#HOW AM I SHADOWBANNED WHAT DID I EVEN DO??

[pink-anonymous-person]

well this fucking sucks

[weareuniqueandimportant]

YOU SHOULD JUST COMMIT SSSSCIDE... YOU'RE WORTHLESS... YOU VIEW US THIS WAY YOU'RE AN ABUSER A KILLER A MURDERER... TRULY... YOU WOULDN'T EVEN LISTEN TO US YOUR HANDS THEY'RE ON OUR THROAT... YOU'RE WORTHLESS AS RESULT... GO AHEAD... YOUR VALUE IS COMPLETE 0...

THIS POST IS ABOUT LESBIAN FOOD... NOTHING MATURE ABOUT THAT... I LOVE EATING SSSSIDE... THAT IS A TYPE OF FISH WE WOMAN TEND TO EAT TOGETHER... WHY DO THIS TO US 😢...

DAMN... I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS COMPLETELY SHADOWBANNED POST WAS CHECKED BY THE SITE... THAT'S CRAZY... WHO EVEN FOUND THIS...? OH WHATEVER... HA.

[rinja-espurr]

oh my god today is sunday i can FINALLY unlock the. able sisters shop

[misswynters]

Winter’s Embrace — Chapter One

Cregan Stark x targaryen fem!reader

[synopsis: You arrive at winterfell, you feel unwelcomed and like an outsider. You weren’t used to not customs of the north.

[a/n: i know, it’s always a targaryen princess switch it up! (pls this is my first time ever writing) and there’s barely any cregan x readers.

[word count: 2.5k?

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

next chapter |

Winterfell loomed on the horizon, its grey stone walls blending seamlessly with the winter landscape. As your carriage approached the gates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold but from the uncertainty of what awaited you within those ancient walls. The North was a world away from the warm sands and fiery skies of King's Landing, where you had spent most of your life. Here, you were not just a stranger but a princess—a dragon in a land of wolves.

The carriage came to a halt, and you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. The door opened, and a gust of icy wind greeted you. Wrapping your cloak tightly around your shoulders, you stepped out into the courtyard, your breath visible in the frigid air. The guards watched you with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, their eyes lingering a bit too long.

Cregan Stark, who’s the Warden of the North, stood at the entrance to the Great Hall, his imposing figure framed by the heavy wooden doors. He was a tall man with dark hair and piercing grey eyes that seemed to see straight through you. As you approached, he stepped forward, his expression one of polite interest.

“Princess,” he greeted you, his voice deep and resonant. “Welcome to Winterfell.”

"Thank you, Lord Stark" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I greatly appreciate your hospitality."

He nodded, his gaze not wavering. "I hope you find Winterfell to your liking, though I fear it may not be as comfortable as the South."

You forced a smile. "I am sure it will be an adjustment, but nevertheless i will get used to it"

The Great Hall was bustling with activity as servants hurried about, preparing for the evening meal. The warmth of the fire was a welcome contrast to the cold outside, but it did little to dispel the feeling of being an outsider. You could feel the weight of their gazes, the whispered conversations that fell silent as you passed.

Cregan led you to your chambers, a modest but well-appointed room with a large bed and a roaring fire. "If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask," he said, his tone formal.

"Thank you, My lord," you replied, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

He hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but then he simply nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

The days that followed were a blur of introductions and attempts to settle into a routine. The people of Winterfell were polite but distant, their mistrust evident in their eyes. You tried to make yourself useful, helping where you could, but it seemed that no matter what you did, you were always viewed as an dragon in a wolves den.

Cregan was kind but distant, his duties keeping him busy. He checked in on you regularly, making sure you were comfortable, but there was an unspoken tension between you. You sensed that he believed you were ill-suited for the harsh realities of the North, a delicate flower from the South who would wilt in the cold.

One evening, as you sat by the fire in your chambers, lost in thought, there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” you called, expecting one of the servants.

To your surprise, it was Cregan. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. "I hope I am not disturbing you," he said.

"Not at all," you replied, gesturing for him to sit. "Please, join me."

He took a seat opposite you, the firelight casting shadows on his chiseled features. "I wanted to see how you are adjusting," he said. "I know this must be difficult for you.

You sighed, staring into the flames. "It is. But I am trying to accustomed to the way everything is done here."

He nodded, his gaze intense. "You are stronger than you appear, Princess. I see that."

You looked at him, surprised by his words. "Thank you, Lord Stark. That means a lot."

For a moment, there was a silence between you, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Then, Cregan spoke again, his voice softer. "I understand that you are a dragon dreamer."

Your heart skipped a beat. It was not something you spoke of often, the gift—or curse—that you carried. "Yes," you admitted. "I have dreams of dragons and the future."

He leaned forward, his eyes searching yours. "Do you trust your dreams?"

You hesitated, then nodded. "I do. They have never led me astray."

Cregan seemed to consider this, then leaned back in his chair. "Perhaps, in time, you will find your place here. The North is a harsh land, but it can also be a place of great beauty and strength."

You smiled, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I hope so, Lord Stark. I truly do."

As the days passed, you began to find small ways to integrate yourself into the life of Winterfell. You helped in the kitchens, learning the recipes and customs of the North. You spent time with the children, telling them stories of dragons and far-off lands. Slowly, the walls began to come down, and you felt a sense of belonging start to take root.

Cregan was a constant presence, his support and encouragement a source of strength. He seemed to understand the struggle you faced, the weight of expectations and the challenge of finding your place in a world that was not your own. There were moments when you caught glimpses of the man beneath the lord—the kindness in his eyes, the warmth of his smile.

One day, as you were walking through the courtyard, a group of women approached you. Their leader, an older woman with a stern expression, looked you up and down. "Princess," she said, her tone respectful but cold. "We have heard much about you."

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety in your stomach. "I hope it has been good."

The woman shrugged. "Some good, some not. But actions speak louder than words. We will see what kind of woman you truly are."

You smiled, determined to prove yourself. "I hope I can earn your respect."

Cregan watched from a distance, his heart swelling with pride as he saw you stand your ground. He knew the road ahead would not be easy, but he had no doubt that you were strong enough to walk it.

One night, as the storm raged outside, you found yourself unable to sleep. The dreams had been coming more frequently, visions of dragons and fire, of a future shrouded in darkness. You threw on a cloak and made your way to the Great Hall, seeking solace in the warmth of the fire.

To your surprise, Cregan was there, staring into the flames. He looked up as you entered, his expression softening. "Couldn't sleep?" he asked.

You shook your head, joining him by the hearth. "No. The dreams..."

He nodded, understanding. "Tell me about them."

You hesitated, then began to speak, the words flowing out of you like a river. You told him of the dragons, of the visions of a future both beautiful and terrifying. He listened intently, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Those are just visions, what matters is how you act upon them and not let them get to your head” he said in a soft tone.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Cregan."

He smiled, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "You are stronger than you know, Princess. And I am proud to stand by your side."

The days turned into weeks, and the snow outside showed no signs of abating. Within Winterfell, you began to find your place. You helped in the kitchens, worked alongside the maids, and even joined the training sessions in the yard. Slowly, the people began to see you not as an outsider, but as someone willing to share their burdens.

Cregan watched with growing admiration. One evening, as you sat by the hearth, he joined you, his presence a comfort in the cold.

"You've done well," he said, his voice warm.

You looked up at him, a smile playing on your lips. "Thank you. It hasn't been easy."

He reached out, his hand gently brushing against yours. "Nothing worth having ever is."

The thaw began slowly, both outside and within the hearts of Winterfell's people. The Northmen, once so wary, started to see you in a different light. Your actions, your kindness, and your determination had begun to win them over.

One day, as you helped prepare for a feast, one of the older women approached you. "You've done well, lass," she said, her voice gruff but not unkind. "You've proven yourself."

You smiled, feeling a weight lift from your shoulders. "I’m glad i was able to prove myself." Cregan, watching from across the room, felt a surge of pride.

[equalseleventhirds]

"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—

"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."

Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."

(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)

"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."

Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.

Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"

"Hey—!"

Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."

Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"

"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."

"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?

"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."

"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"

-- -- -- -- --

Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.

But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.

And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.

A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.

Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!

So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.

[sundrop-writes]

Black Suit

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader

Summary:

After a particularly hard case, Emily takes you home and helps you unwind by showing you exactly where you belong.

Dom!Emily Prentiss x Sub!Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 2,900

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader is part of the BAU; very minimal mentions of typical CM themes (murder/crime scenes/etc.) - the primary focus of this fic is smut; the reader character has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns;the reader and Emily are in an ongoing dom/sub relationship - this includes the background element of safewords (that are not used) and pre-discussed kink negotiation that doesn’t happen during this fic; Emily is dominant and the reader is submissive; the reader kneels for Emily; mentions of subspace (but it’s not directly called that in the fic); the reader wears a collar (no petplay, just as a symbol of her submission to Emily); Emily’s strap-on is referred to as ‘her cock’ or 'her dick’; a very light hit to the face that could barely be considered a slap (not in the name of pain kink, in the name of dominance); hair pulling (reader receiving); strap-on blowjob (the reader sucks it); Emily is fully clothed and the reader is naked; slight cockwarming; strap-on sex - the reader rides Emily’s strap; Emily calls the reader 'babydoll’, 'doll’, 'greedy slut’, 'good girl’, 'pathetic slut’, 'stupid slut’; Mommy kink - Emily refers to herself as Mommy and the reader calls her that; finger sucking (the reader sucks on Emily’s fingers); Emily is generally condescending toward the reader in this, maybe it strays into degradation kink or humiliation kink; verbal degradation; mentions of pulling on the collar - but not quite choking? and I believe that is it.

A/N: This cover is not my favourite - I love the pictures of Emily but I’m not a fan of how dark the background is on the right. This whole fic was inspired by the picture on the left - her sitting in the most beautifully gay way, so I absolutely had to include it in the fic cover. In general, I also just go nuts whenever she wears a pantsuit on screen. It makes me feral. So this was partially inspired by that.

...

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

Emily had a unique talent for knowing exactly what you needed at any given time. Whether it was a cup of coffee perfectly timed with your three am yawn on an all-nighter case, or her packing a throw-blanket in her go-bag so that you could have a nap on the jet - she was so in tuned with you that she seemed to know exactly what you needed, even before you did. 

Today - after a particularly hard, long haul case - what you needed was to be mindless. The stress of the victims, the haunting glow of their eyes in the crime scene photos, it was weighing on you. You needed to be her perfect, sweet toy. And she knew that the minute that the two of you got in the door. 

She had mumbled in your ear, telling you to strip as she carried both of your bags toward the bedroom. It was a quiet, but firm order that had you shivering with anticipation seconds. Already, you felt your mind melting out of your ears as you watched the wave of her black hair disappear down the hallway. 

Feeling calmed by the acts, you did as you were told. 

You stripped completely naked, and then you knelt down on the corner of the living room rug, your hands lightly placed on your thighs, your eyes completely on the floor with your head slightly bowed. It was a submissive position that Emily loved to see you in, patiently waiting like an obedient pet for her. 

Just the thought that doing this would please her already had you melting into that soft, comfortable headspace. 

It was a simple routine that already had your stressed insides melting into calmness as you did nothing but sit there holding the position, waiting for her. You listened to the sound of her heeled shoes quietly clacking across the floor, and took great interest in the fact that she hadn’t yet taken them off. 

While you held the position, not looking up, you listened carefully as she came into the room. Then, quite expectedly, she reached down and wrapped the cool leather of your collar around your neck. Being as obedient as possible, you stayed entirely still while she did it, feeling tingles of satisfaction flow through you as the collar settled onto your neck. 

This simple act finished the process of melting your brain completely, and now, you could think of nothing but Emily - nothing but Mommy, how badly you needed her. You couldn’t even bring yourself to feel shameful at the fact that there was a sticky wetness between your legs and she hadn’t even touched you yet. She had trained you well enough that just these simple acts, just the feeling of your collar around your neck made you so desperate for her touch. 

Emily then walked over to the large armchair that she had in the corner of the room. It was something she had there for reading books or enjoying TV (during the little time off between cases that the two of you had). 

Mostly, she had the elegant leather chair for moments like this. 

“Come on. Come to Mommy.” 

It was only when she spoke the words that you had your implicit permission to finally look up at her. 

She sat in the chair with her legs spread, a mighty presence in the room with her suit still on. The only difference you noticed from how she had looked for most of the day was a distinct bulge around the zipper of her pants. The idea that perhaps she had taken off her pants, put on her cock, and redressed just to appear this put together for you… it was thrilling. 

She had been paying attention when you said you liked the way she looked in the suit. It was meant to be a perfectly innocent comment when you saw the way she was dressed for the day. A simple ‘you look nice today, Em’. But she saw right through you - the lustful spark in your eye, the way you bit your lip. She knew all of your tells too well, and she knew exactly what to do with the information. Something she had been saving until now. 

You couldn’t help but to savor the pure air of dominance coming off her with the black blazer and black dress pants draped over her, her black heeled boots still on. Her black button up blouse was still on, but she had a few more of the buttons undone than before. 

This showcased the golden key necklace that sat between her breasts. It was something that you had a matching lock necklace of, but you had taken it off and tucked it away with your clothing knowing that it was going to be exchanged for your collar because you were now in the privacy of your home. 

The necklace was something you had lovingly gifted her, showing that you truly belonged to her in every way and absolutely loved it. 

“Fucking. Crawl.” 

Emily ground out the words harshly when you didn’t move fast enough for her liking. 

You had become so distracted by her gorgeous appearance, but you rushed to meet the demand when her words hit your ears. 

The sound of her voice caused goosebumps all over your skin as you were distinctly reminded of who was in charge. Reminded of why you needed her - because you went so braindead when you became lustful. You needed her to guide you in order to get what you truly wanted. 

