say figuring out how to move forward among the consequences and destruction of massive wildfires is something I'm definitely not new to.
I remember walking to my classroom in elementary school, about 20 years ago now, and it was literally snowing ash around me. This too shall pass.
Take a few deep breaths. I know it's cliche but it's also important
Zoom out in terms of perspective: Wildfires can make the sky look apocalyptic (like I said, I have lots of experience with this!), but they are regional, and they always end. These wildfires are awful but this specific wave of fires is happening in just one country in a huge, huge world. There's far more land that isn't burning
Canada is about to get substantial international aid in fighting the wildfires - there are already 200 additional firefighters headed over from the US and France, and Canada (Quebec specifically) is also already in talks with Costa Rica, Portugal, and Chile about additional firefighters/resources. Help is on the way and these numbers really will make a big difference, and as the disaster continues (unfortunately it is uh...pretty early in fire season), more help will be sent. People are doing what they can to help, because in the face of disaster, that's what we're wired to do
There are actually MUCH better fire management plans than just about anyone is using, esp in North America but that we COULD implement and increasingly WILL going forward. A lot of the wildfire situation these days is because of the West's incredibly wrongheaded derision toward traditional Indigenous land and ecosystem management practices, including cultural prescribed burns that keep massive wildfires from happening. California in particular is already partnering with several First Nations to revive prescribed burns, to significant success. As fires continue to be terrible, more and more places will get on board with this. We can and will implement practices that will truly change our situation
Cultural burns work because, ironically, the reason for the wildfires is that "is that we've been so good at putting out every fire possible that it has led to overly dense forests and a buildup of burnable material like branches and dry vegetation" that makes wildfires much worse in a number of ways. At lower intensity, however, as with cultural burns, forest fires can actually have huge environmental benefits
Finally, every time a natural disaster happens like this, as awful and destructive as they are, it serves as a wake-up call for thousands of people and adds both ever-mounting urgency and ever-mounting evidence to the importance of fighting climate change, which really does translate into action. For a lot of people, "saving the environment" feels super distant - but you know what feels super immediate? Saving their homes from burning down (or getting flooded or otherwise destroyed, etc. etc.) In 2021, the UN ran the world's largest climate survey, across 1.2 million people and 50 nations, and almost TWO-THIRDS SAID THAT CLIMATE CHANGE IS A GLOBAL EMERGENCY THAT WE NEED TO WORK HARDER TO ADDRESS. Imagine that 10 years ago! That other third of people aside, this really is real and massive progress
Also, every time there's a big disaster like this, climate change deniers look more and more baldly ridiculous. Think about it: How often did you hear US Republicans bullshitting about climate change denial 10 years ago? And how often do you hear them doing it now? In fact, there's increasing evidence that Republicans really are shifting on climate change (mind you they're managing to do it in an obnoxiously somehow pro-fossil-fuel way, but it's still a major sea change). Some of them are literally calling for a clean energy transition, and Kevin McCarthy himself (guy in charge of the US House right now) created a task force for to a conservative climate change agenda that acknowledges climate change is real. There's now a conservative climate conference that does active lobbying and a House Conservative Climate Caucus, which somehow has SIXTY MEMBERS. Again, something that would've been unimaginable just six or seven years ago.
Every acre that the fires burn this year is an acre that's pretty guaranteed to not burn next year, for what that's worth. (And I do think it's worth mentioning, esp with such a high number of acres)
The battles are going to be hard, but I truly believe that even the ones we lose often bring us closer to winning the war.
Fires burn, but life always grows back.
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magicstormfrostfire · 5 months
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Something that confuses me a lot is some people's reactions/analysis to Sonic saving Shadow in the void in Sonic Prime.
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Don't get me wrong, I LOVE it, and its parallels to what happened in SA2. That is incredible. But what confuses me is that a lot of people assume that in this show, SA2 happened and Sonic is losing Shadow again.