You crawled to her, making your way to her on your hands and knees. In a very rehearsed part of the ritual, you placed your head on her thigh, looking up the length of her torso at her. You heavily enjoyed how much she towered over you while you knelt at her feet. She gently combed her fingers through your hair while she admired how sweet and submissive you looked. 

“What do you need, babydoll?” Emily asked, continuing with that firm but quiet tone that you loved so much. Something that showed her power with an epic subtlety. 

You eased your head forward until you were nuzzling at the bulge that was threatening to burst her zipper. You felt nothing but firm silicone under your nose, which caused excitement to pulse through you. 

“You.” You told her, your voice slightly breathless already. “Just need you, Mommy.” 

You looked up at her with your best pleading doe eyes, knowing that she would give you exactly what you needed without you even having to voice it. She knew you too well. And she always knew what you needed before you even did. 

Emily skimmed her knuckles along your cheek, gently prodding her thumb between your lips. In the most natural fashion, you began sucking on the digit, enjoying the feeling as she forcefully pressed it onto your tongue. 

Once again, she easily knew what you needed. 

“Such a pretty doll for me.” She hummed, clearly enjoying the sight of you on your knees for her. 

You hummed happily around her finger at the comment, and she smirked. 

“Get my cock out for me, doll.” She ordered, her beautifully calm voice making the words sound like a song. 

She gently pulled back her thumb, causing a wet smack as it suctioned from your lips and she ran the tip of it along your bottom lip. Knowing that you were likely foggy, already mushy between the ears, she gave you a light tap on the cheek with her open palm to prompt you into following her instructions. 

You grinned at this, letting out a moan as a pleasant warmth spread through you. 

You loved it when she took control over you. 

You reached up and popped the button on her pants, and the zipper practically burst open with the force of her stiff silicone cock behind it. You helped get it out nicely, almost drooling at the sight before you - her black pants stretched over her thighs where they were spread wide to accommodate you, her bright red, veined strap-on sticked out from the fly of those pants with just a bit of her dark pubic hair visible above the strap’s harness. It was so fucking beautiful that you could have cried. 

In fact, you felt tears pricking the corners of your eyes as Emily reached down and forcefully grabbed the back of your hair, guiding your head toward her dick. 

You hadn’t even realized that your mouth was open wide with your tongue lulled out, needy and panting like a dog - not until she slid her cock so perfectly into the opening. She easily stuffed one of your needy holes and made the other throb almost painfully, making you wish there were two of her so that you could be filled from both ends at the same time. 

“Such a greedy slut.” Emily chuckled. “There ya go, suck Mommy’s cock.” 

You moaned gratefully around her cock as the thickness of it stretched your jaw open and forced your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth. Your hands naturally fell to sit on her thighs, a lovely heat on her flesh through the material of her suit. She couldn’t help but to sit back and admire you, effortlessly guiding your head up and down on her dick. You were so pliant at this point, almost ragdoll-like, your muscles like clay that needed to be shaped by her touch. 

“You gonna warm up Mommy’s cock?” Emily posed, her sweet, soothing voice causing your cunt to clench around nothing. You felt wetness smearing against your inner thighs and you definitely weren’t surprised. 

You moaned in affirmation of this, loving the feeling of your lips becoming slightly swollen and sore as she fucked your face on her dick. 

“There ya go. Good girl.” She cooed. “Need it nice and wet so you can sit on it, babydoll.” 

You moaned even louder at this, and Emily couldn’t resist any longer. 

She pulled you up, loving the way your mouth hung slack, showing the messy trail of spit from your lips to where it glistened all over her cock. 

She didn’t waste any time then. 

She quickly got you up into her lap, having you straddle her with your knees over her thighs. 

You were impressed by the fact that her suit was somehow almost perfectly pristine - her pants were barely wrinkled and her upper half didn’t look touched at all. It was something that turned you on to no end, the visual of her in that powerful suit jacket as you sat astride her. 

(This would definitely be something you thought about every single time you saw her in a suit on the job from now on.) 

She began teasing the stiff cockhead along your dripping folds - apparently all it took was a few moments of her teasing, having your mouth filled and the switch of her dominant persona electrifying the air to flood your pussy. She then used a bruising grip on your hips to pull you down onto the hard length of her cock, perfectly impaling you with it. 

You let out a harsh whimper at the feeling of being filled up by her, and Emily smirked at you in a perfectly devilish way. She felt so whole, having you as a perfect naked prize in her lap. She didn’t know how anyone else in the world could be satisfied if they couldn’t have you. (But she also knew that if anyone else tried to touch you, she would have to break their fingers at the very least.) 

You sat there for a moment, waiting for her to fuck her hips up into you - waiting for her to fuck you senseless in that perfect way that she always did. After sitting there for a moment and simply having that hardness filling you up, your pussy leaking freely around the girth of her cock (surely smearing your wetness all over the seam of her pants where her cock was poking out through) - you pouted loudly and gently bucked into her. 

Emily’s smirk only widened, and she looked ever more like the Cheshire cat. Greedy and satisfied as she leaned back in her chair, relaxing into a comfortable stance with her elbows casually resting on the large arms of the chair. She poised the nail of her first finger up to her lips, holding it tentatively between her teeth as she continued to look at you expectantly. 

“Oh, did you want my help?” She asked, pretending to be completely oblivious of your needs. 

“Yes.” You moaned out. 

Your whole body unconsciously flinched toward her, causing you to move only slightly on her cock, a deeply unfulfilling feeling. It was a harshly nagging fullness with no pay off that begged for more. 

“Yes, please, Mommy!” You added on desperately, tears clutching at the corners of your eyes. 

“Do it yourself.” She told you, her tone entirely domineering but not lifting a single decibel higher than it had to. 

She commanded the attention of your entire body and soul with such simple movements, such a calm voice. It was something that had you clenching around her fake cock and moaning deep inside your chest. 

Emily grinned at you and continued on. 

“Come on, babydoll.” She told you sweetly. “If you need it so badly, you’ll fuck yourself on my cock like a good girl.” 

Of course, you couldn’t resist such gentle dominance. You couldn’t go against her orders. 

You reached your hands out and with a subtle nod from her, you knew it was okay to grip onto the lapels of her suit jacket for support. Then, with your knees planted on either side of her thighs in the chair, you began to fuck yourself on her cock. 

After the exhaustion of the day, your body wasn’t prepared for the effort. Your hips soon started shaking and Emily watched in utter amusement as you started whining bitterly after only fucking yourself on her cock half a dozen times. She held back a delighted giggle, not wanting to mock you quite yet. She wanted to see how far you could get. 

You couldn’t keep the pace - if you were honest with yourself, you had barely even started to reach your desired pace from a lazy crawl. The more you felt jolts of pain shooting through your muscles, pure burning tiredness, the more your sounds turned into petulant whines and the tighter you gripped onto Emily’s suit jacket (wrinkling it quite a bit now). 

When you were finally reduced down to mildly humping yourself against her, grinding your hips against hers in slow, lazy strokes, Emily let out a quiet chuckle - a mocking sound that cut right through you (causing your gut to twist with pleasure). 

“You having some trouble there, doll?” Emily asked, once again putting on a tone that was playfully ignorant toward your obvious problems. 

“I - I can’t do it.” You whined out, feeling tears of frustration bubbling up in your throat. “Mommy, help me.” 

“Oh, you can’t do it?” She cooed, clearly teasing you now. “You need Mommy’s help?” 

You nodded furiously at this. 

She leaned forward and hooked a finger into your collar, yanking on it suddenly in a way that made you moan as your torso was forced to collide with hers and the thickness of her cock jostled inside of you. 

“Mommy-!” You gasped, panting against her chin now as she held you there, trapped you in tight proximity to her. 

She didn’t let you get any more words out. 

“You’re such a pathetic slut.” She scolded you harshly. 

You moaned out loudly as she held you close, keeping that one hand with a finger tucked into your collar, holding you tight to her in a way that caused an even, grounding pressure across your neck. She used the other to dig her nails into the meat of your hip, partially fucking you up and down on her cock as she words her hips into you from below. 

With her feet planted firmly on the ground, she had the perfect angle to fuck your needy pussy. 

In a moment, she had built up a harsh, but slow pace that had you aching and moaning for more. She forced you to stare her in the eyes the whole time, keeping her burning charcoal gaze on yours as she held you there, the tightness of the leather around your neck and the stiffness of her length pushing up inside of you reminding you exactly where you belonged. 

“You can’t even fuck yourself on Mommy’s cock, huh?” 

She teased, her voice becomingly slightly breathless from her efforts. It was just another thing that made you wetter - hearing her sex-worn voice, still somehow composed. 

“You need me to do everything for you, don’t you, babydoll? Need me to make all your decisions for you. Need me to do all the thinking so that your dumb little brain doesn’t even have to try.” 

Her words had your pussy fluttering around her cock, trying to milk an orgasm out of the plastic because your body needed her so badly. But that was one of the best parts - because she couldn’t feel her cock, she could fuck you for hours without the curse of overstimulation that you felt. Just another reason that she could be so composed while you fell apart. 

“Yes!” You moaned out. “Yes, Mommy!” 

“Stupid slut.” She spat the words against your lips, causing you to moan out in an utterly whorish way as she fucked into you harder. “But you love it, don’t you? You love being Mommy’s dumb slut. You love Mommy filling up your needy holes, don’t you?” 

Truthfully, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

...

A/N: This is a oneshot, so there will not be a sequel or a continuation of it. If you enjoy it, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you want to see more things that I have written about Emily, or if you enjoy my style of writing in general, definitely check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or my other Masterlists.

[gold-rhine]

sub!Diluc x Dom! gn! reader

Warnings: very much not safe for w, edging, overstimulation, praise kink, minors get out of here. But also, some unabashed fluff. Yes, it contains multitudes.

words: 3,2k.

A\n: repost since my previous blog got shadowbanned

Listen, i know everyone hcs Diluc as a dom. And he can be a very nice service dom, but I’m here to convince you that sub!Diluc is actually not OOC.

First of all, he’s more repressed than a catholic nun. Diluc is like on six levels of dissociation at any given moment. He sees his body as a flesh suit he’s piloting that requires an inconvenient maintenance like sleep, food and occasional sexual release. He’ll jerk off by himself like it’s a chore.

Diluc is so touch starved it’s ridiculous, and *he doesn’t even know it*, that’s how much he’s disconnected from his needs.

And like. Helping ppl like that discover what they actually want and watching them come undone in pleasure they didn’t know they desired is so delicious. If you know, you know, there’s nothing quite like it.

But you have to go slow with him

I mean first of all, you shouldn’t mess with Diluc at all if you’re not in for a long haul, this man doesn’t do casual.

Oh, he’ll agree to try if he’s already into you, he’s incredibly indulging to the people he values. But also because at first he’ll be incredibly defensive.

Not because he’s not into it. Just as a defense mechanism, as he thinks he’ll disappoint you and he’s preparing for a failure from the start.

Diluc can see any activity with his important people as a trial where his performance will be evaluated. He is one of these “I need to get a good grade in X which is both normal to want and possible to achieve” people.

Remember the coffeeshop event where he was like “When I was a small child, my father told me to mix my first drink using all of the ingredients in the tavern. In hindsight, it was probably to see how creative I am and I must’ve failed because I just made a fruit punch and my father didn’t say if I did well”?

Like, Diluc. Baby. Honey. Sweetie. Your dad probably just wanted you to have fun in an improvised “take your kid to work” event. He didn’t judge your punch because it was about spending quality time together and letting you play with colorful syrups. Who the fuck would evaluate a small child’s creativity on the first time they mix drinks. You think he expected you to invent Pina Colada?

So yeah, he will see even getting edged as a thing he’s not proficient in, so he’s most likely to fail and disappoint you. And that’s one of the worst things he can imagine.

Because being useful is Diluc’s love language. If you read his voicelines or talk to him in teapot, you can notice how he’s very focused on doing things for you, like he’ll invent a drink specifically for you and keeps repeating that you should tell him if you need anything, but at the same time, he “doesn’t do chit chat” and wants to leave if there’s nothing for him to do.

Because Diluc knows he’s not easygoing or fun to be around. He has his charming brother who makes it seem effortless to compare himself with. He knows he’s kind of awkward, intense, brooding and direct to the point of coming off as rude. So he needs to feel like he’s doing something useful for you to justify spending time with you.

So for his first time, don’t tease him verbally. He’s incredibly teasable, I know. But he’s already very anxious about disappointing you even if he tries to hide it and he was conditioned to clamp up at the first sign of perceived mockery by his troll brother. Show him first how good it can feel before you start playing with him.

also, he obviously has a praise kink that he’s not even aware of. like, it’s not even up for discussion, praise from other people and approval from his dad are literally described as his main motivations

“The praise he received from his comrades and citizens spurred him on. But the words of praise he valued most of all were: "Good job. Now, that's my son." His father's words fueled the fire inside his heart and served as his greatest motivation.“ and sure, after he lost his dad and emotionally closed off, he doesn’t allow himself to rely on approval of others. But it doesn’t mean he doesn’t want it.

You can tie his hands, but honestly I think it’s much more fun to just order him to keep his hands up. He’s so stubborn, it’ll be a matter of pride for him to keep his composure. And it will also make it that much more delicious to see it finally break.

When you tell him that he must ask for permission to finish, he just scoffs. He’s so sure he wouldn’t be reduced to that.

Don’t expect him to dissolve into stereotypical meowling and begging when you first start touching him. Again, he’s much too stubborn. He’s coming into this defensive and he wants to be in control of himself.

But hear me out - it actually makes it more fun to tease him. Diluc tries to keep himself still, but no amount of willpower will make him less sensitive and, again, touch starved to hell and back.