But I don't think that's the case...? I know it was said that the show follows modern games/everything is canon, but I dont think that means what some people think it means. I've seen some people criticize this interpretation of Sonic BECAUSE they think all of the games happened in this universe.
What I understood is that this is simply using the current ongoing personalities/traits/styles of the modern Sonic characters in games, but this is NOT the same universe. Its a different one. The direction they are going with the characters in Sonic Prime is writing them closer to their mainline game counterparts, just in a different universal setting. The universe is just not as drastic of a difference as say, Movie!Sonic or Sonic Boom's universe. (Which i think is why they made a point to say its following mainline Sonic; because Boom is a universe with its own games, Sonic, and canon as well.)
This is also why I think so many people judge Sonic Prime on what Sonic should know, how he should act, and what he should have learned from. But this is a different universe Sonic! He's a lot more naive and learning to get around. Its why I interpeted that Sonic catching Shadow was not ptsd of losing him again, it was fear of losing him period. This is very likely this Sonic's first world-saving scenario; he's use to just stopping Eggman's latest 'Robot of the week'. He is out of his depth with the shatterverse situation.
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Now, I think its totally fair if this kind of 'new & naive' direction with Sonic's character turns people off, or if they dislike/hate it. This is not me trying to pursuade people into liking it if they don't. This is not me saying 'hey if you dislike this, its prolly because you're interpreting it wrong and if you see it this way you will like it.' But I constantly see people criticize the show for not taking into account things that happened in games. Or in this case, praising it for taking account events in the games. Those things didnt happen here! This is a different Sonic!
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Of course, I could absolutely be wrong, and if I am, that's fine. But honestly it feels like they're making a different Sonic altogether, and frankly it wouldnt make sense for this to be the exact same Sonic.
So I guess my overall point is that I kind of feel like Prime is being saddled with game expectations it literally cannot meet, via being a different universe. Like I said, hate it, love it, idc I'm not your mom. I just think that this needs to be said and added to the conversation.
('Everything is canon' means 'every interpretation is valid'. Sonic has different universes, so its a lot more validating to fans to say everything happened, instead of alienating entire swathes of fans who all experienced Sonic differently through different media, by saying their experience isn't 'real' or 'true' anymore. And I think the more people realize this, the less people will argue 'evidence XYZ in game and this comic and the Japanese version of this podcast, and this game dev, and this episode, and this writer contradict your theory of Sonic hugging people' you do not need canon as gospel to validate why you like or dislike a certain take.)
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Sonic in general is so fun because of how freeform and multiverse and endless it is. We haven't had that in a long time. There are things I love and things I hate, but not because of how closely they follow mainline. Its because I just like or hate it. We should cultivate this new growth and diversity, not prune it to fit into one shape. 🌱
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i've said this before and so have a lot of other people, but i feel like it bears saying again because shane and ryan's methods really are so unique.
i'm a believer in the paranormal but i hate most paranormal investigation shows and i turn into the biggest, most judgment skeptic when i watch them. i'm so fucking critical of everything these people are doing. except ryan and shane, mostly, i think, because of the balance of ryan's belief and fear of the paranormal and shane's skepticism and utter disrespect, as well as the fact that they don't take themselves of the "craft" too seriously. they just go out and say shit in dark, creepy buildings and hope they manage to record some kind of response.
ryan has more critical thinking skills than most other paranormal investigators, and seems more genuine and reasonable. he's not out to try to pass fake or dubious evidence off as real just for the ratings or to try to prove his point; if he thinks a piece of evidence is suspicious or seems blatantly fake, he'll say so. and shane's skepticism is also important because if ryan starts to lose perspective, shane just has to say "i think that was the wind" or "actually that just sounds like someone's shoe squeaking" and ryan, a lot of the times, will take that into consideration (even if he acts annoyed sometimes) and if it's a more logical explanation, he'll accept it.