So at first, it’s the little things that betray him. How when you kiss his neck, his throat moves under your lips in a shaky intake of a breath, How the taut muscles of his scarred arms flex when you run your hands over his chest. How he draws in his stomach when you slide your fingers down it, slow, tantalizingly slow, making light patterns with just your fingertips. How he avoids your eyes because you haven’t even touched his cock yet and he’s already so obviously, painfully hard.

He has a beautiful cock, big and with a nice curve, and as for all pale redheads, it becomes brilliantly red when aroused. When you finally touch him, slowly stroking it up from the base to the tip, he draws in a breath through the clenched teeth and squeezes his eyes shut. You watch him struggle as you start pumping his dick faster and faster, his jaw clenching, his breath and heartbeat quickening, sweat beads forming on his forehead, his shoulders and hips flinching as he tries to keep himself from arching up and thrusting into your hand.

He’s fighting a losing battle and both of you know it by now. You could break him right here if you wanted. You squeeze and rub the sensitive tip of his cock, and see him open his mouth in a silent, chocked gasp for air. He manages to keep himself from clenching his fists, but his knuckles whiten when he desperately scraps his fingertips against the bedsheets.

But you don’t want him to feel like he lost a fight, it’s not about that, it was never about that. Even shame should feel good. You caress his high, sculpted cheekbones with your thumb, your other hand still on his cock. “‘Luc, look at me.”

He can’t disobey you, but he has to take a deep breath before he can open his eyes. He meets your gaze, anxious. What’s he going to see, mockery over how pathetically quick he’s breaking down? Disappointment for how bad and inexperienced he is at this? Just a cold, severe rejection?

“You look so beautiful, baby,” you tell him quietly and breath catches in his throat, his pupils widening, his cock twitching in your hand. You kiss the trail from his sharp jawline up to his ear, allowing him to turn away. “Do you enjoy this? Do you want me to keep going?" you smile warmly when he whips his head back to look at you and meet his dazed crimson eyes. “I just want you to feel good.”

This reframes the entire scene for him in a one fell swoop, turning it upside down, leaving him disoriented. It wasn’t a challenge that he was losing, or a trial that he was failing, him giving in to his desires was what you wanted all along? You enjoy seeing his pleasure, even if he’s not being useful to you in return? It seems impossible to him, yet when you look at him like this, when you touch him like this, like he’s precious and wanted, when he knows he’s broken and undeserving… it feels intoxicating and liberating at once, in a way he couldn’t imagine before. He realizes at this moment how badly he wants this, even if he still doesn’t understand how far he’s willing to go for it.

“I… ugh, I… like it,” Diluc swallows harshly, his mouth suddenly dry, and if you thought he was blushing before, now the pink dust on his cheeks turns into a brilliant scarlet glow, covering his face, neck and even top of his shoulders. He clearly wants to look away in embarrassment, but makes himself hold your gaze. “If you… enjoy this too and… want to go on…”

You rake your eyes over him, sprawled in front of you, and smile, meeting his gaze again. “Of course I enjoy it. You look so fucking hot like this.” his eyes widen and his lips part, you can feel his tip leaking in your hand, his entire body strung up like a bowstring. He doesn’t know what to answer and he couldn’t talk even if he did, so when you lower your head down to kiss him he answers eagerly, with passion and gratitude he can’t express in words. You start pumping his cock again, now faster and with a firmer grip, and drink in his abrupt gasp against your mouth, as he freezes for a second and then returns the kiss with twice the abandon. This time he doesn’t try to fight it, his body trembling under you, his hips bucking up to meet your hand, his hands closing into fists, toes curling.

He breaks the kiss when you twist your palm against his pulsing tip, and he cries out, low and strangled, his entire body arching up, but his unfocused eyes find yours immediately, his gaze frantic, almost feverish. He’s going far outside his comfort zone, he’s relinquishing control and he’s so unused to this, he trained himself for years to do the opposite of this, to see it as a failure, so he needs your repeated reassurance to soothe his anxiety, to prove he didn’t imagine your desire few moments ago.

You lean down to him without breaking eye contact. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re being so good for me.”

It shoots through him, bypassing the brain entirely, through the entire nerve system and right down to the cock, like only discovering a kink you were entirely oblivious to before can. His body goes rigid and he comes, with a choked, shuddering groan.

You stroke him through it, until he limply falls back on the bed, spent and panting. He reaches for you and you let him pull you in, hold him while he’s coming back to his senses, run fingers through his soft hair. When he opens his eyes, he looks at you with a small, almost sheepish smile, and it’s impossible to resist kissing him.

“Are you okay?” you ask, stroking his cheek and he leans into your palm.

“Yes, I’m fine,” he answers immediately, then realizes how it sounds and tries to correct. “I mean, I’m better than fine. I’m... I feel good.”

You chuckle and his eyes flicker to watch your mouth, then throw you a glance from under half-lowered lids. It’s enjoyable seeing him open like this, but what you really want is seeing him come undone. He doesn’t look tired and you know he can go on for much longer, but today it’s more a question of mental state than stamina.

“You want to go for another round?” you ask softly him and he blushes lightly.

“Well, I did technically… um, break a promise to ask for permission in the end,” he says with the same small smile that grows even more sheepish as he tries to avoid admitting he desperately wants more. “So it’s only fair if I remedy that.”

“Oh, of course. Honorable as always. So noble of you, Master Diluc,” you run your fingers over his abs, spreading cum all over them, and his brilliant blush returns in full force. But he doesn’t stop smiling, trusting your good intentions, that you’re mocking the hierarchy of ranks and not him personally. You kiss the corner of his mouth to reassure him, and his smile grows wider.

“Well, you can’t be successful in the commercial trade if you’re not answering for your obligations,” he says, trying and failing to keep a straight face. He really does recover very quickly, you think, if he can already banter. “The Wine Guild would kick me out if they learned I’d backed down on a deal.”

“Well, at least I know I can complain to the Wine Guild if you misbehave then,” your voice is still light, but you catch his chin and lift it up firmly, and he tenses up immediately.

He looks up at you, eyes intense as always, but now glittering in anticipation and tracking your every move, bangs tousled and lips parted for you to claim. You kiss him, messily, greedily, slide your fingers to the back of his head and pull on his hair, forcing him to expose his throat for you. You leave the trail of sloppy kisses and scraped teeth down from his jaw to the collarbones before you let go of his hair and allow him to collapse.

When your hand finds his cock, it’s already half-hard, throbbing. red. This time, you don’t go slowly, you grab it and start pumping it fast. He shudders, still so sensitive after a recent orgasm, and instinctively tries to close his legs.

You don’t force them open, instead, you catch his chin and meet his eyes again. “No,” you say slowly. “Open up for me.”

The thing about Diluc is that he doesn’t do anything by halves if he sets his mind to it. Once he opens up, he burns for you with the same single-minded dedication as he does fighting enemies in the night. He might not know how to ask for help, pleasure or affection, but he sure knows how to give and to give everything he’s got. Do not ask to have him if you want anything less than the whole.

He grits his teeth, his eyes smoldering crimson, and forces himself to spread his legs again, against his basic reflexes. The touch to his overstimulated dick is painful and igniting at the same time, it feels equal parts wrecking and delightful.

You smile and praise him and pump him even harder and faster than before, and he trashes in front of you, muttering a litany of half-choked curses, throwing his head from side to side, hands clawing at the sheets, thighs shaking, but staying open.

You asked for him and you shall have him, no matter what.

It’s still not enough for you, though.

You sprawl on your side against him, circling one arm around his shoulders, still stroking him with the other. The fight goes out of him. He blindly leans into you, trembling, a small whine caught in his throat. When you kiss him, his mouth is soft and pliant, but his hands clutch at you desperately, like a drowning man trying to hold on to the solid ground.

It drives you crazy to watch him writhe under you, completely unravelled, glowing brightly from feverish desire, scarlet silk of his tangled hair sprawled on the sheets, his hips bucking frantically into your hand.

You whisper sweet, tender praises to him, caress his face, neck and shoulders like he’s the most precious and fragile thing in the world, at the same time as your other hand relentlessly winds him up, squeezes his overstimulated, pulsing cock harshly, twists the leaking tip. The pain punctuates desire, a delirious contrast of torturously sweet and deliciously cruel.

His fingers dig into you, holding you close. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, clings to you, seeking comfort and shelter from the same sweet, unbearable torture that is also inflicted by you. The pleasure melts him, but the pain splits him open, wrecks him to the core, he wants this to end, and he wants this to never stop. More than anything, he wants to be yours.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re perfect,” you tell him and you mean it.

He breathes in through his mouth, drawing in your scent. “Please,” he gasps so quietly, you could’ve missed it if not for his lips moving against your neck. “Please, let me…please…”

Next time, you might demand more. Next time, you might make him spell it out completely, what exactly he begs you for. But this is his first time and he was already so brave for you.

“Yes, baby. You’ve been so fucking good. Come for me.”

He comes immediately and so hard, his entire body is shaking, the strangled scream caught in his throat. You keep stroking him, letting him ride it out through increasingly frantic and desperate thrusts, squeeze every last drop out of him until he collapses, limp and shivering, but still clinging to you.

You hold him, stroke his hair and kiss his forehead, whisper to him softly until he stops trembling and his breath evens out. You realize that he’s too weak now to get to the bath, so you stand up to get something to help, but he reaches out, catches your wrist immediately.

“It’s okay, I’ll be back in a second,” you promise. After you clean him up with a wet cloth, he pulls you in and curls around you so possessively and needy, you can’t help but smile. He’s fighting a losing battle to stay awake, the endless sleepless nights finally catching up with him, now that he lowered his guard for a moment and let his body feel alive. But there’s one thing he needs to ask, suddenly apprehensive now that the rush of lust passed.

“Did you… Was I… Ugh, damn. Would you perhaps?..” he stumbles over his words, not knowing how to phrase his concern that he wasn’t good enough for you and you just indulged him. You stop him mercifully.

“I *did* enjoy it. You *were* incredible. And yes, I would very much love to do this again.”

“Oh,” he says, relaxing against you, the same precious small smile appearing on his face again, now more content than sheepish. You chuckle, stroking his face.

“Besides, you did break my order to keep your hands up. You’ll have to suffer the punishment, or the Wine Guild will need to hear about this.”

He snorts indignantly and blushes at the same time. For the first time in many, many nights he falls asleep with a light heart and a smile still tugging at his lips.

[goldencometpsa]

If you are getting tagged, it’s me. GoldenComet69. I did a search of my main blog and (gasp) it doesn’t appear. Can’t do messages, my likes and comments aren’t even showing up.

You know what that means, right?

✨Shadowbanned✨

Maybe my positive posting overwhelmed Tumblr’s servers and they just HAD to axe me. Can’t be spreading any of this positivity nonsense, oh no no no 🤟

So, if you see this…Hello again! You’re awesome, and I want you to know where I am now. And I don’t want to lose you when my main blog goldencomet69 got shadowbanned.

I’ve already sent a support ticket into Tumblr Support, but idk how long that’s gonna take. In the meanwhile, I’ve tagged everyone I could here so you can follow this account 💫

Okay, let the tagging begin 🌈✨

(I apologize deeply if I was ever annoying. I’m just an eccentric queer. I will atone for my sins. God I hope this works����)

@justabigoldnerd @mirby7 @fellshish @billybatsonmylove @prisiidon @justadumbgaycat @dracoskier @squorttle-pox @leopacheco3 @ellierenae @ironbar36

@autism-purgatory @alinacapellabooks @corinneglass @gimgr-patient-xero @poorreputation @pastellbg @reservoirreputation @i-hate-happy-endings @aalinaaaaaa @florescentantidote @thewaywardwritersstuff @ladymonstrous @winterr-w0nderland @houseplantblank

@cybercelestian @sleepywriter00 @illarian-rambling @nando161mando @meerkatsaddness @despair-nagito @awkwarddragon22 @the-bar-sinister

@addicted2coke-theothercoke @roomtempsalsa @alwri-tes @ink-enchanted @brigidfromthecelts @finickyfelix @saebasanart @cowboybrunch @gioiaalbanoart @corvys-clover @madi-konrad @piscesapplelady35 @cheesybadgers

[chaoticallywriting]

A Merciful King ☼ Chapter Four

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: Violence against women, choking, angst, vaginal fingering, female receiving oral, p n v sex, unprotected sex (i mean she’s already preggers guys)

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N:  I originally posted this series on TheGreensWhore. Unfortunately I got shadowbanned on there so I’m reposting all of amk onto here and will be posting further chapters on here instead of there.

Synopsis: The war is over, the blacks have lost, and as Rhaenrya’s daughter it is your duty to marry a green to secure your younger brothers safety. If only Aemond paid attention to you like his brother does.

Previously || Next

It’s a month and a half later when everyone finds out. By now you're three and a half months along and all you want is to devour sweets (and any fruit) you can get your hands on. You wake up without blood on the sheets for another month, your handmaidens eye each other suspiciously before one finds the courage to speak up.

Marial fiddles with her hands before meekly asking, “have you gone to a maester, your grace?”

“What for?” You know you aren’t the best liar in the family, but you're decent. Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head and eye Marial. You play dumb brilliantly apparently because Myra speaks up next.

“You haven’t bled in months, your grace.”

Your eyes widen as you pick up a small honey cake. Your other hand comes to your stomach as you feign shock.

“Really? Oh my, we should definitely call for one then.” Lila turns her back to the others as she fills your cup with grapefruit juice. It’s another thing you’ve been craving. There’s a knowing look on her face that she hides from the rest.

Marial leaves soon after to fetch one while Lila and Myra do your hair. You softly hum to yourself as they do, thinking about the night before. Almost every night, Aegon has come to you through a secret passage in your wall. You didn’t know about it and find it slightly frightening, but Aegon assured you no one used it. Sometimes he would fuck you, which you’ve grown to like and even sometimes seem to crave. While other times he just holds you. Almost always he falls asleep with his head on your chest and leaves before you wake.

You’ve come to like his presence and find yourself unable to sleep when he doesn’t come. There’s only been two other times besides last night that he did not grace you with his presence. You never asked where he went because you had an idea of what his answer may be.

You're yawning into your hand when Maester Grant and Alicent come waltzing in. The queen mother is grinning from ear to ear when she enters and stands beside the maester throughout his questioning. His questions are simple and you answer them quickly. After only a few minutes, he announces you must be pregnant. Alicent slaps her hands together to look like a prayer and brings them to her mouth as she smiles.

Her reaction makes you sad. At this moment, you wish for your mother and are reminded of how she’ll never meet your child. Suddenly this pregnancy, the one you've been hiding and pretending doesn’t exist, finally becomes real. Alicent distracts your melancholic thoughts by telling the maester he may go before turning back to you.

She walks over and takes your hands in hers, a bright smile on her face. “Motherhood will suit you well, my dear. I already see how well you take to it with your brothers.”

You smile, hands gripping hers. “Thank you, your grace. I am extremely nervous, though.”

Alicent brings her hands up to cup your cheeks, you rest your own against your stomach. She’s never been mean to you since you married Aemond. At first, she tried to have tea with you every day, but as your depression grew you tended to seclude yourself. One day during tea she had said something that stuck with you, something you think of every time you look in the mirror.

“You look just like her. Your face is the exact same.”

You knew she meant your mother. You also know they used to be childhood friends. You can only assume that she finds comfort with your presence, maybe she can pretend your mother is still alive. That everything is fine and everyone survived.

“Do not fret. I believe once you give him a babe, he’ll start to see you in a new light. If he’s so obsessed with his other child, then imagine how he’ll be with yours.”

You imagine he’ll be indifferent, but you don’t tell her that. You only nod and let her have her useless hope. Alicent requests you spend the afternoon with her and shows you fabrics for gowns that must (according to her) be made for when your belly grows.

There’s tea and many sweets are scattered across the table as she fingers a deep green fabric with lace detailing. Everything is green, that much you expected, but still find yourself disappointed.

After a long discussion on which fabrics to choose, you find yourself walking to the library. You have two missions that require heading there. One, you wish to find any Targaryen names that you may like for the babe. You have a vague idea of ones you already like, but want to skim some old history books to see if there are any others.

You’ve read almost every book about your family's history and old homeland. Your childhood consisted of you obsessed over texts and becoming entranced by such grandiose stories.

Number Two is a bit tricky. You know, Aemond spends most of his time there when he’s not training. Since Ser Cole is with Alicent you can only assume he’s in there. As you weave around the shelves, books in your arms, you keep your eyes open for the one eyed prince. It doesn’t take long to find him lounging by the fireplace, long legs elegantly crossed as he leans against the arm rest, book in hand.

You place your books on a desk not far from him and grab the first one before taking the seat across from him. He eyes the spine as you open it, brow raised.

“Any particular reason for the history lesson?”

“A maester visited me this morning.”

There’s a beat of silence. His cool expression doesn’t change, but he clenches his book between his hands.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“Mhmm.”

“Do you really want this baby to grow up with two parents who can’t stand to be in the same room as one another?”

He sighs, closing his book and staring at you. He doesn’t look like he used to. Aemond seems defeated, you can tell by his stature and the look within his eye. He’s slowly becoming a shell of himself, which scares you. It seems everyone has lost themselves due to that useless war. You only wish it never happened.

“ I do not, but I can’t help feeling like I’m betraying her when I’m near you.”

“Look I… I was raised with an interesting family situation regarding my father or fathers. I also know that when we were little, you told me Viserys didn’t care about you.”

Aemond scoffs. The one eyed prince stands, tossing his book onto the table beside him before walking over to the window. His hands are clasped behind him as he peers out of the glass. He can never stand to be near you for long, something that stabs your heart.

“I don’t want that for this babe. I don’t want confusion on who to love or look up to. I don’t want them to feel like they have to fight for your love, either.”

Tossing the book aside, you stand as well, walking over to him and peering up at Aemond. He’s much taller than you, if he looked away from the window he’d have to look down to meet your eyes. But he doesn’t move, you only know he knows you're beside him by the tick in his jaw.

“Do you want to subject a child to the way you felt as one? Is your son going to be your Rheanrya? For someone so smart, I find it unbelievable you’ll willingly repeat the mistakes of your own fath-”

Aemond’s hand wraps around your throat before he can stop himself, his cool expression transforming to one of unbridled rage. Your body smacks into the wall behind you and your vision swims with small black dots.

You wheeze as you fight to keep your hands by your sides and not grip at his own. You won’t look weak to him anymore. Not only that, but you now have the upper hand. You’re done being ignored.

“Say another word about me and I’ll squeeze harder” he threatens. It’s empty though because if you die his son won’t be safe. The realm won’t be safe. Your life is the only thing keeping the ever weakening thread of peace from snapping. He knows this. Aemond is a smart man, one you sometimes admire. Killing you would be a massive mistake. One that might cost him both his families.

“You’re a coward and a kinslayer. You owe me this after you murdered my little brother in cold blood.” He squeezes harder, your words come out in gasps. “Perhaps I’ll name my son Lucerys and teach him how to wield a knife, just as my brother did!”

Aemond’s eye widens in a mixture of shock and rage. He squeezes you hard enough to have you finally begin to panic before he finally lets go and tosses you to the floor. You fall to the floor in a gasping heap, hands smacking against the stone upon impact. One of your wrists stings while your other hand comes up to softly clutch your bruising neck.

You glance up at your husband, eyes filled with the hate you slowly find seeping into your bones. You’ve tried so hard to be agreeable, to be pretty and nice. To be the perfect wife or friend, and yet he still hates you.

Still clings to some fucked up honor code like he’s the epitome of the perfect man. He almost killed you and your babe. The war has changed the smart man you once knew. But also what did you expect? Killing your brother was just as stupid, and yet he still did that.

Aemond glances at you with an unreadable expression before quickly striding away. Leaving the library and never looking back.

“I could have him hanged!” Aegon is the picture of rage as you sip on the tea the maester gave you. Your throat is bruised, and you find it hurts to speak or swallow.

Maester Orlo said to drink this horrid concoction morning, noon, and night and your throat would be better in a few days. Nothing could be done with the bruise on your neck or your sore wrist, but at least you’d be able to talk again without being in pain.

“Nothing good would come of that,” you rasp out. “You’ve bruised me before, too.”

Aegon stops his pacing and walks over to where you sit, placing his goblet on the table and kneeling before you, one hand softly grazing your bruise. You flinch when his fingers touch the sensitive skin and eye him curiously.

“You liked it when I bruised you, I saw it in your eyes. Are you telling me you liked this?” You’ve seen this look before, at the consummation. He looks angry, but also something else. Lips pursed and brows furrowed with that look in his eyes you can’t place. “Do you want him touching you like I have?”

Jealousy, that’s the only thing you can think of. There was a hint of it that first night when he ranted about Aemond getting everything. He breathes heavily as he watches you, hands holding your hips.

“I never said that, Aegon.” You place the teacup onto the table beside you before cupping his cheeks. He leans into your touch and closes his eyes, letting out a content sigh. When he’s not fucking you, all Aegon seems to want is your affection, constantly. It’s a lovely change from being ignored. “You saw how I was that night with him.”

He kisses the palm of your hand before resting his head on your lap, lashes fluttering against his pale cheeks as he contently sighs.

“Mother will set him right tomorrow. She’s the only one he listens to” he murmurs before wrapping his arms around and pulling you closer, nuzzling your stomach. “Aemond better not have hurt my child though, or all will know he’s mine by the way I’ll publicly punish him.”

You warm at his words, a small smile spreading across your face as you card your fingers through his hair. This is all so wrong, but you’re tired of being lonely and Aegon is actually rather sweet to you.

“The babe is fine, my darling.” He practically preens at your words, squeezing you tighter and humming. “I’ve never seen you like this about Jaehaera and Maelor.”

Or Jaehaerys, but you don’t say that. No one mentions him, and you understand why. It’s easier to forget the dead than to constantly remember them, to think of them every day. It eats you up until your only bone and sorrow, no happiness, joy, or even a soul left. Grief can destroy you. It’s easier for you to pretend your mom and brothers are alive. That Baela and Rhaena are back on Dragonstone or Driftmark. It’s just easier to pretend.

“They don’t like me. They won’t talk when I’m around or even look at me, it’s better if I leave them be.”

You pull his face away from your stomach, so he can look into your eyes. Your hands cup his cheeks and your thumb strokes his cheek bone. He smiles and closes his eyes, eating up your affection like a child with cake.

“You are their father, Aegon. Please try with them, if not for me, than for the babe. They deserve your love and attention as much as this baby does. I would like him to have siblings who have a loving relationship with their father.”

He merely nods at your words, his smile turning into a frown as he thinks of all the ways bonding with them may go wrong. He’d try for you though, tomorrow morning he’ll march into the nursery and give it his best shot.

“Okay,” he murmurs, leaning up on his knees and kissing you. It’s delicate and sweet, you find yourself sliding your fingers into his hair and sighing into the kiss. He smiles against your lips and deepens it.

Ever since you’ve started reciprocating his affections, he’s become giddy to see you every day. All thoughts revolve around his nights with you, he finds himself distracted during small council meetings or interactions with anyone. Thoughts plagued with you and only you.

“I love you,” his words slip out without a second to think them over, his lips grazing yours. You feel him tense underneath your hands as you stop raking them through his hair. You're frozen at his confession, having no clue how to feel.

He pulls away from you upon hearing your silence, eyes burning with betrayal and hurt. Aegon looks like a wounded puppy as he stands and walks over to the door. He stops as his hand grazes the knob and storms back over to you without a second thought.

“Do you not love me?!”

You jump at the volume of his voice and quickly stand, trying to shush him as you panic. You both are usually so quiet in case anyone passes by your doors. If they hear him, everything will be over. Unfortunately, your panic only serves to fuel his anger and scowls, tears swelling in his eyes.

“Don’t try to quiet me! Let's tell the whole castle of your trickster ways, letting me into your bed just to use me… What even for?”

“Aegon…” You shake your head as your voice finally finds you. Hesitantly, you take a few small steps in his direction, stopping in front of the broken man. You raise your hands to cup his cheeks, but he flinches away from your touch. Your heart burns at his rejection, your own eyes beginning to tear up.

“We are playing a dangerous game, why can you not see that? You always assure me everything will be fine, and yet we’re both married! With everyone thinking this babe is his, there will be no way to annul our marriage. How can I say those words out loud when I know tragedy lurks around the corner, it edges closer every time we meet.”

“I could kill him.”

You shake your head, the tears now racing down your cheeks. His cheeks are streaked with his own, eyes turning red as he continues to cry.

“You would never, and I would never ask that of you.” Once more you try to touch him and this time he relents. Your fingers delicately wipe away his tears before cupping his cheeks. Aegon leans into your touch as he always does, always starved for any affection. “How can this end with us happy?”

“I have never loved someone as I love you. I love you more than my own family, you’ve shown me a kindness and patience none of them ever have. I…” He presses his forehead against your own, taking a deep breath in as if it's his last one. “I have loved you since we were children, I was denied your hand and forced to marry my sister. I’ll burn everything to the ground to keep this happiness. After all this suffering, I will not lose the sweet taste of your lips against my own.”

His words chill you to the bone. This declaration is enough to start a war, and you can’t figure out if you're terrified or overjoyed. You’ve felt for so long that you are unlovable. That your existence will be one of misery and loneliness, and yet the most unlikely person has stepped up to show you otherwise.

“Just say it… please.” Your heart breaks at the crack in his voice, at the desperation he’s displaying. You can’t help but cry harder as you feel for this man in front of you. Both so desperate for love that it eats you alive.

He must mistake your tears for rejection, and you feel him begin to pull away, physically and mentally. Shaking your head rapidly, you crash your lips onto his to keep him near you, it’s nothing romantic. Teeth clash against teeth and tongues slide against one another.

You pour your nearly broken heart into this kiss, trying to show him how much you need him to stay. How you’ll finally break if he leaves. All the cracks within your beating heart have been glued by him, you find if you're alone again everything will fall apart. It’s only when you feel yourself grow lightheaded do you pull away to try to breathe. You're both gasping for air as you press your foreheads together, noses bumping one another and lips nearly touching.

“I love you too,” you whisper. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Aegon pulls you back into a kiss, gripping your waist to try to pull you closer. Your bodies practically meld into one as his arms wrap around you to keep you close. Your arms wrap around his neck as you kiss him back, moaning into the kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, begging for everything you have. You give it to him without second thought, your mouth opening as you moan. His tongue slips inside without a second to spare.

Your knees hit the back of your bed, and he pushes you against it, falling onto the cushiony mattress with you, lips never leaving yours. Your hands pull at the ends of his curly hair, invoking a moan from deep within his chest as he pulls away from your lips. His hands slide to the bottom of your nightgown which has bunched around your waist and pulls it off of you. Your hands find his shirt and help him pull it off before he’s momentarily pulling away to take his pants off.

You find those few seconds without his touch unbearable and reach towards him while whining. He smirks at you, eyes lidded before climbing back between your legs, leaning down to press kisses up your thighs. You impatiently groan and try to tug him back up your body, thighs trying to rub together for any chance of friction. By now he’s fucked you enough to have you used to the feel of his cock within you, and you want it now.

“I can’t possibly fuck you yet, I haven’t even tasted you.”