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valsunrye · 1 month
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(update)
People have "supposedly" (we are unsure if this is true) doxxed Alex Kister along with her parents. Tumblr, TikTok, Reddit, and Twitter are currently virtual battle grounds on the TMC side. Specifically, Twitter and Reddit. Despite my own siding with the victims, I think that the situation has started to reach dangerous territory and spiral out of control due to the reckless behavior of some. The internet still hasn't received an official response from Alex, and we may not if things continue to be escalated in this way. Although, I've heard from (unreliable) sources that Alex is still currently working on her response and will soon enough complete it, if true, we'll see what that brings.
Please understand that even if what Alex has done was terrible, doxxing under these or any circumstances could very well get a person KILLED. Some say that the document by Stirring contains some transfemmisogynistic or transphobic wording? towards Alex, along with Stirring's Tumblr post. Stirring has stated himself that he does not consider himself a victim of Alex. A lot of people keep spreading misinformation about the original document; important clarifications or additions on the situation by some involved keep being deleted, which only adds to the confusion. And due to it, people in and out of the community are becoming more angry and hostile towards each other over this.
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And as of the 21st, Stirring has also tweeted out a small apology for what may have been the misuse of the word grooming in his post (pieces of which will be shown next). He has clearly clarified that both himself and DB are adults in said Tumblr post, along with taking responsibility for not doing so off the bat. And in saying that, this seems to clear up the fact that the messages with sexual comments from Alex, the screen recordings of which were posted by StirringJuice on Twitter, are all between adults and not minors as some might've initially assumed. 
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Although this MAY (very unsure of this) not have been grooming in a traditional sense, Alex's interactions with her younger audience were still highly inappropriate as well as concerning. Alex has misused her platform. And her victims have still been hurt by her. As someone who's been through years of what may have been emotional abuse? irl and was only recently able to almost completely acknowledge it due to myself often defending the one who did it in my mind, those who defend everything Alex's done concern me. It's hard to even get yourself to realize that someone who was once close to you has hurt you, nevermind saying it to an entire online community, only to have people try to deny it ALL. I can't imagine what that must feel like.
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Some of those staying neutral/wanting to hear both sides and etc., have been harassed, given death threats, and accused of a miriad of things as retaliation, things that can actually RUIN someone's life and put them in jail; things that they hadn't even done. A person was infact going to end their own life over the situation due to this harassment and real life issues they faced, but luckily enough, they were just in time stopped from following through by a family member of theirs. The people on the other side aren't necessarily all the "evil, awful, parasocial "monsters."" You see them as, some of them haven't even seen a singular volume of TMC, nor know who Alex is. Do not commit actions online that could result in any real life deaths. This is unacceptable.
Realize that no matter how much evidence you may place down on the metaphorical table, skepticism and questioning by some will always be something bound to happen. One cannot simply attack, harass, give death threats to and attempt to doxx others for it. I myself do not condone doxxing. The amount of danger you put on someone's life and those around them by doing so is immense, it's abhorrent. This has been one of the worst fandom responses I've seen in quite awhile.
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The Mandela Catalogue is not fetish material! This was confirmed as misinformation by StirringJuice, so stop saying that it is because it is not. As it is with many of my other interests, I'll be separating the art from the artist, so I will be staying in the community. (art ≠ artist) If you want to cut off association from TMC, I understand. But if you do not and people are pressuring you, know that I support you in staying. You do not have to force yourself to leave. Other fandoms have had similar issues with creators in the past. I could list multiple examples, but I won't.
If you want to delete your fanworks, do not pressure others to do the same. And if you're not completely sure, you do not have to give up on your AU's, delete all artwork, hcs, or destroy any merchandise you may have bought; doing so will not bring back any money spent. I believe that you do not have to give up your interest as long as you no longer support Alex financially. Your fanart and edits (perhaps you can attempt to pirate the series for those as others pirate the game Omori also due to the creator), etc. make her no money, so do not destroy your creations and hard work unless certain that you want to. You don't need to leave this fandom if you do not want to. 