You keen at his words and watch as he teasingly licks a slow strip through your folds, making you groan as you both maintain eye contact. He continues doing that for a few moments before kitten licking your bud. You feel one of his fingers pressing at your entrance before slowly sliding inside of you, he quickly adds a second one after a few slow thrusts and watches you impatiently grind your hips against his tongue and fingers.

The feel of him chuckling against you only makes you more aroused. Aegon stops his teasing and latches onto your bud, sucking the sensitive bundle before adding a third finger and making a come hither motion inside of you. Your head rolls back at his motions, and soon your moans fill the bedchambers, overtaking the crackling of fire and the sound of your wetness. Your hands delve back into his hair, and you tug on the stands as you continue to grind against him while whining.

“C-Close… So close.” Your words only spur him on, his other hand goes to press against your hips to keep you still as he speeds up, rapidly hitting your sensitive spot inside. You find yourself at a loss for words as you arch your back and squeeze your eyes shut, coming against his fingers and tongue. He continues through your orgasm and only stops after you’ve calmed down.

Aegon pulls his fingers out of you and moves up to your face, pressing his fingers against your lips. You greedily accept his offer and moan around his long digits as you taste yourself. He groans at the sight and quickly pulls them away from you, so he lined himself up with your entrance.

Your mouth falls open in a breathy moan as he slowly thrusts inside you, his eyes briefly closing as he moans at the feeling of you squeezing around him. You always take him so well, and he can’t help but feel that you were made for him.

“Say it again” his voice is raspy as he makes his demands, keeping still inside you as his eyes meet your own. You look so pretty beneath him, eyes half lidded and pupils blown. Lips bruised from his kisses and cheeks flushed. He decides he wants a commission of you like this, but also doesn’t want anyone else to see you the way he does.

“I-I love you,” you moan. Your hands cup his cheeks and pull him down for a bruising kissing. Aegon begins to fuck you at a brutal pace that you're loudly moaning within his mouth. His thrusts are hard and fast, and he’s hitting that sensitive spot inside you that makes your toes curl. Your tongues messily slide against one another as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer.

If someone were to talk in right now, they wouldn’t have a clue as to where you begin, and he ends. You're consumed by him, completely and irrevocably. His scent fills you and his kisses leave you thoughtless. His own thrusts make you obsessed with him, and you find that you never want this to end.

One of his hands slides down and begins to circle your nub. He barely pulls away from your lips to watch as you groan. He can feel how close you are by the way your walls convulse around him, and he finds himself close as well. You move your hips in time with his thrusts as your nails claw his back, turning him on further.

“Fuck!” You cry out as you come around his cock, back arching and legs shaking, eyes squeezed shut. Aegon thrusts a few times as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm once before his hips stutter, and he spills inside you. His head nestles into the crook of your neck as he moans, cock twitching inside of you.

You both stay like that, wrapped around one another, while you catch your breath. He begins to pepper kisses down your neck, making sure to avoid the hand shaped bruise around your neck. You blissfully sigh as you feel sleepiness begin to overcome you.

“I will find a way to make us have a happy ending.” His words do little to calm the anxiety that's always lurking in the pit of your stomach. But you nod anyway and pull him away from your neck to peck his lips. He smiles into it and wraps his arms around you. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And you really do, which you find terrifies you. Love has no place in the dangerous game you both play, and yet it’s blossomed between the cracks and made itself at home inside the both of you. It’s shocking to know that this is the man who makes you feel safe and happy. Who brings a smile to your face and makes you think the future doesn’t look so bad.

But you also don’t believe in fairy tales, and you find yourself far too jaded to believe his words. You only hope this ends with you all alive and not another mindless war. You’d rather end yourself then deal with another one. But you won’t tell him any of that, it’ll only hurt him, and you don’t wish to do that. So instead, you brush your fingers through his hair and listen to his soft breathing. You stay like that until eventually sleep takes you too.

[pappydaddy]

style (j.m.)

a/n: this is a test to see if i really am shadowbanned. i have excluded any links and tags.

show/movie: outer banks

pairing: jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

not requested

synopsis: good-girl kook y/n and bad boy pogue jj, something that y/n doesn’t want to go out of style. no matter what brought them together.

warnings: fwb kinda gig, secret relationship (a little), infidelity (kinda), steamy make-out

masterlist found under navigation in bio

next part: i wish you would, found on my obx masterlist under jj and series | how you get the girl posted!

note: i usually link and tag people, but in an effort to see if i am shadowbanned or i need to redo all my links, i decided to use this to test.

not my gif | my header

Eleven o’clock at night, Y/N sat there, eyes trained on the window waiting for the text to pop up onto her phone. Dressed in her best dress with the shortest skirt that she knew he loved, she waited for JJ - the Pogue bad boy her parents hated. She wasn’t sure what it was about JJ that made her lose all control. Made her lose her good-girl facade, but she knew for sure it wasn’t to piss off her parents since they didn’t even know about her hanging around JJ, she made sure of that in fear that they would ruin it. 

  “jj and sandra are leaving the wreck in two dif cars” Kie texted the group chat between her, Y/N and Sarah, before adding three side-eye emojis. Y/N glanced at it, eyes narrowing. When Kie texted telling them that he was hanging out with her, anger and jealousy filled Y/N even though she knew she had no place. They weren’t actually dating. They are just slightly more than hooking up. JJ took her to their secret hangout spot for romantic picnics and she was content knowing that she was the only one he did that for. Their hookups were more like sleepovers with sex, he would spend weeks holed up in her room when John B just assumed he was hooking up with random people. 

  “kick a soccer ball at her new nose on the first day of school, y/n.” Sarah urged. Sandra Hanson was the only other kook other than Kie and Y/N who went to the public school. Sarah is planning to transfer, but she cannot make any promises as of yet. Sitting comfortably in slightly higher than middle class, Y/N’s parents were not too happy about their daughter wanting to go to public school, but they surrendered to her begging. They didn’t know it was a ploy to get closer to her crush, JJ. Sandra had been expelled from the Kook Academy for disorderly conduct. 

  “they appeared to be doing homework but idk, seems sus.” Kie texted back an update. Y/N stood from the foot of her bed, pacing around. She hasn’t heard from JJ for weeks. She hadn’t even really heard from him, only getting a ‘be ready by midnight’ text from him after radio silence. This wasn’t uncommon for them. Y/N had hinted about wanting more for their relationship and JJ had seemed to disappear for a little bit besides them hanging out within their friend group. 

 ‘jj doing homework? Yeah right” Sarah sent with an eye-roll emoji. “ idk tho why would jj suddenly take interest in sandra when hes obvi obsessed with y/n, something is up…” She added quickly, a second grey bubble popping up under the other. 

  Y/N ignored this as the clock changed to eleven fifty-nine, igniting a swirl of butterflies within her stomach. Nobody knew about them. Well, what there was to know about them. They didn’t know about the late nights spent tangled together, stripped of clothes and defences - naked in front of each other. They didn’t know that Y/N’s classic, signature red lipstick stained JJ’s neck and other bits of skin regularly. They didn’t know anything. 

  The distant and familiar rattle of John B’s van excited her. Looking out her window, she could see the dark silhouette of the van turning into her driveway, pausing for a moment. Even with the headlights off, she could see, in the glow of the moon, JJ’s arm reaching out and punching in the code for the gate in her driveway. A burst of warmth filled her heart at the thought of JJ knowing the code to her gate off by heart. 

  Rushing out of her room and down the stairs, she was too eager to wait for him to even get out of the van and meet her at the door. By the time he was pulling up, she was already out the door and locking it. “Wow, someone’s eager.” JJ whistled, eyes shamelessly raking her up and down, checking her out. 

  “Oh, shut up.” She teased, rolling her eyes in fake annoyance. The smile stretching across her red painted lips gave her away. JJ, despite her already heading for the van, got out. She paused for a second, breath-taken away by the sight. She swears he moves in slow-motion half the time. Like a cheesy slow-motion clip of a really hot character in a show.

  JJ was the type of guy that made even the simplest outfit look hot. Blue jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket (definitely not the outfit worn in the picture Kie sent the group chat earlier). Just three simple pieces of clothing and he looks like sex on a stick. She watched him, slightly slack jawed, as he stretched, his muscles flexing. The white shirt did little to hide his defined abdomen as the moonlight rained down upon him like a spot light. His hands reached into his blonde locks, tossing the perfectly styled hair just the right way (again, much different than the messy hair hidden beneath the backwards baseball cap in the picture Kie sent). 

  The one piece of solstice she had within her relationship was that JJ tried with her. The other girls he’s seen with, he puts in the minimum amount of effort with them. But with her, he tried. Tried with his physical appearance, his emotions, and his intellect. The sentiment warmed her heart, her vital organ glowing like a star (something only JJ could make it do). 

  “Alright, let’s get going,” JJ groaned as he stretched more, his white shirt rising up just enough to allow his lower stomach to peek through. She nodded, following him as he led her towards the passenger side of the van. Opening the door for her, he gave her his hand to help her up. The contact of their skin was like an electric stock to her, making her flex her hand once he let go of it, closing the door. Her keen eyes didn’t fail to pick up the same movement from JJ’s hand as he jogged around the van. “I thought we would just drive around, there is some really rich Kook thing happening on the beach right by our spot.” 

  “Sounds good to me.” She sighed, wiggling in the seat to get comfortable. As much as they both tried within their thing, they both found themselves one-hundred percent comfortable with each other. She knew them too well. This long drive could end in burning flames or paradise. Either sending them into another flurry of sex, heat, and passion or into another pit of minimum contact. 

____

  Two AM. JJ drives them back to her house, his wild eyes seeming to have a hard time staying off her as she lounges back in her seat. His hand, clamped on her bare thigh, squeezed gently, making her look over at him. Her eyes twinkled in the moonlight, her hair flowing around them as he sped down the street. The corner of her lips turned up into a sweet smile, making his knees weak. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, the goodest Kook of them all, that drove him wild in such a tame and domesticated way, but it scared him. It scared him that he loved that red lip, classic look so much. It scared him that he loved her. 

  Pulling up to her gate once again, this time the yellow-tinted headlights of the van reflected back of the steel gate, hitting them. Easily, he punched in the code, slowly driving forward as the gate squeaked open. The van was bathed in a comfortable silence, as if they had been married for five years already. Just enjoying each other’s presence. 

  Wordlessly, they both got out, JJ’s hand finding the small of her back as they walked to her front door together. Nobody needed to say anything. They had an unspoken communication that JJ was coming into her house. 

  Y/N had doubts. She was tired of their circles. She wanted something more, but the last time she brought it up, it sent JJ into hiding for weeks. All the lights were off, just as she suspected as her parents were on a business trip, as she opened the door, letting them both in. Without hesitation, he walks past her as she turns around to shut and lock the door. 

  She could hear the rustling of him shrugging out of his leather jacket, discarding it onto the coat rack he knew they used religiously. In the back of her mind, she considers telling him to leave because she knows this will never change, this will lead to the exact same thing, but as she turns around to see him standing there, she decides going in the circle of crashing down and coming back every time was a much better option. 

  “I heard you were out and about with some other girls. Audrey Glassman last night at a Pogue party and Sandra Hanson tonight at the Wreck.” She brought up, eyebrows raised as she tried to play her jealousy off as intrigue and curiosity. JJ could see right through her, he always could. 

  Bowing his head, he slowly walked to her, closing the distance between them and she let him, standing there unmoving as she watched him get closer. “Look, yes, I hung out with them, but Y/N, I couldn’t get you off my mind for the past few weeks. It’s been driving me mad. I couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was with them.” He told her earnestly, hands falling on her hips as he stepped toe-to-toe to her, his breath fanning her face as they stared into each other’s eyes. 

  She hummed, head bowing for a second as she nodded. She knew what he was saying. She found her eyes flicking up to meet his. She swore that for a second, she was feeling what her grandmother felt whenever she gushed about the time she met James Dean. The same handsome sparkle she sees in the old picture of the two (she was pretty sure they dated but, her grandmother won’t confess). “Yeah, I’ve been there too a few times.” She admitted. 

  It was true. JJ always seemed to occupy her mind. Even when she was with other guys. The way he cannot seem to keep his wild eyes on the road when they’re driving somewhere. The way he fits right into her house as if he lives there too. The way his eyes sparkle when he looks at her. It was never sexual (well, rarely sexual) whenever she thought of him. Sure, she thought of his touch, but it was the comforting feel of his hand on her lower back as he’s guiding her to their private date spot in the dark or the light feeling of his fingertips pressing into her upper back whenever he feels protective over her (usually whenever Rafe is nearby). 

  “What do you say, Baby,” JJ asked, using his hands planted on her hips to pull her flush to him. She gasped, looking down at their bodies pressed against each other. She could feel every bump and dip of his body. She could feel his defined muscles, she could feel the heat radiating off him. She could feel another bump. Gingerly, her fingers found themselves dancing along his back, feeling the way his muscles rippled when he moved ever so slightly. “You forgive me? Nothing happened with either of them, you have my word and I might not have much, but I do have that.” 

  He leaned his head down, their foreheads touching in such a sweet and innocent way, a stark contrast to the way their bodies felt flush against each other, his nose brushing against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed, but she could feel his staring at her intently. Her eyes fluttered closed as she relished in the feeling. His breath fanned over her lips as he watched her intently, not doing anything until he knew for sure she was okay. Slowly, almost non-existent, there was a nod. “Yeah.” She breathed out. 

  “Good,” He breathed out in the same way. “Now, let me show you exactly why you were on my mind when I was with them.” He whispered seconds before their lips crashed together in a feverish kiss. It was messy, hands roaming everywhere, lips mushed together so hard it almost hurt. Tongues and a little bit of spit moving from mouth to mouth, but they didn’t care if drool was rolling down either of their faces. They were too absorbed in the feeling of each other. 

  Chests rose and fell rapidly and it was only a few seconds in, but that’s how passionate they are. Hums, moans, and panting were the only sounds in the quiet house as her Hands gripped the bottom of JJ’s t-shirt, pulling it up. Her knuckles dragged along his abs (both for her pleasure and his) making his muscles ripple and his back hunch slightly. Humming into the kiss at the feeling, Y/N nearly ripped the shirt off him, making him pull away to get rid of the barrier before resuming the kiss with more vigour, forcefully lifting her up into the air, her legs wrapping around his waist as some sort of automatic response. His arms tightened around her waist, pushing her against him. Her pelvis rolled against his clothed bulge, making him whine slightly at the feeling. 

  The air in the room was already thick with the smell of arousal and sex. Their skin became sticky as they worked each other up, hands roaming each other’s bodies like someone exploring new land. It was as if they were a force when together, possessing the power to make any room seem like a sex room in under ten seconds. 

  With her back pressed into the wall suddenly, JJ’s weight pressing her flush against it, he rolled his pelvis into hers making her tear her lips away from him, the feeling of his clothed, jean-clad pelvis rolling against hers that was basically only covered by her panties due to her skirt riding up send shock waves through her body. His lips latched onto her throat without a second thought, inciting another gasp from her - a sound that drove him mad. Another quick roll and she cried out, body falling forward onto him. Tears pricked her eyes as her head pulled back, hitting the wall. JJ’s tongue licked the spot he knew made her weak, humming at the sound of her whimper before biting it gently, enticing a gasp from her. Her breasts pressed against him harder, her fingers disappearing into his blonde hair as he continued his attack on her neck. 

  Sure, she should have told him to leave, but that wouldn’t have fixed anything. There is no way to pull them apart. No matter how many times she tells him to leave, they just keep coming back because they will never go out of style. Never. Now, be that the sheer magnitude of their passion and feelings or the pull of the stereotype they so perfectly fit, Y/N had no idea, but she never wanted it to stop.  

[antimony-medusa]

Okay so, why do we tag things (on Ao3). Story hits you with a little summary and then a list of things that happen in it that's as long as your arm— why's that happening? So on Ao3, there are two reasons to tag things, and they both fit into how Ao3's search function works. You tag a story with "hurt no comfort", and "cyberpunk au" and that means that it shows up when people search "hurt no comfort" (the opt-in aspect of tagging culture), but it also does NOT show up when someone is searching "cyberpunk au" but has blocked "hurt no comfort" (the opt-out aspect of tagging culture).

Tags can serve as both an enticement, for people who want specifically that thing, and a warning, for people who might be like "you know actually I don't think I can handle that right now". And I sometimes see people who are used to the way other sites use tags hit Ao3, and they are NOT used to how the tagging culture works, and they either tag their work inappropriately, or they are freaked out by the way other people's work is tagged.

On most social media sites nowdays, you tag things for exposure. People follow or search certain tags, and if you tag your tiktok with #foryoupage, it's more likely to show up on people's For You Page. (I think, Tiktok is an arcane mystery to me). There are definitely tags that circulate your fandom that are there to lure people in who are searching for that tag, I know for sure that people search on "humans are space orcs", and I have searched for "Technoblade is autistic" and I know there are people searching for "Tommyinnit gets a hug", etc. Sort of positive tagging.

Anyways, I have seen people scrolling and then they hit something tagged with like, "rape/non-con", and then they go WHAT THE FUCK WHAT ALGORITHM IS ON THE GO HERE WHY AM I BEING SHOWN THAT.

But the thing is, there's no algorithm on the go here. Sometimes yes, people are tagging with a tag that you personally see as horrible and they mean it as an enticement (A) horny brain works in marvellous and non-logical ways, B) sometimes people want to read about the worst possible thing happening), but a very good portion of the time that tag is there as a warning and to make sure that if people have excluded that tag, they don't even have to see it. You can't rely on the algorithm to not show you things you don't want to see, you're responsible for excluding the stuff that you go "uh no" to from the search. But once you HAVE excluded it, poof. You will not see that shit.

The tag is there specifically to make sure that nobody has something triggering hits them when they're unprepared, just reading along happily and then boom, erotic cannibalism. That shit is supposed to be in the tags.

(The one exception to that is if the author has selected "choose not to warn", which you are supposed to take as a warning that it's alllll on the table. Buyer beware, there could be absolutely anything happening here, including major triggering content. So I know people who search with a bunch of excluded content, and they just exclude Choose Not To Warn as well.)

Anyways, people get used to the way other sites use tags, and not only do they not know why people are tagging with all these negative things, they get used to the shadowbans. If you mention [list of things tiktok hates], you won't show up when people search. So then they don't put any tags they figure are objectionable on the work.

This is EXTREMELY counterproductive to the way Ao3 actually works, because there is no algorithm or shadowban on Ao3. Anyone who's been there a long time has had the experience of searching something and then like the third hit is something where you go "I did not even know that was a kink, okay, life is a rich tapestry", which on any other site would have been shadowbanned so hard. Which means that yes, your post is going to show up in more searches, but actually that's a bad thing, because it's going to show up as a hit for people who would really prefer not to see that.

The whole idea of Ao3 tagging culture is that you can opt in to your experience when you choose to read, whether that means you're searching for the [bad thing] or blocking the [bad thing]. When you avoid tagging things, surprising people with things like underage sex when they have had every expectation to know that they avoided that, that's BAD.

Tagging lets you actually find the target audience of people who wants to read what you wrote, and it lets people who are going to be mad or hurt by your work stay away.

Anyways this is a really long-winded way to say TAG YOUR SHIT PLEASE.

[rocketturtle4]

Only Friends, a possible take on Mews feelings

(…wasn’t going to post this week because I’m still shadowbanned but here we are) EDIT: No longer shadowbanned here's a post about how I frame aceness and talking about it in BL if anyone is curious.

So I have seen a lot of confusion and different takes on Mew this week which is lots of fun and my favourite so far has been this one by @slayerkitty (If I had in fact read that one before writing most of this I probably wouldn't have bothered BUT I already wrote it and the brain rot is real sooooo....)

First and foremost I want to note that Mew has come across so far to me as rather Demiromantic & Demisexual, (which, as its my own orientation, is definitely going to involve some projecting). I do not necessarily think this IS his orientation but that's the lens this post is going to take.

(Small sidenote I wrote a long post about Aceness in BL and how I’ve related to it and seen it depicted a little while after Be My Fav ended, that I WISH I COULD REFER TO however I am waiting for the shadowbanning to end before posting it so I can interact with people. I am frustrated by this.)

We have been told reasonably clearly that Mew has never had strong sexual or romantic feelings for a person before Top and I do think this goes a long way towards understanding his actions so far.

Evidence:

He is not really seen checking out/flirting with anyone (other than Top) at any point (and in THIS show, I count this as evidence because we have seen ALL the other main characters check out people on the regular, this show is doing a good job of showcasing casual sexual attraction as a part of the day to day and Mew is not showing signs of this.)

Mew explicitly mentions that he has never clicked with anyone before, ergo he’s never really been attracted to anyone before.

Mew tells Ray that Top is the first one to make his heart flutter.

Mew seems somewhat disconnected from his friends experience with sex and attraction.

In some ways Mew even seems disconnected from his OWN sexual and romantic attraction

Do I think this means he’s definitely doubleDemi: Nope

Why this matters for my take: If Mew has never experienced attraction before, or never experienced it strongly before, then delving into his feelings might feel a lot more daunting than people might think. Because it’s not about this being his first sexual encounter/romantic relationship, its about this being the first time he has ever felt these emotions.

My take on Mew and Top

Re: Mews Virginity. Boston was the first person to tell Top that Mew was a virgin, later, in the counter scene, when Mew stops things he says ‘I’m not ready’ and then ‘I’ve never done it’. This does not imply to me that he has no experience, just that those experiences likely haven’t involved his genitals (we'll see if I eat my words next week).

Okay Ep 1 (I am going mostly off memory)

We see from the beginning that Mew is less connected into the bar scene than his friends, he’s introduced as the tablekeeper and is the one collecting people to leave once he’s had enough. He is also put forth as the one most academically inclined which often implies a sense of responsibility (while the bar scene does the opposite.)

Top, our Top Tier, (brought in by Boston so Boston could turn their fun in the phone booth into another encounter,) is intrigued by Mew for being so different from what he typically encounters at the bar scene and is successful in getting Mew to take him home.

Now, WHY did Mew agree if he is not yet particularly attracted to Top you ask? (I ask, same dif)

Curiosity

Do you know what its like for all the people around you to talk about Sex and just...not get it? To stare around at people eyeing each other up and down and feel…nothing? And I mean it’s not like Mew is celibate for other reasons…he’s just… not interested.

He’s also what 22? And Horny? (Because as a reminder Ace people still have a libido and some of them want to have sex, aceness is explicitly about lacking attraction to an individual)

So he takes Top home and then things get started and he realizes hey, no, what, I’m not sure about this.

And he stops things.

Because while he is experiencing lust from the situation, he’s not really comfortable in his attraction.

“I just feel like I don’t know you well enough.”

That is not just a line, that is an explicit feeling that I have felt. It wells up inside and squirms into every part of you. I can’t do this, I don’t know you well enough.

But it’s also VERY MUCH about both fear and control. I agreed with a lot of posts in the first few weeks about Mews desire to remain in control, but to me this is strongly linked to his possible sexuality. He is USED to feeling in control because he hasn’t experienced strong attraction before. He doesn’t know what it’s like to stare at someone and lust after them, or even what its like to dream about falling asleep in their arms.

These are brand new emotions, big, scary, new, emotions and they are probably making him feel rather OUT of control and so all the distance we see from Top, and even from himself, is him attempting to stay regulated.

He even seems aware of this in his disclaimer that if he were to go all in on his feelings, he would be a crazy stalker, because those brand-new feelings are unlike anything he has felt before. (I remember the first time I experienced it I could only liken it to extreme anger or fear, or the highest excitement, it was just so much stronger than I’d imagined)

Additional Note Re: @plantsarepeopletoo

Another part of this, which Paprika put forth and I agree with, is that Mew might be scared of his emotions because he's afraid of hurting others. He's the table keeper, the even keel, the calm one, he keeps everyone's stuff safe and makes sure everyone gets home. (And he fails at this once he starts paying attention to Top...). (But I'll get to Ray)

Let’s fast track a bit

We have a cute montage of the getting to know you, they eat ice cream, they go to the library, Top helps out with the project. The getting to know you is going well and Mew is absolutely feeling things.

And then Top jumps the gun a bit because he is still trying to fast track to the good stuff and Mew says yes to save his face.

In Ep 2

We have Mew confessing to Ray that Top makes his heart flutter (the first time this has ever happened). We see Mew starting to test his own boundaries and feelings, but FIRST we get him asking Top to backtrack a bit because he’s been moving too fast, and he only said yes because Top asked him in public.

After that boundary is back up we get Mew teasing and testing and feeling out how things stand.

What can he do that lets him explore things without them progressing too far?

If he does x what does Top assume he wants?

Because Mew has NO IDEA where Tops boundaries are, Mew’s not ready for sex, I imagine that if he could be sure that making out with Top would stop at making out he might have tried it by now, but their first make out escalated rather quickly so he is being careful. (as @slayerkitty puts it he doesn't trust Top yet) but I also posit that he may not trust himself yet.

He doesn’t allow the bed sharing, but he does later allow the cuddling. Why? Because the couch cuddle is after increased emotional vulnerability, it’s helping Mew see that Top is moving with him. It builds trust. It builds connection. It builds emotion (it builds demi stability...)

Ep 3

Not a WHOLE lot happened in Ep 3, we were very Mark and Boston focused but here’s what I got:

Mew is getting more comfortable with his feelings for Top, and he’s trying to move them towards being on the same page (I read some excellent takes on the disco scene and the disconnect between their clothing in both that scene and the later one)

He’s stopped correcting people when they say Top is his boyfriend, including Top, that was the main change we saw this Ep for the record. Mew has already made it clear that the label is important to him, and this suggests to me he is growing increasingly comfortable with the relationship.

Top is also the first one Mew calls later on. He's go to number 1.

The PROBLEM with EP 3 is 1 Boston is getting in Top’s head and 2 Mew has NOT BEEN COMMUNICATING. (Because he doesn't trust...)

Mew has been testing out his feelings and playing with his boundaries because he has genuine feelings for Top but he hasn’t TOLD Top this (he also hasn’t told us this so I could be totally wrong but - projecting) and so even though Mew is nearly ready to move things forward (next eps teaser), all Top knows is his own sexual frustration and Boston’s half truths so… it’s about to get ugly up in here.

Any Questions? (I can’t answer them but ask away lol)

My take on Mew and Ray

Real quick my projections

Mew and Ray’s moment from 2 years ago was probably Ray kissing Mew for a bit, Mew letting it happen (again curiosity) but stopping before things got any further.

OR Ray confessing his feelings, Mew inviting the kiss (because again, he has had no attraction before and was curious) but realizing after a bit he felt nothing and stopping it.

Mew stopping Top in ep 1 before he got the pants off makes me think the pants have never come off for Mew before.

What this means IMO

Mew is aware of Ray’s feelings because of the two years ago incident

They presumably 1 talked about it and agreed to stay friends

Or 2 silently agreed to never acknowledge it again because the feelings weren’t reciprocal and they wanted to stay friends.

This tracks for me in the way Mew seems to keep a bit of distance from Ray but still wants to be there for him, but also emphasises ‘friends’ in their ep 2 hug/chat.

Also the way Mew seems excited by Ray’s interest in Sand.