Dear TMC fans, fictives, coping links, kinnies, and everyone else out there in the community, this isn't your fault at all. Please don't beat yourself up over loving, having loved, or hyperfixating on a fandom. Sources and interests don't make us bad people by association; no matter what anyone else says, remember we are not the creator, like what you like. I know the situation is stressful; stay strong. If people harass you, block them. If mutuals unmutual you due to fear of being associated, they were never there to stay in the first place. The real ones will stick with you through this; trust me, I know. My own who matter have not left me. 
I know you're scared, perhaps sad, disappointed or extremely angry but I believe we'll get through this.
And remember, although awful, this will pass.
🫂
Big hugs. I love you all♥️ -Eve
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cosmicjoke · 22 days
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Just adding this on, but this isn't an attempt on my part or an encouragement to harass these people, though I'm sure everyone reading this already knows that. Just a means of letting others know who's behind at least some of the harassment lately.
Alright, well, here comes the call-out post that I promised anon. Have fun with it, I guess. It's about to get long, folks. A group of @tsuki-no-ura followers, who's been obviously vague posting about me for months at this point, specifically targeting every topic I discuss on my blog by making counterarguments to it on their blog, even though I never directed any of my analysis posts or anything else at them, nor has anything I've ever written been in direct response to anything they've written, is certainly behind at least some of the harassment. And other than the times I've tried having conversations with tsuki in the past, when I used to follow them, and wanted to discuss their posts with them, which almost always went ignored, I haven't at all addressed them or made reference to them, either implied or specifically, in any of my analysis posts. I only made reference to them a few weeks back when I found out that they'd essentially said my defense of Levi's violence was tantamount to Nazism, which I wasn't going to let stand. That's the only time I've ever directly referenced them. And yet, every time I make an analysis post, a counterargument to it magically appears on their blog the same day or a few days later, something that was brought to my attention by a mutual of mine. I had no idea until a couple weeks ago that this was happening, because I stopped following them more than a year ago, and only just recently blocked them. But they're obviously stalking me. And, inevitably, every time they do this, a slew of anon hate messages get sent, both to me and various other blogs that I follow, or that follow me. This isn't a coincidence:
@clearavenuelover, @66honeybadgers, and I'm sure various other of their groupies, are the ones almost assuredly largely behind the anonymous attacks on Levi blogs over the last, several months. They start out with their passive-aggressive bullshit, and eventually, of course, it turns to outright hostility, because that's just who these people are. @clearavenuelover purposefully tagged me in one of tsuki's posts, and so obviously they're aware of their followers harassing other Levi fan blogs. This is the link to the post they tagged me and other Levi fan blogs in: https://www.tumblr.com/tsuki-no-ura/739123803956854784/okay-so-here-i-come-with-my-discourse-causing
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And yet more evidence that these people all congregate in the same circles and circle-jerk each other over how they think they're "winning" some non-existent contest against me and other Levi fan blogs.
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And look who liked this answer as soon as it was put up:
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And here @66honeybadgers is again, name-dropping tsuki-no-ura while they continue to harass me:
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And this is clearly the same douche-bag that asked me a few weeks back if I considered myself a "Levi expert", and has now, over the last two days, continued to harass me for daring to express my opinion about Levi on my own blog, dropping the "friendly" act and showing their outright hostility:
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This is clear harassment from a very specific corner of the fandom, mainly, surprise, surprise, eruri shippers, or even just Erwin stans who want to make everything about him, and get angry at anyone who dares to express any different view from the ones they hold, to the point of actively seeking out and stalking our blogs, hate reading our posts, going into our inboxs and sending us anonymous hate messages, trying to cram their opinions down our throats and then getting upset when we don't listen or accept their views. And then they want to go around acting like they're all the victims. What a joke these people are. Anyway, I just thought I should make this post so that actual Levi fan blogs can know to avoid and block these assholes. I can't say if they're behind ALL of the harassment, but they're certainly behind some of it, and it's good to expose them because they're cowards, and once they've been exposed, they won't have the fucking balls to continue.
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