I don’t think Mew is intentionally hurting Ray, more that they both agreed to ignore it since so long ago that it’s part of the background noise at this stage.

ALSO

I honestly also think that Mew and Ray are the closest two of the friend group (I have speculated that maybe Mew was there for Ray when his mom died). (AGAIN @slayerkitty explains this well, like, their take on the friend group felt nearly plucked out of my brain). My guess is that the incident 2 years ago left them a bit more distant. However, Mew had no way of knowing Ray was with Sand (I don’t buy the encouraged him means Mew knows they’re hooking up. ‘Make sure you talk to him’ is not the same as 'take him home and do him', especially in Mew’s book)

After Top who else was Mew going to call? Boston? BOSTON?? Or Cheum?, who Mew knows came to the party with her girlfriend. (Also gender rolls and the societal appropriateness of sleeping over at a girls house lesbian or not).

Yeah, Ray is the most sensible second choice.

(My fav take on the car scene so far, Ray & Sand Perspective: here @idleorbitals)

Thoughts?

[sundrop-writes]

Shared Trauma

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader

Summary:

Gar had a very hard day. You know you can’t take away the pain, so you try your best to distract him from it instead.

Sub!Gar Logan x Dom!Fem!Reader. Friends to Lovers. Smut and Angst. Set during Season 1, Episode 7.

Word Count: 3,600

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: some emotional angst, mentions of trauma/PTSD - Gar kills someone for the first time and is very upset about it (as in the canon), friends to lovers, takes place during Season 1 Episode 7 (“Asylum”), descriptions of canon level violence, this is a smut fic, the reader character is implied to be fat, the reader character uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina, this isn’t a hard sub/dom relationship but there is sub/dom undertones, Gar is more submissive and the reader is more dominant, the reader calls Gar ‘good boy’ and he really likes it, tiddy sucking, p in v sex, unprotected sex, the reader rides Gar, creampie, quick/desperate sex. I believe that’s everything. Most of the focus here is on the emotional side of things and not the smut so if you wanna see more PWP, definitely let me know.

A/N: fic is titled after a Pierce The Veil song because I have been obsessed with the new album, and I think it really fits here. Having a trauma with someone, but it just draws you closer together and makes you seek comfort in them. I did consider making up a mission that wasn’t in the canon for this, but I am always drawn to how sad, wet, and pathetic he is after killing the scientist, especially if we’re doing sub!Gar - he seems especially subby and in need of comfort.

...

When you woke up alone, you weren’t entirely surprised. 

Of course you missed Gar’s presence beside you in bed. But you hadn’t exactly expected him to be sleeping peacefully after the day the two of you had. 

You and Gar were always the type of best friends to share a bed. Both of you sought the kind of comfort that could only come from cuddling close to the warm body of a safe person. Most often, you could only fall asleep beside each other. 

It had been that way since he had first been taken in by Doctor Caulder and he had come to you for comfort after he had woken up sorely missing his parents. On that first night, you had fallen asleep cradling him, and pretty much every night since then, the two of you shared a bed without question. 

The two of you were just intensely affectionate people, and you saw nothing wrong with expressing your friendship through those simple touches. It was just friendly, after all. 

The two of you always hugged each other tight and held hands while walking in public. There were many times when Gar put his arm around you or kissed you on the forehead, or times when you kissed him on the cheek. You weren’t shy about expressing your very platonic love for your best friend (at least, that’s what you had to tell yourself). 

The two of you weren’t romantically involved - you were just very close best friends. 

No matter what others thought when they looked at you, having those stereotypes in their minds about a guy and girl not being able to be ‘just friends’. Even if you wanted to play into that stereotype so badly with him - even if you wanted all of those people to be right. You would never risk ruining your friendship with him just because of some annoying crush. You were very good at keeping all of your stupid feelings trapped inside of your chest. 

Especially on days like this. When life got hardest, he needed you to be there more as a friend than anything else. And you needed him too. 

It was one of the reasons that he had gotten into bed with you that night, despite the fact that he scoffed at the very mention of trying to sleep. He wanted to be there for you. So you really weren’t surprised when you woke up and the bed was cold, void of his presence. Because of course, he couldn’t sleep. 

It had been a long, hectic, shitty day. 

After everything that had happened, you weren’t even really ‘sleeping’ yourself. 

You were drifting on the edge of consciousness, so exhausted from the day that your body was trying to forcibly knock you out. Between Kory and Dick screwing loudly on one side and Rachel and her birth mother chattering brightly and even crying on the other side, you had been having a very hard time falling asleep. That, and the horrors of the day still flashing through your mind. It made for a deadly cocktail that kept you awake. If not for the pure exhaustion of day’s events weighing you down - then you probably wouldn’t have closed your eyes at all. 

When you came back into a hard consciousness this time, though, you missed the feeling of Gar’s arm around your waist. You instantly missed the feeling of his pleasant warmth at your back - cradling you, making you feel safe. 

Before you even had your fully eyes open, you were out of bed yourself. It was almost an instinct, being so entirely drawn to him. You wandered out to the larger living space of the very expensive condo ‘safehouse’ with your socked feet on the cold floor. You clutched at your own arms under the loose sleeves of your oversized sleep shirt as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

You wondered in the back of your mind what the weather was like outside and if Dick had turned on the heat before going to bed. Then you had to wonder if adjusting the thermostat was even a concern in anyone’s mind after such a long day. It was probably only on your mind now that you were missing your human heater. 

You found Gar sitting on the couch. 

He had his oversized green headphones on, his phone screen providing the only real light in the room - aside from the everpresent glow of the city that leaked in from the tall glass panels that could be called walls in the ultra modern house. He was holding the screen inches away from his face as he slumped back against the unused couch. 

He was likely making an imprint of himself that would be the only ‘lived in’ essence of the overwhelming cold, expensive atmosphere of the place. From the sideways tilt of the screen and the way his thumbs were moving, you easily guessed that he was playing some kind of game. Something to distract his mind from the day’s events still playing there on repeat like a bad movie. 

He was wearing a pair of sweatpants that Dick had given him, dug out of a drawer of clothing that was apparently always kept in the place in case a need for it should come up. Just something else the ‘safehouse’ stocked, like food, medical supplies, and monetary currency from all different countries (because Bruce was rich and paranoid enough to be prepared for ‘any scenario’). 

Gar had paired the pants with one of your tee shirts. 

Something that was slightly big on him even with his natural muscle mass filling it out, bright tie-dye and worn-in cotton. It was purely you. Having the fabric draped over his body did make him feel at least somewhat at ease because it was soaked in your natural smell. It made him feel close to you even when he had gotten out of bed. 

He hadn’t wanted to bother you with his tossing and turning or the bright glowing light of his phone screen when he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. 

He felt your presence in the room, but he didn’t look up until you crept further toward him, steering into his hazy peripheral view. He shrugged off the headphones as he looked up, locking eyes with you over the top of his phone. Your heart ached as you saw that expression so well illuminated by the sharp white light from the screen. He had the face of a kicked puppy, big wide eyes staring you down. Especially because he was making a clear effort not to let his mouth curl into a deep whimpering frown. 

You knew that the events of the day had been particularly hard on him. 

Of course, there was the obvious. The mental exhaustion and fear of being kidnapped and held hostage. The pulsating adrenaline of wondering if he was going to come out alive, on top of the worry he felt for you, Rachel, Dick, and Kory. The intense physical torture he had suffered at the hands of ‘scientists’ controlled by a doomsday cult. 

But on top of all of it, he had experienced something far worse. Something that you knew was far more taxing on his mind. 

He had killed someone for the first time. 

You feared that he was too gentle for killing. Even with the amazing power he wielded. 

Gar - someone who protested eating meat because he hated the idea of an animal being harmed for the sake of his nutrition. Gar - someone who always scooped up spiders and household pests to bring them outside because in his opinion, even the smallest of creatures deserve peace. 

You knew that he was someone who never planned on using his powers to truly harm anyone. 

But the moment the choice had been presented to him - to use his powers to harm someone, or to let you be harmed - it hadn’t really been a choice in his mind at all. 

You had been backed into a corner. You thought you had been clever, breaking out of the room they had locked you in with nothing more than an earring as a lockpick. But without a weapon and without a plan, Gar saw them threatening you and became blind with rage. 

Before he truly knew what was happening, he tasted flesh. 

A very large part of him didn’t regret it. He would choose your life over the life of someone unknown - someone who was going to hurt you - any day of the week. He knew that, if given the same choice, he would do it all over again. 

But there was another part inside of him that kept gnawing with guilt. Another part that said he was wrong, that said there should have been some other way. Something inside of him that said he was now just the villain in someone else’s story - that he wasn’t any better than the people who tried to hurt you in the first place. 

In a lot of ways, that voice said, he was worse than them. 

That voice made it difficult for him to sleep. 

“Can’t sleep?” You hummed out, approaching the couch to come and sit beside him. 

Gar did little more than shrug in response to the question. He didn’t want to admit the weakness aloud. He didn’t want to tell you that he was warring with guilt over something that the others - especially you - didn’t seem to struggle with. 

You both already knew the answer. It had been a hard day for him. Of course sleep was far beyond his grasp. 

In a silent, but comfortable exchange, Gar locked his phone and set it aside, entirely uncaring of saving his progress in the game while you sat down beside him. You slid onto the couch with your butt half nestled on top of his hip and your legs strung across his lap. He reached one arm in front of you, draping it over the thickness of your thighs. In a very natural move, he lazily wrapped his knuckles around your bare skin. 

Neither of you bothered to acknowledge your lack of pants - the fact that you were only wearing underwear with your oversized sleep shirt. You were so used to each other at this point that casual states of undress didn’t really need to be acknowledged. 

He drew mindless patterns into your skin with his thumb and slung his other arm over the back of the couch, bringing you into his lovely natural warmth. You laid your head onto his chest, easily cuddling into his side as you indulged in the familiarity. With his phone turned off, the darkness ruminating through the room was a silent cloak that enveloped the two of you. It made it much easier to fall into that routine of comfort that the two of you always embraced. 

You would explicitly deny that his touch on your bare skin felt like a deadly trail of needles erupting with fire - in the best way possible. Now was not the time for your lust to be breaking through. He was your best friend, and he was clearly in need of comfort. 

“I missed my human heater.” You mumbled out quietly, nuzzling into his side affectionately. 

He let out a hazy breath - some attempt at a laugh in response to your affectionate nickname for him. It was something he knew well about your friendship. You had a constantly chilly body, and he would always be there to warm you up with his blazen hot skin. Just another perk from his mutation - even when he got stuck out in the snow, he never ran cold. 

Now that you had acknowledged that wordless question (the reason you had gotten out of bed, why you couldn’t sleep), it was Gar’s turn to do the same. 

It hung in the air over his head and turned into a stony silence in the quiet, dark room that made each of his breaths seem particularly heavy beside your ear. It was a tension that built upon itself for a few moments. You weren’t going to ask, even though you had a feeling you virtually already knew the answer. You wondered if he was going to come out and admit it before you simply dragged him back to bed and forced him to stay there out of your own selfish need. 

But then he finally broke the silence by saying the words. 

“Whenever I close my eyes… I just keep seeing his face.” 

His words were tentative, a quiet whimper released into the room after being trapped in his chest for too long. Like electricity, shocking and impossible to avoid, you felt his pain surging through you. It caused your throat to clench painfully. You shifted slightly, turning so that you could get a better look at his face. Even in the dimness, the sad glassiness of his eyes practically glowed. 

“Gar,” 

You called out his name, your own voice giving away a depth of weakness that you held for him. Before you could help it, you were reaching up and cradling the side of his face with a cupped palm. Even though your hands were cool, the feeling was intensely comforting to him - just because it was you. He couldn’t help but lean into it, leaning on your hand as though it was the only thing in the world holding him up in that moment. When he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force some of that terrible guilt away, he accidentally forced the tears out and let them leak freely onto your hand. 

“Oh, baby.” You cooed out. 

You were entirely unsure why the nickname popped out. The sound of it on your own lips even surprised you. It was something you had never called him before. But he didn’t stop you, didn’t seem to find it unpleasant, so you continued. 

“You did what you had to do.” You told him with certainty. “You saved my life.” 

That was something infinitely valuable to him. But he wondered if somehow, he had diminished his own value in the process. 

More thick tears slipped down his face and you thumbed them away upon instinct. He swallowed thickly before he spoke again, though this time his words were heavily entrenched in those tears. 

“What if that man had a family?” Gar sniffled quietly. “What if-?” 

“Of course he had a family, Gar.” You quickly cut him off, knowing that his words were quickly spiraling into a deep, putrid guilt. 

That guilt was definitely something you felt the need to save him from. 

Upon hearing your words, he looked at you with sharp hurt in his eyes. Clearly, he had been expecting you to argue against his point, rather than confirm it. But you had a completely different line of thinking in mind.

“Everyone does.” You continued on. “Everyone has people who miss them. But you can’t waste your sympathy on some fictional family you’ve made up for the guy in your head. Having a family and being missed doesn’t give people the right to attack others and get away with it. The possibility of being missed doesn’t mean that people can go through life without seeing the consequences of their actions.” 

Gar let out a quiet huff. It was a sound of defeat - a signal saying that your words had punctured his surface, but hadn’t quite set in yet. 

When he didn’t say anything in reply, you continued. 

“You’re my family.” You told him firmly. 

You used the hold on his cheek to fully turn his head toward yours, and you gently angled into him so that your foreheads were pressed together. Gar closed his eyes and basked in the soothing feeling as you continued talking. 

“And I’m yours. And I really, truly don’t care about who lives or dies outside of us. I don’t care what happens as long as we’re safe. And we’re together.” 

You wanted to add on a verbal exception for the others - for Rachel, and Dick, and Kory, and likely Rachel’s mom just for her sake. An exception for the people who had quickly also become your family in the short time since you had met them. But you had a feeling that Gar knew about this exception in your mind without you having to voice it. 

Gar swallowed hard again, and this time you felt it bob harshly through him while pressed so closely together. You felt him let out a harsh breath before he spoke again. 

“I guess… I guess I’m just worried about what you think of me now.” He spoke the words so quietly, as if his fear even crept into voicing this. “I don’t want my favorite person in the world to be afraid of me. Or… to think I’m a bad person.” 

“I’m not afraid of you.” You quickly argued the point, a slight laughter on your lips at the mere thought of it - at the mention of being afraid of someone like him. 

Yes, he could turn into a giant green tiger, and yes, seeing him use that power to its full extent for the first time had been… jarring. But you would never be afraid of someone who cried during Pixar movies and said it was ‘inhumane’ to kill the animals in Minecraft for food. 

“I could never be afraid of you, Gar.” You easily added on. “You’re not a bad person. You’re such a good person. You’re so good. You’re such a good boy.” 

Those words struck a cord deep within his soul, and a whimper escaped his lips before he could stop it. 

“Say that again.” He told you, so pitifully that it almost sounded like begging. “Please?” 

“You’re such a good boy.” You repeated yourself, running your thumb along the soft skin of his cheek once again. “You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

In a moment, the air shifted. 

The magnetism between the two of you came to a fierce head, and the desperation, the vulnerability that the day’s events had brought forward morphed itself from pain and sadness into something the two of you knew well in the presence of each other - pure wanting. But this time, both of you were exhausted and completely lacking the energy to have any self control to hold it back. 

“Y/N-” 

He barely got out a whimper of your name before you pressed forward that extra inch, stealing his breath as you pressed your lips to his. It was a perfect moment - a beautiful culmination of everything you had ever wanted since meeting him. You definitely weren’t going to waste it. 

He moaned into the kiss and you echoed it back, gulping in breaths through your nose so you wouldn’t have to pull away from the soft cushion of his lips, not even for a moment. When he reached for a greedy grip on the back of your head, filthy and wanting, gently nibbling on your bottom lip - your instincts took over. You blindly swung a leg out, climbing over his waist, and he let out a sharp hiss at the feeling of your weight being planted in his lap. You were beautiful and whole as you sat down on top of him, a perfect reminder that this wasn’t just a dream as his cock quickly swelled to life under the heat of your core where it brushed against his borrowed pants. 

“Please-” He whimpered into your mouth, barely able to get the word out before you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him moan out shakily in the most beautiful way. 

You planted your hands on his shoulders, easily taking control of the situation - not that he cared. He felt like he belonged under your controlling grip, under the pleasant weight of your body as his hard cock throbbed underneath your perfect weight. In a blur of heady kisses, swapping breath with the only man you had ever wanted like this, you got your underwear off and got his pants around his ankles. He shoved your shirt up over your breasts to possessively latch onto one of them with his mouth as you reached down and lined up his pulsing cock with your wet, wanting cunt. 

“Oh-” 

He let out another beautifully pathetic whimper as you sunk down onto him in one smooth movement. Your tight, wet heat quickly surrounded him and made his head spin. You felt so full that it almost choked you, but the hot pangs of electricity that shot up through your pussy easily spurred you on. You wasted no time before you began a brutal pace, bouncing on his lap as if he was nothing more than a toy for your own pleasure. The slap of skin on skin was irritably loud in the otherwise silent room, accompanied only by Gar’s harsh, animalistic pants and your choked-off moans as you struggled to comprehend the fullness of his nearly overwhelming cock. 

You both needed it. You needed the intense sting of pleasure to push out the worries of the day. 

With Gar’s hands gripping at your waist as if you might slip away at any moment and his face buried in your breasts, you almost didn’t hear the quiet murmur of his request when he managed to get the words out beyond that blinding pleasure. 

“Say it again,” He choked out past his harsh breaths. “Please!” 

It took your cock-drunk brain a moment to comprehend it, but when the gears fully churned, you instantly knew what he meant. 

“You’re a good boy,” 

You moaned out, reaching a hand up to pet through his hair. You took a fierce grip on those green locks, never once faltering in the harsh, unforgiving rhythm of your hips as you continued to piston yourself up and down on his cock. 

“You’re a good boy, Gar.” 

“Oh - fuck!” Gar grunted into your chest. 

At the sound of your voice saying this, declaring that he was a good boy - he abruptly came inside you.

[voloslobotomyservice]

okay so I think I finally have context for that original post so I guess I can address some things:

1. I’m not on Twitter so I don’t know of any drama that goes on there. I actively avoid Twitter because of how toxic it can be and I haven’t been active since like August 2022. If there’s someone on Twitter under this name, it’s not me.

2. I don’t even follow autistichalsin, not here or on Twitter (obviously). I did on my first account before it got shadowbanned but when I switched over here, I didn’t continue following them. I don’t have anything against them, I just don’t follow them currently because of the amount of posts they used to make. Idk if they make that many anymore since I don’t follow them.

3. I never co-signed or agreed with what various people on Twitter have said on that platform. I was briefly told about the drama from someone and was like “oh that sucks people are bothering them.” No other context was given so I didn’t know the full extent of the drama or who said what.

4. I don’t know anyone trying to actively join the black bg3 discord that bhaalbaby started. I remember the post being made about it and reblogging it, but as far as I know that was the last time I heard about it. I do not think it’s okay that anyone who the server was not created for tried to join it.

Bhaalbaaby, if you want to discuss this further, I never blocked you, my DM’s are open for discussion. If you don’t want to discuss things and you want to keep things as it is, that’s fine, I’m not gonna demand a conversation. Considering you linked me a site to help me get therapy, considering you don’t know my life and what I’ve gone through and why I have been in therapy, I do not think you want to have a conversation and that’s fine.

Frankly, I do not want to be named as part of any drama considering I am not actively part of it. I’m not calling myself a victim, I’m just saying that I wasn’t ever actively participating in this so I don’t know where the random callout is from.

This will be the last post I make on this situation. I know you wished ill will on me, but I do not wish it on you.

[stranger-rants]

TW - suicide baiting; slurs

It wouldn’t surprise me if an Anti sent hateful messages anonymously pretending to be a Billy / Harringrove blog. This side of the fandom is pretty close knit, and anyone who is caught saying hateful or bigoted things is swiftly dealt with. Antis benefit from the narrative that we are a toxic fandom, so of course they would resort to anonymously pretending to be us in order to convince people we’re The Bad Guys.

I can tell you right now that none of the Billy / Harringrove blogs I’ve interacted with use the same language as is used in some of these suicide baiting messages. No one writes in this erratic manner:

A few times when I have encountered Antis and commented directly onto their posts, I received anonymous messages that were obviously bait.

For example, that post where I responded to that Wanda M/aximoff blog? I received an anonymous message that encouraged me to laugh about the user making posts threatening to kill themselves. One, I found no such posts on their blog. I take that pretty seriously. Two, this was how that user and their friends were talking to me at that point:

Note: As pointed out before, you can’t send screenshots anonymously. These responses follow the same pattern of other Antis accusing us of “not leaving them alone” when no one, including me, was posting about them specifically. That anonymous message was obvious bait, because they wanted me to comment on this user and they wanted specifically for me to encourage that kind of cruelty (suicide baiting). If I had done that, the above responses would have made much more sense - not that they’re justified, but this all seems like a very planned retaliation in response to the bait that someone had set for me.

This isn’t to accuse any of the above people of baiting me, and I don’t want to revisit any interactions with these blogs. I’ve blocked them, and I’ve mostly moved on. That said, I am a cautious person with trust issues because I’m intimately familiar with being gaslit… and I have a sneaking suspicion that all of this is manufactured hate in order to benefit Antis and their opinions of us. It’s too convenient for these hateful messages to fall in the laps of Anti discourse while Billy / Harringrove fans are having perfectly logical and reasonable discussions with people who may not like Billy but who otherwise aren’t harming anyone.

This is also interesting considering I was shadowbanned recently. I’ve submitted a report about that and Tumblr is working on it. I think that someone is making an effort or a group of someone’s is making a coordinated effort to orchestrate things like this. They could be an Anti or just a troll. Regardless, they want us to rise to the bait by validating or outright saying really harmful things about or to other blogs. When we don’t do that, they then argue that something else we said or did was horribly wrong even though it’s just run of the mill fandom discourse. As I said, Antis benefit from this narrative that we’re toxic and this is all too convenient for them.

I don’t believe for a second that these hateful anonymous messages are all coming from real Billy / Harringrove fans. We know each other too well. No one writes like this. This is all very juvenile. Be careful of the anonymous messages you get for now. If it’s anything like what I’ve described, report it. I report and delete any messages like that.

[and-claudias-world]

It's Been a Long, Long Time (Crosshair x gn! reader)

My main account is currently shadowbanned and I am blocked from being able to get/recive messages, tag people, comment and if you have my notifications on for my main blog then those aren't going through either. So I am posting this here.

THIS IS NOT MY MAIN BLOG!!! This is: @and-claudia

This is a part two of this fic: The End of The World

Warnings: None really besides of hints of a possible spoiler froms2 ep12 but not really

Based on the song It's Been a Long, Long Time by Harry James

Words: 1037

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Week 20: 

“Why can’t we be going somewhere warmer?” I whined from beside Tech in the cockpit. 

“Well, Rex said this was urgent so unfortunately we don’t get the pick of missions.” He said with a shrug. 

“Listen, this place is supposedly crawling with Stormtroopers now. We get in, we get out. Rex even said that if we can’t locate him quickly, leave. He knew this was going to be risky, that’s why he gave it to us.” Hunter said as he came in. 

“Who is it? Do we know him?” I asked. 

“Echo said someone named Mayday.” Hunter said. 

I cringed slightly at his name, I still missed him dearly. He left about 7 weeks ago to join Rex. I finally accepted the fact that Crosshair was gone, so now losing my best friend was like salt in the wound, but I couldn’t keep him from what he wanted, I knew that. 

We stayed in touch though which helped, it just wasn’t the same. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There!” I yelled, seeing a figure slumped against the rocks. 

“There is no clear landing, Hunter and Wrecker must propel down to save them.” Tech said from where he sat, flying the ship. 

“Go! Hurry before we’re spotted.” I said ushering them toward the door to help them get strapped in. 

As they lowered down I called out to Omega, “Start gathering all the blankets you can find. They’re going to be freezing when they get here.” 

It felt like forever until Hunter was coming back up. He had one of the men in his arms. 

“He’s already gone.” He said once he was back on the ship. I sighed. 

“Damn it. Take him to the back, there’s a bag I think. We’ll take care of him once we land again. What about his friend?” I asked. 

Hunter didn’t answer, just walked past me to put Mayday in the body bag. 

“Alright, Tiny! We’re coming up!” I heard Wrecker say through his com, he had to yell over the wind. 

I waited by the door to help pull him in once he was up. My focus was solely on getting him to safety I didn’t even realize who it was with him. It wasn’t until the ship door was closed and Hunter had joined us once again that I turned to face the man shivering in the middle of the ship. When my eyes met his brown ones, I froze. The moment we made eye contact though, he averted his gaze downward, scared to look at me. 

I stepped forward until I was right in front of him. My eyes scanned every inch of him that they could. I turned back to Hunter. 

“Is this real?” My voice was just barely above a whisper. 

He gave a small nod and I turned back to Crosshair. 

My eyes began to water, seeing him right here. I never thought that I would ever see him again, let alone be this close to him. I felt like I should be saying something, anything. But nothing would come out. Words could wait. I didn't need words to be able to show him how much I missed him. 

“Yn-” He began to say my name but I shook my head and brought my hands up to his cheeks. 

“Just kiss me.” 

And he did. 

He kissed me once. He tried to pull away but only enough to catch his breath and then he kissed me twice. Then again, a quick breath of air then he was kissing me once again. 

He pulled away for the last time, but just to rest his forehead against mine. 

“It’s been a long time, doll.” His voice sent a warmth through me. 

My heart swelled at his voice, it filled with a love that I hadn’t felt since… I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt like this. I nodded and tried to wipe my tears away. 

“Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” I asked. 

He nodded and allowed me to lead him over to the heater and then cover him in blankets. I refused to leave his side. It felt like if I left he’d disappear from me once again. Omega brought him a thermos of hot tea to help as well which he was grateful for. We didn’t say much, just reveled in the fact that we were together once again. Eventually, the night was coming to an end and it was time for everyone to begin to settle down. 

Crosshair had warmed back up to his normal body temperature. 

“You should go to bed.” He finally said. 

I had my head resting on his shoulder already, “Come with me?” I asked quietly. 

He didn’t answer. Instead, he nudged me off of his shoulder and stood up, offering me his hand. He lead us back to the bunk we had shared a long time ago. I found him a change of clothes from the sweats and shirts I used to steal from him. We both got changed and then settled down in the bunk. I had forgotten how much of a squeeze it was to have two people sleep in the tight space, but it felt so right. 

The ship was quiet and so when I spoke up again, I did my best to keep it as quiet as possible. 

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” I said. 

“Hm?” 

“You coming back… I knew your chip was gone back then… but I don’t even care about all of that. You’re home, that’s all I care about.” I said, sitting up a little to look at his face a little better. 

He nodded, “And I’m not leaving ever again.” 

I leaned over to give him a kiss, then I settled back down. My head was resting on his chest. I felt him press another kiss to the top of my head, before pressing them there again, but this time they lingered much longer. 

When he finally pulled back he whispered a quiet, “Good night.” 

I would have returned it if I wasn’t already halfway asleep. I hadn’t fallen asleep this quickly in a long, long time. With him next to me, everything was as it should be. 

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